Disclaimer: I own so very few in this story, and Harry Potter and co. are not one of them.

Warning: Morally questionable things, language, violence, gore, and typos. Summer part may seem a bit rushed.

Beta: silverseed

Harry curled up in her blanket as she stared across at Tom. She had reserved an entire cart for themselves, telling her friends she needed time to herself. She casted silencing charms over it, as well as locking charms, and pulled down the curtains over the windows that overlooked the rest of the train hallway. Tom sat, perfectly composed, watching her.

"I never wanted to die," Tom began.

Harry did not respond, merely listening. Moratorium listened, as well, an unidentifiable gleam in his eyes.

"Around my second year in Hogwarts I began researching ways to achieve immortality. True immortality," Tom continued. "For years my search proved futile until… until I happened across an old book in the restricted section. It contained a passage that drew my interest. It was written in Latin, so it had taken me awhile to properly translate.

Tom closed his eyes, a thoughtful look on his face.

"A man who holds one whole

Will know the fair rapture,

But a man who holds one split

Will know the lying void.

A man who holds one whole

Can grow and grow his bloody brood,

But a man who holds one split

Can wilt and wilt his rotting tree.

A man who holds one whole,

Will control his balance,

But a man who holds one split,

Will have no choice but to fracture and break.

A man who holds one whole,

Can pass freely from this realm,

But a man who holds one split

Can cling to this mortal world.

Such is the way of a horcrux."

Harry leaned back, frowning. "What did it mean?"

"I wasn't sure. It was describing something—something called a horcrux. I wanted to know what it meant, but when I searched for anything regarding horcruxes nothing came up. I was getting desperate, so I turned to a teacher I knew I could trust with my inquiry. My potions' professor, Slughorn. He provided me with enough information to begin to understand the riddle."

"So what did it mean?" Harry repeated.

"The riddle was describing what it was… A man who holds one whole… But a man who holds one split. That was the first thing I needed to understand—what was whole? What was split? Was it the magical core? A wand? A spell? A rune? I didn't have a clue when I first started the research, and because it was such a repetition in the riddle, I knew it would need to be the first thing I understood. The riddle was taken from a Dark Arts book, one of the very scarce in Hogwarts. I turned to one of my alliances and persuaded him (with little effort) to allow me to use his family's library.

"The Black family library had an abundance of Dark Arts books, but it took several trips running through the library before I was able to find what I needed; another piece to the puzzle that was a horcrux. There was a very small passage, very brief. It was a warning to the user against using the horcrux, warning them of the price of immortality. It then said that the blood ritual was dangerous enough in itself that only a truly masterful wizard could even think of attempting it and living.

"I ignored the warnings then. I was only interested in what I found—a way to immortality and it was a blood ritual. I knew where to look next. Sadly, though, the Black family did not hold all that many Blood Arts books."

"Excuse me," Harry interrupted, "but… Blood Art?"

"Blood Art is a subcategory of the Dark Arts," Moratorium said, and Harry turned her head to her left, because it sounded almost as if Moratorium was sitting right next to her. She didn't see him there, not really, but in the reflection of the window, he stared back at her.

"How do you know that?" Harry asked incredulously. "We never studied it."

Moratorium smiled. "Another time, dear."

Harry frowned, but did not press the issue. She turned back to Tom, awaiting his response.

"Blood Art is a subcategory of the Dark Arts," Tom said, echoing Moratorium's words. "Blood Arts are one of the forgotten arts, as well as one of the original arts of old."

"Original arts…?"

Tom gave her a warm smile, and he sat up a bit straighter. Immediately, Harry straightened as well. His expression and posture reminded her of the time he taught the class in Defense Against the Dark Arts (actually multiple times—every time Lupin was sick, Harry volunteered to teach and Snape wasn't allowed). Harry had come to know how much Tom loved teaching others, and he was an excellent instructor.

"You won't learn about them until your sixth or seventh year," Tom said, assuring her that her ignorance was understandable. "The original arts were the arts witches and wizards used for as long as there have been witches and wizards. They are as the following: Runes, Blood Art, Charms, and Transfiguration. There is debate on whether or not Divination counts as an old art, as true Seeing did occur back then, however because it was so scarce and it's not really a controlled art…"

Tom trailed off, frowning thoughtfully. "No matter, no matter… As you already know, Runes (now Ancient Runes) is a difficult study, and few endeavour to learn it. Even fewer master it. This is not only because of the intellectual challenge it provides, but because the use of runes is innate."

"What?" Harry said blankly. "How…? In what possible way…?"

"Innate in your magic, not your blood," Tom assured her. "It has no definite pattern as to where it'll appear, or how. There's no reason why it appears, it only does, which already limits many to being able to truly understand Runes. Coupled with its difficulty… the subject has dwindled stupendously due to lack of use, and the large gaps between times where anyone understood it."

"Is it the same for the Blood Arts?"

"Yes and no," Tom said. "Spells that fall under the Blood Arts require a very strong magical affinity. It would take nothing less than someone of my power during my fourth year to attempt even the simplest of spells. I believe even you would have trouble using it. It was once widely accepted that truly powerful witches and wizards used Blood Spells. And due to the pattern of Dark Lords being powerful, and so they use Blood Spells…"

"It became associated with the Dark Arts," Harry finished. "Even if the supposed good guys did it, too?"

"Fear trumps bravery, and back then when it became decided, fear ran wild and free," Tom said softly. "Now that I knew that the horcrux was under the Blood Arts, though, I began researching the art extensively. I learned much in my search. For example, each spell comes with a price."

"A price?" Harry echoed, intrigued. She hadn't heard much of spells that required a price of the caster.

"Indeed. Blood was the most common price to pay," Tom said, amused.

"Fascinating… why is that?"

"Blood fueled the magic. It was believed that blood was the life force for a reason, Harry," Tom said. "Because in a way, it is. Blood is the physical connection between our spirits and our bodies. It's the one place where our magic and our physical selves coincide and link."

"Wonder what a witch's blood looks like under a microscope," Harry mused quietly to herself.

Tom smirked. "Such mortal instruments wouldn't be able to capture the truth. By drawing upon the connection, it added another channel for our magic to run through. Think of it… think of it as casting the same spell with two wands and combining their forces together."

Harry let out an appreciative whistle.

"Indeed," Tom said, nodding. "The amount of power needed for the spell determined how much blood was required. In some… In some spells, massacres were required. Another reason, I suppose, the Blood Arts became considered a version of Dark Arts."

Harry nodded and Tom continued, "So I continued to research horcruxes, absorbing as much knowledge as I could along the way. Eventually I found what I needed. While some Blood Arts require actual blood others require something far more potent. There are some that require the actual essence of life, bottled and trapped. There are a few that demand the essence of death—a dying man's last breath harvested. I even found one or two that wanted the magical core. But even fewer than those did I found the use of a… soul."

Harry's eyes widened.

"A man who holds one whole… But a man who holds one split," Tom quoted. "It wasn't referring to a wand, a core, a drop of blood or a heart. It was referring to the very soul that beats inside each and everyone of us, trapped by its mortal shell."

"Oh, no," Harry breathed, shaking her head slowly. "Don't tell me you actually…"

"A man who holds one whole / Will know the fair rapture, / But a man who holds one split / Will know the lying void," Tom continued, ignoring Harry's look. "A man with a whole soul will know fair judgement, will know warmth and love and happiness. But a man who holds a split soul will be stuck in limbo."

Harry fell quiet.

"A man who holds one whole / Can grow and grow his bloody brood, / But a man who holds one split / Can wilt and wilt his rotting tree. A man with one soul can carry on their lineage, but a man with two or more souls will be sterile."

Tom looked down at his lap as he uttered the next part, "A man who holds one whole, / Will control their balance, / But a man who holds one split, / Will have no choice but to fracture and break. A man with a soul will be able to remain sane, but those who split their soul will no longer have the option and will slowly decline into insanity.

"A man who holds one whole, / Can pass freely from this realm, / But a man who holds one split / Can cling to this mortal world. A man with a complete soul can die and move on. Without a complete soul, though, they can stay and live for however long as they please.

"Such is the way of a horcrux," Tom finished, still steadily looking down. "I did not care for the first part, I figured it would never apply to me as I would be immortal. I don't want children, don't care for them and never planned on wanting them (still don't, actually). I… I was concerned with the third part. However… However I believed myself strong enough to hold true to myself. I felt confident that I would remain rational through it all. All that mattered to me was immortality and the horcrux seemed the best way to do it."

Tom looked discomforted, a hollowed look entering his eyes. "The actual ritual to create a horcrux was… harrowing… I should have stopped after one. Perhaps two. Three in total was a solid number, and something I could guarantee my sanity with…"

"So that's… that's how you've been staying alive. Or at least the present you," Harry summarized. "And… and to defeat you we… we need to… find the other pieces…?"

"I'll get to that," Tom said, waving Harry's impatient look off. "A horcrux is, essentially, a piece of soul that has been fragmented and broken off from the original. A soul can only be broken apart so many times, though, and the fact that I stopped at seven means that I could not create more."

"Could not? How many did you originally want?"

"Thirteen," Tom said promptly. "The reverse numbers on the day I was born the thirty-first."

"Oh. Okay, so you can't make any more and… wait… how did you know you stopped at seven?"

Tom blinked in surprise at her question. "Because I can sense them."

Harry's eyes widened. "What? Do you know where they are?"

Tom frowned. "No. I can't sense where they are unless they're nearby. I have a few guesses as to where I would have hidden them, but… but I can sense them. I know they're there. Sort of."

"Sort of?" Harry asked dryly.

Tom actually blushed. "I wasn't able to until that… that thing rose up. It would seem I could only sense them when all pieces of souls have a physical body. Which is… which brings me to the next piece of information. Your dreams. Our connection. Your scar."

Harry stared in disbelief at Tom, her mind almost refusing to process the implication that Tom was making. Her hand drifted up to her forehead, her fingers tracing the facial disfiguration. "You don't mean…"

"I wasn't able to confirm it until that night," Tom said, sliding to the floor and kneeling before her. He lifted a pale finger and ran it along her scar, morbid fascination in his eyes, "but yes. I do mean. Somehow on the night that creature fell and you lived… you became a living, breathing, horcrux. Or, well, your scar did. You're still your own soul, Harry, but your body shares another."

Unable to help herself, Harry's eyes moved towards the reflection. Moratorium smiled back at her.

"He's not wrong," Moratorium purred. "But don't worry. His soul inside of you will never harm you, dear. I promise."

Harry relaxed. She trusted Moratorium, and Moratorium would never lie to her.

"Okay," Harry said slowly, "so what do we do now?"

Tom stood up, moving to the window. He placed a hand on it, his eyes searching the changing landscape. "Now? Now we have two options. We hunt down the horcruxes and destroy them all before eliminating that abomination—this would mean killing myself and you in the process. Or…"

"Or…?"

"Or we choose a new anchor and converge the souls," Tom said, turning back around, a devilish smirk on his face. "You did not think I wouldn't have a backup in case I did not enjoy having a horcrux, did you? There is a reason I did not perform the actual ritual even until my seventh year in Hogwarts, even though I knew how by the beginning of my third year. I made sure I could undo the process—rebuild my soul, if you will."

Tom walked slowly towards Harry with an almost predatory prowl. "It's one of the reasons why I made the diary sentient by establishing my fifth year self along with my seventh year's memories. To undo the damage if my present self was incapable of doing so. And to become the new anchor."

"What do you mean by new anchor?" Harry asked, leaning towards Tom, an excited gleam in her eyes.

"I mean that when the anchor is destroyed, instead of staying destroyed like the rest of the horcrux pieces… its consciousness will remain and stay in this realm. At the moment, the abomination is the anchor, however… with the right ritual… I could become the anchor."

Harry grinned. "That's bloody brilliant."

"Of course it is. I came up with it."

"So how do we do it?"

"First," Tom said pointedly, "I need to have the biggest piece of soul. This will mean finding all the pieces we can get our hands on and converging them into me. It will take time, but the end results will make it worth it."

"Wait… does that mean you have to converge with me…?"

"No. I think I only need four, maybe five, pieces to have a bigger soul than that creature," Tom dismissed. "Besides, I can't afford for you to die any time soon."

"True enough…" Harry trailed off, smiling.

Tom's lips twitched and he sat down next to Harry, blocking her view of Moratorium. "After I have the largest piece, well… we'll get to that when needed."

"Right. What do you need us to do?"

"First, we need to find out what I actually did turn into a horcrux," Tom said. "I planned on converting any of the Founders' artifacts I could get my hands on. I know where one is, and we can get to it when we return to Hogwarts. There was Slytherin's locket and ring… I hadn't converted them, yet, when I created this diary, but… I know where to get them. Unless the abomination is even more stupid than I give him credit for and decided to forgo the plans…"

"I wouldn't put it past him," Moratorium said slyly.

Tom snorted. "And that's everything. Well. Everything you need to know, I should say. I don't know where or what the other pieces are. I can only tell you they'll most likely be artifacts."

"Then Moratorium can send out a search for all artifacts," Harry said, and Moratorium nodded his head in agreement.

Tom smiled at that, looking pleased. "Then we have a plan… speaking of plans… what is yours, Moratorium?"

Moratorium shifted in the booth, relaxing in the seat and holding up a perfectly manicured hand—Lavender insisted and wouldn't stop bothering Harry until she consented to the treatment. His eyes drifted over to the window and he found Harry in the reflection, staring at him with a warm smile.

"Well," Moratorium drawled, "now I begin to take a step in power. The first thing to do is get rid of Fudge. I can't have him holding me back, now can I? I originally planned on killing him, but after seeing his reaction to Voldewhore's rise… I have a far better idea. It's clear he's going to do everything in his power to deny the rise (and Voldewhore will do nothing to dissuade this news because it's to his benefit the world thinks him dead), probably try to undermine Harry and Dumbledore's status. The best way to do this would be the media, of course, and I estimate he'll begin his campaign within weeks.

"Of course I won't be allowing this. Harry will make an appointment with Rita, and Marwyn will make an appointment with the Chief of the Daily Prophet, as well as other big-star media corporations. If they cannot be persuaded through bribery or blackmail, he'll deal with them and we'll move our proposition to the next in line. Naturally, after the first article is released by Rita, many newspapers, magazines and any other publicity businesses will want a word with Harry. She'll be spending quite a bit of time in the media. Unfortunately, we'll be too busy for that to properly happen, so she'll be using her mentor to speak on her behalf.

"I suppose it's a good thing I had been so lazy in getting rid of Lockhart. He'll serve as her voice in the media—saying what we already approved for him to say—and win over the majority approval with ease. Harry already has an appointment with him prior to her appointment with Rita to discuss angles and inform him of his new job. I have no doubt he'll accept, as it would make him look exceptionally good if his student took down the Dark Slut, or whatever.

"With all this media against Fudge's claims, he'll either retract and submit, or make an idiot of himself and get sacked. Either works fine with me. If he submits, I'll… persuade… him to give up his job. If he gets sacked, all the better. And now, after years of preparations… of blackmails, threats, deaths and bribes… I finally have enough sway and power in the Ministry to guarantee my plan."

"And what exactly is your plan?" Tom asked slowly.

Moratorium gave Tom a positively predatory smile. "Isn't it obvious?"

He laughed softly.

"I'm going to be the new Minister of Magic."

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry stepped off the train and barreled straight into Sirius. Sirius wrapped his arms around her, picking her up off the ground and swinging her around, laughing. Unable to help herself, Harry joined his infectious laughter, giggling quietly. Sirius set her down on the ground, placing both hands on her shoulders and looking at her.

"Bloody hell, you need to stop growing up, Vix," Sirius said, grinning.

Harry's eyes sparkled with amusement. "I can't help it, Padfoot. Where's Moony?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Off and away. Dumbledore's got him on a mission on behalf of the Order. Speaking of the old man…"

"Yes. I still want to have a talk with him over the summer. We have much to discuss," Harry said patiently. Sirius grinned and ruffled her hair.

"Only wanted to make sure. Alright, what do you want to do first?"

"Dunno. Hermione's trip with her parents might be cancelled with the whole Voldewhore running around."

Sirius frowned. "That is a bit of a stopper on vacations… Hmm… Well, let's get something to eat first. Then we'll head home and play Frachles."

"Sounds like a plan… What's Frachles?"

"No clue. said the first word off the tip of my tongue—we'll make it up as we go along."

"Brilliant."

(◡‿◡✿)

Once Sirius had gone to bed later that day, and Harry knew for certain he was asleep, Harry switched over to Moratorium.

Moratorium changed out into his usual attire and exited the flat. He had grabbed Harry's broom on the way out and in a fluid, swift, motion he mounted it and flew off. He was going to meet Marwyn at a small park a little ways from the flat. Moratorium flew through the night sky with ease before his eyes settled on the park.

His feet touched down on the wet grass, and he held the broom parallel to his body. Tom drifted a little ways from him, examining the surroundings. The duo didn't need to wait for long, though, because Marwyn quickly strolled out of the darkness to them. Marwyn gave a low bow in greeting, to which Moratorium only smiled.

"At your request, the leader of the Assassins Guild has rounded up the trainees for your inspection. I take it you finished going through the report, Lord Moratorium?" Marwyn inquired, offering the young man his arm. Moratorium daintily placed his hand over Marwyn's arm.

"I have. I must admit my interest in one of them, the one Viltar mentioned earlier," Moratorium said. Viltar was the name of the grizzled old man who ran the guild in Moratorium's absence. "At the last meeting he sung praises of the child."

Marwyn gave a small smile, and in a snap, they were gone.

(◡‿◡✿)

Moratorium suppressed a wince as the two reappeared. The Apparition wards went back up around them, and Moratorium ignored the looks that came their way. The guild was built on a secluded island, charmed, jinxed and warded to the best that money could buy. The island was not unlike a wild jungle. The terrain and creatures inside were vicious and heartless and the perfect training grounds to groom hardened warriors and killers. Even a strong man could not survive that jungle on his own. It required cunning, efficiency and luck. Qualities Moratorium admired in his little assassins.

The guild was held inside a black stone fortress. Guards watched over the high towers, peering down at those below, while a regularly scheduled patrol roamed the grounds.

Moratorium entered the fortress, walking gracefully down the nearly bare walls and descended down the first staircase. Marwyn walked behind him, on his right shoulder, as per usual.

"When this is over, I have another task for you. Several, actually," Moratorium said casually as he walked down another large hallway.

"How may I be of service?" Marwyn asked immediately.

Moratorium resisted the urge to smile at such an obedient tool. "I first need a list of where every artifact of the Hogwarts Founders are. And I do mean every artifact. Next, I need you to find a way to enter the Malfoy's manor without detection. Thirdly, I want a purge. I want every last one of my employees checked for any sign of allegiance with the Dark Slut. This takes priority. If you find any actual Death Eaters in my ranks, kill them. If you find fanatics (not actual Death Eaters), give them a choice to stay with me, or leave for him. If they leave for him, kill them. If they stay with me, keep them under watch. Do whatever it takes to purge out the traitors: veritaserum, torture, blackmail; whatever it takes."

Marwyn frowned briefly. He knew it was a large task, considering how many Moratorium employed.

"You will, of course, have the full support of the Assassins' and Thieves' Guild after you check them first," Moratorium said smoothly.

The frown was replaced with a smile. "It will be done, my Lord."

Moratorium waved his hand and the giant black doors opened. A Great Hall with tall, black marble pillars, and a long scarlet red carpet that ran down the middle greeted him. The ceiling was enchanted to look like a burning night sky, the fire dancing playfully in the reflection of the black marble flooring. The room almost reminded Moratorium of a throne room, especially considering how at the end of the room was a set of grand thrones set upon stairs.

"A throne room?" Tom asked incredulously. "That's… surprising. That's more like something I would do."

_It's not for me. I am… merely setting up the basis. I am only a stepping stone; a means to an end. But a pair will eventually rule from here, I suspect._

Tom's brow furrowed in confusion at Moratorium's odd words, but he did not press the issue. Moratorium strolled down the rug and approached the black thrones.

_Besides. It's not complete, anyway. I'm nowhere near finished._

Moratorium's hands brushed along the arm of the throne.

"Shall I inform them you're here, my Lord?" Marwyn asked lowly.

"Hmm… where would they be now?" Moratorium murmured, his fingers stroking the arm.

"About this time? They should be in the training room. We are, after all, early," Marwyn responded.

"Then let's go to them," Moratorium said, turning and heading away.

It didn't take long to track down the training room, and quietly, the duo entered. The actual training area was several meters below the room, and Moratorium peered over the railing, staring down at the group below.

With precise and unified strikes, they struck their moving wooden dummies. Moratorium watched as Viltar barked at them, and he could scarcely make out his name along with don't disappoint from the loudness of the trainees hitting the dummies.

Moratorium cleared his throat and Marwyn, taking the hint, raised his wand and pointed it at Moratorium's throat.

"Hello," Moratorium said.

"My Lord," Viltar greeted, looking surprised, "I was not expecting you…Vy idioty, poklonis' vashego Gospoda. " (*1)

Eyes flew up to Moratorium, and slowly, each figure bowed lowly to him. Moratorium waved his hand in a dismissive gesture before he swung over the railing and dropped down. Immediately, Marwyn casted a slow-fall spell on him (as Moratorium knew he would), and Moratorium gently touched down to the ground.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your prodigy, Viltar?" Moratorium asked, his eyes sparkling with dark mirth.

Viltar gave a short nod, his eyes settling on the smallest of figures. "Al'bino, idi syuda." (*2)

Moratorium watched with undisguised interest as the smallest figure slowly stepped away from the shadows, the silvery-blue fire from the lit torches flickering over his face. He wore a dark leather tunic and dark pants, a black belt fashioned around him decorated with various weapons and a wand. He was sweaty, and clenched his gloved hands as he approached Moratorium.

He was smaller than Moratorium, but was about the same height as Harry.

Harry looked at him, intrigued. Her eyes twinkled with excitement.

He was reported to have been the same age as Harry, but his small stature gave him the appearance of someone younger.

The boy stopped in front of Moratorium before he slowly kneeled, bowing his head. Moratorium walked around him slowly, lazily. He was albino, that much Moratorium knew, but the way the fire flickered across his white hair, made his hair have an almost silvery look. He was a pretty boy, Moratorium supposed, judging from Harry's keen interest in him, a very pretty boy. His red eyes were blank when they had stared into Moratorium's and Moratorium knew his past as a slave had yet to escape him.

"You are a rising prodigy and single handedly dealt with half of the list," Moratorium purred kneeling down to the boy's level. "You have yet to be given a name, boy, and I believe now is the time that changes."

The boy stiffened and he hesitantly looked up. Moratorium reached towards him and grabbed his chin, locking eyes with him.

"Efface," Moratorium said. "Your name from now on is Efface. Marwyn will train you personally now. You will assist Marwyn and you will assist me, personally. When Marwyn is satisfied with your progress, I have a special task for you."

Efface blinked dumbly at Moratorium, surprise dominating his features. Which wasn't all that farfetched, considering the trainees weren't supposed to know Moratorium was even coming, let alone that he would be hand-picking one of them to serve as his champion. Not that Efface knew he would be Moratorium's champion.

Not yet, at least.

Moratorium stood up, glancing at Marwyn and jerking his head in Efface's direction.

Marwyn gave a sly smile, bowing. "As you wish, my Lord. Efface. Let's go. It's time we returned Moratorium to his home."

Moratorium glanced over at the rest of the ex-slaves. "Do me proud, my pets. I'll be watching.

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry giggled with delight, clapping her hands as Sirius scowled at Lupin. Lupin was smirking as he laid down his cards on the table. "I win again, Padfoot. No hard feelings, chum?"

"You're cheating," Sirius grouched, tossing his own cards up in the air as Lupin began to pull the pile of delights in the center of the table towards him. "Vix, he's cheating, right?"

"Hell if I know," Harry said, still giggling at Sirius's pout. It was odd to see an adult wear such a childish and petulant expression, but it somehow seemed to fit him. "Another game, monsieurs?"

"Nope. I refuse to play with him anymore," Sirius said, sticking out his tongue at Lupin. Lupin rolled his eyes, standing up from the table.

"Just as well. I should probably head back to the Order. Tonks and I will be doing another scouting."

"Tonks and Lupin sittin' in a tree. K-I-S-S-I—" Sirius stopped himself when Lupin hit him over the head, but he still grinned mischievously. Lupin swept down and brushed a kiss on top of Harry's head, and Harry was proud of herself for not flinching away. After Lupin left, she looked over at Sirius, tilting her head.

"Whachoo wanna do now?" Harry asked in a lazy drawl.

Sirius shrugged. "I actually have a… urk… job interview later today, as you know. The Ministry can't continue to pay me forever to compensate for their idiocy. Besides, it'll give me something to do when you head off to school again."

Harry pursed her lips, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Actually, I think I know a place where you can work. My fellow Marauders will be opening a store of their own when they graduate and I'll be paying for it. I bet I could talk them into opening now over the summer and then you can help man it while they head to school. I'm sure they could sneak out to work it over the weekends."

Sirius's eyes twinkled. "A store? You mean a practical jokes store, don't you?"

"As if Snicker and Cackle would settle for anything less. Interested?"

"Do you even need to ask, Vix?"

Harry beamed. "I'll send a letter to them as soon as possible, then," Harry promised. "Do you need help getting ready for your interview, though?"

"Nah. Only gotta find my pants and I'm all set."

Harry glanced down at his boxers and nodded her head. "Pants would be a good thing, Padfoot. Do you mind if I head out on my own while you're gone?"

Sirius frowned at that. "Hmm… Where would you be going to?"

"I have an appointment with Lockhart. As you know, I'll be talking to Madam Skeeter tomorrow about Voldewhore. Oh. That reminds me, your interview is in Vertic Alley, right? Do you think you could pick up something there for me? I ordered it, but I shipped it to the Post there."

He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I still don't like you talking to that woman. Sure, she's been awfully nice about both of us; wrote quite the article on how dashing I was and how I was obviously Great Britain's number one bachelor, but… hmm. And this Lockhart guy… and yes, I can pick up your item. It's in your name, right?"

"Right, and Lockhart is a tool, Padfoot," Harry said patiently, "but he knows the press better than anyone. He'll help me say what needs to be said."

Sirius continued to eye Harry. "I suppose it's alright. I know you can take care of yourself very well, Vix. Nevertheless you'll still meet him in a public place, right?"

"Yes, Padfoot. I'll be meeting him in at Flavia's Flavorous Flanals for pastries and other treats."

"Then I'm perfectly okay with it! You better be home when I return, though, otherwise I might accidentally cast a balding jinx on Lockhart."

Tom snickered at that, quickly trying to cover it with a cough. Harry's lips twitched. "Yes, Padfoot. I promise."

"Good girl," Sirius said, standing up and giving Harry a quick kiss on the cheek before heading off to find his pants.

"How does that man keep losing his pants?" Tom wondered out loud after he left.

Harry shrugged. "Hell if I know."

(◡‿◡✿)

Later that night, after Harry and Tom returned from Harry's meeting with Lockhart, Harry fell onto the couch, letting out a groan of annoyance. "That damn man. If he wasn't so damn useful…"

Even Tom looked irritated as he took a seat in a chair next to her. "Even though I didn't have to directly deal with him, he still annoyed me. At least he'll cover your interview with Rita with you tomorrow."

"At least there's that," Harry sighed into the pillows. She rolled off the couch, landing on the floor and glaring up at the ceiling. "Tt. So annoying."

A high-pitched yip sounded the room and immediately Harry's annoyance disapparated. Titan came barreling into the room, jumping up onto Harry's stomach and wiggling excitedly. He yipped again and Harry sat up, picking up her puppy and cooing softly at him.

Tom looked fondly at the two, before frowning and snorting. "You're so sentimental."

Harry shot him a half-hearted glare, adjusting Titan in her lap. "And you're apathetic."

"I'm not apathetic. I simply don't care for the majority of things," Tom said carefully.

Harry snorted. "The only things you care about are power, wealth, and status."

Tom shrugged. "They are among the things, yes. I also care about other things, believe it or not. I'm not completely inhuman."

"But you don't deny that you are kind of inhuman."

Tom smirked. "Well, I am superior—"

Harry waved her hand in an annoyed/dismissive gesture, her lips twitching as she fought back a smile. "Whatever."

"Vix, I'm home," sung Sirius as he entered the living room. He was carrying a fairly large box and sat it down beside Harry. "Here's your package."

"Thank you," Harry said, smiling up at him. "Hungry? I think Dobby's almost finished making dinner."

"Famished," Sirius said.

After dinner, Harry took the package up to her room and placed it on her bed. She headed over to her desk and pulled out her magic-infused ink, along with her specially made unicorn-hair brush. Both items were essential in creating most runes. She carried each over to her bed and opened the package, pulling out a large egg.

"Is that a dragon's egg?" Tom asked, aghast.

"No," Harry snorted. "It's a relative of the dragon, but no. It's not a dragon egg."

"What is it?" Tom asked dubiously and Harry ignored the question, choosing instead to start sketching out a rune she and Moratorium had designed a long time ago. A rune that they had usually only placed on books. However, Harry felt that it was time to elaborate on this specific rune so that it could also work on living creatures.

Silence filled the room until Harry completed her work. "Tom. Come here."

Tom frowned, but sat on the bed with her.

Harry threw the egg at him and Tom reflexively made the movements to catch the egg and…

He caught it.

He stared in dumbfoundment at the egg that he now physically held.

"What?" Tom asked dumbly.

"It's something I wanted to give to you," Harry said, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. "Something that you can interact with at all times, and… and, um… I might even make 'em an anchor for you when they've hatched and they're old enough to be on their own. So that way you can go wherever you want without my supervision, or stay stuck in the Chambers. Um…"

"You're giving me this…?" Tom asked slowly, as if he was still uncertain. "Why?"

Harry shrugged, her cheeks warming. "I wanted to give you something, and um… I really like them, so I thought you might, too."

"What kind of creature is it?"

"It's in the snake family," Harry said, smiling mysteriously. "But other than that, you'll have to wait and find out. It's not a Basilisk, though. I couldn't get one of those, sadly."

Tom nodded his head slowly, staring down at the egg in his lap. "It doesn't weigh anything."

"Part of the rune, since you'll be holding it quite a bit so that way it'll imprint on you. I've also got the rune set up so it'll stay warm," Harry said.

"Thank you," Tom said, resting his chin on top of the egg. He was smiling in amusement at Harry. "I know this means a lot, coming from such an animal-lover like yourself."

Harry shrugged, mildly embarrassed. "Whatever."

A heartbeat passed before Harry cleared her throat. "Tom. I want to talk to you about something."

Tom blinked in surprise, but gave a small nod of his head.

"I… I think we should tell Dumbledore about the horcruxes… and about you."

Tom stiffened and his eyes narrowed. "No. No way. Dumbledore wouldn't understand. He's not like you; not like us."

"We have to think about this logically," Harry said, sighing wearily. "Moratorium and I both think that even Marwyn is going to have trouble locating all the founding artifacts. And it's going to be hard enough to get them. For all we know your future self found one that hadn't been discovered yet and hid it before anyone else could. Dumbledore is one of the greatest wizards of all time, you'd be a fool to say otherwise. We… We might need his help. So… So I want to tell him about the horcruxes when we have our meeting."

Tom's jaw clenched and he glared at Harry. "I… I understand what you're saying, but… Dumbledore wouldn't understand our end game. He would try to destroy the horcruxes—he would have us both killed, Harry. Surely you must see that."

Harry fell silent. "I'm not refuting it, but… but our options are limited, Tom. Every second that… thing… grows stronger. I lost my… my parents before he was finally subdued. I don't… I don't want to lose anyone else. Not… Hermione… Not Padfoot nor Moony… Not Basileus nor Titan… Not Luna nor Neville, nor… you."

Tom's glare softened and he looked away, his face unreadable. "I… I see your point. But… But he can't know about me."

"Then how can I tell him how I know about—?"

"I don't know and I don't care," Tom cut in sharply. "Tell him about the horcruxes. Have him help us find them, but he can't know our plan for them and he can't know about me. Otherwise you can count our alliance at an end, Harry."

Harry froze, her heart stopping.

"I understand," Harry whispered. "Good night, Tom."

"Good night, Miss Potter," Tom muttered.

(◡‿◡✿)

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Returns!

Rita Skeeter, dashing young reporter, has been given an exclusive interview with the darling witch, Harry Potter and her mentor, Gilderoy Lockhart. It was with a heavy heart that Harry Potter explained the true events that transpired on the last task in the Triwizard Tournament. As many of you know, there had been numerous rumors regarding the tournament, and it's in this article that you'll discover the truth. Hang tight, readers, because here it comes.

It seemed that Barty Crouch had hidden away his son. It's a well-known fact that Barty Crouch had sentenced his son, Barty Crouch Jr, to Azkaban for being found a Death Eater. Within a year, his wife had fallen ill and passed away in her sleep—or so it had been told. It's been discovered that's not the case at all! Barty Crouch has lied and tricked us into believing that his wife and his son died within the same month. In truth, his wife coerced Barty Crouch into allowing her to switch places with her son in Azkaban. There, wearing a polyjuice disguise, she passed away and Barty Crouch Jr was safely escorted out of Azkaban and kept under the Imperius Curse for the majority of his adult life. Over a decade later, Barty Crouch Jr was freed from the curse and ambushed retired-Auror, Mad-Eye Moody.

From there, he infiltrated the Triwizard Tournament and tricked the Goblet of Fire into accepting Harry Potter as the fourth Triwizard Champion! All the while he kept Barty Crouch Sr under the Imperius Curse to help further his plan.

What was his plan, might you ask?

The resurgence of You-Know-Who. In the third task, Barty Crouch Jr (knowing that Harry would undoubtedly win due to her wit, strength and ability) enchanted the Triwizard Cup into a Portkey. However, he didn't count on Harry's generosity in assisting a fellow Hogwarts student. You see, dashing Sirius Black gave sweet Harry a Portkey to use after the tournament was over so she could safely exit the maze after she found the cup. She offered to share this Portkey (and thus help escort out) with the handsome Cedric Diggory. When the two held the Portkey, Harry reached for the Cup, only for both of them to find themselves transported to a gruesome graveyard, where none other than Peter Pettigrew awaited them with Barty Crouch Jr and You-Know-Who! Realizing the danger, Harry activated the Portkey to save Cedric from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's wrath.

The details of the face off between the Dark Lord and Harry Potter are a little disoriented and vague (understandably so!), but in short it would appear that You-Know-Who has risen into power again, witnessed by young Harry Potter.

Gilderoy Lockhart assures us that he has the utmost faith in his student and will be answering any and all questions on her behalf, so that way she may focus on her studies and training to defeat (again) You-Know-Who. The Ministry has yet to comment on this...

Harry folded the newspaper, content with what she read. It was later in the day that the paper had been published and already Lockhart mailed her an owl that multiple people wanted her interview. Harry told him that Lockhart was welcome to go to the interviews on her behalf, so long as he stuck to the facts that she had established.

She was curious to see what the Ministry's reaction would be. Moody would agree to her story (or at least most of it), and after Harry suggested to Bones about searching the Azkaban graves for Barty Crouch Jr's body (and it was discovered missing), they would be hard pressed to refute her story. Especially considering she had the backing of Rita Skeeter, Dumbledore and Lockhart.

Well. Rita would continue to back her so long as her story held attention, at least. Which was fine by Harry. It was a symbiotic relationship.

Let's see how much of a coward you really are, Fudge, Harry thought softly. Will you try and deny this, too afraid to admit the truth, or will you attempt to save face and take a stand? Regardless, by the end of this year, you'll be gone…

(◡‿◡✿)

The Ministry's reply came back almost immediately. The very next day, Lockhart flooed straight into Sirius's living room. Sirius gave a startled shout, scrambling to pull a blanket over his bare legs (he was still only in his boxers… again), and Harry snorted.

Lockhart strode in, a wide smile on his face. "What an excellent turn around. Look at this, Harry! Look at this!"

Lockhart thrust the newspaper in Harry's face and she rolled her eyes, taking the newspaper and reading it over.

FUDGE DENIES EVERYTHING!

Harry laughed at that. "Oh, God, that idiot."

Minister Fudge emphasizes that You-Know-Who is not back.

"The only thing I know is that Barty Crouch Jr infiltrated Hogwarts and turned the Cup into a Portkey," Fudge told the beautiful Rita Skeeter. "Cedric doesn't remember seeing anything other than someone walking towards them, which was probably Crouch. And if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named really had returned, why isn't he doing anything? There have been no criminal activities to make us think that he has returned. Miss Potter must clearly be mistaken. And how do we know Crouch hadn't placed a memory charm over her? We don't!"

Who is right? Who is wrong? Find out in…

Harry looked amused and handed the paper back to Lockhart. "Is that all he has to say?"

"Well, he's certainly doing everything in his power to make it seem like we're liars," Lockhart said, positively beaming and handing the paper to Sirius. "Isn't this great?"

"I fail to see how this constitutes as great," Sirius said, scanning over the paper.

"It's going to raise our publicity," Harry explained to Sirius. "A fight between the public's darlings and the Ministry. It's basically one giant pissing contest."

"We'll win of course," Lockhart said smoothly. "Of that, I have no doubt. The public loves us far too much, and with Harry agreeing for me to start marketing a few… toys… on her behalf…"

Harry rolled her eyes.

"Although there is one other thing you can do to really give us a push in positive light," Lockhart said, grinning.

Harry frowned. "What?"

"Have you heard of familiar racing?" Lockhart asked slowly. "It's all the rage. A rather rich and influential fellow started it up." Harry's eyes widened at the mention of Moratorium's races. "A tournament is being held around Christmas, and to enter you have to win one of the preliminary races. It so happens that there's a preliminary race coming up soon…"

"You want me to enter, and win the tournament?" Lockhart nodded his head. "Well, I'm perfectly okay with that."

"How is winning an extremely popular, highly-sought-after-for-tickets tournament good for publicity?" Sirius asked, then frowned. "Oh. I think I answered my own question."

Harry smiled. "That you did. Alright, Lockhart, what do you want to do about the Ministry?"

"First, we should probably go ahead and have you officially checked for memory charms by several objective Aurors," Lockhart said. "That way they can't argue that point anymore. I don't suppose you'd be willing to give your memories in a pensieve?"

Harry shook her head. "There are things that happened that night that I don't really want to go public."

"Understandable," Sirius said immediately, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Lockhart shrugged. "So be it. Leave it to me, Harry. I've always wanted to go to war with the Ministry and win. It's such an exciting thought, don't you think?"

"Of course, Lockhart. Let me know if you need anything, won't you?"

Lockhart waved his hand dismissively. "Doubtful I will need anything. Good day, Harry. Nice to see you again, Sirius."

"Bye, Lockhart," Harry chirped and Sirius wiggled his fingers goodbye.

Titan, who was still asleep in Harry's lap, gave a snort and rolled over. Harry looked down fondly at her pet.

(◡‿◡✿)

The war had begun.

It wasn't an actual war. There were no deaths, or torturings, or anything of the sort. But, between Lockhart and Fudge, the Daily Prophet was making sales from left to right. It was a constant debate between the two, and neither side was giving ground easily (however, it seemed like the majority of people agreed with Lockhart from what Marwyn told Moratorium. Marwyn even said you would have to be an idiot to take such a threat so badly and not even consider it).

The race was scheduled roughly a week before school, so Harry had plenty of time. For the moment, though, she was focused on her meeting with Dumbledore.

The meeting that was taking place at that very moment.

Roughly a week and a half after the wordy-war began, Harry found herself shifting nervously in Dumbledore's office. He sat across from her, at his desk. Tom sat in the window seat, his arms folded across his chest and he stared out, his face turned away so Harry couldn't see it.

Tom had been rather… quiet since their conversation.

Harry really hated it.

"I…" Harry began softly, shifting nervously.

She had thought long and hard on how to come out on top of this situation. Moratorium hated her idea. He was especially mad at Tom for making her do it, but he wouldn't stop Harry. It was what Harry wanted, so Moratorium consented.

He was still right furious at Tom, though.

"I… I lied," Harry whispered. "I… never destroyed the diary. I had thought to use it to my advantage. I thought… I thought…" Harry shook her head, her stomach churning. "It doesn't matter what my original intentions were, though. They're rather null and void now."

Dumbledore shifted, frowning faintly.

"I know how he's still alive," Harry finally said nervously. "I… I know how to stop him, too."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Harry…"

"I can't tell you exactly what they are," Harry continued, "but I need help finding them. He's hidden parts of… he's hidden anchors all over the world. So long as those anchors are there, he can't leave this world. We have to… we have to bring them together and I… I need to perform a certain ritual."

"Harry, this is all rather vague," Dumbledore said gently. "What exactly are these anchors? How do you know this?"

"I can't tell you," Harry whispered, closing her eyes and feeling the dread knot in her stomach. She was starting to get light-headed and her hands were shaking.

"Harry, you can trust me," Dumbledore said softly. "I—"

"I can't," Harry blurted out, standing up, her eyes opening wide. Her eyes were starting to sting, but she ignored it. She was starting to lose some of her nerve."I can't and you can't ask me to."

Harry's eyes snuck a peek over at Tom, at her first… her first friend to know all sides of her. And her first friend to accept all sides of her. She suddenly found some renewed strength in her decision. She took a deep, shaky breath.

Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly at her outburst. "Why ever not?"

And Harry turned around, and she lifted up her shirt and presented her back to Dumbledore.

All of a sudden she felt sick and ashamed. She felt like she was put up on some kind of pedestal in a cage, and she was being poked and prodded at and laughed at. They were her marks; her mistakes. They were her constant reminder that once upon a time she was docile and subservient and such a good girl and because of that… because of that…

Worst of all, it was an adult who saw them now. Someone who Harry already built up a picture of her being strong and defiant and not-quite a good girl for. It was like all of that became meaningless and despite all the years, all the changes, Harry was back to being that girl.

She didn't want to be that girl.

She didn't want anyone to know about that girl.

Not someone who wouldn't even understand, anyway. And he wouldn't. He was one of them.

But she had to. She had to because it was the only way.

Harry was breathing heavily, and her cheeks felt kind of wet, but she held perfectly still because Dumbledore hadn't made a single movement or sound.

Tom was staring at her with wide, horrified eyes.

"Harry," Tom whispered, standing up from the window and advancing to her.

"Harry," Dumbledore echoed, and Harry could hear the clear horror and pain in his voice. Slowly, Harry lowered her shirt back down and wiped furiously at her eyes.

And suddenly Dumbledore was beside her, and Harry saw him staring at her with eyes that somehow seemed centuries older than they should have been. He seemed hesitant and uncertain.

"I…" Dumbledore began, his face twisted with pain. "I…"

"You see," Harry whispered. "You see now why I can't trust you. It's… It was adults that put me in this mess. It was adults that kept me in that mess. It was adults that gave me that. I don't think I can ever… I don't… I don't know if I can ever…"

Harry took a deep, shaky breath. "I… I don't know if I can ever truly trust you. The only thing I know now, is that I don't and you haven't given me reason to."

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Dumbledore whispered. "I had… I had no idea. I knew… I knew Petunia was jealous of your mother, but I also knew she loved her. I thought… I thought that in time she would love you, too."

Harry gave a choked laugh. "Love me? Don't… don't make me laugh, Professor. It doesn't matter now, though. They're gone. And I don't ever want to see them again. Padfoot… Padfoot is good. He's… he's not really one of them."

"Sirius always did have the heart of a child," Dumbledore said softly, and wearily looked out the window. "I don't know what to say, Harry. I've failed you too many times."

"Then don't fail me now," Harry said quietly. "I need your help. Please, Professor. Give me a reason to trust you."

Dumbledore closed his eyes and for a long moment, he did not respond. And when he did open his eyes, there was a new light to them. A determined light.

"I will, Harry. I can't fix the past, but I can help shape the future," Dumbledore said quietly. "What can you tell me about these anchors?"

Harry gave a small smile.

(◡‿◡✿)

After the meeting with Dumbledore, Harry pleaded a headache to Sirius and hid up in her room. She was curled up on her bed, the occasional shake still raking through her body, her legs tucked up and her chin on her knees.

Tom sat beside her, watching her with an unreadable expression.

"You told him about yourself. You… You told one of them about yourself," Tom said quietly. "Because you knew… you knew he wouldn't press. You manipulated him with your past."

Harry curled up tighter, not responding.

"You've been trying to forget your past," Tom whispered, "but you brought it back in front of one of them so that way… so that way…"

"It was what you wanted," Harry mumbled.

Tom looked down at his lap, fiddling a little bit with his fingers.

"Harry, I—"

"You're one of my closest friends, Tom," Harry continued. "If it meant keeping you around longer… if it meant keeping you happy… I would do it all over again."

"You weren't even ready to tell Hermione," Tom whispered, his voice faint. "You definitely weren't ready to tell Dumbledore, but yet…"

Harry gave a slight shrug, choosing not to respond verbally right away.

"It had to be done," Harry said quietly.

Tom shook his head. "It shouldn't have had to be done. I…"

Silence fell between the two.

"I'm sorry."

Harry paused at the voice. It was almost child-like with it's rather hopeful and pleading tone. There was a fearful edge to it, and Harry finally lifted her head and really looked at Tom.

He was staring down at his hands, still fiddling with his fingers, but his eyes were dark and his face contorted with a conflicted expression. He was stiff and his eyes kept flickering to hers.

Harry opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She wasn't quite sure what to say. So she moved closer to Tom, and she grabbed his hands, and even though she couldn't physically touch him, she could still feel his hands in hers.

"I'm not mad, Tom," Harry said gently, staring down at his hands. His fingers stopped moving. "And I don't blame you. It was my choice, in the end. And I don't regret it. So… So don't worry, okay? Don't… don't think I'm mad at you, either. You're my best friend."

Tom closed his eyes and he seemed to almost sag. "Okay."

And a comfortable silence fell between the two.

"You know…"

Harry looked up at Tom, frowning questioningly.

"I wasn't born in the Wizarding world," Tom whispered. "My mum was a witch, but my father was a Muggle. She died during childbirth and left me at the orphanage. I was named after him, you know. Tom Riddle was his name."

Harry knew this. Voldemort had told her so long ago, but she treated it like new information. Because as far as she was concerned, it was. It was Tom's story she was interested in. And it was Tom's story that mattered to her.

"Thank you for telling me this," Harry whispered.

"Thank you for listening," Tom replied quietly.

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry giddily tugged on Sirius's hand, dragging him through the crowd of people. Harry's summer had passed by rather quickly. She had visited Neville, Hermione and the Weasleys for the majority of it (although she did visit Krum with Hermione), and was planning to watch one of Oliver's games before school started (he got her and Sirius rather excellent tickets). There was still a deadlock between her and the Ministry, but it was mostly bickerings of he said and she said. Harry wasn't all that concerned about it, and Moratorium wasn't, either.

Harry did eventually have to explain to Sirius why there was a floating egg following her around. She deftly reminded him that she fulfilled her end of the deal with the whole not-purposely-endangering-herself during the school year and so she had rewarded herself with any choice of creature.

Sirius looked a little horrified about the egg, and even more horrified at the fact that Harry refused to tell him what was inside. Oddly enough, he didn't question the whole floating-egg part, only the egg.

"Harry!"

Harry turned around to find Hermione rushing to her. Hermione threw herself at her, hugging her tightly. "Are you insane?! Have you seen some of these racers? Oh, Harry, I don't think this is such a good idea…"

"Good to see you again, Hermione," Sirius said.

Hermione looked sheepish, pulling back from Harry and offering a smile for Sirius. "Sorry, Sirius. I finished looking at the competition, you see… And I've been reading the rules extensively. The rules are practically anything goes! Well, anything legal. So long as you stay in the track, don't use illegal spells, curses, jinxes, and don't abuse the animals, anything can go. And in almost all the races, half of the racers get sent to the hospital!"

"I know. Isn't it wonderful?" Harry asked excitedly. Sirius frowned.

"Wait… hospital? Harry, you told me this was perfectly safe!"

"Yes. For me. I can't say it's safe for the other racers, though. Besides, I'll be on Buckbeak for this one. I'll be fine. And in the next race I'll be on Basileus, and you know no one is going to be stupid enough to try and mess with me then."

Sirius continued to frown. "Vix, I know you're a bloody good witch, but you're not immortal."

"Yet," Tom said.

_Shut up. I'm not obsessed with immortality like you are._

"Yet," Tom said again, smiling in amusement.

"I'll be fine," Harry emphasized. "Besides, I already signed the contract, so I can't back out now."

Hermione looked less than pleased at that, and Sirius sighed.

"Now come on. Hagrid agreed to bring Buckbeak and I want to shower him with love and affection before the race," Harry said pleasantly. With a skip in her step, she grabbed Sirius' and Hermione's hands and guided them through the crowd. She finally reached the racers' quarter, maneuvering through the griffins, pegasuses, wyverns, and other flying creatures to find her darling Buckbeak.

Hagrid was finishing giving Buckbeak some food when he noticed her. "Oh, 'ello 'Arry."

"Hey, Hagrid. How's Buckbeak?"

"Fine, fine. Yeh sure yeh don' wan' a saddle?"

"Psh. Of course."

"What?" Hermione shrieked. "You don't have a saddle?"

Harry rolled her eyes. "I hate saddles, and so does Buckbeak. This is way more comfortable. Besides, it gives me more maneuverability and it doesn't add unnecessary weight."

"That's true," Sirius said reluctantly. "Weight adjustment and speed charms are prohibited, so any unnecessary weight is frowned upon."

"And I don't wear a saddle with a broom, so why should this be any different?" Harry reasoned.

Hermione huffed. "Because no one is trying to shoot you off your broom, while they'll definitely try to shoot you off this! Besides, haven't you considered that perhaps some… some… Death Eaters might try to enter the race and… and…!"

"I hope some do. That would be interesting."

Hermione threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.

_You will tell me if you see anyone about to kill me, won't you?_

"Of course," Tom said, looking mildly offended. "If you die, I die."

"Well, the race is about to begin. Are you ready, my darling Buckbeak?"

Buckbeak nuzzled her cheek affectionately and Harry cooed at him. Hagrid grinned at both of them. "Good luck, yeh two."

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry giggled with glee, firing off three Stupefys at the nearest racers. Sixty-five racers comprised the aerial race. The track was entirely in the air, having seventeen goal posts that each racer had to go through before returning to the ground for the finish line. There were many referees scattered across the track, all prepared to catch any falling victim and call out fouls.

Harry kept her wand strapped to her calf, squeezing Buckbeak with her legs as she pointed her finger at numerous other racers, knocking the majority of them out. A fair few were able to repel her first attacks, but that made her more persistent.

By the time Harry made it to the first goal post, the initial sixty-five had dwindled down to a lowly twenty.

"Come on, Buckbeak, let's show 'em who's the superior breed," Harry urged. Buckbeak pumped his wings furiously and flew past a hissing wyvern.

"Behind you, left," Tom said. He was sitting back-to-back with Harry.

Harry pulled out her wand from her calf-holster and pulled up a repelling charm in time. She didn't even turn around.

"Behind you, straight back," Tom said again, a couple moments later. Harry put up another repelling charm. He adjusted his egg, holding it closer to his body. "Would you tell your clumsy beast to be more graceful? I don't want my egg falling to the ground!"

"Buckbeak is already a graceful creature," Harry objected, adjusting her goggles. "Right, darling?"

Buckbeak gave a purr in agreement.

"Go for a Stupefy, directly behind you on my mark," Tom said, already bending over to not get in the way. "Three… two… go!"

Harry turned around and shot out a Stupefy at an unsuspecting racer.

"Excellent," Tom said.

"I wonder if this constitutes as cheating," Harry wondered.

"It doesn't," Moratorium whispered in her ear. "And if it does, I'll bend the rules for you, dear."

Harry smiled at that. "Then we're bound to win at this rate."

(◡‿◡✿)

"It was worth it," Harry said, clutching her broken arm and grinning stupidly. She was a bit dazed with her concussion. "I won, didn't I?"

Hermione continued to glare at her. "I can't believe that you did that."

"I wanted to fly on my own for a bit."

"You jumped off Buckbeak!"

"And knocked the racer in front of me off his mount. Then I used his gorgeous mount as a good place to jump from to reach the finish line with Buckbeak. There's nothing in the rules saying you have to actually be on your mount to finish the race."

"You broke your arm," Hermione shrieked.

"I thought it would be cool," Harry whined. "And it was cool, wasn't it, Padfoot?"

Sirius, who had been fretting over Harry's arm, awarded Harry with an unimpressed look. "It was cool… right up to the moment you crash landed."

Harry shrugged. "Worth it. It was completely fun to do."

"You are forbidden from doing it again," Sirius said sternly. "Otherwise you're grounded."

Harry whined. "B-But—"

She fell silent when Hermione and Sirius glared at her.

"If it makes you feel any better, you have my support in this," Tom whispered.

_At least someone has my side._

"I'm all for you looking like a complete idiot," Tom said, smiling slyly.

_I'll see you in hell._

"I'll be waiting," Tom promised.

(◡‿◡✿)

"I don't see what the big deal is," Harry said pointedly, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's a good movie," Hermione insisted. Hermione was staying with Harry for the rest of the summer—which only had two more days left. "Besides, you said you've never been to the movies before."

Harry frowned. "Yeah… so?"

"It's something everyone should get a chance to do," Hermione declared. "Come on, I'm paying."

Harry sighed, but didn't object anymore after Hermione purchased the snacks, drinks, and tickets.

"At least it's an interesting movie," Tom said. Harry, who had to be carrying Tom's egg—as a floating egg was not exactly a common thing with Muggles—gave him an appraising look.

(◡‿◡✿)

"Not bad," Harry said. Hermione looked pleased at that. "The movie was bloody good, and this candy is delicious. Oh. Hang on. Bathroom."

Hermione laughed. "You were crossing your legs the last ten minutes."

"I didn't want to miss anything," Harry said, flushing in embarrassment. "I'll be right back."

Harry hurried to the restroom, handing Tom the egg. There was another girl in the bathroom, but she seemed completely focused talking on her phone, her back turned to them. Tom rolled his eyes, but stood outside her stall. Some moments later, Harry let out a sigh, exited the stall and washed her hands.

Or tried to.

She stared at the mirror, watching as it began to frost over. She tried turning the faucet, but found that it was also frozen.

"Oh, bollocks," Harry muttered. She pulled out her wand, about to exit the bathroom and see what was going on, but a faint, quiet scream stopped her. It was more like a squeak, but the pure, unadulterated fear behind it conveyed that it was trying to be a scream.

Harry turned back around.

The girl had dropped her phone, her eyes going vacant as a Dementor floated above her.

"Bollocks," Harry said again, pointing her wand. "Expecto Patronus!"

A fox erupted from the tip of Harry's wand, barreling into the Dementor and slamming the creature into a bathroom stall. Harry grabbed the catatonic girl and dragged her out of the bathroom, looking for Hermione.

Hermione ran to her, shivering. "Harry, is everything okay? What happened? What's wrong with her?"

"There's a Dementor in the bathroom," Harry said, completely serious.

"What?" Hermione demanded, her eyes bulging. "But how did it get in there…?"

Harry shrugged, releasing her grip on the girl. The girl dropped to her knees, her expression still vacant. "Don't know. Don't care. Let's take care of it."

Hermione gave a firm nod and the two re-entered the bathroom to find… nothing.

"Well, bollocks," Harry said again, "there's a rogue Dementor loose."

Hermione peered around the bathroom. "Why is there such a big window in the bathroom?"

"Peeping toms?" Harry suggested.

Hermione crinkled her nose, staring at the open window. "We'll have to file a report now with the Ministry. They'll need to know about the Dementor. Let's head back to your place."

"Mm-hmm," Harry hummed, frowning. She had a sneaky feeling where this was going.

(◡‿◡✿)

At the precise moment Harry entered her home, Hermione hot on her heels, an owl swooped in behind them. Sirius popped his head out of kitchen, frowning as he headed to the living room where the owl was at. He was dressed in his pajamas, and the two girls followed behind him.

Harry took the letter that the owl was carrying, opening it and reading it out loud.

Dear Missus Potter,

We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at seventeen minutes past eight this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle.

The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand.

Harry snorted. "They are welcome to try."

"Harry, this is serious!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What's this all about?" Sirius asked.

Harry explained the situation while Hermione paced anxiously. "They can't really take away your wand and expel you. This is your first offense! Besides, that's much too severe. Oooh, we need to get to Dumbledore…"

Harry shrugged. "Sure. Whatever. Oh, wait. I should talk to Lockhart—I bet we can twist the story into a classic biased case. That'll be interesting. And I'll talk to Rita."

"Harry, this isn't a time to think about your publicity," Hermione scolded.

Sirius frowned. "I don't know… I mean, she doesn't seem all that bothered to get expelled."

Harry shrugged. "I can always sneak back onto Hogwarts. I bet Dumbledore could come up with some crack-pot idea to let me on the grounds. I simply won't be 'learning'. Worse comes to worst, Lupin will have to teach me full time and I'll be forced to hang out with you guys 24/7."

Sirius grinned. "Oh, bummer."

"I know, right?"

Hermione sighed.

"I'll go talk to Lockhart and Rita now," Harry sung, sauntering away.

"Wait, there's another owl," Hermione said. Sure enough, another owl swooped in and Sirius plucked the letter and glanced over it. Harry and Hermione looked at him expectantly.

"Dumbledore's working on it. Go ahead and mail your contacts," Sirius said, folding up the letter and putting it in his front pocket.

Harry grinned brightly, hurrying up to her room. Hermione gave a put-upon sigh, following after her. Tom waited outside while the two girls changed in their pajamas and Harry wrote and sent out her letters. When the trio (Tom now carrying his egg again) returned, Sirius informed them that a trial was scheduled tomorrow.

(◡‿◡✿)

"Huh," Harry said, "so this is the Ministry."

Sirius rolled his eyes, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder and guiding her away. Hermione trailed behind the duo, examining the place with sharp eyes. She wasn't all that impressed with the Ministry—as she was still rather annoyed at them for calling her friend a liar on the whole Voldey-whatever-his-name-was case.

"It's hideous," Tom said distastefully. "Harry, you have my full support if you want to, I don't know, completely destroy this place and rebuild it in a better image."

_Good to know. I'll keep that in mind._

"So where are we going?" Harry asked.

"Well, you're going to the trial room," Sirius said pointedly. "Hermione and I will be enjoying a very lovely breakfast."

Harry pouted. "But my back-up hasn't arrived yet!"

"Dumbledore thinks they'll pull a fast one and up the time," Sirius said. " go straight down that hallway, and tell the elevator-guy where you need to be. He'll get you there. If anyone touches you without consent, castrate them. If anyone offers you candy, set them on fire. If anyone—"

"Elevator-guy?" Harry said blankly, still stuck on the improper wording.

Sirius gave her a glare. "You can go on your own from here on out, smart-arse."

Harry grinned. "Yessir. Hermione, try to keep him out of trouble."

Hermione gave Sirius a dubious look. "I'll try."

Harry turned and walked away, Tom floating behind her. She went ahead and casted two Patronuses to inform her back-up of the change in plans and where she was heading.

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry stared at the door, looking annoyed at it. She had run into Malfoy—talking in hushed tones with another cloaked man—and had him escort her to the correct place.

"Here you are, Potter," Lucius said.

"Thank you, dear," Harry said absently. "Any advice?"

Lucius smirked at her, but didn't say anything. Harry rolled her eyes and he turned and left.

She entered the dungeon, examining the fact that the walls were made of dark stone, dimly lit by blue-fire torches. Empty benches rose on either side of her, but ahead, in the highest benches of all, were many shadowy figures. They had been talking in low voices, but as the heavy door swung closed behind Harry, a somber silence fell.

A cold male voice rang across the courtroom.

"You're late."

"Whatever," Harry dismissed, taking a seat in the chair of the center of the room. By the time she had taken a seat, the benches were full. There were about fifty of them, in all, each wearing plum-colored robes with elaborated silver Ws on the left side of the chest. In the middle of the front row sat Fudge.

"Very well," said Fudge. "The accused being present—finally—let us begin. Are you ready?"

"Wait," Harry said.

Fudge looked at her with narrowed eyes.

The door opened again, and none other than Rita Skeeter strolled in.

"What are you doing here?" Fudge demanded.

Harry smiled slowly. "There's no law against a reporter being in the trial room. Honestly, you really need to reconsider your loopholes, Fudge. I called her here—she'll be reporting on the Daily Prophet's behalf."

Fudge flushed. "W-Well that's…"

"Don't mind me," Rita purred, standing next to Harry, several notepads floating around her with multiple pens. "Pretend I'm not here."

Everyone—save Rita and Harry—looked uncomfortable with this, and exchanged glances. However, Harry was right. There was no law against a reporter in the trial room. Mostly because none had the gall to try when they knew it would only annoy the Ministry. However, Rita was already on the Ministry's frowning side. She had nothing to lose.

"Then are we ready?"

"No," Harry said, sighing in a bored tone. "I have to pee."

Fudge gave her an annoyed look and she narrowed her eyes in a threatening manner. He paled and cleared his throat. "W-Well the ac-accused will have to wait."

"You're denying my right to release bodily functions?" Harry demanded in a very hurt tone. "Are you getting this, Rita? Denying my own rights. What if I have an accident? This is a public place! That sort of thing is traumatizing. Is the Ministry trying to traumatize me?"

"Of course not," Bones said smoothly. "I'm sure we can wait a few more minutes for you to take a bathroom break."

"I don't actually need to," Harry sniffed. "But thank you for clarifying that I could."

Fudge's face turned an interesting shade of purple. He took several deep breaths before he began again, his voice ringing. "Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August into offenses committed under the Decree for Reasonable Restrictions of Underage Sorcery and International Statute of Secrecy by Harriet Lily Potter. Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley—"

Harry wiggled her fingers in hello to Percy. He offered her a small smile.

"—Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said a quiet voice from behind Harry. Harry didn't glance back and Rita scribbled furiously in her notepads.

The members of the Wizengamot muttered amongst each other. All eyes were on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, some frightened, and others amused.

"Ah," said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. "Dumbledore. Yes. You—er—got our—er—message that the time and—er—place of the hearing had been changed, then?"

"I must have missed it," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done."

"Yes—well—The charges. Yes." He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him and started to read. "The charges against the accused are as follows: That she did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of her actions, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the eleventh at seventeen past eight that evening, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Satute of Secrecy.

"You are Harriet Lily Potter?" Fudge asked, giving Harry a dubious look.

"Yep," Harry said.

"You conjured a Patronus on the night of the eleventh of August?"

"Yep. A fox. As always," Harry said, giving a wink at Rita. "I love learning new spells."

"A corporeal Patronus, my, my," Rita said, a gleam in her eyes. Although, she already knew this, as it was Harry's fox that brought her down here in the first place.

Bones awarded Harry with an unsurprised, but appraising look.

"And you did this, fully aware of the consequences?" Fudge demanded.

"Nope."

"An—what?"

Harry tilted her head. "Well, there have been cases of this outside of me that involved students using magic outside of school. None of them involved immediate expulsion without several trials and careful thought."

"Immediate expulsion?" Rita squeaked.

"Oh, yes. You see, I received a letter not a minute after I returned home that said I was expelled," Harry said, turning to Rita. "Can anyone think of a case where that happened before? No one? I thought not. Doesn't that seem biased, Rita?"

Rita's smile took a predatory edge to it.

"W-Well," Fudge blustered, "this is different."

"Really?" Dumbledore asked, curious. "How so?"

Fudge pursed his lips.

"I feel so persecuted!" Harry exclaimed, giving a woeful sigh. "This judge-panel is biased! They can't be objective. I demand a retrial and a compensation award."

"There will be no compensation award or retrial," Fudge squawked.

"But you aren't denying that you're biased?" Harry demanded.

Fudge flushed again. "W-Well—"

"W-Well," Harry quoted, mockingly. "Well, I think I made my point. Besides, I had every right to defend myself against a Dementor."

A small, toad-like lady peered down at Harry, frowning. "Excuse me, but did you say… ehum… Dementor?"

"Yep. Hey. You know what, isn't that funny… aren't the Dementors supposed to be under the Ministry's control?" Harry asked slyly. "You know what… I wonder what would happen if I gave Rita my memory in a Pensieve—or, I don't know - made copies of it and sent them to all the people I know. I wonder how the world would react that a Ministry's creature attacked me."

"We did no such thing," Fudge snapped.

"My memories say otherwise," Harry sung. "Wanna see?"

Fudge stood up from his chair, his face purple. "Enough of this. We'll vote now, unless the defendant has anything more to add."

"Fudge is a pansy and anyone who sides with him is a coward," Harry said.

"Don't you take this seriously? You could be expelled," Bones said dryly.

Harry shrugged. "So? Give me more time to work on my army to overthrow the Ministry."

"Army?" Fudge squeaked, looking absolutely petrified.

Tom gave him an incredulous expression.

Harry gave him a blank look, noticing how he was very much taking her sarcastic statement literally. "Yes. I am the general of an elite ninja-wizard army. Even as we speak, my ninjas are advancing on this room and are prepared to kill you, Fudge. We will overthrow the government and take over the world."

Fudge cowered away from her.

"See?" Harry said, gesturing towards his pale, shaking form. "Do you see this kind of idiocy? And you all actually think he's in the right? My, God, you're idiots if you side with him. Make sure you get that down, Rita. See if you can snap a few pictures of the cowering man."

"I-I am not cowering," Fudge objected weakly (Tom snorted at that). "Now we vote. Now. All in favor of Harry's expulsion, raise your hand."

Only he and the toad-lady raised their hands.

Harry folded her arms across her chest, sat back in the chair and winked at Fudge. "Oh, look. My ninja's right behind you."

Fudge squealed, scrambling out of his chair, turning around and firing off a Stupefy. It hit the wall behind him lamely.

"I think you made your point, Harry," Dumbledore said.

"He called me a liar," Harry defended, "I'm repaying the favor. Besides, I had to wake up far too early for this meeting."

"Then I hereby sentence this meeting to a close, and clear all charges," Bones sighed.

Harry left the room, Rita sprinting past her to get this juicy information on the next paper, and Dumbledore left before Harry could talk to him. Harry did not return to Sirius or Hermione right away, choosing instead to walk into the shadows. She headed down a corridor and finally came face to face with Marwyn.

"Tell Moratorium I said thanks," Harry said, smiling slowly.

Efface stepped out from behind Marwyn and Marwyn bowed his head. "Of course. Always happy to help such a close friend of Moratorium's."

"Good call on getting Marwyn and Efface to cast a Fearful Compulsion Charm on Fudge," Tom said. "Fudge may be a coward, but he'll do his damndest to hide the fact."

Harry only continued to smile. It was Marwyn and Efface that Harry had sent her second fox to.

"Farewell, Madam," Marwyn said, bowing lowly. Efface mimicked the action. Moments later, the two had Apparated away.

Harry snickered quietly to herself, turning and heading off to find her friends.

(◡‿◡✿)

"And that's all that happened. You can read more about it in tomorrow's paper," Harry told Hermione and Sirius, stuffing her face with another burrito. "Why does this taste so good?"

Hermione shook her head, and Sirius was grinning widely. "That's my little Vix."

Hermione sighed. "I can't believe Fudge crumpled like that and took you so seriously."

Harry shrugged, nonplussed. "He's an idiot, what can I say? Oh, we should probably start packing, though. Going back to school tomorrow and whatnot."

Sirius whined. "I don't want you to."

Harry patted his shoulder comfortingly. "There, there. You'll have lots of fun at the joke shop."

"I'll be so lonely!"

"You will not. Lupin will keep you company."

"It's not the same!"

"You'll live," Harry dismissed. Sirius pouted, finally stopping short of the apartment's front door. Harry finished eating her burrito, rolled up the wrapper and crumpled it in her hands. Hermione raised an eyebrow at Sirius.

Sirius finally sighed and opened the door. Harry tossed the wrapper in the nearest trashcan before she headed upstairs. Hermione followed behind her.

"Missus Potter," Dobby squeaked, appearing in Harry's room as the girl sat her coat down on the bed, "letter for you."

Harry took the letter, giving a quiet thank you to Dobby before she opened it. She dumped the contents on her bed.

There, just lying there, was a Prefect's badge.

In her envelope, there was an extra note. Hermione beamed at Harry. "Oh, Harry, congratulations!"

Harry examined the note, pursing her lips. She knew what Dumbledore was trying to do. The Prefects held positions of power and had certain rights. Rights such as leaving the dormitory at odd hours and not be questioned—let it only be assumed that they were 'patrolling'. By granting that ability to Harry, it allowed her to further her own research into the horcruxes without adult supervision.

It was a gesture of trust on Dumbledore's part.

Harry's lips quirked into a smile. "Thank you, Hermione. I'm surprised you weren't chosen."

Hermione turned a pretty shade of pink. "I don't think I would want the extra duties, what with OWLs coming up."

"Oh. Damn, didn't think about OWLs," Harry sighed. "I would much rather face Voldey-whatever off in an epic battle."

"Please. You'd rather do that over anything," Hermione said archly.

"Except cuddle with Basileus," Tom said smoothly.

"Shuddup," Harry told both of them.

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry had to wait until everyone in the house was asleep before she climbed out her window, flew to the park and changed into Moratorium.

Marwyn arrived right on time, Efface right behind them. No words were exchanged as Moratorium gripped Marwyn's shoulder and the two disappeared with a sharp snap.

Moratorium's eyes drifted around the new room. Marwyn and Efface stood a little ways behind him. Marwyn looked completely at ease, his shoulders straight and his weight shifted to the balls of his feet. His blond hair was tied in a low ponytail and he clasped his hands behind his back. Efface, who stood a good foot shorter than Marwyn, was anything but relaxed. His entire body was tense, alert, and though Moratorium could not see his hands through Efface's large, black cloak, he knew they would be resting on both of his weapons. Efface kept his large hood up, obscuring the majority of his face, while Marwyn kept his hood down, leaving his face completely open and welcoming.

The two radiated very different vibes, but both were efficient tools and Moratorium quite liked them.

Moratorium tilted his head when he heard the soft footsteps of his hostess. Narcissa Malfoy entered the flooing room, her eyes immediately settling on Moratorium. Moratorium idly adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, allowing Narcissa time to process that Moratorium was actually in her home. The woman was mostly composed. She was pale before she knew about Moratorium's presence, but grew even more so when she noticed him. She looked tired and rather stressed, but Moratorium thought that was perfectly understandable given the circumstances regarding Voldemort and her family.

"Madam Malfoy," Moratorium murmured quietly, tipping his suit hat down slightly. "I do hope you'll forgive the surprise visit. I so very much wanted to meet with you in person."

Narcissa still seemed surprised, but she recovered quickly enough. Squaring her shoulders and tilting her head up, she awarded Moratorium with a regal look. "Mr. Moratorium, I presume? I've only seen pictures of you, so I must confess my surprise at meeting you in person."

Moratorium gave her a thin smile. "Indeed. I'd prefer to remain out of the public's eye for quite some time. I'm sure your husband has informed you of who I truly am."

Narcissa only smiled thinly in return.

"Which is exactly why I'm here," Moratorium purred, beginning to move towards her at a lackadaisical prowl.

Narcissa's smile slipped for a moment before she plastered it back on. "Oh?"

"Yes. Yes, you see… I am well aware of how your dear husband is a Death Eater and a rather trusted one, too."

"I assure you, I don't know—"

"Save it," Moratorium cut in, his voice clipped, and his eyes narrowing. He presented Narcissa with a small, black silk sack. His black gloved hand reached out for her own, and he placed the sack in her palm. "I have a rather interesting proposition for you, one that I know you won't refuse."

Narcissa withdrew her hand from Moratorium's grasp and opened the sack warily. Inside there was a Slytherin tie, a black glove, and a diamond necklace.

"What do you want? What is this?" Narcissa finally asked.

"I want… a spy," Moratorium said.

Narcissa's eyes widened. "You want me to spy on the Dark Lord for you?"

"Yes," Moratorium said simply. "You're the perfect spy, Madam Malfoy. To all eyes, you are the ideal pureblood wife. You are overlooked time and time again, because there has never been a reason to question you. You are not a fighter, nor does Voldewhore trust you with missions. He trusts your husband, though, and your husband trusts you. You are subservient, obedient, docile, and you would normally never betray your husband. And in nearly all instances that's true. However, you and I both know that there is one thing that can turn you into a cunning, manipulative, cut-throat witch."

Narcissa eyed Moratorium coolly.

"Your family," Moratorium purred and Narcissa's lips pursed angrily. "You love your family more than life itself and we both know that your husband already has a shaky relationship with the has-been. The only reason he's still alive is because he's still of some use, but how long will that last? And your son…? What use is he to the Dark Slut, if not for leverage against you and your husband? And we both know that the has-been wouldn't hesitate to snip loose ends if your son and husband prove non-advantageous to him."

"The Dark Lord would not…" Narcissa argued weakly.

"He would. You know he would," Moratorium said, smiling pleasantly. "However… I can protect them. Each of those items is a port-key created by myself. They will activate under certain circumstances, and they will activate simultaneously. They will activate with your voice command by saying we defect. They will take whomsoever wears them to a place where even he couldn't touch them. All you have to do is tell me whatever your husband tells you."

"You can't protect them from him," Narcissa said.

"I can. And it doesn't matter if you believe me or not," Moratorium dismissed, giving her a rather predatory smile. "I'm the only hope you have for them. And you know that's true."

Narcissa fell silent, looking away. After several minutes, she finally asked, her voice quiet, "How do I pass the information to you?"

Moratorium presented a small, compact mirror to her. "You will tell my dear servant, Marwyn, everything. You can contact him through this."

She took it hesitantly, holding it in her small hands. Moratorium gave a low, mocking bow, and turned away. He brushed past his two servants and extended his arm. Marwyn turned away and placed his hand over Moratorium's forearm and Efface placed his hand on Moratorium's shoulder.

"Have a pleasant day, Madam," Moratorium murmured, and in a snap,the trio was gone.

(◡‿◡✿)

The prefect cart was full, but Harry sat between Draco and Neville. The Head Boy—Cedric—and Girl—Daisy Donnah, some girl Harry never met previously—were the only ones standing. They were talking amiably about responsibilities and blah, blah, blah.

Harry was snoring quietly on Neville's shoulder. Draco shot her an annoyed look. The others didn't seem to mind so much. No one dared wake Harry up when she was asleep; after the whole incident last year most were too scared.

That, and no one actually minded her sleeping. Everyone had been keeping up with her war with the Ministry, and she was on fairly good terms with everyone there. She saved Cedric's life multiple times, was one of Draco's and Neville's closest friends, and the rest were flat out entertained by her.

Never a dull moment when Harry was around.

Unless she was asleep.

Like she was now.

And it wasn't so much that Draco minded her sleeping, so much as he minded her kicking him in her sleep.

"And that's everything you need to know," Cedric said happily. "Any questions?"

"Harry, wake up," Tom whispered in her ear.

Harry gave a groan and slowly opened her eyes, staring blearily at everyone around her. "What."

"Any questions?" Cedric repeated.

"Can I go?" Harry asked hopefully.

Cedric smiled warmly at her. "Whenever you want, Harry."

"Yes!" Harry cheered. "Come, Neville. Let's go abuse our position and power."

Neville gave a snort, trailing behind her. Draco rolled his eyes. When Pansy, the Slytherin girl prefect, gave him a wink, he shuddered and decided to follow after his friends.

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry was asleep, again, at the feast table. Hermione was giving her an annoyed expression, but didn't dare try and wake her. Tom had sat the egg down on the table, and floated above Harry, laying on his stomach and staring across the sea of students. The first years were anxious, lining up and taking in everything with wide, wide eyes. Neville sat on Harry's other side, and Ron across. Fred and George flanked Ron, with Ginny sitting next to Hermione.

"She's been like this all summer," Hermione complained.

"Having a dual personality that sneaks away and spends the majority of the nights taking over the underworld can do that to a person," Tom said dryly, knowing full well that they could not hear him.

"Maybe she's been having bad dreams," Ginny suggested, frowning.

Neville gave a hum. "Didn't she have some bad dreams about He-Who—er - Voldewhore?"

Hermione's brow furrowed. "She… She did mention that last year, didn't she?"

"Think they're bothering her again?" Ron asked.

Fred and George exchanged glances.

"She didn't—"

"—mention anything—"

"—of the like."

"Well something is keeping her up at night," Hermione pointed out anxiously, looking worried. "Sirius is the same, you know. But he's been working with the You-Know-What."

Tom rolled his eyes. "You can say Order of the Phoenix, you know. There are no spies over here, trust me. You damn Gryffindors are too goody-good."

Neville shook his head. "Maybe we should talk to Dumbledore?"

Hermione gave Harry another glance. "That's probably a good idea. She won't be able to do her OWLs at this rate."

"Yes," Ron said dryly, "because that's exactly what she's worried about."

Hermione blushed brightly. "Just because you don't see the importance, doesn't make it any less important, Ronald."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"This is boring," Tom lamented. "Wait… is that the toad-lady who sided with Fudge…?"

Tom peered at the woman clothed in pink. An idea formed in his head, and a sly smile curled on his lips.

When all the students had finished eating (minus Harry, who was still snoring) and the noise level started to creep up again, Dumbledore got to his feet. Talking ceased immediately and Dumbledore stood tall above them, smiling pleasantly.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First years ought to know the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students—and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too. Unless you have a very lethal, very hungry, and very big familiar that requires regular walks.

(There were many pointed looks at the sleeping Harry)

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking over Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the—"

"Hem, hem."

Dumbledore broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. It became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech. Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Umbridge.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

She moved to stand in the center, glancing across the sea of faces. Tom slowly floated down to Harry and brought his lips close to her ear.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking back at me—"

"Death Eaters have taken over the school and one of them is giving a speech in Dumbledore's usual spot right now," Tom whispered.

Immediately, Harry's eyes shot open and she shot up from her spot, her hand snapping out in Umbridge's direction.

"—I am very much looking forwar - urk!"

Harry's silent, wandless, Stupefy slammed into Umbridge, sending her flying past the staff table and out the window.

Harry blinked blearily, and Hermione shrieked.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, her voice shrill. "You sent our DADA professor out the window!"

Harry, still groggy from sleep, continued to stare blankly.

"Is this going to be a regular occurrence?" Dumbledore asked, an amused smile on his face. The first years were looking at Harry with wide eyes, while the older students shook their heads and were talking quietly amongst themselves.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Miss Potter," McGonagall said tiredly.

Harry shrugged. "Well, I'm a prefect, so… fifty points to Gryffindor. Go me."

Hermione swatted at her and McGonagall shot her a glare. "Seventy points from Gryffindor."

"Seventy points to - "

"Professor McGonagall, would you please make sure our latest professor is well?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

_I don't see any Death Eaters. Who'd I knock out the window?_

"Toad lady from the Ministry," Tom said.

_Oh. She's an idiot. I don't mind taking out an idiot._

When McGonagall had exited the hall, Harry muttered under her breath, "Seventy points to Gryffindor."

"Ninety points from Gryffindor!" McGonagall's voice rang.

"With that being said, however, I believe now is a good time for our students to head to their dorms," Dumbledore said.

"Right," Harry said, yawning. "Alright. Gryffindor First years, with me. Or else."

It was amusing to see so many tiny students scramble to follow Harry, all of them looking positively terrified at the prospect of or else. Neville sighed and followed behind her, doing his best to comfort some of them.

(◡‿◡✿)

"Settle down," Snape said coldly, shutting the door behind him. There was no real need to call for order; the moment the class had heard the door close, they had fallen quiet and all fidgeting stopped. Harry, however, was fighting off sleep. Something told her that sleeping in Snape's class probably wasn't the smartest idea.

"Before we begin today's lesson," he continued, sweeping over to his desk and staring at all of them, "I think it's appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an Acceptable in your OWL, or suffer my… displeasure.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me. I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye. But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell, so whether you are intending to attempt NEWT or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students.

"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at the Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: If you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing."

Snape flicked his wand. "The ingredients and method are on the blackboard you will find everything you need in the store cupboard, you have an hour and a half. Start."

Harry fought back a yawn. The potion wasn't too difficult—she had made some for Moratorium before—but it was still tedious and annoying to do.

"A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go.

Harry's and Hermione's were one of the very few that had the correct vapor. Snape swept by each cauldron, eyeing Harry's a moment longer before saying nothing—which meant that he could find nothing to criticize.

After Snape had finished surveying everyone's potion, he headed back to his desk. "Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing. Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."

When class had left, only Harry stayed behind, lingering a moment or two. She eyed Snape carefully, and he raised a thin eyebrow at her.

"I have a potions question," Harry told him.

"This ought to be good," Snape muttered under his breath.

"I remember reading a while ago, I think during my first year, that there are some potions that you can rub on runes to make them permanent," Harry said. "I can't find the text anywhere, and I haven't been able to find an adequate potions master who can give me the answer I'm looking for. You're sort of my last hope."

Snape gave Harry a very dry look. "There is a potion, but it's too advance for you, Potter."

Harry's eyebrow quirked. "Monsieur…"

Snape continued to give Harry a blank look. "It is too advanced for you."

Harry sighed, folding her arms across her chest and glaring. " tell me what it is, and I'll decide for myself!"

"No," Snape said curtly.

"I say we use Imperius," Tom suggested.

_I'm tempted._

"What do you want?" Harry finally asked, still glaring at Snape.

"You out of my classroom."

"Not until you tell me what I want to know," Harry said stubbornly. "Don't even think about taking away points, because I can guarantee you, I'll give 'em right back."

Snape's upper lip curled in distaste. In a velvety soft voice, he said, "Get out, Potter."

Harry pointedly sat back down in her chair. Snape took out his wand, and waved it. Before Harry could react, her chair went gliding out the door—her still in it—and the door slammed shut behind her. Harry scowled furiously at the closed door. "My stuff is still in there, you arse!"

The door did not open.

"That went well," Tom said.

Harry shot him a glare, too. "Moratorium's sources turned up dry, so I figured I'd try Harry's sources. And look! I found the person I need to find, but he turns out to be the most annoying piece of shite to have ever existed."

We could try Dumbledore, Moratorium suggested.

If I have to, Harry thought. But I would really prefer not to.

(◡‿◡✿)

Neville and Harry entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom together, with Tom trailing behind them at a lackadaisical pace. Hermione waved the duo over and Harry took a seat next to Hermione while Neville sat next to Ron. Umbridge already sat at the teacher's desk, wearing a fluffy pink cardigan and a black velvet bow on top of her head. When her eyes met Harry's, they narrowed into dangerous slits.

Harry smiled in return, wiggling her fingers in a taunting hello.

"Well, good afternoon!" Umbridge said, ignoring Harry for the moment.

A few people mumbled a reply.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chorused.

"There, now," she said sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

Most of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order 'wands away' had never been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. Harry tucked her wand back in her holster and pulled out quill, ink and parchment. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:

Defense Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" asked Umbridge rhetorically, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

Course aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

Tom's eyes narrowed. "Wait… a minute… Is she implying…?"

_Implying what?_

Tom's lips pursed, his brow furrowed as he stared in frustration at the board. "She can't really be implying…"

"Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

There was a murmur of assent in the class.

"I think we'll try that again," she said. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' or 'No, Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," rang through the room.

"Good," she said. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

Harry turned to page five of her copy and Tom hovered close to her to read over her shoulder. Tom's eyes narrowed into slits. "She is. She does mean to…"

_Quit speaking vaguely! What are you talking about?_

Tom jerked his head towards Hermione. "She's figured it out. Hear her out."

Harry stared at her friend, finding it odd that she hadn't even opened her book. Hermione was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air. Professor Umbridge, however, was looking as resolutely in another direction.

After several more minutes passed, Harry wasn't the only one watching Hermione. The chapter they had been instructed to read was apparently so tedious that more and more people chose to watch Hermione's mute attempt to catch Professor Umbridge's eye than read the chapter.

When more than half the class was staring at Hermione, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer.

"Do you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked, as though she had only noticed her.

"Not about the chapter, no," Hermione said.

"Well, we're reading now. If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," Hermione clarified.

Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

"And your name is—?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read through them carefully," Professor Umbridge said in a voice of rotten sweetness.

"Well, I don't," Hermione said bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

"Holy shite," Harry breathed, unable to help but glance at Tom. Tom nodded his head in approval. Hermione swatted Harry on her shoulder for her language.

"Using defensive spells?" Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class, are you?"

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained education expert, Miss Granger?"

"No, but—"

"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way—"

"What's the point of that?!" Harry demanded, her annoyance flaring at that horrible word of risk-free. "If we're going to be attacked it won't be in a—"

"Hand, Miss Potter!" Umbridge sung.

Harry's eyes narrowed in annoyance and her hand itched towards her wand. She resisted, however, and morphed her expression into that of a sweet girl. She then sat up straighter, and politely raised her hand.

Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from her again, but now several other people had their hands up, too.

"And your name is?"

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" Dean asked reasonably. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free—"

"I repeat," she said sweetly, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"Yes," Harry muttered rebelliously.

Umbridge either did not hear her, or chose to ignore her. "I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school, but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed—not to mention," she gave a nasty laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."

Harry stood up from her desk. "Excuse me? Did you insult my family?"

"Hand, Miss Potter!"

Harry's hands clenched into fists.

Relax, my dear, Moratorium cooed to her. You are a good girl and she is the teacher. Submit, my dear, on this.

She sat back down.

"As I was saying—you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day—"

Hermione shook her head. "No, we haven't. We —"

"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"

Hermione put her hand up; Professor Umbridge turned away from her.

"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you—"

"Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" said Dean Thomas hotly. "Mind you, we still shared loads—"

"Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!" shrilled Umbridge. "Now, it is the view of the Ministry that theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?"

"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practice bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the countercurses and things of the like?"

"As long as you studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," she said dismissively.

"What good does theory do in the real world?!" Harry snapped. Safely controlled environments. There was no such thing. There was no such thing as a safe place. Everywhere and every place had its weakness. Safely controlled environments… pfft!

_This woman… she reminds me of Petunia. I don't like her. I don't like her at all._

"This is school, Miss Potter, not the real world," she said softly.

"Oh, so it's all in my head then, is it?" Harry snarked.

"There is nothing waiting out there, Miss Potter."

Harry folded her arms across her chest and scoffed. "Really?"

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" inquired Professor Umbridge in her disgustingly honeyed voice.

"Hmmm… I don't know… Deranged-possessed teachers, a vengeful diary (Tom rolled his eyes at that one), a serial killer, or maybe, Voldemort?"

The fact that Harry said his name correctly, and did not make fun of it, went to show how irritated she was. Normally she would at least add some form of mockery to his name, but at that moment she was too annoyed to even really think about it.

Ron gasped; Lavender uttered a little scream; Neville paled. Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She stared at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Potter."

"Twenty points to Gryffindor, Umbridge," Harry sneered.

Umbridge's eyes widened marginally and she glowered darkly. "Now, let me make a few things quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead and is at large once again. This is a lie."

"It is not a lie," Harry snapped. "I may be a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them."

"Detention, Miss Potter!" said Umbridge triumphantly. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in any danger from any—"

Harry stood up from her desk. "To hell with this."

She grabbed her bag, swinging it over her shoulder and marching straight out of the classroom. Airily, she called out—not even glancing around—"If you all would like to continue learning from this toad, please stay here. If you want me to teach you like I did last year, you better follow behind quickly."

And with great satisfaction, Harry strode out of that classroom. After a couple moments of hesitation, Neville and Ron followed after her. Hermione came a couple minutes later, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

_Tom? You up for teaching again?_

Tom beamed at her. "Do you even need to ask?"

(◡‿◡✿)

"Harry you have to go to detention," Hermione said at the Great Hall that night. Harry huffed and puffed, but Hermione wouldn't be persuaded. "You don't want to get expelled, do you?"

Harry rolled her eyes and Fred and George (who were on either side of her) grinned. "Please. Dumbledore would never expel me. I'm pretty sure I could go on a killing rampage and he'd offer me a lemon drop and start to ask me about my feeeeeeelings."

Tom covered his mouth to stifle a laugh.

"Harry, please. Just get it over with," Hermione sighed wearily.

"Fine. For you. I will go to detention for you—but only this once. I don't care if she gives me fifty detentions afterwards," Harry mumbled.

"Harry!" exclaimed Colin, rushing to her. "Another picture for the fanclub?"

"Sure," Harry said, winking as Colin took another picture of her. "Oi, Colin. Are they calling me a liar in your class, too?"

Colin shook his head, then hesitated. "Well… some are, yeah, but as much are taking your side. Some people's parents work in the Ministry, so they kind of have to call you a liar, you know?"

Harry waved her hand dismissively. "Yes, yes. Thank you, dear. Be sure to send some more pictures to Rita for me, won't you?"

Colin blushed pleasantly, pleased that his idol was relying on him. "Y-Yeah. I will."

"Good boy."

Neville frowned thoughtfully as Colin left. "Well, I suppose while you're in detention, I'll have to do Prefect duties myself."

"We have duties?" Harry asked blankly. "I mean... Oh. Sorry."

Ron snorted. Fred and George slung their arms around Harry. "Speaking of duties, Harrykins—"

"—don't forget to tell Padfoot about our new designs!"

"I won't," Harry assured them. "I'll send a letter to him tonight, after detention."

(◡‿◡✿)

At five, Harry stood outside of Umbridge's office and knocked. When Umbridge said, "Come in," in a sugary voice, she entered.

Harry stared in open disgust at the frilly office.

"Good evening, Miss Potter."

Harry resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She dumped her bag next to the only available desk in the office and sat down.

"Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Miss Potter. No, not with your quill. You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."

She handed her a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point.

"I want you to write, 'I must not tell lies'," she said softly.

A surge of annoyance ran through Harry. "How many times?"

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in. Off you go," said Umbridge sweetly. She moved over to her desk, sat down, and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for markings. Harry raised the sharp quill and then realized what she was missing.

"You haven't given me any ink," she said.

"Oh, you won't need ink."

Harry gave a shrug and placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I must not tell lies.

She let out a gasp.

Harry stared in morbid fascination as the words I must not tell lies began to carve their way on her hand. She watched as the blood began trickle and drip down her hand and onto the floor. Tom gave a small gasp, his eyes widening.

"But," Tom said quietly, his eyes still wide, "but… Hogwarts is supposed… it's supposed to be… safe. Safe from… from this."

Unknowingly, he had spoken the very same words that Harry was thinking.

"You…"

Umbridge had not turned around. "I don't hear you writing any more lines, Miss Potter."

"You… you… you know about this?" Harry whispered, a shudder starting to run through her. For an instant she wasn't at Hogwarts anymore.

She was tiny and shaking, her back burning as she writhed and screamed in pain. Relentlessly they continued to dig the hot poker into her skin, beginning to write out F—R—E—A -

Harry blinked and the image was gone, but not the emotions. She could feel the panic beginning to bubble inside her, the urge to bow her head and accept what was coming (because resistance made it last looooonger) overwhelming. Her hand shook and her heart jumped when Umbridge turned around to face her.

"What's wrong? No witty remarks?" Umbridge purred.

Harry didn't respond. Her eyes were fixated on her arm.

The fear was overriding all other senses, the blinding, numbing fear. She covered her mouth and nose with her hands to keep the silence, and she prayedandbeggedandpleaded that he would not notice her because she justcouldn'thandleit, and she counted to ten, waiting for him to leave. One—two—three—four—five—six -

The door opened.

"You…"

This wasn't like an epic duel. This wasn't an adventure, a risk. Harry wasn't the hero she played herself up to be, facing off against the villain.

This was a punishment.

This was d—i—s—c—i—p—l—i—n—e.

Her head was held under water. She wanted to fight it, but she knew if she did, it would only make it worse. So she went limp, feeling the large hand push her further down, and she quivered.

Harry dropped the quill like it was a hot iron, her breathing becoming labored. "No… not this place… you… you aren't supposed to… I'm not…"

"Miss Potter, please pick up the quill and continue to write," Professor Umbridge said sweetly. "You've only completed one line."

She was scared. She was sososo scared.

Harry's hands shook and she finally dragged her gaze to Umbridge, staring at her with wide eyes.

And then she noticed Tom.

And then she remembered.

She was Harry Potter.

She was Harry Potter.

She fought Voldemort and kicked his sorry arse and this thing dared to hurt her? Dared to remind her of that dark time in her past? Dared to make her think less of herself?!

Harry stood up from her chair, anger and disgust swirling in the pit of her stomach.

No.

No.

She would not have it. That girl was dead—that scared, scarred girl was dead. She was gone like the wind and wouldn't be making a return. Not if Harry had anything to say about it, which she did.

The fact that this—this creature thought to bring her back -

Bile rose up in Harry's throat and she glared with absolute loathing at the woman.

"Sit back down," Professor Umbridge said, her toad-like face squashing as her eyes narrowed at Harry.

Harry raised her wand, her eyes dark with hate. "Crucio. Crucio. Crucio! CRUCIO!"

Umbridge screamed as she dropped to the floor and writhed in pain, her face pale and her eyes dark. She screamed and screamed and Harry felt a vindictive glee overtake her at it. Because for an instant it wasn't Umbridge on the ground, wiggling and seizuring because of Harry, it was them.

"Crucio," Harry hissed, her eyes lighting up and her heart pounding. "Crucio!"

Dear, you'll drive her insane.

At Moratorium's tone, Harry was snapped back to reality. She was breathing heavily, panting, and an occasional shudder ran through her. She stared at the moaning woman before her and with cold horror, she realized what she had done.

"I'm s-so sorry," Harry whispered, trembling as she looked frantically around. Her eyes rested on the window, where she could see Moratorium staring back at her, in place of her reflection. "I-I'm s-supposed to be the good girl a-and I blew it. I-I'm sorry, Moratorium."

Moratorium smiled patiently at her. "Don't be, dear. I'll take care of it, don't you worry."

Harry shuddered -

She was crying, curled up in a ball and rocking back and forth. She didn't understand why she wasn't dead yet. They said she was cursed—a freak. Was that the case? Was she not allowed to even rest?

She hated them.

She wanted to hurt them.

But, if she tried, she knew she would fail.

Right now she was supposed to be a good girl, because if she was anything less then she would be in big trouble.

Harry gave another shudder as she was pulled out of the memory.

"Sleep, my dear," Moratorium said gently, soothingly. "I'll take care of everything. Don't concern yourself."

Harry's eyes closed and a heartbeat passed before Moratorium opened his eyes. Moratorium stared at Harry's reflection, noticed how tired and scared she looked. He moved to the window, stretching out a hand to the reflection. "Sleep, dear."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

And Harry gave a small sigh, and she was gone from Moratorium's sight.

Tom swallowed roughly. "Moratorium…?"

"Yes," Moratorium answered, glancing back down at Umbridge. "Hn. This will be rather troublesome, but… no matter…"

Tom watched as Moratorium swished Harry's wand and Umbridge seized up, frozen stiff. Moratorium lazily walked around the classroom, then pointed his wand at a chair.

"You're taking this rather calmly."

The chair Moratorium pointed out flew out the window, completely shattering the glass. "I suppose I am. Harry does not need to deal with my emotions, so it would be better if I repressed them."

"Where is Harry?" Tom asked, floating by Moratorium's side.

"Asleep," Moratorium answered. "You heard our conversation, did you not? I assumed you had ears, but I've been mistaken before."

Tom gave Moratorium an annoyed look. "When will she be coming back?"

Moratorium shrugged and squatted down beside Umbridge. He poked her cheek with his wand. "Wretched hag, wake up."

Umbridge's eyes creaked open and when she caught sight of Moratorium (mistaking him for Harry), she gave a muted shriek. Her mouth wouldn't open, though, so it was moot.

Moratorium smiled coldly at her. "Obliviate. Imperius. Listen and obey. This is your new memory: When Harry realized what you were doing to her, she panicked and shot you with a Stupefy and Confundus. You attempted to calm her down—you shot a Stupefy at her, but when you realized you were no match, you shot a Bombarda. She flew out the window, but not before hitting you with another Stupefy. When you awoke, you decided not to tell anyone of what had transpired, because you knew it would mean bad news for you. You hoped Harry was dead. You didn't see a body, so you assumed some creature took her. However, when Dumbledore asks you to explain what happened, you will tell him this story. You will tell them of your discipline and then you will say the following exactly, 'I should have killed her when I had the chance. The Minister was right in sending those Dementors.'

"You will say no more on the matter and when asked to give a word to the press, you will tell Rita Skeeter what you have told Dumbledore. Nothing more. Nothing less. You will then go to Knockturn Alley and go into the first store on the right. You will say the following: 'I am Umbridge', and you will then shoot yourself with a Stupefy," Moratorium purred.

Umbridge's eyes had glazed over.

He straightened up, then walked around the office, tapping the tip of his wand on the wall as he walked. "Now where is it…"

At his ninth tap, the wall gave away, revealing another secret passage to the Chamber of Secrets. After Harry had opened up all the passages throughout the school, moving about the school without notice became rather easy.

"What are we going to do now?" Tom asked, following Moratorium.

Moratorium glanced back at him for a moment, before turning and ignoring him.

Tom glared at him irritably. "Harry would have answered."

"She's soft on you. I am not."

The two traveled in silence, before Moratorium gave a sigh. "We will be leaving Hogwarts. Harry does not wish to remain here and I do not want to put more strain on her than necessary. I will bring Basileus with us, as even if Harry is not with him directly, being in his presence consoles her. After I inform Basileus of the change of plans, I will change out of Harry's… appearance… and back into my own. We will then leave out of the secret passage, while I contact Marwyn to prepare to Apparate Basileus and me to Sinful Island."

Tom nodded at this, frowning and looking away thoughtfully. Moratorium entered the Chamber and hissed, "Basileus, come here."

There was a soft cry and Basileus slithered out of the bedroom, his yellow eyes gleaming. "Missstresss?"

Moratorium shook his head. "Moratorium. Prepare to leave. Once I am finished changing, we are leaving Hogwarts. Harry has been forced into a slumber due to events and will need time to recover."

Basileus' body tensed. "Who harmed missstresss, massster?"

"We will have our revenge," Moratorium promised. "Patience, pet."

"Dobby!" Moratorium said sharply, changing his voice to mimic Harry's higher pitch. There was a sharp crack and Dobby appeared. Moratorium morphed his expression to give him a warm smile. "Dobby, dear, I'm going to be going away for a bit. No matter what happens, don't tell anyone where I am. I know that, as your mistress, you can find me in a heartbeat, but I don't want to be found. Promise you won't…?"

"Dobby won't," Dobby promised.

"Then you are dismissed, dear," Moratorium said, turning and heading away. "Take a long vacation and do not come to me unless I call for you. Think of that as an order."

"Yes, missus!"

(◡‿◡✿)

"Oh," was all Marwyn said when he saw the very large snake following his master as the two left Hogwarts ground.

Moratorium cocked his head. "Basileus, please be sure to keep your eyes closed."

"I shall, massster."

Marwyn stared for another moment, before he cleared his throat and offered his arm. Efface moved and reached out a hand for Basileus, no hesitation in his movements. His hand rested on the snake and Moratorium grabbed Marwyn's arm.

With a sharp snap, everyone had disapparated and reappeared in Moratorium's large suite.

Moratorium looked over at Basileus, who had kept his eyes closed, before he looked over at Marwyn. "Inform the staff that the roof is completely off limits unless they wish to die. It will become Basileus' new home for the moment. He will enjoy the tropical garden and greenhouse, I believe. I will have a list of his meals sent to the chef—be sure he gets fed on the dot, or he may go looking for his own food."

Which was entirely not the case. Basileus could, quite literally, go centuries without eating and not even be bothered. However, Moratorium knew how much Harry loved to dote on her pet, and he saw no reason not to indulge her whims regarding the creature.

He noted how Marwyn and Efface hadn't questioned how or why Moratorium had a giant Basilisk with him, nor why he was leaving Hogwarts, or how he even got there in the first place. Deciding to award their dutifulness and sate their curiosity, Moratorium said, "Basileus is not mine, but Harry's familiar. As you know, I am close to the girl and she has recently faced a… troubling situation. I assisted her in escaping the castle, but she had to use my means of transportation to escape in the first place—hence why I called for you. Basileus will be staying with us for a while… at least until Harry is ready to return to Hogwarts."

Understanding lit in Marwyn's eyes and he gave a low bow. "Thank you, Lord Moratorium."

Tom looked amused. "Lord Moratorium. Hmph."

_Lord Voldemort. Hmph._

Tom rolled his eyes.

"Have you finished the list of magical artifacts?" Moratorium asked, looking over at Marwyn.

"Not yet," Marwyn confessed. "However, I have purged the Thieves and Assassins Guilds of the… has-been's… followers. I am currently working through the Mercenary Guild before I will move on to our marketing standpoint."

"Shift your priority to purging this island for the moment," Moratorium said. "I don't want to be disturbed while I am here."

"You will be staying here, then, my Lord?"

"Yes. Has Narcissa given us any information?"

"Very little, my Lord," Marwyn said.

Moratorium sighed through his nose. "Alright. How is Efface's training?"

"Progressing nicely," Marwyn replied.

"Good. Efface, there is something I want you to do for me. Within a couple days' time, I would imagine, one Dolores Umbridge will enter Knockturn Alley and enter the first store on the right. She will identify herself, then pass out. Kidnap her, and extract any and all information in regards to the Ministry, blackmail, or anything else you think may be useful by any means necessary. When you are done with her, bring her up to Basileus and leave her. Be sure to break her wand before you go."

Efface bowed lowly.

"That is all. Both of you are dismissed."

"Yes, Lord Moratorium."

(◡‿◡✿)

"What are we going to do about the horcruxes?" Tom asked. Moratorium looked over at Tom, looking up from the papers he was examining.

He sat back at his desk, his fingers drumming on his desk. "Mmm… Well, we can't do anything now. We didn't grab the horcrux at the school and Harry truly doesn't want to return. Marwyn hasn't made the list, yet, so…"

"Well," Tom said, "there is… are… two places we can look."

"Oh?"

"For the ring and the locket," Tom said. "If we're getting the locket, though, better bring someone you hate… or at least someone you intend to kill. It's protected by a torturous curse."

Moratorium gave a small hum. "And the ring?"

"Also protected by a curse. Lethal."

"My, my, Tom. How naughty. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Tom rolled his eyes, unabashed. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Me? Nothing. This is Harry's adventure," Moratorium said. "Besides, I have plans of my own to make. After all, Fudge will be sacked relatively soon, I'd imagine, and I don't have nearly enough blackmail."

"You have blackmail on nearly every single person in the Ministry," Tom said blankly.

"But not everyone, ergo: not nearly enough."

Tom rolled his eyes and Moratorium smirked at him. "How's the egg?"

Tom pointedly held the egg closer to him and away from Moratorium. He warily asked, "Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, don't be so suspicious. I want to know, because Harry wants to know."

"Fine, I think. How long is it supposed to take before it hatches?"

"You have a couple of months left," Moratorium said vaguely, a smug gleam in his eyes. And Tom, knowing Moratorium, realized that he knew something Tom didn't.

The prat.

(◡‿◡✿)

Hermione finally stood up from the table, Neville glancing at her as she did so. She had waited the entire breakfast period, but there was still no sign of Harry. She had been a little worried when she had gone to bed before Harry came in, but it wasn't exactly an uncommon thing. She sometimes went to play with her familiar and lost track of time. However, she was never one to miss breakfast—at least not without a good notice.

Neville frowned. "She wasn't in her bed this morning, was she?"

Hermione shook her head, pursing her lips. "Oh, that stupid girl… She's probably completely lost track of time while she was playing with her pet or something."

"You don't sound all that convinced," Neville observed.

"She doesn't have a reason to be convinced," Luna murmured, and Hermione blinked in surprise. Luna had approached the table with little to no announcement. Neville and Hermione were the only two that stayed for the entire meal; the others had left to prepare for morning classes.

Hermione whirled around and asked, "Do you know something, Luna? Do you know where Harry is?"

Luna blinked. "She's sleeping, of course."

Hermione looked relieved. "Oh, thank goodness. She's alright, then? Good, good… Come on, Neville, we should head to class now."

Neville nodded his head, looking over at Luna and smiling warmly. "See you later, Luna."

Luna returned his smile with one of her own, and the two Gryffindor students left. Hermione and Neville hurried down the hallways, intent on not being late to their first class, but they were stopped by Mrs. Norris.

The cat meowed, her lamplike eyes boring into the duo. Hermione stopped short, exasperated. "I don't know where Harry is, Mrs. Norris."

Mrs. Norris meowed again, sitting down patiently.

Neville looked over at Hermione in confusion. Hermione sighed and explained, "As you know, Harry has an… er… appreciation for animals. Mrs. Norris is no exception—she likes to give the cat all sorts of treats through the day. I suppose Mrs. Norris has gotten used to it and is wanting her morning treat or something."

"Sorry," Neville apologized, feeling only a little silly he was apologizing to what he always thought was the most evil cat in the world, "but Harry isn't here right now. I'm sure she'll find you later."

Mrs. Norris meowed again, her eyes narrowing and her tail waving.

"We don't have time for this," Hermione groaned, brushing past the cat. "Come on, Neville."

"Uh—Right—er—Sorry, Mrs. Norris."

The cat turned her head and watched the two leave, annoyed they were unable to understand what she was trying to say.

Harry wasn't in Hogwarts anymore.

(◡‿◡✿)

"Okay everyone," said Angelina, entering from the Captain's office, already changed. "Let's get to it; Alicia and Fred, if you can bring the ball crate out for us. Oh, and there are a couple of people out there watching, but I want you to ignore them, alright?"

Angelina eyed each person, before she frowned. "Where's Harry?"

Fred and George exchanged glances and shrugged simultaneously.

"She wasn't at breakfast—"

"—and Hermione says she wasn't in any of her classes," George finished.

Ron adjusted the grip on his broom, frowning. "Hermione said she didn't come back from her detention with Umbridge, actually."

There was a moment of silence before Angelina rolled her eyes. "She's probably off on some adventure or something. Maybe she's in the Forbidden Forest with her Basilisk and lost track of time? Who knows. Right now, though, we need to focus on practice."

The twins grinned.

"That does—"

"—sound like our little—"

"—Harrykins," Fred finished.

Ron, however, did not look so reassured. "I dunno. I mean, it's one thing to miss class, but she never missed practice, did she? I mean, I know she was also smitten with Oliver and now he's not here…"

"That's true," Alicia said, shifting her weight. "It's not like Harry to miss practice. She loves Quidditch."

"And that," George sighed and Fred shook his head, "sounds even more like Harry."

"Think we should tell McGonagall?" Katie asked nervously.

Angelina sighed and nodded her head. "Yeah. This isn't sitting right with me. We'll tell Professor McGonagall first and take it from there."

(◡‿◡✿)

Moratorium smiled engagingly at the young vampire prince. The creature looked no older than fifteen, with pale blond hair and ruby red eyes that seemed to bore down into Moratorium. That was not, however, the case, because he was the vampire prince—king, really.

"Lord Moratorium," intoned L, lounging across his throne, "I've heard a lot about you."

"Good things, I hope," Moratorium purred, tipping his hat down. "It's an honor that you would accept my request to meet, Prince L."

L stared at Moratorium, his fingers drumming across his stone arm chair. "I could hardly refuse. After all, you do seem to own half the world these days."

Efface straightened at L's tone, his eyes narrowing as he tried to deduce if L had suddenly become a threat to his master. However, at Moratorium's good-natured laugh, he relaxed minutely. Moratorium said, "An exaggeration, my prince."

L huffed, sitting up straight on his throne. "What is it you want, Moratorium?"

"Your ear, my prince," Moratorium said, looking up at the creature. "I am well aware that Voldemort will attempt to coerce your kind to join his cause. Originally, your people have remained neutral."

L's eyes narrowed. "You wish for us to not remain neutral?"

"Mn. Of sorts," Moratorium said. "I do not want you to fight in any war for me, if that is what you're asking. There is no need for you to. I do, however, want your support on a matter."

"Oh?" L asked, amused. "I will ask again, boy, what do you want?"

"Your support in my becoming the Minister of Magic," Moratorium said.

"And why would you want that?" L asked curiously. "We hold no sway in the Ministry. They think of us as… almost human."

Moratorium sneered. "As if it's a good thing to be human. The Ministry at the moment is a corrupt, disgusting, pathetic thing. When I become Minister, I wish to change it drastically. When I do change it, I will create a council. No more can politicians buy their way to power. No, they must earn their way. No more weak, stupid, lazy idiots with power."

L's eyes gleamed and he leaned forward. "What do you mean, boy?"

Moratorium raised his hands above his hips, his arms outstretched and his palms turned up. "It is this council that shall hold the power to shape the laws and run our international government. And yes, international. I hope to unify the Ministries from all over the world. The council shall be made up of the best of the best."

"Unify all Ministries? What a delicious idea, Moratorium. What makes you think you can pull it off? Furthermore… how would you even decide the best of the best?"

"In the older days the best of the best were decided through tournaments similar to the Triwizard Tournament," Moratorium said smoothly. "I see no reason why we should not bring those glory days back to life."

"Barbaric," L laughed, "yet wonderful. Those were the days… no one could hide behind their money or alliances. They stood on their own two feet, and equality ran fiercely."

"Those days may come to fruit yet again," Moratorium purred. "Think of it, a council ruled by those who are capable of ruling, nevermind their background or class. And one leader to unite them and be their tie-breaker. Does it not please you, my prince?"

"It pleases me," L assured Moratorium, "more than you could understand, child. But you still haven't answered me… can you do this?"

Moratorium smiled. "I wouldn't be here if I couldn't. What do you say, my prince? When the time has come and this current Ministry is gone… will you be part of my council?"

L eyed Moratorium, his lips slowly curling into a smile. "You are an interesting one, Moratorium. While I do not know your true identity, the magic you wear is a powerful one, I do know this: You have the potential. If you do succeed in this endeavour, I will gladly accept my position on the council."

"I was hoping you would say that," Moratorium said, bowing lowly. Unable to hide his triumphant grin, Moratorium then deftly turned around, his black cloak swishing behind him, and strolled out of the whispering throne room.

He was cute, Harry whispered in Moratorium's ear.

He's too old for you, my dear, Moratorium responded. Go back to sleep.

He knew about me.

He knew that this was not my real body.

He's powerful, isn't he?

Voldemort was a fool not to pressure him to join into an alliance. Then again, because he hadn't, it might have saved his life. L is the kind of person even I would hesitate to double cross.

I like him.

I know, dear.

How's Tom?

Moratorium glanced over at the silent boy, who was reading through another set of books Moratorium had set up for him. Moratorium felt amused.

He clings to the egg you gave him. I think he misses you. Well. As much as he misses anyone. Frankly, I think he would prefer your company over mine.

You can be a bit… overbearing at times, precious one.

Moratorium's lips twitched. "Efface, take us back home. When you are done, you are dismissed for the night. There is a reward for your services in your room."

Efface bowed lowly before he took Moratorium's arm. "Thank you, Master."

Master, huh? Moratorium mused as the two Apparated. Heh.

(◡‿◡✿)

It had been a week since Harry's disappearance and by this time, the whole school knew something was wrong. Whispers and rumors flew around, but Hermione paid them all no heed.

All she knew was that her best friend was missing, and Luna was being stubbornly vague about the whole thing.

"She's asleep," Luna said when Hermione asked about Harry again.

"But where is she?" Hermione demanded. "Oh, oh, oh bollocks! Luna, you have to give us something a bit more to go on!"

Luna only shrugged and took a seat beside Neville at the table. Ginny looked over at her friend and said, "Is she alright, at least?"

Luna did not answer.

"Blast it all," Ron exclaimed, "has anyone been able to get a hold of Sirius?"

"I sent a letter to him last night," Hermione sighed, "but I don't know if he got it."

"Are you certain you can't tell us anymore?" Neville asked Luna.

"She is asleep," Luna repeated, "and with a vampire."

"What," Hermione shrieked, standing up. "That's it! I have to talk to Umbridge."

Hermione hurried out of the Great Hall. For the first time since coming to Hogwarts, she essentially abandoned her homework, but at that moment she didn't particularly care. She ran down the hallways, sprinting past groups.

You idiot, Harry, Hermione thought, a rush of anger churning in her stomach. She was worried sick about her friend and didn't appreciate the sense of helplessness that accompanied it. She stopped short of the DADA room and knocked on the door, breathing heavily.

"Come in."

Hermione opened the door, still panting and asked, "What happened?"

Umbridge looked up from her desk at the front of the room, a stack of papers in front of her. "Excuse me?"

"At detention with Harry," Hermione elaborated.

"Wai—Wait up," Ron gasped, finally entering the room. Ginny and Neville were with him.

Umbridge blinked owlishly at Hermione. "Miss Potter never came to detention."

"Not that I'd blame her," Ron muttered under his breath.

Hermione's brow furrowed. "What? That can't be right."

"Are you calling me a liar, Miss Granger?" Umbridge asked smoothly.

Ginny placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Come on, Hermione. It does sound like Harry to skive off from detention."

"No, it doesn't," Hermione snapped stubbornly. "She told me she would, so she would. Harry may be a lot of things, but she wouldn't lie like that!"

Ginny tugged on Hermione, starting to pull her out of the classroom. "Then maybe something happened to her?"

"Think about who you're talking about," Hermione exclaimed. "There's no way that someone could just kidnap Harry. At least, not so smoothly that there wouldn't be a disturbance and… and…!"

Hermione rushed out of the classroom, skidding down the hallway and locking eyes with one of the many portraits. "You! Excuse me, I'm sorry to bother you, but did Harry come down here? About a week ago, after supper?"

The portrait of the portly man gave a yawn. "Harry? Oh, that energetic girl, right? Yes. She went to her detention. I remember, because I heard a crash not long afterwards—woke me up, it did!"

"A crash?" Neville asked. "What do you mean?"

The portrait on the right added, "Oh, yes, I remember that. It sounded like one of the windows were breaking."

"A window breaking?" Ginny echoed. "You sure?"

"Of course they are," Hermione interrupted, already turning on her heel and striding away. "They wouldn't have said anything if they weren't and they have no reason to lie. Which means…"

She broke out into a run.

"H-Hey," Neville exclaimed, "wait for us!"

"Where are you going?" Ron asked.

"To see Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said firmly, "maybe he can make her tell the truth!"

(◡‿◡✿)

Moratorium chuckled. "Oh my, it looks like things are finally starting to come into fruit."

Tom looked up from his book, quirking a single eyebrow. Moratorium turned the paper around so he could see.

MINISTRY RESPONSIBLE FOR THE GOLDEN GIRL'S DISAPPEARANCE?!

It would seem that young, dashing, Harriet Potter has disappeared from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry roughly a week ago. Since it has been known to happen for our adventurous darling to skive off from class to play with her familiar, her friends weren't initially concerned. It was when she did not show up for Quidditch practice that they began to worry, and after waiting a bit longer to see if she would turn up, young Hermione Granger put her foot down. She, along with Ginny and Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom confronted their DADA teacher, Professor Dolores Umbridge.

As some of you may know, Dolores Umbridge is known as Fudge's right hand man (woman), and for good reason! Umbridge had scheduled a detention for sweet Harry a week ago, and was the last to be seen with her. When Hermione and co. asked about her friend, Umbridge denied Harry ever showing up! Suspicious, Hermione turned to the wise Headmaster and asked him to assist them in their inquiry. When Dumbledore questioned Umbridge, Umbridge spilled the beans!

It turns out, Dolores Umbridge had subjected our sweet Harriet Potter to some form of medieval torture. And she continued to say that the darling deserved her punishment! She even went so far as to say, "I should have killed her when I had the chance. The Minister was right in sending those Dementors."

Minister Fudge is unavailable for questions, but the proof is undeniable. Readers, you may recall my article in regards to Harry's unfair trial against the Dementors and Fudge's reaction to it all—and now Fudge's right hand man is admitting to wanting to kill an innocent child!

Will you let this stand, readers?

Gilderoy Lockhart has a few words to say in regards to his missing student…

Moratorium did not need to read the rest of the article, and neither did Tom.

"I take it you will be moving soon, then?" Tom asked, glancing over at Moratorium.

Moratorium folded up the paper and sat it back down on his desk, standing up. "Of course. Marwyn?"

The door creaked open to the front room of the suit. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Make sure you've had breakfast," Moratorium instructed. "We leave for the Daily Prophet in ten minutes."

"Yes, my Lord."

(◡‿◡✿)

"M-My Lord Moratorium," exclaimed the portly man, his hands fumbling together. Deiner Wheiner was the proud owner of the Daily Prophet. He was a short man with a grandfatherly face, but gleaming eyes and a silver tongue. "It's an honor to meet you in person. Miss Rita is here, as you requested, sir."

Moratorium tipped his hat down when Rita looked over at him, and he smiled charmingly at her. She blushed and smiled back. "Hello, Lord Moratorium. Odd title. Lord. Not a lot of people prefer to go by it these days."

"I like the past," Moratorium said simply.

"Mm-hmm."

"Miss Skeeter," Deiner said pointedly, "Lord Moratorium is our number one sponsor. He's the reason we can afford all your luxuries."

"Yes, yes…"

"I was hoping you would be my private reporter," Moratorium said. "You've been doing such a good job for Miss Potter."

Rita smiled thinly. "And what would you have me report?"

"Well," Moratorium said, "I'm running for the position of Minister of Magic."

Her eyes gleamed. "Are you now? Fudge is still the Minister, you know."

"Not for long."

"Probably," Rita agreed.

Moratorium gestured to Marwyn, who stood behind him. "This is my most trusted aide. Should you need me, you only need to contact Marwyn to set up an appointment. I would like a press conference set up within two days from now to address my candidacy. Prepare your questions, Madam."

"Of course," Rita murmured, smirking.

(◡‿◡✿)

Moratorium stared across the sea of faces. He stood at a podium, unblinking despite the many flashes of cameras. He waited for several minutes before the cameras eventually stopped flashing and the whispers finally ceased. Moratorium leaned on his podium on the stage, his eyes sweeping over each individual.

"Hello," Moratorium greeted charmingly, his eyes sparkling. "I would like to thank you all for coming here and indulging me in this conference. As I am certain many of you have heard, Harry Potter has been missing for quite some time. It's a fact that Fudge and the girl had been quarrelling for months now, and that Umbridge's statement is… most certainly a troubling one. Whether or not Fudge did kidnap… or worse… to the Girl-Who-Lived is moot. There is no solid evidence, but the word of a wicked woman and frankly, it doesn't matter. What does matter, however… is the fact that people believe her.

"What does it say about our Minister if we do not even trust him? If we are incapable of seeing him in a strong, positive light? That we would rather believe these vile rumors (however true they are) simply because they make the most sense? That doesn't bode well with me. We are going through troubling times now. With the rise of Voldemort, we need a strong leader. We need a strong government to guide us… to protect us. Fudge is incapable of providing that now, I see that clearly. So today I have called you all here to state a simple thing: I, Moratorium, am now running for Minister of Magic."

"Moratorium, aren't you aware that Fudge is still Minister?" one reporter shouted out immediately.

"I doubt that will last long, though," Moratorium put in mildly.

"Do you have a plan for the government? For He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Of course I do. When I am elected Minister, I will be delighted to share my plans," Moratorium chuckled.

Rita smirked. "You seem confident that you'll become Minister."

"Confidence is needed in my line of work," Moratorium said smoothly.

And on the questions went, and on Moratorium replied. Never really giving any more information than he already had.

He had no need to.

He would become Minister.

Legally… or not.

(◡‿◡✿)

Time passed. Many more conferences were held and each one was as informative as the first one. Moratorium did not directly say what his plans were, or even gave much information about himself. He instead had a tendency of skilfully redirecting the questions to pointing out the flaws of the current government (not in Fudge). The result was an interesting one, as it seemed none had bothered (or noticed—Moratorium wouldn't be surprised if they were that dense) to call him out on it.

Fudge was, unsurprisingly, removed from office. However, in doing so, it spurned many other candidates to present themselves.

Not that any of them had a chance. Moratorium had plenty of blackmail on the lot of them to make them bow out.

Everstill, the actual elections were at the end of the month— a scarce two weeks away.

Moratorium ran his fingers along the tuft of hair, caressing it softly. Marwyn continued to bow lowly before his lord, before Moratorium finally plucked the box out of Marwyn's hands and murmured, "You are dismissed, Marwyn. The rest of the night is yours."

"Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord," Marwyn replied lowly, slowly straightening up before leaving. Once the doors were shut tight, Harry spoke up.

I don't understand, Harry said, her voice soft in Moratorium's head. What's so great about a tuft of hair?

Moratorium's eyes drifted over to Tom, who was currently flipping through another book and pointedly ignoring Moratorium. Moratorium set the box on his desk and turned to the large window-wall that overlooked Sinful Island.

It's not any bunch of hair, pet. It's from a Kelpie.

A what?

L sent this to us—to me, Moratorium mused. Which can only mean one thing…

I can't follow your thought process. What's going on? So what if it's a piece of Kelpie?

Moratorium actually chuckled at Harry, he could picture her huffing in annoyance at him. Tom, knowing that Moratorium wasn't one to chuckle at nothing, realized he was in a conversation with Harry. He raised an eyebrow and looked at them.

Deciding that it would be easier to explain it to both of them than have them pester him for questions later on, Moratorium said, "L sent a piece of Kelpie to me today."

"And?" Tom drawled.

"As you both are aware, I intend to abolish this horrible Ministry when I become Minister. I will unite all nations under one, single unity, a unity that will decided upon the best of the best. This does not, however, strictly mean combat. The council will be derived of certain individuals. An advisor. A judge. A speaker to the public. A general. A warden. A diplomat. And so on and so forth. These cannot be decided through brute strength—for instance, the advisor should be the brightest of all, the wisest of all, the most shrewd."

Tom set his book down and crossed his legs in place, turning his full attention to Moratorium. "Correct."

"The leader—the one who holds the most sway—will be the best of the best. The one who has earned the right of leadership. Something unanimously decided by the advisor, the general, and the diplomat—as those three will be the key roles in the council. For the first years, I will be the leader until I wish to step down. It will be the same for the rest of the roles of the councilmen. No one can be removed unless they are either unfit to hold their role, or they wish to be removed. This ensures the best of the best are ruling those hapless sheep that dare call themselves wizards and witches.

"In order to create a unity of this new government across the magical world, I will need at least one councilmen from each corner of the world. L, of course, has already agreed to be the advisor. A very fitting position for the vampire prince, if I do say so myself."

What exactly would the advisor do? Harry asked.

Moratorium cocked his head at the question. "The Advisor has some jurisdiction over all the areas: legal, financial, diplomacy, military and leadership. They are meant to act as a second hand to each of the roles, and offer the wisest path to take. They cannot enforce these paths, but their word will hold a heavy toll in the making. If, for example, the Advisor disagrees with the Speaker (the person who addresses the public) on an action, and the Speaker does not listen, the Leader will be the tie breaker. Unlike the Advisor, the Leader can and will enforce the ruling."

It doesn't sound like they have a lot of power at all, Harry thought. They can only advise.

Moratorium snorted. "Haven't you heard the saying the Shadow King? The Advisor is, in essence, the second Leader. If the Leader becomes incapable of fulfilling their role, the Advisor will take their place."

So… kind of like the vice-president or director (in a business)...?

"In a way," Moratorium allowed. "The Advisor is intended to be the impartial observer. They can see flaws where others cannot due to their unbiased nature. L is the perfect Advisor because this is a practice he has mastered. He is fully capable, and will do so, to put aside all biased views to see the bigger picture."

Okay. I get it, I think.

"How do you know he is capable of doing that?" Tom asked incredulously. "Vampires aren't treated any better than werewolves. How do you know he isn't biased against wizards in general?"

Moratorium shrugged. "It doesn't matter if he is or isn't. What matters is: he is able to put aside those biases. I know this… because he has no other choice. Not for a long, long while, at least."

Tom blinked in surprise at that. "What? Did you get blackmail on him?"

Moratorium smiled. "No, no, nothing of the sort. When we were in the vampire court—how many vampires did you see?"

Tom hesitated, trying to recall what he had seen. "Ten? Eleven?"

"Seven," Moratorium replied softly, his voice velvety. "Long, long ago—back in Gryffindor and Slytherin's age, wizards and witches were strong and capable beings. So strong, in fact, they held their own against every other creature. Back then, there were thousands of vampires and thousands of werewolves and thousands of elves. All of them in an alliance with one creature or another and the wizarding world annihilated them. So much so that they had no choice but to submit to them. Do you honestly think that such a powerful creature as L would humor wizards? Would even keep them around, if he did not have to?"

Tom did not respond.

"Of course not," Moratorium scoffed. "But he has no choice. When the vampires were on the brink of extinction, Godric Gryffindor and Helga Hufflepuff extended an offer of treaty. In essence it was: You leave us alone; we'll leave you alone. There were a few other things in there, of course. The treaty was to favor the wizards more than the vampires, but they had little choice but to accept. When the treaty was made, four vampires were all that remained of their entire race."

Tom's eyes widened and Harry gasped.

Moratorium's smile took a nastier edge to it. "Oh, yes. It was a brutal war. Imagine— imagine—how strong the wizards and witches were back then. And look at them now. So damn incesteous their bloodline has run cold. Look at you, Tommy. Descendant of Salazar Slytherin with a mother so squib, she couldn't cast a proper spell. Then add a little new blood and violà. Powerhouse. Of course, not nearly as much as your ancestor, Salazar, but still…"

Tom's brow furrowed. "They must have been quite a force to be reckoned with."

"And look at them now," Moratorium sighed. "It sickens me. Back to the point, however, four vampires remained. And in all the centuries that have passed, do you know how many there are today?"

Tom shook his head.

"Seventeen. From thousands to four, and now still only seventeen remain. And the majority of them are considered infants in vampiric years. L knows this. The wizarding world may be pathetic compared to what it was in his days, but sadly, quantity would win against quality. There is not a doubt in my mind that L could destroy half of Great Britain if he willed it without even lifting a finger, but he wouldn't, because it would mean the end to his people. So," Moratorium said pointedly, "that is how I know he can remain objective. He hates wizards—despises them. Yet, he is fully capable of putting aside his personal grievances to look at the bigger picture. And he will continue to do so for many centuries to come."

Harry and Tom slowly digested this, accepting this new information.

Then… the Kelpie fur meant… what?

"Vampires weren't the only ones wronged by wizards. Werewolves. Fae. Centaurs. Goblins. The list goes on. However, not every group can be a part of the council. I want the best of the best, and not every group will have those with the qualifications. One of the groups, however, that I was looking at were the Fae and Merfolk. Closely tied, those two, and since their own near brink of extinction, very close. So close, in fact, they now go under one name—The Falk."

"So the Kelpie fur… has something to do with… the Falk?" Tom asked slowly.

"It is the Falk. When L sent me this, it was his way of informing me that the Falk are willing to listen. The Falk is largely run by Kelpie, and their leader, I believe, is new. A young stallion Kelpie by the name of Dagonet. I wouldn't be surprised if this actually was his fur. I had been trying to get in contact with him for some time, but the Falk are more elusive than the Shishi."

"Shishi?" Tom couldn't help but ask.

Moratorium snorted. "The Chinese refer to them as Guardian Lions or Imperial Lions. Living creatures of stone who are naturalists in the art of defense and war. The only reason wizards won against them was pure, dumb luck, and the fact the Shishi were not overly motivated to win. They only wish to protect their own and those they deem close. I've been trying to coerce them to join the circle for months, but they're adamantly stubborn about not giving a definite answer. They probably want to see where the cards lay out and decide if it would be in their interest or not. Tt."

Silence fell through the room, while Moratorium fumed.

"So the Falk are interested in the council?" Tom inquired carefully.

"Indeed," Moratorium said, glad to be changing the subject of his less-than-successful endeavour. "I would imagine that they would like to meet with me very soon. Tomorrow morning, I will have Marwyn spread the word that I eagerly await their audience. Oh… and before I forget. Harry, dear, you will need to be fast asleep during the meeting. Kelpie males are… are rather like Veela. Except far… far more vicious."

Okay, Harry responded. I'm already getting tired. I'm going to sleep now. Wish Tom well for me, please?

Maybe.

(◡‿◡✿)

Moratorium smiled vapidly at the young Kelpie. He was handsome, certainly. With long, curly black hair pulled into a low side-tail and dark, deep blue eyes. He wore a loose, dark blue blouse with tight black pants and he walked with confidence. Dagonet, leader of the Falk, did not meet Moratorium alone at the beach. He had guards with him, each as beautiful and as dangerous as their leader.

Efface was the only one to accompany Moratorium, then. Marwyn was preoccupied with running some things for Moratorium's election (mainly forcing the other candidates to drop out).

"You are Moratorium," Dagonet stated, walking gracefully past him and taking a seat at the gazebo on the beach.

Moratorium offered the Kelpie a small dip of his head. "I must thank you for agreeing to meet with me, King Dagonet. Although, I feel I must inform you that you do not need to hold your human form on my behalf."

Dagonet smiled with coy amusement at him. "It's not a bother. I came here to express an interest in your… Council."

"You know of my plans?" Moratorium inquired.

"L explained a fair bit about it," Dagonet said vaguely, "and I have to say… your idea seems most… appealing. Are you true to your word, however?"

"I am. I am willing to take whatever Oath you would have me under to prove it. I sincerely wish to rectify this disgusting society and the way I have described to do so is the way I believe is best."

Dagonet nodded at this, still smiling with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "Very well. Let's discuss terms of agreement and then we can talk about Oaths."

(◡‿◡✿)

The time of the election came and went, and Moratorium won with little to no problems. All of the other candidates had decided to drop out and openly supported Moratorium. Harry slept throughout it all, and Tom kept buried in books Moratorium provided him, only coming out to tend for his egg.

When it came time for Moratorium to actually attend his first meeting as Minister… well. It proved most interesting.

Moratorium strolled into the courtroom with savvy confidence. Efface and Moratorium trailed behind him, one of them the perfect picture of smug ease; the other of brooding silence. Moratorium sat down at the highest seat and looked down at everyone. His tools flanked his sides. The single entryway to the large room was then blocked by a handful of Moratorium's assassins.

"Good evening, everyone," Moratorium purred. "I apologize for my tardiness. I was… preoccupied. I hope if you don't mind I keep this brief."

"By all means, do," Agnus Fariweather, a pureblood elderly wizard, exclaimed. "My grandchildren are waiting on me, and they have rather short attention spans."

"Undoubtedly because of all the sweets you give them," elicited a reply from Javon Rurals.

This caused a small, knowing, laugh to resound around the courtroom as everyone laughed at Agnus' grandchildrens' expense. Moratorium was the only one who remained stoic, continuing to smile a rather dark smile.

When the laughter died down, Moratorium cleared his throat. "I am here to propose and pass a law. Tonight. No one will be able to leave until this is settled."

Magnus Nox rolled his eyes. "Don't be absurd. It takes months to pass a law. There are proceedings—"

"There are not," Moratorium interrupted smoothly, his voice deadly soft. "The only reason it takes too long is because you all spend your time squabbling over it and the other Ministers were too politically unstable to pick a definite side. I, however, am very secure."

Moratorium leaned forward on his podium, eyeing the idiots before him. "For the longest of times, the Ministry has been international. One Minister for the entire world. Granted, that one Minister did not hold as much influence in some parts the world as others. The Ministry broke away into groups, into three distinct groups. This group is, naturally, the largest, given how this was the original group and is where the Minister resides. The second largest group is the group to our East, followed by the group in the West. And while it has not been stressed before—no Minister has dared to leave the group they originated from—it is still there. The laws created here, among us, are absolute for all groups. So here, I propose this new law: All politician groups shall be disbanded. The Ministry of Magic will henceforth be disbanded and a new group shall be established. The only thing left untouched in this law—for the moment—are the Law and Enforcement Department, and Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects for obvious reasons. Only one person shall remain in absolute power—The Minister. Otherwise known as me."

"Y-You can't be serious. There's no way we will accept that," Agnus blustered.

"Look under your seats," Moratorium purred. Each member of the government peered under their seats and found an envelope. Tentatively, they opened it and several gasped.

"This is blackmail!" Javon exclaimed. "You… You can't do that."

Moratorium laughed quietly. "Oh. But, I can. Now… let's get to voting, shall we?"

(◡‿◡✿)

Hermione choked on her tea, as she stared at the newspaper, aghast. " who does this Moratorium think he is?!"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. He gave a big raise to dad's Department, and the Law Enforcement one, and he offered jobs to all the other people he fired to go work for some of his other businesses, so he's not all bad."

"He is essentially destroying the government!" Hermione shrilled.

"But it wasn't a very good government to begin with," Neville pointed out, recalling all the arguments that Moratorium had made in his lectures for candidacy. When one stopped to think about it… they really didn't have all that good of a government, did they? "And if you read on, he explains how he's implementing a new system."

"I don't like it," Draco muttered.

"You're only saying that because your father was fired," Ron retorted. "He was offered another job, wasn't he?"

Draco shrugged. "Yeah, but that's not the point. The wizarding world has only ever had one government. It's… it seems like it's going to be awfully messy."

"Doubtful," Hermione muttered disdainfully. "Didn't any of you read up on Moratorium? He owns practically the entire business world already. He's a tycoon and has created an unbeatable Monopoly. He already owned the government beforehand, I bet, and is now being public about it. I don't trust him and I don't like this one bit."

"Well, you can't really do anything about it, can you?" Ron retorted. "What job was your dad offered, anyway, Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged again. "The departments won't actually be disbanded 'til New Year, and even then… he's actually keeping more than two. He's keeping the Department of Mysteries, but he's moving it."

"Moving it?"

"Yeah. Dunno where. Father said he was offered a job in one of the new departments… or in the new department, I guess. Something about being a treasurer…? Not sure. He said Moratorium told him that the Malfoy family was one of the craftiest families he knew when it came to money."

Hermione peered at her friend. "You sound awfully proud of that."

Draco gave her a grin. "It's true, though. Father said we're better than Goblins when it comes to finance. It's genetic."

Declining to point out that there was no way that could be genetic, Hermione instead changed the subject, "Any news on Harry?"

A somber silence fell around the group of friends.

"Sirius hasn't had any luck. He can't find Dobby, either," Neville said quietly.

Hermione's eyes trailed down, staring at her food.

She suddenly lost her appetite.

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry Potter woke with a startled gasp. Her eyes flew open, her hand clutched at her chest and she panted. She was covered in a cold sweat, only wearing Moratorium's shirt and pants (he had passed out on the bed, too tired from negotiating with the Falk to bother to change). The ring that changed her gender was somehow discarded, so the clothes were too big for her smaller form.

"Nightmare, Moratorium?" Tom asked mockingly.

"Not… not Moratorium," Harry panted, her eyes wide.

Immediately, Tom shifted his posture. His condescending tone was replaced with concern, "What happened? Why are you awake?"

Harry shook her head. "Voldemort. I think. I need… I need…"

Harry scrambled from Moratorium's bed, stumbling a bit on her feet. Her voice was raw and raspy. "Moratorium is too tired to deal with this… he's not used to being in control for so long… he must be so tired… Efface! Marwyn!"

There was a snap and both appeared in Moratorium's room.

Neither of them responded to the fact that the missing girl was in their master's room, nor to the fact that their master was nowhere to be seen. Harry wobbled on her feet and Tom reached for her, as if to steady her, but remembered that he wasn't tangible and stopped. Marwyn, instead, reached for her and grasped her arm. "What's wrong?"

"Send help to the Department of Mysteries - now," Harry demanded.

"Very well," Efface whispered. Marwyn hesitated a moment, but nodded. Efface left the room, while Marwyn stayed.

"Did something happen, My Lady?"

Harry looked up at Moratorium's tool wearily. "I hope not. I hope no one is there, but…"

A tired sigh escaped her and Marwyn assisted her back to Moratorium's bed.

"Will Moratorium be available in the morning?" Marwyn asked.

"No. He is tired," Harry murmured, looking up at Marwyn. "How long have you known about us?"

Marwyn only smiled. "I've been with you for many years now. The little things that kept on building up… It was L's words that had me thinking, and now this…"

"Wait… he… knows?" Tom demanded, his eyes narrowing as he eyed Marwyn suspiciously.

Harry merely stared at Marwyn. Marwyn's smile grew. "My Lady, it does not matter if you are not always My Lord. I serve Moratorium—whatever face he… or she… may wear."

Harry cracked a small smile, reaching up and patting Marwyn's cheek gently, in an almost affectionate manner. "I am pleased that is the case, Marwyn."

Efface returned, his black cloak swishing around him as he moved. "There was a man there, a Weasley. He was injured, but the authorities found him in time, My Lady."

Harry breathed a small sigh of relief and curled up in the bed. She brought her knees up to her chin and rubbed her forehead.

"What happened?" Tom inquired, sitting down on the bed with her. "Why did you wake up, Harry?"

"Cancel all of Moratorium's appointments for the next week," Harry finally said. "He won't be available. It's… it's time I returned to the world. Marwyn, we will leave tomorrow morning after breakfast. For now… both of you… leave me, please."

Moratorium's servants bowed lowly and left, and Harry and Tom were left in the darkness. They did not speak for quite some time. They did not need to. Tom recognized that Harry was still processing and needed space, and Harry was grateful for Tom's acceptance at that.

"I dreamed of Voldemort, I think," Harry whispered. "Like… like the other dreams from last year. Only… I dunno. Moratorium is exhausted… he's never been fully out this long before… it's amazing he lasted as long as he did. But, now…. now he needs sleep."

"What are you going to do now?" Tom asked.

Harry sighed. "I… I guess I'll go back to Hogwarts. I… can't hide forever, and I know he'll need me soon enough." Harry's lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. "Besides, Voldewhore is becoming active again. It's about time I started getting ready for him."

Tom's eyes danced with amusement and he reached towards her. He hesitated a split-second, but then rested his hand on her head. "Regardless, I'm glad you're back."

Harry blushed. It was embarrassing to think that she had hidden for so long. Even though Moratorium told her many times it was perfectly understandable and she had every right to react the way she did, it was still… degrading.

Tom looked uncomfortable and retracted his hand quickly. He shifted his posture to sit criss-cross across from Harry. "So you'll return to Hogwarts tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "Wonder how much homework I have?"

Tom cracked a smile. "Mountains."

Harry's eyes lit up with a teasing glint. "You'll be able to help me though, won't you?"

"I am the greatest teacher imaginable."

"I don't know. I really liked having that ex-convict. That little extra danger made it stupendous."

"Then having a Dark Lord will be perfect."

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry wagged her fluffy fox tail, Basileus slithering right behind her. Tom was floating above her, cradling the egg in his arms. Marwyn had dropped Harry and her darling Basilisk off in the Forbidden Forest, as Harry asked. There was a secret entrance to the Chambers from the forest, and Harry intended to enter the school through that way.

Her soft white feet padded across the dirt, cracking twigs along the way.

Basileus gave a long, slow hiss when the entrance came in sight. Harry walked over to the large, black, polished, rock and hissed out, "Open."

It was odd speaking the Snake Language while in her Animagus form, but not unpleasant.

"Misstress?" Basileus inquired. Harry cocked her head and flicked her ears to show she was listening, so he continued. "Are you cccertain you are well enough to attend ssschool again?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Harry responded simply. "It's almost Christmas, anyway. It's the week before Christmas break, so I will not have to deal with too much."

Basileus gave a low hiss that was tinted with worry. Harry paused and turned around, locking eyes with her precious pet. She brushed the tip of her nose against his and gave him a foxy grin. "I'll be fine. You worry almost as much as Moratorium."

Basileus did not verbally respond, instead he butted his face against Harry's small body. Harry gave an odd hiccup-chuckle-laugh (came out more like yips with in her Animagus form), but Basileus seemed to understand her amusement.

Only when everyone was inside the Chamber, and the door was shut, did Harry transform back into her human form. Tom had promptly turned away, shutting his eyes while Harry hurried into the bedroom to find clothes.

"Dobby!" Harry exclaimed, as she finished changing.

In a flash, Dobby appeared before her. "Missus Potter! Dobby is most pleased to see you! Mister Black kept trying to call on Dobby, but Dobby was a good elf and did not come."

"Thank you, dear," Harry cooed, cupping Dobby's cheek and kissing the top of his forehead affectionately. "Go ahead and inform Sirius and the others that I am now in the Chambers and I will be attending Hogwarts, again. Oh, and please tell Dumbledore I'll be up to see him in his office after lunch."

"Right away, Missus Potter! Can Dobby fetch Missus Potter anything?"

"Some egg and cheese burritos would be nice," Harry said thoughtfully.

With another snap, Dobby was gone and Tom drifted into the room.

"Now what?" Tom asked.

"Now? I'm going to relax for a bit and try not to have another panic attack," Harry said cheerfully. "Although… I'd like to talk to you about the horcruxes, now that we have a chance."

Tom straightened at that and he set the egg down on the desk in the study. He sat down in the chair at the desk, and Harry sat down in a plush chair across from him, crossing her legs and smirking at him.

"I know where two are, and a third one in the school," Tom said firmly. "We can get the two over winter break, but it would be best if you had two people you hate with you, as each are cursed."

Harry nodded her head, accepting this knowledge. "Very well. You said there was one in the school?"

Tom's lips twitched into a smile. "Yes. I hid it in the Room of Requirement. No curses on it, but being near it will… well, it'll cause some… discomfort."

Harry shrugged. "Nothing I'm unfamiliar with. Any idea where the others would be?"

Tom hesitated. "I planned on having a familiar as a horcrux… and the other piece would be placed with someone I trusted. However, given how I ran things… I'm not sure that would be the case now."

"Hopefully Narcissa will be able to provide some insight with her information," Harry sighed. "Voldewhore hasn't been acting too much lately, more jailbreaks and attempting secret alliances. From what I understand, his last attempt was with the Ogres, but I'm not overly concerned about them."

Tom smirked. "That's right, you easily took care of one in your First Year, didn't you?"

Harry's eyes danced with teasing fondness. "A troll, actuallym, 7. I'm surprised you remembered I told you that."

"It was interesting. I always remember interesting things."

"Then you must never forget about me," Harry teased.

Tom only smiled in response.

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry stealthily maneuvered through the pipes that connected to the Chamber until she reached Dumbledore's office. She deftly exited the pipes and looked over at the Gargoyle that sat before Dumbledore's office.

"I bet he's expecting me," Harry told it.

There was a heartbeat of silence before the stairway presented itself and Harry climbed the stairs.

She entered the office, peeking in through the door with wide eyes. She found Dumbledore heading towards her rather swiftly for an older man. "Harry!"

Harry closed the door behind her, giving Dumbledore a sheepish expression. "Hi."

Dumbledore stopped before her, his eyes filled with concern. "Where were you?"

"With a friend," Harry answered, shrugging. "I, um… I wanted to get away. Sorry."

"Do you have any idea how worried everyone was about you? You couldn't have written a letter?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, starting to feel a keen sense of guilt at her disappearance. "I lost control of myself, Professor Dumbledore. When Umbridge… I was… I was reminded of my childhood and reverted back to a very… very pathetic state. I was not fit for company, nor did I want it. I needed to heal on my own. I am sorry that I was gone without a word and I did not intend to cause trouble."

Dumbledore gave a long sigh. "I understand why you left, Harry, and it is for that reason I am not mad at you. I am glad that you are alright, but you must promise me you won't do that again. Especially with the threat of Voldemort on the rise…"

Harry almost rolled her eyes when he mentioned Voldemort, but resisted the urge. "I know and I'm sorry. I—"

The door to Dumbledore's office flew open and a man with black hair, still pulling on a robe, bursted into the office. Sirius immediately found his goddaughter, bounded across the room and pulled her into a suffocating embrace. "HARRY!"

"Can't… breathe…"

"You're grounded," Sirius said, still squeezing the life out of her. He released her long enough for her to gasp for breath. His eyes were shining and he was smiling brightly. "No. Seriously. You're grounded. For life."

"I'm sorry for the trouble," Harry wheezed. "I didn't mean to worry you, but could you please let go of me?"

"No. Where were you?"

"I went on an adventure," Harry exclaimed, exasperated. She pulled herself out of Sirius's arms and hugged herself. "I'm sorry, okay? I just…"

She struggled with trying to justify herself to Sirius, because he was giving her such a curious look. She didn't want to try to explain why she reacted the way she did—she wasn't ready to share her past with Sirius, yet; but she also acknowledged that a normal person wouldn't have run away like she had. Dumbledore seemed to sense this struggle because he said, "Harry is a bright, resourceful young witch, Sirius. More importantly, though, she is home again. What she went through, and what she had already gone through, is something no normal person could handle, so it stands to reason that she would handle it in a not normal way. She needed this reprieve and we must trust her to tell us what is needed."

Sirius seemed ready to object, but there was something in Dumbledore's eyes that quieted the member of the Order. Instead, he shook his head, pulled her closer and refused to let go. "You're still grounded, but welcome back home, Pronglet."

"Don't call me that," Harry whined.

(◡‿◡✿)

It was decided that Harry would return home with Sirius instead of remaining in Hogwarts. She would return to her classes after the break. Not that she was complaining—she wasn't looking forward to the tongue-lashing Hermione was bound to give her.

(⊙‿⊙✿)

"How is Arthur?" Harry inquired softly. She was leaning on Sirius on the couch. Remus was dealing out the wizard cards for another game of Witchy-War. Titan was in her arms, fully enjoying the company of his mistress again.

"Fine. Injured, of course, but fine. Thankfully help arrived when it did," Remus told Harry. Harry felt pleased at this information. She was thankful her friends wouldn't need to experience a life without a father, and Arthur was a good man.

"Good, good."

The two adults, after whisking Harry away from Hogwarts, did not press for where she was. They did not demand answers, nor did they treat her as though she had run away. They welcomed her return with warmth, and for that, Harry was forever grateful.

She was not sure what she could say. She knew the truth would not do, at least not the entire truth, but again…

It seemed they trusted Dumbledore's judgment nearly unconditionally. It was a good thing that Harry told Dumbledore the truth about her past—put him in a situation where he had no choice but to blindly trust her. She doubted she could pull that card forever, but for now it would suffice.

then, there was a crack of fire, signifying that their floo had been used.

And in stormed Hermione Granger, out of breath, covered in snow, and looking positively livid. "Harriet Lily-James-whatever-the-hell-your-name-is Potter, you are in so much trouble."

"Whatever the hell her name is?" Sirius echoed, confused.

"I never told her," Harry explained, looking sheepish under Hermione's dark glare. " that it was the name of one of my parents. So she switches back and forth between their names. Uh… Hi, 'Mione. Um… Sorry?"

Hermione growled, "Sirius, Remus, would you be so kind as to give us some privacy?"

"This ought to be good," Tom commented, while Sirius and Remus obliged Hermione. Harry had no doubt Sirius would be eavesdropping on their conversation regardless.

_This is going to be an uncomfortable conversation for me, isn't it?_

Tom only chuckled.

"Where the hell have you been," Hermione demanded. "What? No call? No letter? Nothing?! You couldn't have given us a message saying you were okay, at the very least? What is wrong with you?! Do you have any idea how worried I was? What the bloody hell happened? And I swear, if you don't give me an answer I like, I will – "

Harry stood up from the couch, holding her hands up in a peaceful gesture. She was overwhelmed by the amount of questions Hermione bombarded her (and the tearful look she was giving her. Harry wasn't sure if she was furious at Harry, or about to start crying) with. Giving a nervous smile, she said, "I wasn't able to, 'Mione. I guess you could say, I, uh… wasn't really myself for the most part."

Tom snorted.

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

Harry fidgeted under her gaze. She felt pinned; trapped. She had an excellent lie—a wonderful cover story—that Moratorium had come up with, but she found herself unable to utter a word of it. Here was this girl that undoubtedly cared for Harry. The first real friend Harry could have.

If things had gone well, it would have been Hermione that Harry would have told first about her past.

Harry cared for Hermione like no other. She was, in a way, a sister to her. She felt… ashamed… that she had upset her so, and she found that when she was caught under her gaze, the lie wouldn't come. Before she knew it, she had said, "I was with Moratorium."

Hermione balked. "What."

Harry froze. Tom's eyes widened.

Moratorium chuckled from inside Harry.

Nervously, Harry squirmed. "… I was with Moratorium, the Minister of Magic. He's… he's an old friend of mine. When, uh… When Umbridge did that… I … I freaked out. I was… hurt. I thought I couldn't trust anyone at Hogwarts anymore, because… because she was a teacher there, 'Mione. A teacher did that to me. I was… confused. I went down to the Chambers, and I realized I needed to get away from all that. I …

"You know, back in third year, you told me you noticed I kept you at arm's distance, yeah? Well there's a reason I do that. I'm better at not doing it anymore, but, uh, when Umbridge … disciplined me in that manner, I … couldn't deal with it. I needed space. I contacted Moratorium, and he got me and Basileus outta there. He… he provided an isolated environment, and I … stayed there. I didn't even realize how much time had passed, until he told me he became the Minister. I was… I wasn't myself, 'Mione. I wasn't thinking straight, nor was I sane. I … needed to get away."

Hermione appeared taken aback by her friend's words. As Harry continued to talk, she seemed to lose her steam, and by the end, she looked drained. Hermione gave a weary sigh. "… I have my suspicions about your past, Harry, but I know better than to pry. Thinking back on it… with my theories… it makes sense that you left, Harry."

Harry nodded quietly, her eyes trailing down. Hermione moved towards her, and wrapped her arms around her. "I don't blame you, Harry, but I worry. You're such an adrenaline-junkie, and this whole Voldemort thing doesn't help. When you left, I thought… I thought…"

Hermione stopped, sounding choked up and Harry returned her hug, squeezing her tightly. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. I promise I won't ever leave you like that again."

"Good," Hermione managed, pulling back. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, and her voice was cracking. "Because I swear I'll kick your arse if you do. I swear it."

Harry gave a wobbly smile, not entirely sure why her eyes were burning. "I quite like my arse being non-kicked, so I better do as you say, then, huh?"

"Damn straight," Hermione laughed weakly. "Thanks for sending Dobby to tell me you were back, at least."

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "Not looking forward to doing this conversation a bunch of times over, though. I'd rather not let a lot of people know about mine and Moratorium's connection."

"What do you mean?"

"He's not exactly a clean person," Harry laughed. "And I'm the golden girl, remember?"

"Are you two…?" Hermione inquired hesitantly. "You know…? Together?"

Tom gave a strangled cough at that, trying very hard not to laugh. Harry stared blankly at her friend before she realized what she was asking. Her eyes widened and she gave Hermione a horrified look. "My, God, no! He's…! No. No. No. It's nothing like that. He … he saved me from my past, when I was younger, okay? I suppose you could call him a childhood friend. Besides, I am fairly certain he's asexual."

Hermione shrugged. "I had to ask. You're a pretty girl, Harry, and he's not that much older than you."

"Trust me," Harry said fervently. "He wants nothing to do with me in that regard."

"You sure?" called a voice.

Harry and Hermione turned around to give Sirius a dry look, as he peered into the living room from the kitchen. He grinned. "What? I had to ask."

"It's not nice to eavesdrop," Harry told him.

"You told her what you did, but you didn't tell me?" Sirius whined.

"You didn't ask," Harry pointed out. Sirius pouted. "But, to answer your question, yes. I'm sure. And before you ask, no, you cannot meet him. He's a very busy man, Padfoot. I wouldn't have contacted him like that if it weren't an emergency."

Titan yipped, and Harry immediately perked up, cooing at the puppy.

"And if I asked about your past?"

Harry winced at his question, noting his more somber tone and darker gaze. "… I would answer, but I would prefer it if you didn't. I'm not… I don't think I'm ready to talk about it."

Sirius sighed. "I trust you, Vix, I really do. You're a bright witch. You can take care of yourself, but that doesn't make me worry less. You are my goddaughter, after all. If anything happened to you, I… well, I don't know what I'd do. I'd rather not consider it, to be honest. answer me this, then: Does Dumbledore know your past, and is that why he asked we didn't press for questions?"

"Yes, and yes," Harry admitted.

"Last question, then," Sirius continued, "do I need to kill anyone?"

"Not yet," Harry answered, amused. Sirius nodded his head, content. "And thank you, all of you—yes, Moony, I know you're standing back there, listening. I know this can't be easy. I know you want to know, and the fact that you trust me enough to not press the issue means more than I can ever say. Thank you."

Sirius looked away in embarrassment, and Hermione lowered her gaze, her cheeks tinted red at Harry's sincere tone and warm gaze. It was unusual to see the normally mischievous and teasing girl be so warm and somber.

The fire crackled in the floo, and in stormed Neville. "Harriet James-Lily Potter…!"

"Damn," Harry whined. "Not this again…"

"That's what you get for having concerned friends and abandoning them," Tom said, sounding positively amused.

_You're enjoying this far too much, you sadistic eye-candy._

"Well, glad you still think I'm eye-candy," he teased.

_It's about all you're good for._

"Ouch."

(◡‿◡✿)

It was a long, emotionally-tiring winter break, to say the least. Each of her friends had visited her, and each time Harry had to explain herself. Although, no one else aside from the twins and Neville learned the true story behind Harry's departure. Hermione didn't press Harry to tell the truth, thankfully, as she seemed to understand (and more importantly, accept) that being Harry's friend didn't give you her unconditional trust.

Well, okay, Luna knew the truth, but that was because she was Luna. She was the only one of Harry's friends that wasn't concerned for her, citing that she knew Moratorium took excellent care of her.

Over the break, though, her friends came to terms with her story, and by the end of it, it was like she had never left.

Nothing else of note happened, except for December thirty-first.

Harry had awoken a little earlier than she normally would.

Why?

Because Tom had awoken her.

His eyes were lit up with curiosity, and mild excitement, and he said, "The egg is hatching."

Harry beamed and shot up from her bed. Titan, who had been sleeping on her chest, gave a startled bark. However, sensing the excited atmosphere, he quickly started wagging his tail and circling the egg.

Tom had set the egg at her feet, sitting across from her. The dark egg was shaking, and there were already little cracks in it. Harry waved her hand, lighting up the room and saying, "Dobby, the egg is hatching—bring the supplies!"

There was a faint sound of snapping fingers, and then Dobby appeared. He was holding a large blanket, and carrying an even larger basket. Inside the basket were more blankets, magically enchanted to stay warm, and three specially-ordered milk-filled baby bottles.

"Thank you, dear," Harry told him, smiling warmly. "You may go, now."

"Right away, Missus Potter," Dobby chirped, before dismissing himself.

Tom shifted anxiously, eyeing the egg with no small amount of hidden curiosity.

The top of the egg fell apart, and the first head poked through. The creature's first head was akin to a snake's head, but was flatter and had more ridges. The head also had two small bumps on either side. Harry knew as the baby grew, those bumps would grow as well, becoming twisted, poison-tipped, sharp horns.

Then a second head poked through, chirping, and a third. Titan barked, wiggling and squirming with uncontained happiness and excitement.

"A hydra," Tom breathed. "You got me a legendary, nearly-extinct, one of the most feared creatures in this realm of existence, honest-to-God, hydra."

"Happy birthday, Tom," Harry said shyly. Tom's eyes widened, a surprisingly warm light dancing inside them, and he smiled at her. Not a smirk, or a coy look, but a soft, sincere, smile.

A funny kind of feeling settled in the pit of Harry's stomach—but it was a good kind of feeling. A happy kind.

"Thank you," he said.

Together, the two slowly assisted the baby hydra out of the egg. Harry reached across her nightstand and pulled out her enchanted-pen, before quickly drawing the appropriate, permanent, runes across the hydra's back. The baby chirped at her, all eyes watching her curiously. However, because the egg had been in constant contact with her, the baby recognized her as a non-threat.

When the rune was finished, Tom reached over and picked up the hydra.

It had a large body, no arms, but two legs and three tails. After a closer inspection, Harry quickly determined the baby was a boy. He was a bright, bright red, and Harry knew as he got older, it would fade and darken down to a dark red—borderline black. He had ridges along his spine, trailing from the top of each head, and connecting into one spine along his back. Those ridges would grow into spikes as he grew older—also poison-tipped.

He had no pupils—never would. Instead, his eyes glowed with an ethereal red, as did his mouth when he opened it. He would be quite a sight to see when he matured. Nine heads, each as long as Basileus, with glowing red eyes, to stand out against a dark, spiky body. He had no teeth, yet, but when he matured, he would have more teeth than a shark. He would be dark as night and taller than Basileus when upright.

He would be a truly fearsome sight.

The hydra, instantly recognizing the one who cared for him as an egg, cooed at Tom. All three of the heads eagerly reached up to him. Tom gently brushed his finger along each head, still smiling. "He's going to be very fierce."

"Yes," Harry agreed, reaching a hand over to the baby. One of the heads turned back to her, and with a gentle finger she rubbed underneath his chin. Titan, deciding that the baby was okay, plodded right up to him and nuzzled him with both heads.

The baby chirped and squirmed. All heads turned towards Titan. He wobbled towards Titan, stumbling out of Tom's lap. Titan jumped up and down, his hind legs not leaving the bed. He growled playfully, and the hydra growled— as playfully—in return.

The two engaged in a tussle, and Harry again found herself thankful that Titan was a hellhound. Not only was he not natural prey for the hydra, but he was also immune to their poison due to his tainted blood and high metabolism. Tom shifted and moved to sit beside Harry, giving the two babies room to play around.

"What are you going to name him?" Harry asked.

Tom's smile stretched into a smirk. "Porteurdemort."

Harry laughed. "Bringer of Death?"

Tom shrugged, chuckling. "It seemed fitting, given what he'll grow into."

"I told Dobby," Harry commented, watching Porteurdemort chase Titan around the bed—and failing, due to his short legs, in comparison to Titan's lankier ones, "that when the egg hatched, to create a direct link from the lake to the chambers. Also, to fill up one of the rooms with a pool big enough to fit a full-grown hydra."

"They do prefer being underwater, don't they?" Tom mused.

"Mm-hmm. They have both lungs and gills."

Tom scooped Porteurdemort up, and Harry picked Titan up, cradling him. Titan licked her face happily, both his heads nuzzling against her. He had, of course, gotten bigger since Harry's absence, but was still small enough to be picked up and carried about.

"You will be a strong one," Tom hissed softly. All three of Porteurdemort's heads swiveled up to Tom's face and they cooed. Hydra's didn't really have tongues, but Harry figured if they did, Porteurdemort would probably be licking Tom, as Titan was to Harry.

Harry giggled at the display of Tom Riddle cradling a baby hydra. He shot her an amused look. "I take it that basket is for him, too?"

"Yes," Harry answered, setting Titan back down on the bed. He yawned, curled up, and promptly fell back to sleep. "He'll probably prefer to sleep in the water in the chambers, but when we go back to Hogwarts, he'll have to stay in the room with me. So, I figured, having his own bed would be nice. I mean, he's welcome to sleep with me, like Titan, does, but he is your hydra…"

Tom raised an eyebrow at her and then deposited Porteurdemort in her arms. The hydra turned his heads towards Harry and started cooing at her. Immediately, Harry felt herself melt at the absolute adorableness of the creature and she started cooing right back at him.

"Uh-uh," Tom remarked. "He may recognize he belongs to me, but he still recognizes you, too."

"Okay, maybe," Harry admitted.

Tom smirked. "I'm not complaining. I'm not the mothering sort. I'll need someone to take care of that part for me."

"My, my, Tom, are you asking me to mother your hydra?" Harry teased.

He shrugged easily. "I suppose I am. That makes me the father, doesn't it?"

Harry laughed, her cheeks warming at the thought. "I guess it does. Odd. I could have sworn you told me earlier you didn't want kids."

"I don't; this is completely different," Tom objected.

"Uh-uh."

"It is," Tom insisted. He gave Harry an annoyed look, but the effect was lost, when he kept staring at Porteurdemort. He lost his glare, and his brow furrowed. "Damn it. This is all your fault, you stupid girl."

"I knew being around me would eventually rub off on you," Harry lied. "I knew you'd eventually come to love animals as much as I do."

"Not animals," Tom clarified. "Snakes. Snakes that turn into massive weapons of destruction and mayhem, to be precise. And I don't love them. I … appreciate them."

"Uh-huh. You are so going to love and baby this hydra."

"Shut up. I am not."

Harry smirked.

Tom tried his hardest to muster up some anger at her, but found that it was impossible. He wasn't actually angry, or upset at her in the first place. He was more amused than anything, but he'd be damned if he let her catch on to that. Instead, he settled for giving her an unimpressed look, and said, "So how often does he need to eat?"

Harry gestured towards the bottled milk—a bottle for each head. "For the first three years, about three times a day. This milk will suffice for the first five years of his life. At the end of his fifth year, he'll start growing his fourth and fifth head, and we can switch him over to some actual meat."

Tom cocked his head. "When will he actually mature?"

"Eh. Depends on how much magic he's exposed to. Half a century to a full century— like a Basilisk. He'll stay in his prime for about five to ten centuries."

Tom's eyes widened. "You… are you planning that far ahead into the future?"

Harry smirked. "Of course."

"So you are interested in immortality," Tom accused. "You liar."

"No," Harry disagreed. "Not immortality. That would take the excitement out of life, but I don't plan to live a normal life-span, anyway. Besides, that would mean killing off my darling familiar before he even reaches old age in basilisk years! What kind of familiar would I be if I did that?"

"Then how do you plan on…?"

Harry smiled. "You'll see."

Tom had a funny feeling that he would… and that he would like it.

(◡‿◡✿)

"Thank God I never killed Lockhart off," Harry told Tom as the two stepped into the chambers. Titan was trailing behind her at a happy pace. Harry was carrying Porteurdemort, as the hydra had managed to fall asleep in her arms. Tom chose to float backwards ahead of her, frowning thoughtfully.

"I suppose it is. He's handling 'the return of the golden girl' quite well," Tom agreed. "Saves you the trouble of having to deal with the press."

"And having to repeat my story who knows how many times to the other students. They can read about it in the damn paper," Harry snorted. Basileus gave a soft hiss, coming out of his den when he sensed his familiar's approach.

"Missstresss, welcome back. Who isss thisss?" Basileus inquired. He had his eyes wide open—as Tom was unaffected by his gaze, due to his current predicament, and Titan was still blind. However, upon seeing the new baby to join them, he immediately shut them.

Harry smiled. "Don't worry, dear one. This baby is a pureblood hydra. They do not see like we do, and as such, your gaze will not harm him. At least until he matures and can switch gazes."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Basileus leaned forward, opening his yellow eyes again and sniffing the baby. Harry held him out to him. "I mean that snakes don't see like we do. At least not true magical snakes, such as basilisks, hydras, and hydrophiinae (sea serpents). For the majority of their life, they see magic. That's how you can imprint with serpents while they're an egg—they see, sense, and live off magic. They don't see eyes, hair, or fingers like we do. They see our magic, outlined in our figures. That's why Basileus' gaze will not petrify him with a glance. I suppose if he worked for it, he could petrify him, but he won't accidentally petrify him by a glance."

Tom blinked at that, his tone thoughtful. "I honestly had no idea. That's amazing. So when he matures, you said he can 'switch gazes'. Does that mean he can see like we can?"

"To a certain extent, yes," Harry answered. "I can't say I'm surprised you didn't know. It's not a well-known fact, and I went out of my way to research it. You wouldn't honestly think I'd get a baby that couldn't be left alone with my darling familiar without fear of accidental death, would you?"

He only smirked in reply. Harry scoffed. Basileus, on the other hand, continued to sniff the baby. "Will he be ssstaying here, missstresss?"

"He is Tom's pet, but I will assist in raising him. For the most part, he will be allowed to stay with us, but we will need to leave him here on occasion. Treat him well, won't you?"

Basileus nuzzled her and Porteurdemort gently. "Of courssse, missstresss. I will teach this young hatchling what it meansss to be a true legendary sssnake."

Harry beamed at her familiar. "You're so amazing! I'm so lucky to have you. I must leave for now, but I will be sleeping with you tonight. And probably every night for this week. Or every night for, like, ever."

"You love him far too much," Tom told Harry.

"Don't be absurd," Harry dismissed. "If you asked me, I don't love him enough."

"Maybe I should reconsider you assisting me in raising Porteurdemort," Tom muttered.

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Please, we both know you would be lost without me."

"Or at least blissfully ignorant of the insanity that is you."

She grinned. "Being sane is overrated."

(◡‿◡✿)

The returning week of Hogwarts was one of the most annoying weeks Harry had ever had the displeasure of experiencing. Not only would her fan club refuse to leave her alone, far too many people refused to take the hint that Harry Potter did not want to repeat her story seven million times. It got to the point where she started firing off stinging hexes to make them go away.

Worst of all…

"You replaced me," Harry accused.

"It was temporary," Angelina—the new Quidditch Captain—insisted. "He knew it, and the second we heard you were back, we kicked him off. It sucks, yeah, but we needed a Seeker."

Harry huffed, holding Porteurdemort closer to her. Taking the hint that his pseudo-mother was upset, the hydra hissed at her. Angelina eyed the creature warily. "… He wasn't anywhere near as good as you. Now we've probably lost our shot at winning the cup."

Harry raised her eyebrow archly, handing Porteurdemort back over to Tom, so she could pick Titan up. The poor dear was clamoring for her attention. "Don't be ridiculous, Angelina. You have me. Of course we'll win the cup. I don't lose. Ever."

Angelina snickered. "Well, if you're so sure… glad to have you back, Harry."

"It's good to be back," Harry answered honestly. "I do apologize for my abrupt vacation, but…"

Angelina patted Harry on the shoulder good-naturedly. "Hey, I would have wanted a break, too, if Umbridge tried to kill me. No one can blame you for being too pissed at the school to deal with that bunch of bollocks. By the way, Ron's our new Keeper. He had a bit of a rough start, but he's doing fine now."

"That's good."

Other than that, the week was a giant headache. By the third week back, things had finally settled into a more normal pattern. Harry resumed her Seeker and Prefect duties, and for the most part… she enjoyed a fairly normal life.

(◡‿◡✿)

"Right," Hagrid declared, marching his class further into the woods. His baby dragon—Rutherford, an Antipodean Opaleye, to be exact—sat happily on his shoulders. Seeing how he was still a hatchling, he had more feathers than scales, but they gleamed a pretty rainbow when the light hit them right, despite being mostly blue. "This way, this way…"

Tom carried Porteurdemort—although to all eyes, it looked like the baby hydra was floating in midair—, much to the baby's amusement. He kept cooing and purring at Tom, to the utter smug glee of Harry. And Harry, sadly, could not carry Titan anymore, as the pup had grown too big. Instead, he trotted in between her and Hermione happily.

"Why is Hagrid taking us into the Forbidden Forest again?" Hermione wondered tiredly.

"Because that's where all the fun animals are?" Harry hazarded a guess.

"I have a horrible feeling about this," Neville bemoaned.

"You're telling me?" Draco muttered. "The man has a dragon sitting on his shoulders. I still can't believe it hatched over winter, along with that."

"You better not be pointing at my new baby," Harry said, narrowing her eyes threateningly. "Because that is not an appropriate way to address him. His name is Porteurdemort, and he is adorable, damn it."

Draco shot her an unamused look. "He's a hydra. They're as, if not more so, dangerous as a nundu!"

"Your point is…?"

"I should have known that logic would be lost on you," Draco sighed. Hermione patted his shoulder consolingly.

Ron scratched his cheek. "Well, I think I'll have to side with Harry on this one. Portuer… er… mort… has been pretty good. Besides, it's better than her riding her familiar to classes. At least he's small."

"And it's kind of cute when he plays with Titan," Neville contributed.

Draco gave the two boys annoyed looks. "You're saying that because she knows where you sleep, and you're afraid of her."

Neither of them bothered to deny such.

"I actually know where you sleep, too," Harry added, enjoying how Draco went a bit pale at that. "But, don't worry. I won't hurt you for speaking your mind… So long as you don't badmouth my familiars or babies. Then I'm fairly certain Vixen will have to visit you late at night…"

"I can't tell if that's blackmail or threatening," Draco muttered.

"A little bit of both," Harry said happily.

"Righ', 'ere we are," Hagrid declared. Rutherford chirped, blue fire coming out of his toothless mouth, and he flapped his wings. Hagrid smiled brightly at everyone. "Firs' of all: Welcome back, 'Arry."

"Thank you, dear," Harry responded happily. Titan rubbed his heads against her legs affectionately, and Harry all too happily scratched behind his ears in return. "I understand that I should be welcoming you back, as well."

Hagrid scratched his cheek sheepishly. "I got back a couple weeks 'fore break. As I told the class when I firs' got back: I've been advised by Dumbledore himself to showcase animals in yer O.W.L.s. So this week, we'll be covering these little guys. Don' worry, though. I'll bring in some real interesting creatures in between all the O.W.L.s."

"That's wonderful!" Harry chirped excitedly while the rest of the class exchanged looks that ranged from worried, to mildly interested.

"Who can tell me about these little fellows?" Hagrid asked, gesturing to a pile of twigs. Hermione's hand shot up in the air.

"Aww, they're so harmless," Harry whined, easily recognizing the creatures.

"Thank Merlin's beard," Neville sighed.

"Right, 'Ermione?" Hagrid asked, seemingly pleased at her eagerness.

"Bowtruckles," said Hermione. "They're tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees."

Hagrid beamed and Rutherford purred, joyous that Hagrid was obviously happy. Hagrid clapped his hands together once. "Righ' you are, 'Ermione. Anybody know what they eat?"

"Wood lice," Neville answered, offering a tentative smile. Hagrid nodded his head, and Rutherford chirped. The baby dragon began to crawl up Hagrid to properly perch directly on top of his head. He stretched out his winged-arms and made more chirping sounds. Harry found it absolutely adorable, and so did a few of the other girls in her class from what she could judge by the apparent awws.

Hagrid's smile kept growing. "Very good. So if yeh ever need some wood or leaves from a tree they nested in, yeh best give them some wood lice as a trade. As yeh can see, I brought lots of wood lice in the bag over there. I want everyone to partner up, take some lice, and one bowtruckle and study 'em. Yeh'll, uh, be asked to sketch 'em, most likely, on the O.W.L.s or, at the very least, label 'em, so go ahead and get practice in sketching them. I want a sketch of each of them at the end of class."

Hermione and Harry immediately partnered up—Ron partnered with Neville—with Harry heading off to fetch the lice and the bowtruckle. Titan trotted after her, and after Harry picked up the creature—it was tiny and pixy-like made up of wood with knobbly arms and legs, and big brown eyes that stared up at her inquisitively—she had to hold it out to Titan to sniff at, else the poor hellhound would have been a little cross.

The bowtruckle took to being sniffed out like a champ after Harry gave it some wood lice to chew on. Once Titan was satisfied, Harry walked back over to Hermione and the two girls set the creature on a nearby trunk. Harry plopped down the rest of the wood lice for it to chew on and then the two girls set about sketching them quickly.

Tom peered over Harry's shoulder. "You forgot one of the fingers."

Harry paused in her work, frowning. "I did?"

"They have three fingers, not two," Tom retorted, gesturing to the creature.

"Did what?" Hermione asked, lifting her head up long enough from drawing to raise an eyebrow at her friend.

Harry gave her a fleeting smile. " talking to myself."

Hermione returned her smile with a waning one of her own. "That should surprise me, and yet…"

Harry bumped her shoulder against Hermione's. "Thanks."

"You also forgot the other eye."

_I didn't forget it, I haven't drawn it in, yet._

"Uh-huh," Tom answered disbelievingly.

Harry resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him, settling instead to correcting her mistakes. _Back seat student._

"What?"

_ I keep forgetting you aren't from this century._

"I am, too," Tom corrected. "I'm not from this generation."

Harry shrugged, pausing in her work long enough to reach up and tickle one of Porteurdemort's heads. Of course after she tickled one of them, she had to tickle the rest, 'else they'd get jealous and start fighting.

It was a rather relaxing and simple class period, which was very nice. A little normalcy would do Harry an awful lot of good about now, considering what she had gone through.

Once the lesson was over, and the students were dismissed, Hagrid beckoned Harry over. Harry bounced over to her favorite professor, Titan happily at her heels, and Tom floating behind her, still cradling the baby. "Yes, dear?"

"'Arry, I know yeh got yer sources, an' all," Hagrid began, twiddling his fingers nervously. Rutherford cooed and nuzzled his head affectionately against Hagrid's cheek, which seemed to soothe the half giant.

"Yes, Hagrid?"

"Well, I was wonderin' if yeh could help me… procure… some more interestin' creatures for this class," Hagrid said hopefully.

Harry's eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands together once. "Oh, of course, Hagrid, my dear! tell me what you want and I shall take care of it. Don't you worry—I'll make sure you'll be legal to care for them, as well, and provide the supplies."

"Yeh don't need to go that far for me…"

Harry shook her head firmly, a stubborn light in her eyes. "I do, Hagrid. You are one of my few friends, and I intend to take care of all my friends within the best of my ability. I know you will do your best to properly care for these animals, and I also know that it is important for students to understand some of the more… unique creatures in our world. Ignorance can often lead to serious injury, if not death, when it comes to creatures."

Hagrid smiled. "Thanks, 'Arry."

"Of course!" Harry chirped. " tell me what you want."

"Well, to start with I'd like a chimaera…"

(◡‿◡✿)

DADA's latest teacher was a bumbling oaf. The man reminded Harry of Quirrel from her first year, minus the turban and obvious pedophilic fetishes. Needless to say the class was absurdly easy.

The evening of Harry's latest DADA class, Harry found herself in a rather familiar position—a position she rather frequently was in last year.

The Marauders, now with Vixen back at their side, continued to strike throughout the school year. They mostly tested out new ideas for the twins' joke shop. It wasn't uncommon anymore, to see a student colored a bright neon pink, or for students to avoid a hallway that had been thoroughly jinxed and charmed.

Fred slung an arm around Harry's shoulders and guided her through the Chambers. Fred and George were one of the very few students that Harry taught how to open the Chambers anywhere in the school. The tunnels and large pipelines that ran throughout the school—and were invisible on the Marauder's Map—were invaluable to the pranksters. Moreover, they both completely understood that Basileus occasionally roamed the passages and were unbothered by his presence.

Whenever Basileus happened upon one of the twins roaming around, he always kept his eyes closed and ignored them for the most part. The twins responded in the same manner—although, there were a few occasions they brought in some treats for him (much to Harry's delight).

They didn't visit the actual chambers often, as all of the passages that lead directly to the chambers required an extra password to enter (and while the twins knew the password, they respected Harry's—and Basileus'—privacy enough not to abuse it), and they thought it would be rude to blatantly waltz through Harry's private chambers without her.

George was walking backwards, looking at the two and speaking. The twins knew the passages as well as Harry, and the trio could easily walk through them blindly. "So we're still testing out a few kinks in our products, but we should be good to go in a few weeks."

"Marvelous," Harry praised. "Do you need any more money for ingredients?"

The twins shook their heads.

"Your investment was wise," Fred said sagely. "We're good to go for a couple more years, I reckon, not counting all the money we're making now with the orders."

"Well, if you need anything, don't hesitate to let me know," Harry said seriously.

"We know," the twins chorused.

"Has Padfoot been running the store well?"

"Very," George said seriously, grinning. "Brilliant idea to open it up so early—already so busy, and since we're still at school, we can get some first-hand idea on what the students need now to have a… successful… school year."

Harry beamed. "Indeed! Has Molly found out you two own a prank store, yet?"

"Nope," they chorused, looking very pleased with themselves.

"Bloody brilliant. Now what did you want me here for?"

"So about O.W.L.s this year…"

(◡‿◡✿)

The following day, after Harry's Potions class, Harry was asked to stay behind by a very annoyed Severus Snape.

After her friends had left the classroom (but they still waited outside for her in the hallway with Titan—as Snape was adamant about not letting him or Porteurdemort inside his class, though sometimes Porteurdemort would ignore this fact, and break the door down to sit in Harry's lap for the rest of the period) Harry eyed Snape curiously.

"The headmaster wants me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."

"I already know Occlumency, though," Harry said, her brow furrowed.

Snape's lips curled in distaste. "So I have been informed. He wishes for you to perfect your Occlumency, however, as he feels it will be prudent, and very important to your survival. He says that you would understand, more than anything, why it is best if Voldemort did not successfully invade your mind."

A shudder ran through Harry at the very thought.

"You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing. You understand?"

"Yes," she answered. "Who'll be teaching me?"

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I am," he said.

Harry balked, her eyes wide. She was pretty damn sure her Occlumency was bloody good, but on the off chance that Snape did successfully invade her mind… It was… well, it was something she would really rather he didn't. She especially did not want him learning of Moratorium.

You cannot refuse this extra training, though, Moratorium thought softly.

What are we going to do?

Tonight I will set up mental parameters around vital information. We will bring forth some trivial memories and use them as walls. If worse comes to worst, I, will deal with Snape.

Are you certain? Maybe we should hire someone…

Dumbledore knows of your hesitancy and distaste for others finding out the truth. He knows this, and will be doing everything in his power not to push your boundaries. The fact that he still suggested Snape be the one to teach you means that this might be of the utmost importance to master.

I think I would rather have Dumbledore teach me, though, than Snape. At least Dumbledore knows, but Snape…

Dumbledore may not be trained in the art of Legilimency, though, Moratorium responded smoothly. Moreover, I would much rather some hapless teacher find out about me, so I can safely take care of him without drawing too much attention. Could you imagine Dumbledore finding out?

Harry resisted the urge to cringe at that.

I'm not confident I could get rid of him without some nasty consequences.

Understood.

Besides… I think our shields are more than enough. We will… set up some safeguards to protect the more important memories, though.

Okay.

"Okay," Harry whispered, closing her eyes in resignation.

"I will expect you six o'clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking extra potion lessons to prepare for Advanced Potions next year."

Harry swallowed. "Professor Snape?"

Snape's dark eyes narrowed. "Yes?"

Words failed the girl, though, at that moment. She wanted to say, very dearly, If you see them, please don't change. Please don't look at me differently. Please don't judge me.

She really wanted to.

But, she couldn't.

So instead, she shook her head, turned on her heel, and fled.

(◡‿◡✿)

Six o'clock in the evening the very next Monday, Harry stood hesitantly outside the office. It felt a little odd that Tom wasn't with her, but it was decided that he would have more fun in the Chambers than watching her and Snape stare at each other all evening. At least in the Chambers he could read a book without drawing some odd looks.

Her knuckles rapped against the door, and she waited a heartbeat before she entered.

It was a shadowy room lined with shelves bearing hundreds of glass jars in which floated slimy bits of animals and plants, suspended in variously colored potions. In a corner stood the cupboard full of recognizable ingredients. Harry's attention, however, was drawn toward the desk where a shallow stone basin engraved with runes and symbols lay in a pool of candlelight. She wondered what a Pensieve was doing in Snape's office.

Snape didn't seem like the sort to reminisce about the past, like Dumbledore.

"Shut the door behind you, Potter," was Snape's cold greeting.

Harry did as she was told with a dreadful feeling that she was trapping herself as she did so. When she turned back to face the room, Snape had moved into the light and was pointing silently at the chair opposite his desk. Harry obediently sat down, and so did Snape. His cold black eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Harry, dislike etched in every line of his face.

"Well, Potter, you know why you are here. The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope you are as good as you say."

Harry nodded, uncertain of what else to say.

"This may not be an ordinary class, Potter," said Snape, his eyes narrowed malevolently, "but I am still your teacher and you will therefore call me 'sir' or 'Professor' at all times."

"Yes, Professor."

"I understand you have an… aptitude for disarming your opponent. Do not attempt such here. The Dark Lord is capable of performing Legilimency without a wand, and through mere eye contact. You will need to know how to defend yourself to the utmost. Now, then, we shall get started. Prepare yourself…"

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry Potter panted heavily. Sweat dotted her brow, and she had a killer migraine, but there was a smile on her face.

He hadn't broken through her defenses, yet.

Snape cleared his throat and finally lowered his wand. "That is all for tonight, Potter. Continue like this, and we can both be done with these lessons sooner, rather than later."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, slowly standing up. She offered a polite dip of her head towards him, and then she hurried out of the room, feeling much lighter than she did when she first entered it.

(◡‿◡✿)

It was early the next morning—or late at night, depending on how you looked at it—that Harry received an urgent message from Marwyn for Moratorium. The owl had hooted endlessly outside Harry's window until she finally answered it. Within minutes she was changed and floo'ing from the Chambers directly to Moratorium's apartment in London.

"What's wrong?" Moratorium demanded.

"There's been a break out in Azkaban," Marwyn answered quickly. "It's only a matter of time before the press finds out."

"Very well. Schedule a press conference this morning, and tell me everything."

"The Dementors turned," Marwyn admitted, and his normally tan skin seemed rather pale at this. "They devoured the guards we had stationed there to check on them, and then released the prisoners. We believe it was the work of You—er—Voldewhore."

Moratorium sighed harshly through his nose, irritation flaring inside of him. "Bastard. Doesn't know when to quit. Nevertheless… We will not hide this from the public. They need to know, and they need to know we're doing what we can. Bring me Moody, and bring me Bones. They'll also need a pick me up…"

Moratorium trailed off, his brow furrowed. "As much as I am loathe to admit it, the mass majority of our public would much rather remain ignorant of Voldewhore and focus on more pleasant things. If I cannot provide them as such, they'll panic. I need… Ah! Marwyn, I had canceled the finals for the Magical Races during December, had I not?"

"Yes, Lord Moratorium," Marwyn responded dutifully. "I believe you mentioned something along the lines of because Harriet was unable to perform."

"Well, I am announcing them back on. Schedule them for a month from now, and go ahead and schedule another race within two weeks—anyone, not wizards and witches—are invited to this and the top five racers will move onto the finals, as well."

"Where would you like it scheduled?"

"Some place warm, and near an ocean," Moratorium responded. "Get in contact with our public affairs department and pull something together. There'll be a very nice bonus if you and the department pull it off in time."

Marwyn smiled brightly. "Always happy to serve, my lord."

"I'm sure. Now… Bones, and Moody!"

"Yes, Lord Moratorium."

(◡‿◡✿)

"I apologize for the late hour," Moratorium said, standing in front of the two aurors. "I take it you have both been filled in?"

"Yes, Minister," Bones responded, her back straight and shoulders stiff.

"So what do you want from us?" Moody grumbled.

"Bones, what I have in my hand is an approval for budgeting. I want you to increase the Auror task force by fifty percent as soon as you can. You will have whatever resources you need. Moody, I wish for you to supervise the training of the new recruits. I understand you are retired, but your skills are needed as of this moment," Moratorium purred.

Both aurors' eyes widened in disbelief. Fudge had been the past Minister for quite some time, and he had always rejected Bones' request for a bigger budget for the enforcement department. Because of their small budget, they were severely limited on the force (in part, also, because Fudge cared more for politics than safety and refused to let the aurors investigate certain people).

"Moreover you have my permission, and encouragement, to investigate those you deem necessary to the utmost care," Moratorium said, still smiling. "I have no patience for politics, and I will not have the Dark Slut bringing his disgusting pets into my government. If anyone gives you grief, direct them to Dagonet of the Falk, our public and civilian relations expert. I have disclosed how to contact him inside."

Moratorium held out the envelope.

Bones swallowed roughly, hardly believing her luck. It seemed as though the Ministry really was taking a turn for the better. Or at least, this Minister seemed to know what had to be done. "Is that all, sir?"

"No. Any and all aurors under your orders must take a truth serum test to prove they are not in allegiance with the has-been. This test will be conducted once a month, every month, for so long as he is a threat. I want Moody to oversee these tests. Should you find any traitors, you will detain them. Since Azkaban is compromised, we will use one of my private islands."

"Private islands?" Moody questioned.

Moratorium smiled. "Don't worry. The coordinates and how to transport them there are also enclosed. I have an excellent prison."

After all, Moratorium mused, a dead Death Eater is the best prisoner, and my assassins guild makes for the perfect prison for such a prisoner.

A confident, determined Bones marched out of Moratorium's office late that night (or was it early that morning?), knowing exactly what she had to do. A rather suspicious, but satisfied Moody stomped behind her.

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry gave a large yawn as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. The press conference had been quick, especially with Dagonet's introduction—which had all the lady reporters swooning (and Harry kinda wishing she could swap places with a few of them, but Moratorium was adamant about not leaving her in his company for any length of time). Moratorium's assurance that the government was taking action (and proof, as he explained what he had tasked Bones and Moody to do) was taken with much relief. When Dagonet moved on to explain, on a lighter note, the re-establishment of the races, the reporters ate it up.

And so, nine o'clock that very morning (as the conference had taken place at seven, and ended roughly at eight for Moratorium—eight-thirty for Dagonet) Harry found herself in the Great Hall, trying to eat breakfast without falling asleep.

"Oh, I'm glad this Moratorium fellow is actually doing something," Hermione sighed as she read the paper. "I still don't know what to really make of him, though…"

"I think it's brilliant the races are back on, though," Ron said brightly, shoveling food in his mouth. "Hope I can see the finals."

Hermione sniffed.

"Neville, you okay?" Harry asked, looking over at her friend.

Neville sighed. "I don't… I don't really like the fact that the Death Eaters broke out…"

Hermione frowned and reached over to pat Neville's shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be put back soon enough."

Neville merely shrugged mutely in response, still poking at his food.

Harry yawned again, and Titan yipped at her. She idly sat her plate down on the floor where Titan lapped it up happily before she pulled out a few of Porteurdemort's milk bottles. The baby hydra squirmed in her lap as she charmed the bottles to hover in place in front of his mouths.

"Harry, you're going to the finals, aren't you?" Ron asked.

"Mm-hmm."

"Think you could swing me some seats?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Dear, I'll get you whatever you want," Harry assured him absently, then yawned again. "Oh, good grief. I'm going back to bed."

"Harry," Hermione scolded.

"But, I'm tired," she whined.

"Then drink coffee," Hermione retorted.

Harry pouted, but didn't move to go back to bed. Tom snickered and made whipping sounds. "You're so whipped."

_Shut up, eye-candy._

Tom continued to smirk at her, and Harry's cheeks turned rosy from what she thought was frustration.

(◡‿◡✿)

A couple nights later, Harry made a humming sound.

_Hey, Tom? Would you be a dear and leave the room? Hermione and I need to… talk… girl… stuff._

Tom's eyes widened in undisguised horror at that, and without a word, he floated out of the room.

Harry tucked her legs underneath her, and unabashedly stared at Hermione across the room. The two girls shared the room with Lavender Brown, and Parvati Patil. The room was fairly large and oval, with long windows covering one side. There were red curtains that fell across them, covering them. There were window seats tucked in each window filled with red and gold cushions. Each bed was a canopy bed, but three of the beds had their curtains stripped down. The only one that kept its red curtains was Harry's.

Whenever Harry had to change, she pulled the curtains to do so. Lavender's bed was covered in pink and frills, while Parvati's was a rush of bright colors. Hermione's bed was a creamy gold and covered in pillows.

The carpet was a rich red with golden swirls and the House crest emblazoned upon it. There were wooden chests in front of each bed—a couple enchanted to double as dressers.

Lavender and Parvati were gone for the night—they were going to stay the night at Ravenclaw's with Parvati's twin sister. Something about a sleep over. Hermione and Harry remained, despite being offered multiple times before the girls left.

Hermione currently sat in her bed, many books laid askew. She sat crisscross, a book in her lap and a pencil tucked behind her ear as she read through the text.

Harry crawled to the edge of her bed, and cleared her throat. "Hermione?"

Hermione looked up and blinked. "Hm? What's wrong?"

"Nothing… I was … I was hoping you could do me a favor," Harry mumbled, a blush crossing over her cheeks as she lowered her eyes.

Hermione smiled. "What can I do?"

"I, um… you remember in Ancient Runes class… ah… how we were taught how to draw permanent runes on the skin?"

"Of course," Hermione said, frowning briefly. "Are you wanting a tattoo?"

"I guess you could call it that," Harry admitted. "But, um… I don't want it to be in a well-seen place, so then… you know… it's in a kind of awkward place I can't reach?"

"Your back?" Hermione inquired.

A thrill of fear ran through Harry at the very idea of anyone else seeing her back. She had to swallow it back. "No. No. Definitely not. My… my chest."

Hermione stared at Harry for a couple of minutes, before she blushed. "Oh. I see. Alright."

Harry gave a sheepish smile. "I'm… I'm sorry this is rather sudden, and…"

Hermione shook her head. "It's a rune. That means there's a special meaning behind it, so I am assuming this is very important to you."

"It is," Harry said quietly.

Hermione shut her book and sat it down on the bed. "Do you have the proper ink?"

"Yeah. … give me a moment, okay?"

"Of course."

Harry shut the curtains around her bed, and went ahead and unbuttoned the top of her long-sleeved blouse. She definitely couldn't risk Hermione seeing her arms, or her back exposed. At least… she … didn't want her to. Harry adjusted her clothing, making sure she was still, somewhat, decent, and only a bare patch of her skin was exposed before she pulled the curtains back. "Okay. The ink is on my nightstand."

"Right," Hermione said, quickly Accio'ing the ink towards her. She caught it along with the brush with ease before she moved to sit in front of Harry. Harry scooted back to give her some room. "So what do I need to draw?"

Harry pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket and held it out to her. Hermione took it, and her eyes widened. "Oh… wow, this… a complicated piece."

Harry chewed her bottom lip. "Can you do it?"

"I can," Hermione assured her. "I'm … surprised. What…?"

"I have a friend," Harry began, "and this rune… this rune will help him. I think. Or… maybe… it'll make him happy. I … I want him to be happy, so…"

Hermione's eyes lit up and danced with a kind of knowing glow. "I see. And does this boy have a name?"

"… Tom," Harry said slowly.

Hermione made a humming sound. "I see. I see."

A curious silence fell between the two girls. Harry yearned to question exactly why Hermione looked so smug, but she had a sneaky suspicion that either Hermione wouldn't tell her… or she wouldn't like the answer. So, she pursed her lips and stared at her friend in an inquisitive fashion.

Hermione, for the most part, focused on replicating the rune pattern. She worked meticulously, and in a short time the rune was completely drawn. It glowed a pale red, and Harry re-buttoned her shirt.

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely. She hesitated a moment, but then she reached out her arms and wrapped them around Hermione's shoulders and pulled her close. "… For everything."

Hermione returned her hug as fiercely. "That's what friends are for. Harry… I didn't… I didn't have a lot of friends growing up. You were my first friend. And you've made my life… well, most certainly interesting, and I know you care. I know you do. And I know that you'll always be there for me."

Harry's eyes were starting to itch, and her chest felt a little tight, but she cleared her throat and told her, "Always. I swear."

Hermione pulled back, smiling. "Now… tell me more about this Tommy."

Harry snorted. "Just Tom. He's… he's definitely not a Tommy."

Hermione grasped Harry's hands in her own. "Alright. So what is he like?"

"He's… smart. Really smart. I can't beat him in chess. He likes to read a lot. He can be a bit smug at times, too, but he means well. Well… okay, he means well for the most part. He likes snakes."

Hermione's smile widened, stretching into a smirk. "Mhmm. And tell me one thing, Harry. When you're with this… Tom… the two of you… what do you feel?"

Harry tilted her head as she considered the question. "… Um… Happy, I guess?"

Hermione nodded, accepting this. Then she winked. "You're smitten."

Harry's eyes widened. "What? Am not!"

"You so are. You got a permanent rune for this boy."

"It is not permanent," Harry protested. "I could remove it if I put my mind to it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He makes you happy."

"You make me happy, and I'm not smitten with you," Harry retorted.

"I bet he makes you feel a different kind of happy," Hermione sung. "I bet he makes your stomach feel like it's hosting butterflies, and your heart skip a beat. I bet he makes you blush."

Harry's cheeks turned bright red. "I—That—Those could all be completely unrelated."

Hermione gasped. "So you do feel that way?!"

"It's—what about you? Does anyone make you feel that way?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Not… not especially. I've been a bit… distracted as of late to really worry about that. Besides, we have the N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s coming up."

"The O.W.L.s will be a piece of cake," Harry dismissed, "and the N.E.W.T.s aren't happening for another year."

Hermione lightly flicked Harry's nose. "That kind of procrastinated and dismissive thinking is what prevents a perfect score."

Harry stuck her tongue out.

(◡‿◡✿)

With so much going on—startling amounts of homework that frequently kept the fifth years working until past midnight, and regular classes with Snape—February seemed to pass by rather quickly. Before Harry knew it, it was the end of the month, and she and several of her friends were leaving Hogwarts for the day to go to the finals of the races (with parent permission, of course).

The finals was being held in a large canyon that was filled to the brim with water. It was a water obstacle course, instead of flying like the semi-finals. Harry, Ron, the twins, Hermione, and Hagrid all shuffled together and left Hogwarts (of course, this included their more beastie companions) and met up with Sirius and Remus at one of the many portkeys provided to give transport.

The group arrived at the grounds with time to spare, and Harry cited that she was needed elsewhere to prepare and would see them after the race. After being warned to not take unnecessary risks, Harry fled from the group.

It hadn't taken long to find the judges' tent. Moratorium was, originally, scheduled to judge (not that he ever intended to do so). However, Harry had Moratorium's note citing that he was too busy to attend and Marwyn would do so in his place—now all she had to do was find Marwyn.

"There you are, my lady."

Harry whirled around. Marwyn smiled easily at her, Efface right at his side. She held out her hand. "The note."

"Ah, thank you, my lady," Marwyn said, bowing.

"My lady?"

Marwyn's head snapped up, and almost immediately he and Efface positioned themselves between Harry and the speaker. Harry resisted the urge to roll her eyes at their protective nature; instead, she poked her head between them and smiled at the speaker. "Hullo."

L Bradford, prince of the vampires, smiled in return. "Hello. You must be Harry Potter."

Harry stepped out from behind Moratorium's favorite employees and offered her hand. The second she was in front of them, and no longer hidden, L's nostrils flared and his eyes widened briefly (Harry noticed there was another young gentleman beside him who held a similar reaction). This only lasted a handful of seconds before he was composed again and smiling. He deftly took the offered hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. "I am L, my lady."

Harry blushed prettily. " Harry will do, monsieur."

"Indeed," L said, smirking. He then gestured to a handsome young man with bright green eyes and chocolatey brown hair. "This is one of my brethren, Gage. He'll be judging with me today."

Gage smiled thinly at her. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise. I'm one of the contestants today, though."

"So what are you doing here?" Gage inquired.

"She was checking the rules with us," Marwyn answered swiftly, "as Lady Potter has been known to frequently… bend… them."

Tom snorted. "An understatement."

Harry smiled faintly. "I wanted to make sure everything was in order. I recognized Monsieur Marwyn from the pictures in the Daily Prophet and thought he was my best bet."

"Of course," L said smoothly. "Do you have any more questions?"

"None, thank you, though. I shall take my leave, then," Harry answered, politely excusing herself and hurrying away.

_Did you see L's reaction?_

"It was a curious one," Tom mused.

Don't worry, dear, Moratorium cooed to her. Everything will be fine.

Harry took comfort in Moratorium's words and hurried off to the front lines.

(◡‿◡✿)

She wore a thin black swim-shirt and black swim-squort. She couldn't wear swimsuits due to her… scars… and was forced to settle for this attire instead. Not that she was complaining. She had no intentions of actually being under water. Moratorium had offered, several times, that he could change the course to something that didn't run that risk, but Harry would hear none of it.

This kind of environment was perfect for her darling familiar to race in, and she really wanted to race with him. She would be all too willing to run the risk of being knocked off into the water if it meant sharing this moment with him. Besides, Hermione had specially enchanted the swim-shirt and swim-squort to keep Harry afloat at all times.

There were many racers gathered on the huge dock. Most were standing in front of their creatures on the dock (as racers weren't allowed to board, yet) and Harry was a little annoyed to find there were no other racing creatures in the snake family in the water (most were closer to being in the fish, or dolphin family, with the exception of a few unique cases). It would have been so satisfying to coerce one of them to turn on their owner and then run away with Harry and her darling familiar.

Basileus had been discreetly summoned into the water and was now directly underneath the wooden dock, right below Harry. She didn't want everyone seeing her darling so soon. She wanted to savor the moment.

The race was simple—make it from one end of the canyon to the other and make before the others.

"On your mark…"

Harry poised her wand directly below her, grinning maniacally.

"… get set… Go!"

The whistle blew, and Harry gleefully blew up the deck and fell atop her darling familiar's head. This caused a ripple effect as many fell into the water from having the deck destroyed. Naturally, such an attack did nothing to her darling Basileus due to his magic-resistant scales.

Basileus let out a feral cry, freezing half of the competitor's beasts before he sprang up high out of the water. He let out another screech, opening his mouth as wide as he could and displaying his powerful venom-coated fangs. Harry clung on tight to him, giggling with glee and feeling absolute adoration for her precious snake.

When Basileus hit the water, a small tidal wave formed, knocking the frozen competitors from their mounts and the great basilisk wasted no time in cutting through the water towards the end of the canyon.

"This. Is. Amazing!" Harry cried out happily, raising her arms high above her as she sat squarely on top of Basileus' head.

Tom's eyes danced with amusement as he sat beside her. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

Then Harry turned to face Tom, her eyes bright with such joy it was almost infectious. Her smile was spread so wide it was hard not to find it blinding. Everything about her, at that moment, seemed alive.

Unknowingly, Tom's gaze softened.

(◡‿◡✿)

"WOO-HOO! WHO'S THE CHAMPION? THAT'S RIGHT, I AM!" Harry yelled, pumping her fist in the air and dancing around on top of Basileus' head. It was a beautiful race, Harry believed, in her completely objective opinion. She had to knock a few more competitors off their mounts with some well-placed stinging hexes, but none had managed to knock her off.

The judges, L, Gage, Marwyn, Lockhart, and some elf in place of Dagonet (as he was unable to make it) that Harry couldn't remember the name to, all came to greet the victor at the docks. The spectators weren't allowed down to the docks, yet, but a handful of reporters were.

"Congratulations Harry Potter," Lockhart began, positively beaming. "That was a completely one-sided race."

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely. "I couldn't have done it without my familiar, though, Basileus."

"What an interesting companion you have chosen," L commented. "However did you meet?"

"On an adventure, of course," Harry answered.

Lockhart chuckled and confidently extended his hand out to Harry. Harry took it and reluctantly stepped off Basileus to properly receive her trophy from the judges.

Harry was handed the trophy, and she smiled for the camera with all the judges in the picture with her (and Basileus' head made for the perfect background, even if he did have to keep his pretty eyes closed), and then she was free to go.

She joined her friends and family after dismissing Basileus (the spell she used to summon him was capable of reverse-summoning) back to the chambers.

"I am so glad I bought a camera," Sirius had told her, positively beaming, and leading the group away. "Their faces… Oh, God, it's so priceless."

Harry giggled.

(◡‿◡✿)

"I hate her," Draco muttered as he shoved his way in between Hermione and Harry and pulled up his hood. "I am not here."

Hermione's cheeks were a faint dusty red as she eyed Draco. "What's going on?"

"Hermione and I were studying, you know," Harry said dryly.

"Don't care," Draco grumbled petulantly. "Pansy won't leave me alone."

Harry snickered, while a flash of annoyance crossed over Hermione's face. "Then why don't you tell her to leave you alone?"

"You don't think I've tried?" Draco demanded. "She's a bloody parasite. All girls are parasites."

The two girls exchanged amused looks.

Harry smirked. "That's rather rude, you know."

Draco shrugged. "Well, obviously, you two aren't. You aren't girls."

Hermione's eyes widened. A stubborn, irritated glint appeared in her eyes. She puffed up, completely prepared to start a long argument. "I am, too!"

"No," Draco corrected, "you're a young woman."

All anger seemed to leave Hermione, and she blushed brightly. "Oh."

"Exactly," Draco said, nodding his head. "Oh, bollocks, she's coming this way. I am not here!"

Draco practically cocooned himself in his black robes.

"Have you two seen Draco?" Pansy asked, hurrying over towards them.

"No," Harry said, her lips twitching in amusement.

"… I see," Tom mused, looking in between a blushing Hermione and cocooned Draco.

_Wait, what do you see?_

"If you see him, tell him I'm looking for him," said Pansy, already turning and hurrying away. "And you really shouldn't let Ron sleep during study time. Merlin knows he's horrible at his studies already."

When she was gone, Draco popped his head out from under his robes, looking mildly disgusted. "She thought I was Ron?"

Hermione cleared her throat, her cheeks still pink—Harry wondered briefly if her friend was feeling ill—and said, "Draco, would you like to study with us?"

Draco glanced at Hermione, and for a brief moment Harry thought his cheeks were a bit pink, too, before he mumbled, "Sure."

That's when Harry realized there was this odd atmosphere between her two friends. It felt bright and warm, almost electrified. There was this underlying tension she couldn't quite explain. She coughed nervously.

"You might want to leave now," Tom told her.

Harry quickly grabbed her things. "Yeah… I'm gonna go now. See you two later."

Her two friends' eyes widened and they snapped their heads towards her, but before they could voice disagreement with this, Harry had already fled.

"That was weird," she mumbled.

"Hormones usually are," Tom agreed.

A couple more weeks passed by in a simple routine until one evening Tom beckoned Harry to follow him. Harry did so, with a trotting Titan behind her, and a sleepy Porteurdemort in her arms. It was rather late into the evening, and she still had some homework to do, but she wasn't overly concerned about it. It was only Sunday night, after all.

"Where are we going, Tom?" Harry asked as he led her down an empty corridor.

"I think you're strong enough now," Tom told her, not looking back at her. "I wanted to wait… to wait until you were mentally strong enough. I think it's time we took care of one of the horcruxes—the one in the castle."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Oh, how lovely."

Tom gave her a fleeting smile before he stopped. "It's in the room of requirement—in the place where things go to get lost."

Harry paused before the large wall and briefly concentrated. In less than a minute a large iron door appeared before her and she gently set Porteurdemort down on top of Titan. "You two need to head back to the dorms. It's not safe—stay with Hermione."

Titan whined in protest, but Harry would hear none of it. So, grudgingly, Titan took himself and the baby back to the dorms.

With ease Harry pushed the doors open, and stared around at the large room filled to the brim with clutter. She only had a second to look around, however, when her scar began to tingle. Her nose scrunched up and her brow furrowed as she tried to pinpoint where the sensation was coming from. As she walked through the room, Tom stayed at her side.

"Oh," Harry said, as she finally reached her destination. Harry admired the diadem for a moment, her gaze softening. "It's… rather pretty."

Tom awarded her with an amused look. "My, my. Is Harry Potter admiring a tiara?"

"It's a diadem," Harry corrected, blushing. "A-And so what? I can like pretty things, too, you know."

Tom's eyes danced with ill-disguised mirth. "You must love yourself, then."

Harry spluttered, her face lit aflame and her heart hammering inside her chest. Before she could demand why Tom was teasing her so—because surely he was joking—he had already turned his back to her.

"We will need to take it quickly back to the chambers for safe keeping. Don't touch it—"

However it was far too late for Tom to have said those words because Harry's fingers had already brushed across the tip of the diadem. Immediately, she felt her body seize up as a cold power ran through her. She was propelled backwards as if thrown away and a great black, shadowy hand emerged from the diadem.

Adrenaline pumped through Harry, and her eyes widened considerably.

"Bollocks," Tom summed up nicely. "Harry, run. We'll come back when it's asleep again, and—"

However, running wasn't really much of an option as Harry had landed rather painfully and awkwardly in a pile of junk and currently found herself stuck in it. "Um… Well, shite."

The giant hand groped at her and she raised her hands in a silent, wandless stupefy—but the spell passed through it harmlessly and knocked over a pile of junk behind it. The hand grabbed her, ripping her out of the pile and tossing her up into the air. Harry's stomach dropped and she wasted little time in casting a diffindo at the ground below her—using the repelling force of the spell to keep her from hitting the ground too hard.

"How the bloody hell do I stop this thing?" Harry demanded.

"You don't," Tom retorted. "Not unless you want to destroy it."

Harry threw him a disgruntled look. "You're lucky I like you so much."

Tom didn't really know how to respond to that, and Harry turned on her heel and made a mad dash towards the diadem.

"It's an area spell," Tom called out behind her. "I cast it on the room, not the actual diadem. If you get it out of the room—"

"Got it," Harry called back. The hand dispersed, leaving behind tufts of murky shadow in the air that slowly began to spin in place and make a whirring sound. "Oh, dear."

Harry had little time to cast the strongest shielding charm she had around herself as the razor-sharp shadows dove towards her. A few of them made it past the shield and easily sliced alongside her legs and sides. Harry cringed at that, but was damn determined.

When she reached the diadem she gripped it tightly in her hands, and again she felt that familiar jolt of energy, but this time she was prepared for it, and she didn't let go. The shadows hissed, enraged at this, and formed a giant, rather grotesque head behind her.

Her eyes widened as Harry turned on her heel and shamelessly sprinted as fast as she could from the invulnerable shadow.

Now's the perfect time to try that, Harry thought to herself, already drawing upon her magic and shoving it in her legs. Her legs burned something fierce, but she felt lighter at the same time, and she was able to move faster.

Everything the shadow touched seemed to fall apart into dust, and Harry had no intentions of being dust, as that would seriously put a damper in her plans.

Harry shot through the door and the shadow screamed in fury behind her as the door slammed shut.

Harry wheezed as the magic left her legs and she crumpled to the floor. Everything about her seemed to ache. The adrenaline had, apparently, hid the majority of the injuries that she had gained from her initial toss-up.

As the adrenaline started to fade away, so too did her energy.

At least I now know that I can use my magic to enhance my physical strength, Harry thought dryly, recalling her significant burst in speed when she had done exactly that.

"Honestly that was so…" Tom trailed off for a moment, frustration crossing over his face. "I … this should have been easier. This should have gone off without an issue. Instead… Instead of… of this. I mean… I mean look at you, Harry. You're… you're in tatters, and…"

Harry struggled to sit up, but winced at the sharp pain that raced across her ribs. Her clothes were torn into shreds, and it was a tad difficult to breathe. Tom's face flickered between concern and annoyance as he floated down to kneel in front of her. He reached out a hand, as if wanting to help her, but pulled back.

In a fit of emotion—emotion that Harry couldn't quite identify—she snapped out her hand and grasped his.

Tom's eyes widened in disbelief as he felt her hand wrap around his own. "What?"

Harry winced, but brought her other hand up to her shirt. She pulled back on the tear and presented the rune drawn in the center of her chest. "I—I had Hermione draw it in."

He was frozen. His hand felt cold in Harry's, and it felt loose—tentative. He rasped, his voice hoarse, "You trust me?"

"I do," Harry said quietly.

He hesitated, and then he gently brought his arms around her and picked her up. "… We need to get you away from here… We have to clean you up and… and close the wounds. I doubt you want to go to the Nurse's office for this, so we'll go to the Chambers."

Harry tiredly closed her eyes, as she felt herself relaxing. Tom was moving swiftly towards the nearest entrance to the chambers, but he stiffened when Harry's head dropped onto his shoulder. "Tom?"

"Yes?"

"You'll take care of it, won't you?"

"… I can."

"Good," Harry mumbled, "because I'm tired."

Tom swallowed roughly. "Then go to sleep. I'll take care of it."

"Good."

"And Harry?"

"Yes, Tom?"

"You're heavy."

"Shut up, Tom."

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry awoke to a warm fire, and her back pressed against a familiar comfort. She slowly blinked her eyes open and found that she was resting against Basileus. Glancing down she found that her wounds were closed up—by magic, Tom's magic, more than likely.

"Oh, you're up."

Harry looked over as Tom floated towards her, his expression thoughtful. "The diadem is in the office. Thankfully it was already on you when you passed out, so I could carry it by carrying you back here."

"That's good," Harry said tiredly, and then rubbed her eyes. "What time is it?"

Tom winced. "Well… actually… it's Monday night."

Harry shot up, then immediately regretted that notion as a jarring exhaustion overtook her. "I need to—oh, my—to get to Snape's lessons. He'll have my hide if I don't."

Tom gave her a worried look, and carefully helped her up. "You saw how that shadow turned everything into ash, didn't you? It seemed it had drained quite a bit of your magical core when it initially grabbed you. I tried to restore what I could, but it will take time. Harry, do not exert yourself."

Harry shot Tom a grateful look. "Thank you, Tom. I knew I could rely on you."

Tom swallowed roughly. "Don't… don't… I… Get to class."

"Pleassse be careful, Missstresss," Basileus hissed softly.

(◡‿◡✿)

It was a sore, and very tired Harry that entered Snape's office that night.

"You're late, Potter," said Snape coldly. Harry shut the door behind her.

Harry warily sat down in her chair as Snape turned to face her, pulling out his wand. "Let us get this over with. Ten attempts tonight, and if I have not breached your defenses, we will be done…"

"Yes, sir," Harry mumbled, resisting the urge to yawn.

"One… two… three!"

In most nights Snape would never come close to breaking Harry's walls. Harry had been practicing the art of Occlumency since her first year with a passion. She was determined not to be any sort of hindrance to Moratorium's plans (or her own for that matter), and having a wizard be able to read your own mind was definitely a big no-no for her.

However, this night Harry was exceptionally tired and her magical core had been significantly drained. Enough so that on Snape's third attempt to breach her mental barriers…

… he succeeded.

In hindsight, Harry couldn't quite tell if it was lucky or unlucky that he went straight into that one memory.

The moment he breached her barriers, Harry knew something horrible was about to happen. She tried to will up every ounce of energy she could to push him out, but she found herself unable to concentrate nearly as well as a particular memory played around her and Shape.

She was squirming and screaming and crying. Her hands were pinned above her and tied together with a belt and her shirt was discarded long ago, again. His big meaty hands held her in place as Petunia picked up the red hot poker from the fire place—

F –

It dug into her skin as Petunia chided her that this was for the best—that this way anyone who bothered to see her past the fake smiles would know. They would know that she was a nasty, no good, dirty, disgusting, little—

R –

She writhed, and begged, and pleaded for them to stop. She screamed again when the next letter was carved into her skin, and then POW—

E –

His fist was ohsoverylarge and her head was ohsoverytiny and she was seeing stars from the blow, as he scolded her for crying. Told her it gave him a migraine, and that they were doing this for her own good, really. If anyone came close to her—if anyone bothered to look underneath they needed to know that she was a—

A –

When the last of it was carved out and she couldn't stop sobbing, Vernon dragged her back over to the sink and filled it with water. She whimpered and pleaded no more, but he said he warned her to have shut up, and he told her, if she wasn't going to shut up, then she could learn to keep her tongue under water.

K –

He shoved her head under the water.

Harry finally had the energy to shove him out, and with great effort she did so. The two were back in the office.

Harry's cheeks were wet, and she was twitching. Her breath was caught in her throat and there was nonono time to think whatsososoever. She scrambled out of her chair, and sprinted out of the office, not pausing for a moment to examine Snape's reaction.

But, then, Harry stopped.

She slammed her heels down on the tile flooring, every inch of her shaking with mortification, and a deep, deep sorrow. She took deep breaths and triedtriedtried to calm down—she attempted to stop her hands from shaking, but once she discovered she was unable to, she settled for holding them tightly clenched together.

Her head was pounding and she had this undeniable urge to run.

But, she wouldn't.

She refused to.

I'm not running again, Harry told herself. I. Am. Harry. Lily. Potter. I am the goddamn Girl-Who-Lived. I. Do. Not. Run.

And so, with a flare of stubbornness, Harry whirled around, all prepared to stomp back into those dungeons and tell Snape point blank that she was done with her past.

She was sososo prepared to do so, but she found she lost her nerve once she turned around.

Because right behind her was Professor Snape.

Harry swallowed roughly, squashing down her rising sense of panic. Instead, she balled up her fists—though her hands still trembled—and she growled (though it came across shaky), "I am not running away. I. Am. Harry. Potter."

Professor Snape continued to stare at her, and Harry did her best to ignore his look because it was a damn familiar one, and her emotions were running far too high to process it.

She continued, "I do not run away. I-I am not scared of you. I-I don't care. I don't care. I-I am st-strong. I am strong. I a-am n-not th-that thing that y-you saw."

She trembled, and her bottom lip quivered, but she held her ground. Her legs had turned to jelly, but she absolutely refused to give in.

Professor Snape still said nothing, waiting for her to finish.

"S-So," she whispered, "so, you can pr-pretend you didn't s-see that."

"It would take nothing less than an obliviate to do that," he whispered, his voice velvety soft.

Harry itched to pull out her wand at that point and oblige him, but something stopped her. As she continued to return Snape's even gaze with her (albeit shakier) own, she was forced to realize something.

He was not looking at her in pity, like Dumbledore had.

He was not looking at her in disgust, like Vernon had.

He was not looking at her in jealously, like Petunia had.

He was not looking at her like a piece of furniture, like Dudley had.

He was not looking at her in anger, like he usually had.

He was looking at her like Tom first did when he saw.

In brutal, horrendous, understanding.

And then Harry had a terrible, terrible thought.

Can one of them… be like one of us? Harry Potter wondered. Is he… like me?

A cold shudder ran through Harry, and a sharp knife twisted inside her heart, digging deep inside of her. She whispered, so scared of the answer, "Are you like me?"

Professor Snape did not respond for a long, long time.

When he did, he did not verbally answer her question. "It is late, Miss Potter. Would you like some tea before you go?"

And Harry Potter sagged, because Harry Potter did not need a verbal answer.

His eyes were answer enough.

So, she nodded her head, and the two traveled back down into the dungeons together.

Because Severus Snape's eyes said: Yes.

Meanwhile, Moratorium remained quiet, simply watching everything unfold through Harry's eyes.

(◡‿◡✿)

When Harry returned to the dorms—and reassured a frantic Hermione that no, her eyes were not puffy or red, and yes, she was perfectly fine, a little bit tired—she patted her bed. Titan easily crawled up into it—although he took up most of the space. Porteurdemort, Harry assumed, was probably in the chambers with Tom.

Harry buried her face against Titan's soft fur and closed her eyes.

Before she fell asleep, she found herself idly wishing Tom would be there with her in the morning. She could use a bit of that funny happiness he made her feel.

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry didn't see Snape for the rest of the week, as she didn't have Potions class for the rest of the week. What she did have, instead, was a career advice meeting.

As the O.W.L.s were fast approaching ( a month away now), all of the fifth year students were assigned meetings with their Head of House, and it was for this reason that Harry sat across from her friends in the library, all of them browsing through brochures.

"I think I found something Harry would like," Draco said, drawing everyone's attention. " 'Are you seeking a challenging career involving ravel, adventure, and substantial danger-related treasure bonuses? Then consider a position with Gringotts Wizarding Bank. We are currently recruiting Curse-Breakers for thrilling opportunities abroad.…' Although they want Arithmancy."

Harry tilted her head.

"It sounds like something you would enjoy," said Tom.

"I don't fancy the money bit, and to be frank if I find treasure, I'd rather keep it myself," Harry admitted.

"Well I don't fancy Healing," Ron said, tossing one of the brochures away in disgust. "It says here you need at least an E at N.E.W.T. level in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts. I mean… blimey… they don't want much, do they?"

"Well, it's a very responsible job, isn't it?" Hermione and Draco responded. Then realizing the two had spoken in synch, had exchanged rather bemused looks—although Draco's cheeks were a bit redder than usual.

"Guys," Neville said anxiously, looking over at the big clock in the library, "Potions is in six minutes."

Immediately the students lurched into action, quickly shoving books and brochures in their bags as they hurried to pack up their things. At the mention of Potions, Harry felt her stomach do a little flip-flop. It would be the first time she encountered Snape since he had breached her shields.

The students sprinted for their class—barely scraping by with a minute left.

Professor Snape swept into the room, his eyes roaming across the students, then settled upon Harry for a brief moment before continuing on. Snape had made no outward response of acknowledging her existence, as normal.

Harry smiled faintly at that, looking down at her cauldron.

"There are instructions on the board. You have until the end of class to produce an O level potion, or you will fail for the day," Snape said, his voice velvety soft. "Begin…"

(◡‿◡✿)

It was a normal day in Potions for Harry, and Harry could not be more thankful. She and her friends headed out towards Hagrid's class next. She absently wondered if Titan and her other babies were enjoying their day—Basileus was taking them out for a trip through the Forbidden Forest to properly show Titan how to hunt for food, or something akin—as much as she was.

"Please let it be a simple creature," Hermione quietly begged. The past classes had been relatively safe, as it had taken Harry some time to procure the interesting animals, and as much time to build the appropriate housing environments for them. Hagrid insisted he could build them himself, but Harry would hear nothing of it.

Last week, Hagrid had announced to the class that some of those creatures had finally been procured.

"Alrigh', 'ere we are," Hagrid said, gesturing to the entrance of a man-made cave a bit past his hut. He had to open a large door to access it, and the students all shuffled in behind him. Warm blue moss lit up the ceiling of the cave, making it very visible. Curled up in a pile of hay were a few odd creatures.

Initially they had the body of a lion with thick gold fur, however their legs did not match any natural lion's legs. The front legs slowly dissolved into scaly flesh—more avian in nature, with three sharp, black, curled claws at the end. The back legs were more akin to some monstrous, fleshy-scaled goat. Each of the legs had tufts of black fur growing out from behind it.

The head of the creatures was shaped as a goat, but had long, protruding fangs growing out of its underbite. It had two impossibly long black horns curl half way down its body before ending at a sharp point. It had a ghost-white lion's mane, but the front of its mane was charred black and held a monstrous face in it—it reminded Harry vaguely of an archetypal demon's face.

Its tail was longer than its body, and was a dark forest green. The tail's golden eyes peered through the darkness at the students, while the head of the main body's red eyes squinted at the students.

Three baby chimaeras stared at the students.

Hagrid beamed, and Rutherford hopped off Hagrid's shoulders and scrambled over to them. One of the chimaeras lurched up from the nest and met the dragon halfway before playfully tackling it.

"Oh, if only I'd brought Titan and Porteurdemort," Harry said wistfully, already making a mental note for Dobby to build a secret passage out here to the Chambers so Basileus could also play with them. She also made a mental note to bring Titan and Porteurdemort out here to play with them as often as she could.

The other two chimaeras slowly followed behind their sibling and joined in on the playful tussle with Rutherford.

Hagrid gestured to all of them. "These here are some rescued baby chimaeras that yer gonna help raise."

"Help… raise?" Hermione squeaked.

"Oh, yay," Harry exclaimed. She knew she could count on Marwyn to obtain the babies. "Can we pet them now, Hagrid? Oh, please?"

Hagrid laughed. "Firs' I need to tell yeh 'bout safety with handling these babies…"

Harry immediately held up her hands and stomped to the front of the class. She whipped out her wand and very menacingly said, "I swear if any of you harm these babies, or get Hagrid in trouble because you can't follow directions, I will hurt you in the most painful way I know possible."

Draco swallowed nervously. "We'll behave."

Harry beamed.

Hagrid grinned. "That's good, 'cause their momma should be back soon. Chimaeras are seriously misunderstood creatures."

Most of the students shrieked in horror at this, while Harry looked positively thrilled.

She loved this class.

(◡‿◡✿)

At the end of the class, the students were having mixed feelings. Some of them were fairly satisfied with what was done—the babies were well-behaved for the most part, and the mother seemed fairly relaxed with having so many people around. The rest were rather scared, but determined not to let Harry know, and to actually try to get over their fear (this was especially true with the Gryffindors). The rest of the day followed by rather quickly, and before Harry knew it, night had fallen and it was time for her next lesson.

Harry rolled her head around her shoulders, stretching out. She had finished her career advice meeting with McGonagall and was on her way to her extra lessons with Snape. When she arrived, Snape was already waiting for her.

"Ten tries tonight will do, Miss Potter," said Snape, although Harry could not detect the usual coldness in his tone.

"Yes, sir."

When the lessons were done, and Harry had dismissed herself, she didn't return to the dormitory. Instead, Moratorium took control and headed to his office in the Ministry (which was currently being reconstructed to accommodate non-wizardry employees, such as the Falks).

Moratorium gave a small sigh as he glanced over the reports Dagonet had sent him. The Shishi still refused to give a definite answer if they wanted to join his new government. They were adamant about seeing how it turned out a couple decades down the road before committing. He could respect their suspicion—what he was doing was truly revolutionary, and could prove either to be a magnificent wonder, or a horrible disaster. They were cautious creatures to begin with, which was why Moratorium was so stubborn about recruiting them.

Still, Moratorium mused, glancing over the rest of the report, it seems as though the Eastern Ministry has implanted the changes rather well. The only real issues lie with the Western Ministry, then, who can't seem to get over their bruised egos. I'll ask L to look into them, then…

A knock sounded outside of Moratorium's office. He didn't glance up. "Come in."

Marwyn entered the room, Efface trailing behind him.

"Reports on the Hogwarts' Founders' artifacts?" Moratorium asked, still skimming through the rest of the report.

"Still being pieced together, my Lord," Marwyn responded. "We have, however, entirely purged our workforce of the wash-out's tools."

"Excellent," Moratorium said, finally looking up and smiling darkly.

Harry?

Mn?

Do you think you could go to sleep for a bit, dear? I wish to discuss a surprise for you.

Moratorium could feel Harry's surprise at this, but she didn't resist. When he was certain that she couldn't see or hear what he could, he cleared his throat. "Now, the reason I brought you both here. Some… new plans will be placed. It is time, Efface, that you knew the reason I had Marwyn train you. Before the night is over, I must ask you to make an Unbreakable Vow."

Efface bowed. "Yes, my Lord."

Moratorium said, "It's about Harry Potter…"

(◡‿◡✿)

More time passed on, and it seemed to go by so quickly—the O.W.L.s were fast approaching.

Snape finally lowered his wand at the end of the lesson. Silence fell into the room, as Harry worked to even out her breathing. Although Snape couldn't breach her shields again, he had come close a couple of times.

"Before I dismiss you," Snape said quietly, "there is something I must ask. The… Dursleys… they are alive?"

"As far as I know."

"You have… not sought retribution?"

Harry lowered her eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. "I honestly can't think of any punishment I could do to them that would satisfy me."

"I could think of many."

Harry smiled humorlessly. "Does it matter, anyway? What if I do… seek retribution… what good will it do me?"

"Peace of mind."

"Professor Snape, are you suggesting that I take vengeance against the Dursleys?"

Professor Snape slowly turned around to face Harry. His expression was entirely unreadable in the shadows of the office. His black eyes stared back at Harry's green ones, devoid of any hint of emotion. "I am merely stating my surprise that you have not taken any action. You have always been quick to respond as a… Marauder… and to defend your… pets."

Harry wearily stood up, and turned to leave. "Another time, Professor."

(◡‿◡✿)

"I'm pathetic," Harry told Tom later that night. She sat across from him in the empty chambers (Basileus was taking Porteurdemort for a swim through the lake). The two were engaged in another chess match.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I haven't taken any action against the Dursleys, you know."

"I have noticed. I figured you had a plan to do so later on," Tom commented.

"No," said Harry softly, her eyes lowering. "I … I don't know if I can."

Tom paused in moving his knight. "What do you mean?"

"You saw how I was with Umbridge, right?" she whispered. "I lost it. I reverted back to that little, pathetic girl. And you saw how I was with them over the summer. I became docile. Subservient. I … I'm afraid of that, Tom. I'm afraid if I'm near them ever again… after… after what happened with Umbridge, I … I don't know if I can raise a hand against them. I don't… I wish I could, but I don't know. I'm… afraid of them."

Tom's gaze darkened as he moved his bishop next. "… You are an extremely talented, and powerful young witch, Harry. They are helpless muggles."

"But—"

"I understand," he murmured softly. "I truly do. You aren't afraid of them, so much as you are afraid of what they could turn you into. They affect you—their mere presence is debilitating to you. I understand that perfectly well, Harry."

Harry closed her eyes after she moved her knight. "Isn't that pathetic?"

Tom was quiet for a full minute before he answered. "… No. What we—you have been through… it is not something normal people go through and come out okay. We all have our… our problems. You were… conditioned to feel that way around them. You had years—over a decade—of such training. It's understandable that you can't shake that off."

"I wish I could. I wish they would suffer."

"What does Moratorium say on the matter?"

"Even if he does take charge and enact revenge, he would be doing so with me fully conscious, which would cause stress. He says he would like to avoid causing unnecessary stress to me, and can wait until I am… capable… of enacting my own vengeance. Even still… I don't want to wait, Tom. I … I want to watch them suffer. I want to kill them. I want them to know pain and—and—"

Tom let out a soft sigh. "I know. Check, by the way."

Harry opened her eyes and awarded him with an annoyed look. "You can't even go easy on me when I am clearly under emotional distress?"

Tom smirked at her. "So what brought this on?"

"Professor Snape got me thinking, is all," she mumbled. "… Damn, I can't see a way out of that that won't lead me to checkmate in three moves."

Harry knocked over her king, signaling her defeat.

Tom chuckled. "You're getting better. I actually had to work for that one."

"At least there's that," Harry muttered dryly.

(◡‿◡✿)

The following day, Harry stormed across the grass, hell-bent.

"You really should calm down," Tom commented idly.

"That… that… monster attacked Porteurdemort!" Harry shrilled. "I am going to cut off his head and feed him to my familiar! As soon as I find out exactly why Hagrid has a giant in the Forbidden Forest and why he didn't tell me sooner, so I could have warned Basileus away!"

With a growl, Harry pounded on Hagrid's door.

Hagrid opened it, and then smiled widely at Harry for a moment, before he noticed the dark glint in her eyes. "Harry?"

"The giant, Hagrid. Care to explain? He almost grabbed Basileus last night, you know! He was minding his own business taking Porteurdemort for a midnight stroll and you know what he happened across? A giant trying to eat Porteurdemort. If that giant hadn't been so close to the hippogriff stand Basileus would have devoured him in an instant. The hippogriffs are lucky that Buckbeak's there and Basileus didn't want to startle him! Now explain yourself!"

Hagrid had the grace to look ashamed. "I'm sorry, 'Arry, I really am. I never meant for him teh try and eat Porter. I swear."

"Why do you have a giant?" Harry demanded.

"He's my brother," Hagrid sighed.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Why is he here?"

"They—they were bullyin' on him, 'cause he's so small,"

Harry's eyes were now slits. "Hagrid, I'm glad you have found your blood relation, but do not think for an instant you are obligated to this creature. Blood relations do not immediately equate to family, Hagrid."

"But—but—"

"Giants are not permitted on school grounds, Hagrid," Harry warned. "He is not an animal that can be tamed. He belongs with his own kind. If they were really picking on him for his size, I'll give him a bloody rune to permanently increase his size. But you cannot keep him here, unchecked, Hagrid. It's not only a danger to you, it's a danger to the animals I entrusted in your care. How do you think Rutherford would hold up to him? And do you doubt for an instant that he wouldn't try to eat him?"

Hagrid looked devastated, and Harry felt her anger soften a bit. "I jus—I jus' wanted…"

Harry reached out to him and gently took his big hands. "I know, dear. But, trust me… blood alone does not equate to family. And even though we are not bound by blood… I would like to imagine you as family, Hagrid."

Hagrid's eyes swelled up and he blubbered something that Harry couldn't quite make out before he swooped her up into a hug. "Thank yeh, Harry!"

Harry exchanged a pained glance with Tom as she tried to console the half-giant.

Tom only smirked in amusement at her.

"There, there, dear," Harry soothed. "I'll take care of everything. You can say your goodbyes to your brother at the end of the week, and I'll see to it that he is returned to his people… with a permanent rune."

"Thank yeh, Harry," Hagrid sniffled.

"Yes, yes…"

(◡‿◡✿)

That weekend Tom asked Harry if she was ready to retrieve the next two horcruxes. She answered with an immediate, and definite yes.

He told her there would be an unavoidable curse on one, and she would need to bring someone she detested to it, or someone she wouldn't mind killing.

Which was rather a problem for Harry, as while Harry herself didn't mind taking a life… she did care about adding needless pain to someone, and there wasn't anyone in particular she wanted to suffer. So, Moratorium instead offered to assume control while retrieving that particular piece.

The other piece, Tom warned her, had as deadly as a curse, but… like the diadem, it was an area of effect spell. If she could drag it out without touching it, she would be safe.

Moratorium, wanting to get his part over with, summoned Marwyn to bring him one of the captured Death Eaters outside of Hogsmeade that weekend, and to be prepared to Apparate around the world.

Moratorium, still physically as Harry, greeted Marwyn with a wan smile. He noticed the bound, and unconscious man beside his favorite tool. Tom floated behind him, an irritated expression on his face. Moratorium knew Tom would much rather be spending this time with Harry, rather than he, but frankly, he didn't care. He wouldn't allow Harry to undergo any sort of unnecessary stress if he could help it. He was adamant about that.

Moratorium held out a small picture towards Marwyn. It was something Tom had told Harry where to find—as he left the picture at Hogwarts, in the Chamber of Secrets, since his third year. "Here is where we must first go."

Marwyn glanced over it. "Right away."

Moratorium gripped Marwyn's arm and with a sharp snap, the group apparated above a steep cliff. There was a dark forest behind them, and the sea raged violently against the cliff. Even the sky seemed heavy and oppressive here, casting an ominous atmosphere.

Tom frowned. "… It's not here."

Moratorium, already realizing this, snorted and switched back with Harry.

Harry blinked. "… What? What do you mean it's not here?"

Tom, recognizing Harry's lighter tone of voice, smiled fleetingly at her—pleased to have her back, rather than Moratorium. "I can sense them when they are nearby. I can guarantee you it's not here. It seems as if it's been moved."

Harry frowned. "I see."

Then, as if remembering Marwyn, she turned towards him and smiled sheepishly. "It seems what we're looking for isn't here. Um… we won't be needing him."

Marwyn gave a nod, and without pause, he raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra."

The man slumped over, dead.

"Tabes," Marwyn said, and his wand glowed a dark purple. Within seconds, the body had completely decayed, and the bones turned to ash.

Tom whistled. "That's useful."

"What spell is that?" Harry asked curiously, glancing thoughtfully over at Tom.

Marwyn smiled. "A forgotten one. If you wish, my Lady, I will gladly teach it to you."

_Do you wish to learn it?_

"I wouldn't say no," admitted Tom.

"That would be very nice," Harry told him. "Thank you."

Marwyn cocked his head. "Where to next?"

Harry rummaged her pocket in her plaid skirt before she pulled out the next picture, and a couple pounds. "This town. When we go there, why don't you order yourself a cup of coffee or something? My treat."

Marwyn raised his eyebrows as he accepted the muggle money and picture. "Thank you, my Lady."

Harry smiled brightly. "Yep! You're helping us out, after all. Besides, I'm told this one may be a bit tricky."

"If you need help—"

Harry shook her head. "I won't needlessly endanger you. Besides, this way is much more fun."

"Thank you for your concern, my Lady."

"Yep!"

(◡‿◡✿)

After Marwyn had dropped the duo off in Little Hangleton, Tom guided Harry through the streets. Harry followed him onto a narrow dirt track bordered by high and wild hedgerows. It led out of the town, and as the duo traversed it, Harry could hear the bustling village fade away into the background before utter silence fell upon them. The path was crooked, rocky, and potholed, sloping downhill, and it seemed to be heading for a patch of dark trees a little below them.

Despite the pretty blue, cloudless sky, the old trees ahead cast deep, dark, cold shadows, and it was a few seconds before Harry's eyes discerned the building half-hidden amongst the tangle of trunks.

The house looked in shambles, and Harry wondered if it was inhabitable. Its walls were mossy, and so many tiles had fallen off the roof that there were little pockets of holes in it that wildlife grew through. Nettles grew all around it, their tips reaching the windows—which were thick with grime.

"Be very careful with this one," warned Tom. "It's an area of effect spell like the diadem. The second you open that door, and be sure not to touch the ring, you risk falling under its spell."

"Right," whispered Harry, raising her wand and deftly using a diffindo to slice through the nettles. When she had cleared a path to the door, she hesitated a brief moment. Then, as if making up her mind, she pushed it open.

Almost immediately she felt a haze fall over her. It was as if a warm blanket was wrapped around her, and she was wearing some thick sunglasses that blocked out all the unnecessary light in the world.

She felt happy, and tingly—tingly like she usually felt when it was her and Tom. It was such a pleasant feeling. She wanted to hold it, to cup it, and treasure that feeling.

Whatever could have made her feel like this?

Her eyes rested upon the small ring that laid in the center of the ruined home.

Her chest swelled and she swayed on her feet. "Oh, my…"

"Harry?" Tom asked.

She fidgeted. A part of her didn't want to go near that ring, but the majority of her demanded that she stalk over and grab it. The ring wanted to be held, anyway. It wanted to be held by her—only her. It promised to make her always feel good.

"Harry?" asked Tom again.

She swallowed.

"Don't," Tom said severely. "Harry, look at me. Don't take another step towards the ring."

She hadn't realized she had been walking towards it.

"Don't," Tom repeated.

Oh, but she so wanted to…

"Harry," said Tom tersely, cupping her face in his hands and forcing her to meet his gaze, "do not touch the ring inside that house. Harry, please."

Harry's eyes glazed over and she yearned so desperately to waltz inside that home and pluck the ring from where it stood.

"Harry," Tom repeated, shaking her a little bit, "snap out of it. Harry, focus on me. Not the ring. Me."

Harry's eyes slowly drifted back over to meet Tom's. "Tom…?"

"Yes," whispered Tom. "Now Harry, come here. Stay close to me."

Slowly, Tom began to pull Harry away from the house. She trailed behind him, her face still held squarely in his hands. After several steps were taken, Tom then said, "Now Harry, do not turn back. I need you to summon the ring."

"Summon… the ring…" Harry trailed off. Her mind was a bit fuzzy, but she felt as if she could still grasp what he had said. It took a couple minutes of actively trying to concentrate until Harry could finally will the ring towards her.

It flew out the window and landed with a soundless thump in the palm of her hands. All at once that cloud of haziness lifted up from Harry, and she realized the position she was in. Her face flamed and she jerked out of Tom's grasp. "Th-Thank you."

"Of course," Tom said smoothly, abruptly looking away. "That's the last of it. Let's go find Marwyn and leave."

"… Right." Harry fidgeted nervously. "… Tom?"

"Yes?"

"Will… will this and the diadem be enough to… um… make you the anchor? I'm sorry we didn't find the locket."

Tom didn't answer.

(◡‿◡✿)

At long last, the O.W.L.s had arrived. After a quiet breakfast—which Harry slept through after eating—the fifth and seventh years milled around in the entrance hall while the other students went off to lessons. Then, at half-past nine, they were called forward class by class to reenter the Great Hall, which was arranged to accommodate the testing.

Professor McGonagall stood facing them all at the front. When they were all seated and had fallen quiet, she said, "You may begin."

She then turned over a huge hourglass on the desk beside her, which also had many spare quills, ink bottles, and rolls of parchment.

Harry turned over her paper, already bored out of her mind. This first exam was the theory of Charms—something she knew by heart.

"If you get stuck on something, feel free to ask me," Tom offered, smirking slightly at that. "I got perfect O's on all of my exams."

Harry resisted the urge to turn around and scowl at the smug teenager. _I don't need your help for something as simple as this!_

"Mm-hmm," he hummed, looking no less condescending than he had before.

_Go to hell._

"I'll save you a seat," he promised, parroting Harry's own response a couple years ago.

(◡‿◡✿)

"Well, that wasn't too bad, was it?" Hermione asked anxiously after the exams. "I'm not sure I did myself ice on the Cheering Charms. I ran out of time—did you put in the countercharm for hiccups? I wasn't sure whether I ought to, it felt like too much—and on question twenty-three—"

"Hermione," Draco interrupted tiredly, "I'm sure you did fine."

Hermione blushed. "I …"

"I'm sure we all kicked ass," Harry assured her. "Especially me and you."

Neville chuckled, although he still looked nervous. "Yeah…"

The fifth years ate lunch with the rest of the school (the four House tables reappeared over the lunch hour) and then trudged off into the small chamber beside the Great Hall, where they were to wait until called for their practical examination. As small groups of students were called forward in alphabetical order, those left behind muttered incantations and practiced wand movements.

When Harry's name was called, she walked into the Great Hall, idly swishing her wand.

"Professor Tofty is free, Potter," Professor Flitwick informed her. He pointed Harry toward what looked like the very oldest examiner, who was sitting behind a small table in a far corner.

"Potter, is it?" inquired Professor Tofty, consulting his notes and peering at Harry. "The famous Potter?"

Harry smiled back charmingly at him. "At your service, sir."

He returned the smile with a gentle one of his own. "Very good. Now if I could ask you to take this eggcup and make it do some cartwheels for me…"

Harry flew by her testing with ease, shooting Tom a victorious and smug look when she did so—to which he rolled his eyes and mumbled something along the lines of 'I could do it wandless.'

Harry pointedly ignored that comment.

With the testing done and over with, and after a brief, silent dinner, there was no time to relax for the majority of Harry's friends (and so, by consequence, Harry). They went straight to the common room after dinner and submerged themselves in studying for Transfiguration the next day. Although Harry fell asleep ten minutes into it, much to Hermione's ire and Neville's amusement.

Her written exam the next morning went by quickly, but easily. She was better with practical magic than theory, so she had to pause and think over a couple of the questions. But she was damn determined to do as good as Tom, and was meticulous about her answers. Her practical exam after that went by as a breeze—to which she smirked at Tom afterwards, knowing full well that he couldn't transfigure wandlessly or silently, like she did. He snorted at her and rolled his eyes.

They had their Herbology exam on Wednesday (which went by fairly slowly, as Harry didn't hold nearly as much interest in Herbology as she did in the other subjects, so she struggled a bit) and then, on Thursday, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Naturally, Harry did very well here.

Although Tom was determined to remind her that he did all his spells silently, whereas Harry could only do several.

Smug arse, Harry grouched as she finished the last of the spells Professor Tofty asked of her.

"Oh bravo!" cried Professor Tofty. "Another silent spell, very good, very good! Well, I think that's all, Potter, unless… I heard from my dear friend Tiberius Ogden, that you can produce a Patronus? For a bonus point…?"

Harry smiled smugly, already anticipating getting an above 100% on her exam—and Tom only achieved a 100%. Tom's eyes narrowed the second the professor said bonus point. She raised her wand, the tip of it already glowing a wisp white. "Expecto Patronum!"

A beautiful silver fox erupted from the end of it, dancing around the room a few times before evaporating.

"Excellent!" he cheered. "Very well, Potter, you may go."

"That is so not fair," Tom grumbled as a smirking Harry left the room.

A thought crossed Harry's mind. _ Say, Tom, what's your Patronus again?_

"A snake," he muttered.

On Friday, Hermione and Harry took their Ancient Runes exam, which Harry thought she did rather well in (considering all the practical experience she had with them). When the final exam that week was over, the two girls anticipated a small break from studying, as the weekend had finally arrived.

Harry gleefully spent the weekend playing with Titan and Porteurdemort in the forest, with Basileus dutifully watching over them.

Come Monday was the Potions exam. The written exam was a tad challenging, but nothing Harry couldn't overcome. The afternoon practical was pleasant, and Harry actually finished an entire half an hour earlier—thus giving her another bonus point, much to Tom's disbelief.

"Favoritism!" Tom exclaimed when she sauntered out of potions, radiating smugness. "That is blatant favoritism."

Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures were another two exams that Harry waltzed through on Tuesday, though she was disappointed by the rather harmless creatures they brought to the exam. Come nightfall, it was time for the practical Astronomy exam. She and her friends headed up the tower at eleven o'clock, finding it a perfect night for stargazing.

She and her friends spread out amongst the tower at the professor's orders, giving everyone some space.

Harry paused in her examinations, taking a moment to admire the beautiful night. She placed her parchment and quill down and leaned on the stone railing.

_Such a perfect night for this kind of exam…_

Tom quietly floated over to her, his shoulder brushing against her, leaning on the railing, too. "It certainly is. You know, it stormed during mine."

Harry's lips twitched upwards, and she glanced over at him. He certainly looked rather handsome in the moonlight, and maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, but Harry thought his face seemed almost… softer.

After the exam ended, her friends tiredly told her goodnight and headed to bed. Harry also curled up in her bed, whispering a goodnight to Tom, but was quick to discover she wasn't going to be getting any sleep any time soon.

She had the history exams tomorrow, the last exam. She knew she needed to sleep, as history was the bane of her existence, really, but she found that all she could keep thinking about was Tom's soft face in the moonlight.

Having said person meditating at the foot of her bed, completely relaxed and eyes closed, with a serene expression on his face certainly wasn't helping matters, either.

Moreover, being able to feel that person, also, definitely wasn't helping.

Harry couldn't help but notice that he was actually warm. He was giving off body heat at her feet, and it was so very hard to ignore his presence, especially when his face kept popping into her mind. She struggled dearly with it, trying her best to get some sleep, but she found that, ultimately, she was unable to catch a wink of sleep.

Damn. Stupid. Piece. Of. Eye. Candy.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!

It really was all his fault, a grumpy Harry thought as she marched off to her least favorite subject's exam.

The exam was in the same room as all the other theory exams. Harry sat in one of the middle rows, irritation rolling off her in dark waves. She itched to hex something, but sadly, such a thing would not be happening during this exam.

So, with great reluctance, Harry swallowed down her annoyance when the parchment was handed out and she set to work.

About halfway through the tedious exam, Harry had to struggle to stay awake. It's not like her grade would suffer horrendously if she failed her O.W.L. exam for history. Still, she could imagine Hermione's disapproving tone, and Remus's disappointed look, and that alone was enough to keep her chugging forward.

No matter how much she wanted not to.

Another thirty minutes into the exam and Harry's head hit the desk without her even knowing.

She was now, somehow, in a cathedral-sized room filled with shelves that held glass spheres in them. The room was entirely dark and black, save the spheres as they glowed an eerie white. Unable to resist, Harry found herself walking down the rows of shelves. She stopped when she reached row ninety-seven, and took a couple steps in.

A voice came from her own mouth, a high, cold voice that Harry knew, but couldn't quite place. "Take it for me… Lift it down, now… I cannot touch it… but you can…"

It was then that Harry noticed a hazy shape on the ground.

Harry's arm raised and she watched with detached interest as the wand attached to said arm pointed upon the shape before she hissed out, "Crucio."

The shape screamed and writhed in pain.

"Lord Voldemort is waiting…"

"You'll have to kill me," spat the shape, and Harry recognized that voice as belonging to Sirius.

"Undoubtedly I shall in the end," said the high-pitched voice. "But, you will fetch it for me first, Black… You think you have felt pain thus far? Think again… We have hours ahead of us and nobody to hear you scream…"

Harry jolted upright from her test, her eyes wide.

_Tom?_

"I know," Tom said grimly.

_I think it's time I looked into mastering Occlumency enough that I do it subconsciously. Think there's a rune for that?_

"I doubt it's that easy," Tom muttered. "… What are you going to do?"

_He obviously wants something there—wants me to get it for him. Narcissa hadn't mentioned anything of the like, so either few know, or… _

Tom shrugged. "Or she's useless. Doesn't matter at this point. What do you want to do about it?"

_Obviously I want to see what's there. That was the Department of Mysteries, wasn't it?_

"Clearly," said Tom.

_Then, after the exams, I'll check it out._

Tom pursed his lips. "Without help?"

_ I'll leave a note. _

"Hermione will kill you."

_ Damn it._

"But, if you brought her along, she'd be a liability," Tom said ruefully. "The only way you're going to get away with this is if you don't get caught."

_Oh?_

" have Moratorium's forces prepared to take credit," Tom dismissed. "It is taking place at the Ministry in the middle of the day. They should be taking credit."

"Fair enough," Harry admitted out loud, unable to keep the excited edge out of her voice. "Hopefully this'll be fun. Maybe they wish to duel me one on one? Or a free for all?"

Tom's lips twitched upwards in a brief smile. "You're enjoying this too much."

"Nonsense."

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry floo'ed to the Ministry directly from the Chambers, warning her darling pet that she might end up summoning him for a fight, so he should keep his eyes open. Basileus looked almost as eager as his mistress for the prospect of a new battle.

It didn't take long for Harry to find the Department of Mysteries, or to sneak into it (thanks to her invisibility cloak). When she entered the dark department, she cocked her head and glanced over at Tom. "Tom?"

"Yes, Harry?" Tom asked.

"Do you always share the same visions I have with Voldewhore?"

Tom looked surprised at her question. "Not always. I try to block them out, but sometimes when I relax my guard, I see the same visions you do. He is, after all, connected to both of us."

"Mn. After I've had my fun with them, I'll go ahead and make a lot of noise to attract the authorities."

"Naturally."

Harry paused. "… Do you have any idea where we're going?"

Tom awarded Harry with an amused look that made her tummy flip-flop. "As a matter of fact, I do."

"You always know what to do," Harry said appreciatively, her eyes softening as she smiled warmly at Tom. Tom's face froze for a second, before he abruptly avoided her gaze, cleared his throat, and turned his back to her.

"… This way," he mumbled.

He led her through long corridors, each of them as dark and confusing as the last. Harry wasn't sure how Tom could tell any of them apart—they all looked the same to her—but she didn't voice this question to him. For some reason, her tongue felt thick, and the silence between them felt… odd.

It reminded her of the atmosphere that Hermione and Draco had in between them after Pansy had left. It was heated—electrified. It felt as though any words or sounds made between the two of them would be magnified and set off a spark.

A spark that would start off a roaring forest fire.

Which was ironic, given that Harry's body felt rather warm. She wondered briefly if this was a phase she was going through—something all girls felt at one point or another. She figured it was, as if it was something serious, Moratorium would undoubtedly warn her.

It was rather bothersome, she decided.

Tom stopped short of a large door, and Harry peered around him at it. "Here."

"Okay," responded Harry, pushing the door open.

The door swung open with a loud creak. The room before them was impossibly large and dark—Harry couldn't see the end of it. It was filled to the brim with dusty shelves that held little glass spheres. Harry's wand lit up and she used it as a light as she began to walk between the shelves, counting the rows.

She stopped at ninety-seven, and glanced around. "Aw, I don't see anyone."

"This one has your name on it," Tom said, looking at one of the spheres.

Harry stood up on her tip toes and peered at it. Sure enough, covered in dust, but still legible was a nameplate right below one of the spheres. She frowned as she picked it up—

The one with the power to stop the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark her as his equal, but she will hold the key to his binding... The key who has the will, the key who was given life, and the key who holds his power shall seal his fate…

"Oh my," Harry uttered. "What was that?"

Tom's eyes widened. "That's… that's a prophecy."

"A what?"

"Something you do not need, Miss Potter."

Harry turned around slowly to find none other than Lucius Malfoy prowling towards her, dressed in black. Behind him, Harry could see two other Death Eaters. She only recognized one of them, Bellatrix.

"Oh, if that's the case then…" Harry trailed off, before she abruptly slammed it into the ground.

"What have you done?!" screeched Bellatrix.

Harry giggled, already waving her wand. "Pissing off the Dark Slut. Bombargo!"

An explosion where Bellatrix and Lucius once were shattered nearby shelves and glowing spheres. Harry was mildly disappointed her attack didn't connect with either of them—they both disappeared in a plume of black smoke before reemerging a few meters away. Harry could see many more Death Eaters slowly appearing around her.

"I will have your head!" Bellatrix snarled, then she gasped.

Harry's and Tom's eyes widened with disbelief as they stared at the long sword that stuck out from Bellatrix's chest. Bellatrix gurgled as she stared down in disbelief at the sword.

The sword then sliced neatly through her horizontally, and she fell forward. The sword made no hesitation as it then dug into her neck, straight into her spinal cord, and effectively ended her life.

Silence fell throughout the room, as the Death Eaters took in this new arrival.

Harry gaped at Efface, as he easily wiped the blood off the sword before raising his wand towards a nearby Death Eater. He intoned, in his monotone voice, "I will not allow you to harm Harry Potter. If you wish to live, I suggest you leave now."

For a few seconds, nothing happened, and then each one began to disappear in a sharp snap.

Harry tried not to feel overly disappointed at this—and disgusted with their apparent cowardice. Did they assume that because Efface was there, the rest of Moratorium's employees were right behind him, or were they simply so intimidated by him? Instead, she settled for feeling shock. "What are you doing here, Efface?"

Efface cocked his head, offering his arm to her. "My job. I will take you to the nearest floo, my Lady. I understand you do not wish to be caught."

"How do you—How did you find me?"

He did not answer.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You could have waited, you know. I was perfectly capable of taking care of them myself."

"I do not care," Efface said. "I deemed your life in danger, and I acted."

"Why are you here? Where's Marwyn?"

"Marwyn is doing his job, as I am doing my own. Please, my Lady, I would rather return you to Hogwarts soon."

Harry folded her arms across her chest, pouting. "I came here, all prepared to go on an awesome adventure and have a spectacular battle, but no. You had to ruin that."

Efface's brow furrowed. "… If you wish, I could locate some criminals, toss them in a maze with you and let you have at them."

Harry considered this. "… Okay."

"Good. Now would you please come with me?"

Harry sighed. "Oh, alright…"

(◡‿◡✿)

Harry continued to grumble in displeasure as she and Tom headed back up to the dormitory. _Complete rubbish, that is._

"You'll live," Tom snickered, seeming to take great pleasure in Harry's ire.

_That sucks, though!_

"At least you won't get in trouble," he pointed out.

Harry sighed.

"HARRIET LILY-JAMES POTTER WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Hermione screeched the second she saw Harry enter the dormitory.

"Or not," Tom said gleefully.

_Quit enjoying my misery!_

His smirk only widened in return.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

At long last this has been combined into one long year.

Actually drew a quick Tom/Harry picture because one of my friends that helped edit this for me made a passing comment along the lines of: You know, if they ever did start dating, I can see Harry being all macho and like bitch plz, you're eye candy. You sit yo' ass down like a damn princess and I'll handle this with my big beautiful snake all Gryffindor style. And Tom would be either annoyed, or go along with it because he knows she absolutely loves to fight (especially with her basilisk at her side).

It might have been the sugar high talking, but I thought it was a bit too funny to pass up. Link on profile, or ya can check my deviantART account (charredblossom16).

(*1) You idiots, bow to your Lord.

(*2) Albino, come here.

Questions I have been asked enough I've decided to address as a whole / questions I know people will ask after reading this chapter

What does Moratorium's name mean? Why did he choose that name?

Moratorium means a temporary prohibition of an activity. He chose that name to be funny. You've already seen a little bit of the inside joke, but the true reason won't reveal itself until later when Moratorium's birth is described.

Is Efface an OC? What does his name mean? Why did Moratorium choose that name?

Yes, Efface is an OC. Efface means to erase (a mark) from a surface. Moratorium was being funny (again). If you like his character well enough, I may expand more on his background in the next year. If not, he'll remain as mysterious as Marwyn.

Wait, so are Oliver and Harry together, or…?

No. For Harry it was passing crush and Oliver, a phase. Oliver was to Harriet what Cho Chang was to Harry. They're still friends, though.

I love her and Tom together! Will you make them happen?

I won't say.

How did Harry get enough money to do the things she did the first year?

What makes you think she bought half the things she now owns? You don't think she used all the blackmail she collected? Threatened people with her mercenaries, or Marwyn?

Will there be more Moratorium or Harry next year?

It'll be an equal balance.

Why aren't you updating?!

Because I have a life outside of FF and sometimes I lose interest in this story. It does happen, you know.

Why didn't Hermione turn to Dumbledore sooner? Why didn't McGonagall question where Harry was that we saw?

As you may recall, Harry has a tendency of going off on her own without telling anyone. Hermione knows that Harry can take care of herself, and she also trusts the teachers at Hogwarts to take care of Harry, should anything unsavory occur. McGonagall is also aware of Harry's tendency to ditch class. It wouldn't be so far-fetched to either of them if Harry went off on a fun adventure without telling anyone, only to show up a few days later with a sheepish smile.

But I thought people with Dissociative Identity Disorder aren't supposed to be aware of their alters...?

That's not entirely true, especially not in this case. 1.) Yes, other personalities are fully capable of being aware of the others. In most cases the 'legal' or 'main' personality isn't aware of their disorder or the other alter(s), true, but that does not mean it's never happened before. Believe it or not, I actually have taken a couple courses in psychology and this was one of my favorite disorders to study. I'm not an idiot. Do not assume I am completely ignorant and that you know everything there is to know about this disorder.

2.) And may I remind you again, that I have yet to confirm or deny if Moratorium really is another personality or if he's something more. Don't make things canon in my story in your mind. It's not canon until I explicitly say it is.

Aren't there any other magical gangs / yakuza / "evil societies"?

… Well, throughout Harry Potter I haven't found any solid proof that there ARE. In fact, I've found things that contradict such assumptions. I'm sure there are plenty of FanFiction stories that hold all sorts of mini-gangs or their own 'Dark Lords', but they aren't canon. It seems reasonable for there to be other evil-doers, sure, but at the same time it's as reasonable for there not to be.

The whole pureblood / mudblood thing can be international. Because it boils down to one thing (and this is purely in my opinion), it's superior against inferior. Everyone wants to feel special, wants to feel like they're better than someone else. It's only natural to crave such a thing, and when an obvious chance occurs to do so, for most, it can be difficult to resist. Such belief has been all over the world, not in Great Britain or China or America or Japan or… you get the drift. And the magical community is all over the world.

It seems perfectly reasonable that the prejudice of purebloods against mudbloods would be all over the world, too. And with that in mind, it seems logical that Death Eaters would be all over the world. Granted, we never saw much proof of this, but it is implied heavily (if not outright stated) that Voldemort was the world's largest threat at the time. I can only assume that any other sort of 'other threats' would have either converted to Voldemort's side (and thus began fighting their own country's Ministry on his behalf), were either too weak to do little else but hide, or were squashed by him.

They aren't even mentioned as possible allies, so I can only assume it's one of the trio above.

So, no. In this story, I'm sticking to what I perceive as canon and there are no other threats to Moratorium's power in that regard except Voldemort. And if you have an issue with that… save it. It's my story and I'm not changing what I have planned because someone starts whining.

Information Regarding MPD for those of you interested—taken from various books and websites.

Causes: Most people diagnosed with MPD were either physically or sexually abused as children. Many times when a young child is severely abused, he or she becomes so detached from reality that what is happening may seem more like a movie or television show than real life. This self-hypnotic state, called disassociation, is a defense mechanism that protects the child from feeling overwhelmingly intense emotions. Disassociation blocks off these thoughts and emotions so that the child is unaware of them. In effect, they become secrets, even from the child. According to the American Psychiatric Association, many MPD patients cannot remember much of their childhoods.

Not all children who are severely and repeatedly abused develop multiple personality disorder. However, if the abuse is repeatedly extreme and the child does not have enough time to recover emotionally, the disassociated thoughts and feelings may begin to take on lives of their own. Each cluster of thoughts tends to have a common emotional theme such as anger, sadness, or fear. Eventually, these clusters develop into full-blown personalities, each with its own memory and characteristics.

Names: The names of the alters often have a symbolic meaning. For example, Melody might be the name of a personality who expresses herself through music. Or the personality could be given the name of its function, such as "The Protector" or "The Perpetrator". The legal personality is the person with the legal name of the body, or the birth personality. This is also called the original personality and is the identity from which the first other personality split off. This may or may not be the same as the host personality. The host is the personality who has executive control of the body the greatest percentage of time. This host may have completely taken over the basic functions or daily life for a legal personality who is too overwhelmed to participate at all. Or the host might be the only one perceived by the system as being able to keep the system under control and intact.

Awareness: The awareness of one personality to the others is called "co-consciousness" and exists in varying degrees. Some may be totally unaware of the existence of the others. Some may be aware of the existence of others but not have any interaction with them.

An alter may exert its influence without ever seizing executive control. For example, if this alter is the persecutor, the patient may experience inward conflict without this alter ever presenting to the outside world. It makes itself known to the patient through threats and insults, which are heard as command hallucinations. Or the persecutor can take over the domain of motor control, perhaps telling the patient to drive off a cliff, but still has never presented themselves to the onlooker. The personality in charge at the time will describe the experience as imposed rather than willed, which can be quite confusing and disconcerting, particularly to the individual who has no idea of his or her multiplicity.

Reviews are love, darlings.