WARNING: All of those you who were looking for the changes and, for those who were bemoaning about the rewrite, it begins here. While we have retained a few elements, we have changed the original work by a majority.

The next morning, the five Slytherins entered in the Great Hall for breakfast. Unlike the usual hustle and bustle that was the norm during breakfast in the hall, there was a rather scary silence through the room. The moment he group of five stood at the entrance, several heads in the hall turned in their direction. Even the teachers were staring at them. Several occupants of the hall were pointing fingers or whispering to their friends.

"It seems like the news finally reached the Daily Prophet." Daphne drawled slowly. All of them had the newspaper in front of them or were reading it over the shoulders of the people beside them. Sometimes, she hated it when she was right. And her boyfriend's nonchalance about the situation wasn't helping.

"Look at this way." Theo said to Black, a wry smile on his face. "It's simply establishing the reputation you wanted."

"You would be right." Ares muttered back, staring at the crowd that seemed transfixed on him. He wondered if the news was really that graphic.

Without any further ado, the group of friends walked past the Ravenclaw table towards the table of green and silver, past the smirking face of Draco Malfoy and ignoring the rather smug look on Pansy Parkinson.

Taking their usual places, with Daphne sitting beside Ares on his left and Blaise on his right, Tracey and Theo occupying places opposite to them. Ares could feel the stares of the Great Hall converging on his person. There was a slight movement as Draco Malfoy casually walked up to Ares, dropping the morning issue of the Prophet right in front of him. He edged closer to Ares until he was right next to his left ear, whispering "Enjoy!" before returning to his place, a smile of victory plastered on his face.

Ares, Daphne and Blaise looked at the newspaper while Tracey and Theo borrowed a copy from the student beside them. Written on the front page, in glaringly large font, were the words:

BOY-WHO-LIVED REVEALED AS PARSELMOUTH!

SIGNS OF AN UPCOMING DARK LORD?

Hearing the latest events happening at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has left the people of Magical Britain traumatized and shocked, as their very own Boy-who-lived, our former saviour who returned to the shores of Britain after disappearing on the night of Halloween 1981, publicly revealed himself to be a Parselmouth, much to the shock and terror of the students of Hogwarts themselves. For our readers do not know understanding the meaning of this, Parselmouth is the ability of a Dark wizard to talk to snakes. You-Know-Who was the last known Dark Lord to possess it.

Harry James Potter, born to James and Lily Potter and famous for his victory against the Dark Lord You-Know-Who back in 1981, was a name known to every single resident of Magical Britain. Unfortunately, the Boy-who-lived had been kidnapped by Sirius Black, who is the son of Orion and Walburga Black - the last surviving descendant of a family notorious for dabbling with the Dark Arts. There had been rumours about Black's allegiance to the Dark Lord, although they were dismissed because of the lack of evidence. Despite the measures taken by the Ministry of Magic, our beloved saviour was never found.

And now, after fourteen years, the residents of Magical Britain are fearful. Was he really our saviour? Harry Potter - who insists on being addressed as Ares Black, blatantly disregarding the contribution of James and Lily Potter to our society - very publicly revealed himself as a Parselmouth soon after arriving at Hogwarts at the start of the school year.

Pansy Parkinson, Heiress of the Noble House of Parkinson claimed, "Black used Dark Magic to conjure a serpent, and then ordered it using Parseltongue to attack us. Many of us were traumatized; Black just stood there and laughed at our misery." Miss Parkinson's statement was seconded by Draco Lucius Malfoy, son of Wizengamot member and famous philanthropist Lucius Abraxas Malfoy.

However, even before this blatant display of Dark Magic, Ares Black had transformed into a large, black cat and pounced on Ronald Weasley, son of famous muggleborn-supporter and Ministry worker Arthur Weasley. While Arthur Weasley has refused to comment, Molly Weasley, wife of Arthur Weasley and mother of victim Ronald Weasley, has been quite vocal about Ares Black being a danger to students, and demanded the outright expulsion of Ares Black from Hogwarts. The victim, Ronald Weasley, was admitted to the Hogwarts infirmary, to heal his broken arms and bruised body, the result of the vicious attack by Ares Black in his dangerous animagus form. The chief question that remains now is whether Hogwarts School will expel Ares Black, or will the people live in fear as the next Dark lord slowly rises over Magical Britain.

"Damn! She does have a rather blatant approach in her opinions, don't you think?" Ares genially asked his girlfriend, who was outright scowling as she registered what that damnable hussy, Rita Skeeter had written about her boyfriend.

Tracey too was scowling at her copy while Theo seemed pensive at the news. Blaise seemed to be trying too hard not to laugh at the so-called newspaper, passing an amused glance towards Ares.

"This is going to have extremely huge repercussions." Daphne glanced at Ares, her lips forming a troubled frown. Frown deepening at the calm look on his face, she turned back to the newspaper, the next article on the page catching her eye. Her eyes widened at the title of the article. "What the hell?"

LUCIUS MALFOY ACCUSES ARES BLACK OF LINE THEFT

Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Wizengamot member and famous philanthropist, filed an official complaint against Ares James Black, son of Lily and James Potter, for Line Theft of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. When the Daily Prophet received reports on the complaint, we travelled to Malfoy manor in New Hampshire to ascertain the truth. Lucius Malfoy (43), Lord of the Noble House of Malfoy commented, "My son Draco Lucius is the rightful Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. My wife Narcissa Druella Malfoy nee Black, is the youngest daughter of Cygnus Black and Druella Crabbe nee Black, and the only remaining descendant of the Black family." Lord Malfoy went on to state how Sirius Orion Black, son of Orion Arcturus Black and Walburga Cedrella Black, was disinherited from the Black family back in 1976. With the rest of the Black family either dead, or in prison, (with the exception of Andromeda Tonks who was disinherited in 1972), and the death of the previous Lord Black, Arcturus Orion Black, in the year 1981, the mantle of Lord Black falls upon young Draco Lucius, the scion of Lord Lucius Malfoy, who shall inherit the estate upon his coming of-age.

Lucius Malfoy went on to say, "Whether Ares Black is misinformed or is intentionally trying to usurp my son's inheritance is uncertain. But, Ares Black has shamed my son and made a mockery of his inheritance in public. I have filed an official complaint against Ares Black and have moved for his arrest and trial to be presided by the Wizengamot. I also demand a public apology from Black to my son Draco Lucius in public, both for his vile attempt at Line Theft and the insult to my son. The degree of his transgressions will be judged by an emergency session of the Wizengamot that is to be held tomorrow."

For more information on Sirius Black and his history, visit Page 3.

For more information on Ares Black, his Houses and his parentage, visit Page 2.

For more information on the Black Family, both living and dead, visit page 4.

Daphne held the paper tightly, enough that the nails dug into it. Those…Those…Those morons. Not only do they have the gall to insult her boyfriend, his father, make him out to be a Dark Lord, and do everything short of blatantly screaming out "DARK LORD, RUN FOR YOUR SOULS", Lucius-Fucking-Malfoy accuses Ares, Heir Apparent of the House of Black, of Line Theft of said house. For a moment, she wondered if there were assassins she could hire to wipe out the Malfoy line. The thought nearly made her giggle with morbid humour.

Reading the article and watching Daphne's reactions to the article on Line Theft caused Blaise to muffle his laughter into the sleeve of his robe. He decided he was going to sit back and watch the upcoming comedy, or should he say tragedy, in the near future.

Watching her friend in distress made Tracey want to hex the ever-loving snot out of Malfoy. Only the fact that Theo was murmuring calming words in her ears kept her in her seat.

"Whenever you are ready, Black." Draco drawled out from his seat. His voice carried over the whispers of the hall. "Any time now would be good, just make sure that the apology is perfect." He smirked. "Or I might add slander and assault to the charges as well. Wouldn't want to miss anything, would we?

Theo had to physically restrain Tracey from attacking the blond. Blaise smirked at Malfoy. The rest of the hall had fallen silent at the words, waiting and watching. The teachers seemed rooted to their chairs, unable to interfere in the business of a Noble and Most Ancient House.

"Are you happy?" Daphne hissed to her boyfriend, his nonchalance driving her mad. It took everything she had not to prove Malfoy right by cursing the fool. "I knew it would create a mess."

"Then why did you support it if you already knew it would be a mess?" Tracey countered it from the opposite side at the table. Theo had his over her shoulders, holding her down.

"I didn't know it would be this big of a mess." Daphne hissed back, glaring at her friend.

"Enough!" Ares commanded. "It is under control."

Daphne had a few choice words to refute back but the stern gaze of her boyfriend stopped her midway.

"This is what I wanted. This is exactly what I wanted." Her boyfriend muttered before he stood up from the table.

"Already?" Draco laughed cruelly. "I must admit; you are rather… quick at it. Were your parents all that quick at dying when the Dark Lord came for them?"

The student body took in a collective breath at the words, several Heirs of the "Light" houses glaring at the blond, a few "Dark" houses smirking at the insult to the "Saviour". McGonagall was outright glaring at Malfoy and she stood up to berate him for the disrespect to her former students.

Shit. Daphne shut her eyes. As much as she resented the blond idiot, she wasn't ready to see his intestines dangling out, while having breakfast.

Three.

Two.

One.

"Good one, Malfoy." The hall, and McGonagall, stood in shock at Ares' words. They were expecting everything from curses flying to a fist-fight. They were not expecting a lack of vitriol from the person who the insults were directed towards.

The lack of spite in her boyfriend's voice surprised Daphne, as she opened her eyes. Malfoy was still in one piece, and his intestines weren't crawling on the floor. Armageddon had not occurred and everyone was still on their seats. Before she could ponder over the impossibility of it all, Ares spoke again.

"You know… if there is one thing that's proven about me… and Daphne here can attest to it… it's that you can always count on me to have fun."

With that enigmatic statement, Ares Black deserted the Great Hall, leaving Draco somewhat confused and staring at Daphne, who ducked to hide her flaming red face. Blaise and Theo were holding in their laughter while Tracey's cheeks pinked. The rest of the hall was stupefied.

Albus Dumbledore was having a mug of hot chocolate in his office, his phoenix familiar perched on the perch on his desk. Like most days, he preferred having breakfast in his office, except when his presence was required in the Great Hall for important feasts or giving out important notices.

Seated in the privacy of his office, he didn't have to maintain any of his masks and could drink his hot chocolate, the scent of the drink and the quiet of the morning giving him one of the few moments of peace in a rather hectic life filled with politics, enemies and Dark Lords. He didn't heed to the post owl flocking its wings, shipping the day's newspaper. Knowing the Daily Prophet, it would either be something inconsequential or more of Cornelius's blustering denials over Voldemort's resurrection. He did not want to remind himself why he let Cornelius be the Minister of Magic. Sniffing the aroma of the hot chocolate, he allowed a tiny smile to appear on his lips.

His eyes unconsciously flickered to the day's headlines, wandering over the page, absently marvelling at the useless propaganda that the Prophet had printed, and which the public ate up like apple pies, and which brought a humorous smile to his lips. Closing his eyes, he continued to sip the chocolate, the smile still playing on his lips. At an extremely slow pace, his mind finally registered what he had read, and then processed it again. He froze for a second. The thought finally coalesced in his mind and the revelation had his heart jump a beat. His eyes popped as he spewed hot chocolate onto his desk. Fawkes squawked in irritation as he flew up, vanishing in flames in an attempt to get rid of the sticky substance that had fallen over his feathers. Throwing her mug aside, he focused his eyes on the paper.

BOY-WHO-LIVED REVEALED AS PARSELMOUTH!

SIGNS OF AN UPCOMING DARK LORD?

"Damn! Damn that boy!" He cursed loudly, before snatching the paper and reading it. The more he did, the more his knuckles turned white, eyes widening in shock and surprise as his carefully laid plans were laid to dust. Harry Potter was a… beacon to be used against Tom Riddle. The prophecy ensured that Harry Potter was the best chance against Tom, and now Harry being a Parselmouth was going to…

Wait… A Parselmouth? How did Harry Potter turn out to be a-?

A theory of his flitting through his mind brought all his other thoughts to a screeching halt. A nominal theory he formed two years ago after the discovery of the Diary, his memory of the investigation of Potter Cottage on that Halloween night and later proven to be correct by dint of furious research after Tom's resurrection was now proving to be true. After realising the diary was a Horcrux, he assumed it was the anchor holding to the land of the living and his spirit must have passed on. However, his sudden resurrection the previous year had blown that theory out of the water. A month of desperate research after the event had provided a spine-chilling answer. He had spent quite some time, trying to prove himself wrong before deciding it was a fool's errand. To this day, he did not understand how anyone would be foolish enough to shred their soul to pieces, to achieve a faux-immortality that was far worse than death. Still, his current thoughts did not grant him peace.

Could… Harry Potter… truly be one of them?

Ever since he had reached the epiphany about Tom Riddle having created a horcrux as an anchor to the mortal world, he spent an extensive amount of time studying the subject. Horcruxes, were one of the very few applications of soul magic known in the modern world,a field in which he had barely dabbled in. Even for a wizard who spent over a hundred and fifty years in the pursuit of arcane arts, soul magic was… iffy, for lack of a better word, especially considering its highly esoteric roots, the number of fields involved in study of said concept and it's rather… flexible nature.

Under secrecy oaths, Albus had consulted his contacts all over the world for the last two years and despite his attempts, there was barely enough information on the subject. Many civilisations considered souls to be sacred and the gift of the gods. This had the unintended consequence of shunning studies that attempted to manipulated such. To the best of his knowledge, there were five known civilisations or families that studied the soul arts and four of them were no longer around and much of their knowledge was lost to the ages. The concept of Horcruxes, like most soul magic lore, originated in the lines of the Egyptian Pharaohs and, to his best knowledge, there was only one magical family that had access to said Egyptian lore.

The House of Black.

It is rather unfortunate that Cassiopeia Black is dead. That woman was a literal library about the Egyptian arts. Dumbledore thought with a frown.

From what little he had found, it was clear that a horcrux was a way to prevent death, although the ritual did not promise immortality. It was more of a form of insurance, something that prevented the soul from ascending to the realms beyond after the death of their physical body. The soul would remain attached to the world of the living in the form of a wraith, and could be resurrected using some extremely shady blood rituals which did not come without their own share of costs and concerns. A wizard or witch with a horcrux would, technically, have to change bodies after a time period and live on, a form of pseudo-immortality. To create a horcrux, one needed to perform a ritual that included cold-blooded murder, and while Albus understood ambition, it was more than his cup of tea. There was a reason after all, that even the Magick Moste Evile quoted: "Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction…."

It reminded him of the legend of an ancient artefact, notoriously known as the Ring of Gyges, a ring made of pure gold, and engraved with Egyptian Hieroglyphs. Supposedly, the ring was able to grant the wearer a form of cursed immortality.

He had had to refer to another tome, perhaps the most dangerous tome of all times - a book that was made of materials steeped so heavily in malicious magic that he had to touch it wearing silk gloves replaced every hour - Secrets of the Darkest Art, and it was here that he had found the steps to create a horcrux. While incredibly fascinating to the intellectual part of him, the process repulsed him severely. Even Gellert Grindelwald hadn't taken such drastic steps to ensure his own immortality, he thought with a strange frown on his face. For Tom Riddle to have possessed the disposition to create horcruxes, it must have originated from a potent combination of paranoia, an overwhelming fear of death and desperation.

There was one small problem. His research into soul magic had not turned up a single theory or even a thought about using a human being as a horcrux, since the problem of two souls residing in the same body was too… inexplicable. For one, having a human horcrux was a terrible decision, especially since the human could die, thus destroying, not just the purpose of the ritual, but also the extracted soul shard. Even if the human survived, there was no definite explanation for how the soul shard would affect the host. Would it dominate it, and if not, would the human soul be, at the very least, influenced by the soul shard? Also, there was the matter that unlike objects, a human horcrux was susceptible to the natural methods of death, thus destroying the very purpose a horcrux was made for.

His thoughts went back to the night of Halloween 1981. The night was filled with unprecedented events, and arcane, powerful magic had been at work. Magic that Albus Dumbledore had never even felt before in his long and fulfilling life. The Magical signature of two killing curses tied to Tom was very distinct, and one body on the floor of the nursery.

The lifeless body of Lily Potter and the tattered cloak of Tom himself.

The only probable theory he had had all these years was that after killing Lily Potter with the killing curse, Tom had proceeded to cast it a second time at an infant Harry. Something had reflected the killing curse back towards Tom. After much deliberation, Albus had arrived at three different possibilities.

The first was that James and Lily Potter had set a trap against Voldemort as a failsafe. Albus had studied about some shady rituals that could have provided protection by sacrifice of one's blood.

The second was that Lily Potter had achieved the same effect through other means. After all, the girl wasn't just an ordinary muggleborn. It wasn't well known, but Lily Potter had been an Unspeakable working in the Experimental Spell-work division. Could it be possible that the prodigy had come up with something powerful enough to reflect the killing curse?

The third, and possibly least viable option, was that little Harry Potter, Albus thought with a scowl, was responsible for reflecting the killing curse towards Tom, through some form of raw manipulation of magic. Albus had seen the baby Potter, and observed him carefully since his birth. While the infant did show promise of becoming a powerful wizard, there was nothing…. extraordinary about him.

However, now there were far direr concerns at hand. The more pressing concern was whether the reflected curse was powerful enough to shred Tom's own soul – a soul which had, possibly, been split multiple times by that fateful Halloween night and if a piece of Tom's soul was now inside Harry.

Retrieving his Pensieve, Albus sunk deep into his memory of that night, and just as he remembered it, the events that night was rather peculiar. For one, why was it that Lily Potter, who had fought the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange to a standstill on multiple occasions, did not have her wand on her person? It was almost as if she didn't want to use it in the first place. There was also the…. stench of blood magic in the nursery, the cradle being the epicentre of the residue.

Could it be that Lily Potter had performed obscure blood magic to protect her child against the person who killed her? Albus knew enough of rituals to understand that it was a feasible attempt. Although why a protection so powerful would allow a foreign soul shard to enter Harry Potter in the first place was impossible to fathom.

It was difficult. Very difficult. On one hand, the Parseltongue ability and the eerie similarity to Tom Riddle brought forth theories about Harry Potter being a horcrux, or at least possessing a shard, of Tom Riddle. On the other hand, his knowledge of magical theory and the esoteric arts spitefully discarded such a concept, since it made Harry Potter the last person to host a shard of Riddle's soul.

Albus let out a strangled noise out of frustration.

Then there was the Prophecy to consider. For the moment, his paranoia wanted him to consider the theory of the boy being a horcrux. While it was only a theory, it did provide some answers, but then again, it opened a whole new vault of questions.

For starters, how had the soul shard inside Harry Potter affected him? And importantly, how much control did it have over him? How much of Harry was Harry and not Tom Riddle? He recalled the recent meeting he had with the boy in his office. The casual arrogance, the confidence and the demonstration of power - It was eerily similar to Tom Riddle. Briefly, he wondered if Sirius Black knew about the horcrux, and if not, if the horcrux was now controlling Harry Potter himself. It would justify the casual demonstration of violence, and the Parseltongue ability he so easily wielded. But that brought forth another troubling question- how many horcruxes did Tom Riddle actually create to anchor himself to the mortal world?

I have got homework. A lot of homework. I need to assess if Harry Potter is indeed Riddle's horcrux, and if he is, how has the soul shard affected him…

His eyes flickered towards the newspaper, noticing the other front page article before he banged the newspaper on his table, swearing out profanely.

In front of the large iron gates leading to Hogwarts, the area was brimming with people, reporters from the Prophet, Quibbler and a variety of international news agencies. The story about the return of the Boy-who-lived to Britain and his attendance of Hogwarts had made the front page of the Daily Prophet. The Line Theft accusation on a famous celebrity, who also happened to be the Heir to a Noble and Most Ancient House in Britain, had captured the interest of several international news agencies. There was no precedent in history when a Noble House had accused a Noble and Most Ancient House of Line Theft. The Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge had called in an emergency Wizengamot session to address the issue, and Hogwarts found itself host to hordes of people trying to barge through its gates.

The students on the grounds, near the Quidditch pitch, and watching from windows from the fourth floor and above could see the commotion at the gates, as the horde of reporters and other personnel tried to get past the half-giant gamekeeper Rubeus Hagrid, who was doing all he could to keep everyone away. The commotion had attracted the attention of the other Professors who could be seen approaching the entrance hall. The students near the entrance of the castle and on the grounds went silent as the Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall walked past them, heading to the gates and the horde and noise beyond it.

Opening the gates and glaring balefully at the reporters who had redoubled their efforts to get past Hagrid upon seeing her, she spoke in a voice that drowned out the noise. "Somebody will explain to me what is happening." Her anger caused her Scottish accent to thicken. "Immediately."

While the reporters stopped pushing Hagrid, futilely, at her words, they immediately converged on her like scavengers.

"Deputy Headmistress, is it true that there is an arrest warrant against Harry Potter?" One of the men, whose robes looked near muggle, spoke in an American accent. At McGonagall's raised eyebrows, he clarified, "Kurt Clove, from The Herald."

The Transfiguration professor glared at everyone present in front of her. They had the gall to think of a fifteen-year old student, a boy who spent the last fifteen years away from his place of birth, as a criminal. It incensed her. Activating a sonorous charm around her, she said "This is Hogwarts, a school." She heavily stressed the word. "Students come here to learn about magic. No criminals attend our halls. We have received no information warranting any kind of action against Ares Black. Unless we receive an official notice from the DMLE, the matter is now closed. On my authority as Deputy Headmistress, I will have to ask you to leave-"

"That won't be necessary, Minerva."

The sudden voice distracted her, as she tried to look over the heads of the reporters. The crowd in front of her parted to allow the new arrivals walk past them. A group of three walked in the middle, flanked by six people wearing Auror robes who kept the reporters at bay.

The portly man in the middle wore an ocean-blue suit, a deep green tie, a black bowler hat, pointed black shoes and a gold pocket watch dangled from his waist. His grey hair was slightly rumpled and his expression seemed to be filled with self-importance.

To the right, was a pale-faced man with blond hair and grey eyes wearing green robes made of acromantula silk and carried a cane decorated with a snake-head motif. He walked with arrogance and controlled power in his gait.

A woman walked to the left of the portly man. She possessed stern features softened by curves, flame-red hair tied up in a bun and a monocle on her right eye. She wore a sharp blue suit and dragon-hide boots and was surrounded by an aura of confidence. However, her expression appeared to be of a person who did not like what they were tasked with.

Upon seeing the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, Lucius Malfoy and Head of the DMLE, Amelia Bones, walking between them, the reporters began firing questions at them. Bones and Lucius ignored them while Fudge simply replied with a smile. The six aurors flanking them wore frim expressions.

The newly arrived group stepped around Hagrid while the aurors moved to stand guard beside Hagrid, to prevent the reporters from rushing in.

Fudge waved at the reporters before turning towards McGonagall and said "We are here to see that justice is given out properly."

Lucius and Amelia stood in silence, the former held a cruel smile while the latter appeared pained at the words.

"What is going on, Cornelius?"

Everyone focused on the gates as Albus Dumbledore walked towards the four-member group. Ignoring the clicks and flashes of the camera, Dumbledore put his palm out and the reporters immediately silenced themselves. Fudge and Lucius appeared to be quite put out at his appearance.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet," A woman spoke out. She had curly blonde hair with a rather large glasses on her face and a garish red robe. "What are your comments on Hogwarts harbouring a criminal?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I have read the accusations printed on the Daily Prophet this morning, and there is only one thing that I would like to say. Harry Potter is no criminal, and certainly not a budding Dark Wizard. He is-"

"Do you deny that he nearly killed the youngest Weasley scion?" Another member of the press cut him off.

Dumbledore tightened his fist at the words. "Whatever happened between Mister Potter and Mister Weasley has been resolved. There is no further need to address any concerns regarding-"

"Are you talking about the same person who attacked the Slytherin students using Dark Magic?" Rita pressed. She had finally found a scoop on the Boy-Who-Lived and had no wish to miss it.

"There was no Dark Magic used at Hogwarts. Parseltongue is an ability that gets manifested-"

"I believe I can answer your questions." Fudge cut in before Dumbledore could finish his words. "Lucius here can safely address your concerns while I can talk with the Headmaster over the issues we face." The man laughed as if talking about his Christmas Party, before turning to Dumbledore. "Albus, if you please?"

Dumbledore smiled blandly. "I think we should take this to the office."

Turning towards Amelia Bones, Fudge addressed her. "Amelia, please make sure that Harry Potter stays within reach. We will need him in custody as soon as I finish discussing with Albus."

Amelia Bones forced a smile on her face. Turning to a dark-skinned auror, she said "Shacklebolt, please go with Professor McGonagall to get Mister Potter." She turned towards the old Professor, "Deputy Headmistress, if you please?"

Minerva nodded after a moment, before she swiftly spun around and walked back in, the auror following soon after. Cursing herself for being unable to do anything for her godson's child once again, she sped towards the entrance to the school.

"Ares James Black!" Daphne ranted, "are you happy with what happened? I told you not to do it, but you just had to show off back then. Didn't you?"

After breakfast, the group of friends had split up, Daphne and Ares returning to his room in their dorms. Daphne had taken to pacing the room while Ares sat cross-legged on the floor. His security snake had curled up below the bed when Ares had placed his white wand in a secure compartment in his trunk. It wouldn't do him any good if the Aurors had even more charges to pile on him.

"Daph, please stay calm. It's all under control." He countered softly, sitting in a meditative trance as he ignored the strides of his angry girlfriend.

"The press is here. The Minister and Lucius Malfoy are actively working for your arrest. They wouldn't be so confident about it all if they weren't sure. The Aurors are going to fucking arrest you!" She was outright yelling at the end.

Ares opened a single eye. "Daph, do you remember about all of this being an experiment?"

Daphne's eyes twitched dangerously. "What is this fucking experiment? Tell me. Tell me NOW!"

Ares smirked. "Just testing what happens when an overwhelming force meets an immovable object."

"What?" Daphne narrowed her eyes to the point that they were almost slits. She hated it when her boyfriend spoke in riddles. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

Ares chuckled. "You will see."

"But Ares, Lucius Malfoy is claiming line theft against you. They wouldn't dare it until they were sure they had some grounds…"

"The grounds are that the moron of a Minister believes in every word Lucius utters. And that Lucius believes the information to be true."

"What do yo-"

"Have you heard of the Selective Attention experiment? The muggles are very good at this kind of-" Ares lectured, ignoring the fact that his girlfriend was resembling a fire-breathing dragon with every passing second.

A knock on the door interrupted his explanation.

"Come in." Ares replied calmly. All of Daphne's words were stuck in her throat as she recognised the people who entered the door. One of them was an auror.

Professor McGonagall and Auror Shacklebolt stood in the entrance.

"How may I help you, Professor?" Ares asked cheerfully.

"Mister... Black, Auror Shacklebolt is here to… to take you in custody." The usually stern Headmistress replied in a broken voice. "Please follow him out."

"Oh." Ares answered. "Do you mind if I take a minute? I have an unfinished business." He got up from the floor and pulled out an envelope from his robes. Handing the envelope to Daphne, he muttered. "You know what to do with it."

Daphne fought against the tear threatening to fall from her left eye, as she nodded, before turning to glare at the Auror balefully. "Ares is innocent."

"I am only following orders, Miss." Shacklebolt answered. Turning to Ares, he replied, "I knew your fathers… both of them. It might not matter, but… I believe in you."

"Thank you." Ares smiled.

"I was a rookie when Sirius Black was promoted to a Senior Auror position. I learnt a lot from him back then, and I cannot see his… son doing something so… disgraceful as Line theft." Kingsley said, a soothing smile on his face

Ares smiled again. "You have wonderful instincts, Auror…?"

"Shacklebolt. Kingsley Shacklebolt." The man helped. "If that is the case, why are you….?" The question remained unasked as Ares gave him a lop-sided grin.

"Everything will be revealed in due time, Auror Shacklebolt." Turning to Daphne, Ares moved closer to her until his lips were touching her ear. "Always remember, Ares Black always has a plan."

He turned back to face the Auror. "I am ready."

It had been an hour since Ares Black, or as the rest of Britain knew him, Harry Potter, was publicly arrested and taken into DMLE custody. Despite the litany of attempts on the Headmaster's part to prevent the outcome, the Minister had refused to rescind the order. Fudge told him, in no uncertain terms, that the boy would be placed under arrest, and had asked Amelia Bones to do it herself. The stern-looking woman did not speak a single word as she had placed magic-restraining handcuffs on Ares, before side-along apparating him to the DMLE. Surprising them all, Ares had been calm and composed through the ordeal. Rather than being arrested, he acted like he would receiving an Order of Merlin at the Ministry, an attitude than angered Fudge and Lucius and brought a quick smile and questioning glance on the face of the stern DMLE Head.

Tracey and Theodore, holding hands, walked across Slytherin common room, ignoring the taunts and kissy-faces that Malfoy was directing towards them. The rest of the common room stayed silent at the display.

Before Ares had entered the castle, Malfoy held the dominant position inside Slytherin House. Upon the first day of school, Ares had soundly brought down Malfoy from his position of power, causing a massive power shift within the House and humiliating Malfoy. Now, Malfoy looked like a kid with his favourite presents on Christmas as the news of Ares' arrest spread across the castle.

Reaching the fifth-year dorms, the couple entered Daphne's room and found her lying face down on the bed.

The space expansion charm on the room and various transfigurations and wards present were stabilised using a Futhark rune cluster. A large bed occupied the wall on the right, while a couch, two chairs and a coffee table occupied space near the left wall. Two study desks and desk-chairs stood beside each other on the wall opposite the door. A bag on the right desk while parchment, quills, ink bottles and three books filled were arranged on the desks.

Tracey sat down on the bed beside Daphne and caressed her hair, as Theo occupied a position on the couch. Blaise was already present in the room, sitting in the chair beside Theo and reading an article from Transfiguration Weekly.

"She's been like that since they took him away." Blaise commented offhandedly without looking at the other two. "She is convinced that her Slytherin boyfriend has acted like a Gryffindor and gotten outwitted."

"But… why did Ares do like that? I mean… we all know that Sirius Black was disinherited from the family by his mother in 1976. It was a rather big news back then, and she had named Narcissa Black's unborn child as the Black Heir." Tracey mumbled. "When Daphne told us that he was the Black heir, we thought…"

"Ares is the Black heir." Blaise commented, the magazine he held hiding his expression from view.

"Then why would-" Tracey retorted confusedly but Theo cut her midway.

"I think Black is playing Lucius Malfoy, if-" His eyes glanced towards Blaise, "-Ares is truly the Black heir."

"Okay, Zabini. Spill out." Daphne demanded. She had turned around upon hearing Blaise' comment about Ares and was glaring at him, twin fires replacing her eyes.

Blaise smirked as he placed his magazine on the table. "You forget that my family has holdings in Bulgaria. Almost anyone of importance there knows the Lord Black. Sirius Black is the Lord Black, regardless of what Malfoy would like everyone to believe."

"Wait… what?" Tracey demanded. This was news to her, especially since it was the very thing at the heart of the arrest and had her best friend close to tears. "So why didn't Ares just-you know, prove his innocence?"

Theo snorted in realisation. "That bastard!" Seeing Daphne and Tracey direct indignant stares towards him, he cracked again. "He is playing them for fools. The Wizengamot is in for a rude awakening tomorrow."

More Staring.

"Okay." Theo leaned forward, arms braced on the coffee table. "Remember what he said to Malfoy earlier in the Great Hall?"

"That he can be trusted to…. have fun." Tracey repeated. Thinking through the words, the realisation finally dawned on her. "You mean… he is… waiting?"

"Laying a trap, more like." Blaise answered for Theo. "I can expect a couple of fun-filled weeks." Giving them one last smirk, he picked up his magazine and went back to his reading.

Theo sat back in thought while Tracey stared at her best friend who looked like she would like nothing better than to tear her boyfriend limb from limb.

The DMLE prison was remarkably neat – Well… compared to what Sirius had told him about Azkaban. The cell was rather spacious, with a single rickety wooden chair and a bed for a prisoner to sleep on. Then again, sleeping in a prison cell had been the last thing he had planned to do when he decided to be a part of his father's prank and return to Great Britain.

I am so getting Padfoot to buy me new toys for this.

When he had arrived at Hogwarts, he had left the entirety of his… collection at home. The only thing that he had brought with him was his bottomless mokeskin pouch which held his trunk and several trinkets alongside his broom – a Firebolt, an international Quidditch standard broom. His life with Sirius had been a wild Nargle chase most of the time, visiting new places, meeting new people, exploring legends and collecting artefacts and odd trinkets. Even his pet adder Scylla was left at the Manor, since Padfoot was uncertain if Scylla would be able to survive the fear-driven population of Wizarding Britain.

Idiotic morons. Sometimes, he wondered if the witches and wizards of Britain lost their brains since the Statute of Secrecy was established. Or did they lose it after the fall of Avalon itself…?

Back to the plan. A ridiculous idea that had germinated in Prank Lord Padfoot's mind when they had received notification about Ares having to return to Hogwarts for finishing his OWLS and NEWTS, a mandatory requirement needed to ascend to his seat at the Wizengamot. And the plan had been revealed during the week before he came to Hogwarts

"Run it by me again. Why I need to go to Hogwarts? I can study by myself and take the OWL's from the Ministry directly, can't I?" Ares asked petulantly, pouting at his father.

"Harry…" Heaving a sigh, Sirius sat in front of him.

Father and son were seated on the loveseat in the living room. The living room was flanked by a large floor-to-ceiling window occupying an entire wall, overlooking the garden in front of the manor. The walls were painted in an azure blue with black accents and the ceiling was a peach white with an elaborate crystal chandelier lit with color-changing charms. A large coffee table occupied the centre of the room with a large sofa facing the window and two loveseats on either side of the table. The fireplace roared in the corner to keep out the chilly Bulgarian weather.

Sirius leaned back onto the arm of the loveseat and clasped his hands in his lap. "Ten years ago, you could do that. But with the recent laws of the Ministry, it is paramount that you should take them at Hogwarts. I think Dumbledore framed this law in order to get you back to Britain; especially since no other Ancient House lives abroad."

"Well, he has succeeded then!" Ares complained, a frown marring his face.

"Yes he has." Sirius smirked. Ares knew that smirk. It would always appear when his father was about to play an elaborate prank on some unsuspecting victim. "But, now that you are forced to return, we shall do what we have always have done."

"Tumble the chess board and own the game?" Ares asked cheekily, his own version of the smirk rising on his face.

"Exactly." Sirius smiled internally at his son's quick wit. "By the time we will be done with them, they will be wishing that they had left the Marauders alone!" Sirius ruffled his son's hair. "Also, your dad and I have so many memories of Hogwarts. It would be unfair to his memory if his son would not enjoy at least some years at Hogwarts." His expression turned serious. "And then there is your heritage to consider."

Ares leaned forward, a frown on his face. "Dad's puzzle?" A few years ago, Sirius had explained everything surrounding the death of his parents, including the clue left by his birth father. While he and Sirius had put together all their skills and resources, they could not make heads or tails of the clue.

Sirius nodded. "Do you have your things ready?"

Leaning back, his elbow on the arm of the seat, Ares nodded. "Trunk packed, check. Satchel and moleskin pouch taken, check. Mirror and emergency portkey, check. My wand and holster, check. Dad's wand and holster, check. Yes, everything's ready."

Sirius smiled at Ares. "Good boy. Now let's go off for an early sleep. You have a big day tomorrow."

Ares grumbled for a moment before he turned away to go to his room, only that he stopped on his third step. Turning around, he said "Pad?"

"Yes?" Sirius replied.

"Why are you truly sending me there?" Ares' gaze was shrewd.

"What do you mean I am-we just discussed every-" Sirius tried to defend, but Ares could see it was a half-hearted attempt. It was just like Padfoot to reveal half-truths to him and then let him try to figure out the entire plot.

"I cannot take my position at the Wizengamot, but that doesn't mean that I won't ascend to my Lordships. I already hold the Potter and Slytherin Headship and can ascend as soon as I master the Family Magics, and you know that."

Sirius tried to defend but Ares continued, not letting his father get a word in. "Also, even if I do not have the authority to sit there, I can as easily appoint you as the regent for the Potter and Slytherin seats. The restriction doesn't apply to you."

"You would never be able to sit on the Wizengamot in that case, Ares." Sirius countered.

"Wrong! The Law says that a Lord cannot take his seat at the Wizengamot if he does not pass his OWL's and NEWT's from Hogwarts. If I appoint you as the regent for Potter and Slytherin seats and you, in turn, appoint Me as your proxy; Technically, I will be proxy for the Potter, Black and Slytherin seats at the Wizengamot. A Lord is bound by the requirements. A proxy is not, save the minimum age requirement which is fifteen. I turned fifteen the last month." Ares declared.

Sirius stood still for a moment before he guffawed. "You are so like my own grandfather."

"So tell me, Father…" Ares drawled, a hint of irritation in his voice. "Why were you pretending to send me to Britain on those points?"

Sirius sighed. "Because it is time for payback." He walked up to his son and ruffled his hairs. "I don't want you to live a hermit's life, away from your motherland. However, your abilities and your… Family magic will be seen through a tinted lens back there. The Potters and Blacks have investments, alliances and businesses in Britain. We need to get back what it ours, and if they don't let us, we snatch it."

"Marauder's honour." Ares commented cheekily.

"Cheeky brat." Sirius grinned. "You know that Voldemort and Dumbledore wouldn't give you and me a single moment of peace should we return nicely. So… we prank them."

Ares raised an eyebrow.

Sirius adopted a look of mock-disappointment. "What? Where is your sense of adventure?"

Adventure, My Balls. Ares swore internally. Daphne would probably kill him, and then resurrect him, only to hex him six ways to Sunday and back, when he revealed to her that all of this was a part of a prank… An extremely elaborate prank. Actually… he might be better off in Azkaban once Daphne learnt the truth.

"The Malfoys head the Dark faction, while Dumbledore controls the Light. Most of the neutrals just sway in the direction of the wind. The Minister… let's just call him an opportunist and leave it to that."

"And….?" Ares asked, a glint in his eye that meant business.

"I think it is time we take the mantle for ourselves." Sirius declared. "Shake things up a bit. Make sure that Lucius goes to Azkaban like his buddies. Dumbledore gets bald, and Voldemort returns back to being dead."

"And you are going to do that by…." Ares let Sirius complete the sentence

Sirius grinned. "We play a prank."

"Right." Ares drawled. There were days where he wondered if all Blacks were insane. Then again, it would be hypocritical of him to say such words.

Sirius directed Ares towards the couch. Once they were seated, he began explaining his plan.

Everything had gone just as planned so far. Now only if the final execution happened without any errors….

The sudden rattling of the doors to his cell broke him out of his reverie. Getting up from the bed he was lying on, he stared at the door. He found one of the aurors he had seen at Hogwarts bending down to place a plate on the floor.

"Eat." The man snarled, pushing the plate towards him. The plate slid all the way towards Ares, hitting his robes. They had let him wear his school robes.

"This… is all?" Ares drawled, glancing down at the unpalatable meal in front of him. It was a pity that even in a world that was run on magic, the law enforcement couldn't provide quality food.

"Be grateful that you are getting this, dark wizard," The man sneered.

"What's your name?" Ares asked. How many This was his third meeting with a bigot is as many days. Thoughts of training with his tutors passed through his mind. He was so going to kill Dumbledore for forcing him to come to this country.

"Why?" The man's sneer grew more pronounced. He walked two feet into the cell. "Going to complain to your daddy? Oh I forgot, your daddy is dead, and you live with a kidnapper."

A dark shadow flickered over Ares as he digested that comment. "Well, kidnapper or not, I'm sure that he will certainly want to meet someone who holds such a… high appreciation for him."

The man sneered and was about to refute back when a stern but bubbly voice interrupted him. "Leave him Dawlish. You have no right to torment him."

The second auror to enter the cell was a rather young woman who looked to be in her twenties. She wore an auror's robe over what looked to be a pink T-shirt and ripped jeans. Even in the dim light of the cell, Ares could see the black hair and the slightly aristocratic features as the woman walked towards him.

"Of course, Rookie. You would know him, after all. What with your mother and-" The man – Dawlish, Ares corrected mentally - sneered at the female only to find a wand aimed right between his eyes.

"Highest take down rate at the Auror Academy in ten years, and a protégé of Master Auror Moody. If you do not wish to taste a hex from my wand, get out of here." She hissed.

"Know your betters, Tonks." Dawlish sneered, but only found the wand pressing further, the tip causing a slight burn. Without any further comment, he decided to get away with whatever dignity he had left.

The moment Dawlish stepped out of the room, Tonks lost her tense pose and sighed. Casting a privacy ward all around them, she turned towards Ares. "Sorry about that. Don't mind him. He doesn't know any better." Her voice was sincerely apologetic.

"Tonks." Ares whispered. Gazing at the auror's eyes, he asked "Any relation to Andromeda Tonks nee Black?"

"My mother." Tonks whispered. "She was-"

"My father's favourite cousin, I know. He told me." Ares answered. "I didn't think we would be meeting under such circumstances, but well… thank you for your efforts."

"It was nothing." Tonks clarified with a flourish. The stern wands-on auror had vanished and a rather bubbly woman had taken her place. "You are Harry Potter, right?"

Ares nodded in affirmation.

"My mother told me about how cousin Sirius took you away. We actually have met before, when you were a baby. I have a photo of us together at my house. You were a toddler back then." Tonks giggled at the picture she remembered.

Ah. She does look a bit like Bellatrix when she was younger. Ares smiled at her. "Well, nice to meet you… uhm, do you have a first name, Tonks?"

Tonks hesitated for a moment. "Nymphadora. Nymphadora Tonks, but I don't like people calling me by my first name."

Hearing a note of pain from his words, Ares decided not to say anything about it. "Tonks it is, then!" He declared.

Tonks grinned at the young man she had not seen in fourteen years.

The Wizengamot chamber predates the Ministry of Magic and has been in use since the days of the Wizard's Council established after the fall of Avalon. Legends of the time state that after King Arthur fell to the blade of his illegitimate son, Mordred, Emrys had sacrificed his life to secure Avalon in another dimension while the Wizengamot chamber was created by his last miracle to stand as a monument to the Knight's Round Table established by King Arthur.

Established two hundred years after the fall of Avalon, the Wizard's Council was made up of the oldest and most powerful magical families of Albion to govern the magical population and to protect themselves from the predations of so called witch-hunters and the slowly rising religion of Christianity that was replacing the worship of nature and spirits. The Council used the chamber as their court, assembly and parliament.

As the centuries passed, other families were elevated to the ranks of the Wizengamot and the area around the chamber was built up as the needs of the magicals grew. As a muggle city began to grow around the area, the Council knew that they needed to be hidden, especially since the Inquisition was quickly gaining power and witches and wizards were being put to the torches. In perhaps the greatest act of co-operation between families, all the members of the Wizengamot called on their Family Magics to help them in their task. The Magics responded by burying the Wizengamot chamber and all related facilities, including the newly minted Department of Mysteries, deep below the ground and creating some of the greatest wards in the history of magic and removing the memory of the event from all non-magicals who witnessed the event.

Now safe from the muggles, they realised they needed to consolidate and restructure their government to suit the coming days. As the decades passed and the Council grew in size and power, so too did the Wizengamot. The chamber became the heart of government, the place where the fate of the country and its population was decided by the elite.

After the Statute of Secrecy was passed by the ICW, the Council realised the current government was too inefficient to keep up with the demands of time. So, in 1707, the Wizard's Council disbanded and the Ministry of Magic was formed, the Wizengamot still at the core of government. Since the creation of the Ministry, the Wizengamot was become a sacred seat of government, the most secure place in the Ministry and the greatest monument to the survival of the magical government of Britain.

The chamber itself was a beautiful piece of architecture. It was a domed circular chamber made to resemble the legendary Round Table of King Arthur. The entire room was made of a glossy stone material that had never been replicated and barely understood by the top experts of the DOM. The chamber had seats arranged around the room in concentric circular tiers, of which there were six; The sixth, and upper, tier was the public tier, open to all. There were no seats on this tier; The fifth tier was reserved for press, Ministry officials, family and retainers of the Wizengamot members with benches provided for seating. The fourth tier, with its chairs of silver upholstery, held the seats of the Order of Merlin recipients and Heads of the various departments of the Ministry of magic. The third tier, with its seats of gold upholstery, was reserved for the Noble Houses and their advisors. The second tier, with seats made of black wood and purple upholstery, was reserved for the Lords of Noble and Ancient Houses and Noble and Most Ancient Houses and an advisor to each. The first and lowest tier was the podium that held the seat of the Chief Warlock alongside the Wizengamot Scribe and the Chief Clerk of the Wizengamot; They held zero votes; Three seats beside the Chief Warlock's podium were reserved for the Minister of Magic, Head of the DMLE and the Head of the DOM. The tiers were elevated from the ground by a good seven feet. A high-backed metallic chair stood on an elevated stone platform in the middle of the chamber. There were several doors behind the tiers which led to private meeting rooms and public exits. The three doors below the tiers led to parts unknown.

All seats of the Wizengamot, except the seat of the DOM, were currently occupied and the six and fifth tiers were packed with the public and reporters respectively. An elderly man wearing robes of aquiline blue, a sharp contrast to the plum robes of the rest of the Wizengamot members, walked onto the podium of the chamber. The moment he stood over the Chief Warlock's chair, all the Wizengamot members stood up in respect. The old man took his seat - the members imitating him swiftly after.

The man, still seated, intoned loudly. "Close the doors. As Chief Warlock, I, Tiberius Nathaniel Odgen, call this emergency session of the Wizengamot to order."

The doors of the Wizengamot closed with a great noisy sound, as the ambient magic inside the room slowly permeated the entire chamber. The enchantment made sure that no wands could be drawn by the occupants of the chamber unless permission was given by the Chief Warlock. All the members shuddered slightly as the magic took hold.

The Chief Warlock, Odgen, turned to the grey haired clerk and said "Chief Clerk, call the Order of Business for the session."

The clerk, Albert Dullard, stood up, from his seat and, in a strong voice, replied "Yes, Chief Warlock." Picking up the sealed parchment on his desk, he broke the seal, opened the parchment and said "Today's Order of Business consists of a single agenda. The agenda is the "Accusation of Line Theft against Ares James Black, Scion of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter, for trying to usurp the Line of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. The complainant is Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy of the Noble House of Malfoy. The trial is to be presided by the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Oswald Fudge." Finishing his statement, Martin sat down.

Turning to the Minister, Odgen stated "The floor is yours, Minister."

Minister Fudge stood up from his seat. "Bring in the accused."

Following his orders, a set of doors on the ground floor opened with a loud sound, announcing the entry of the accused, Ares Black, along with a group of four Aurors, two in front of Ares and two at his back, walked into the chamber. Ares's hands cuffed with magical restraints and he was still wearing his school robes. Two of the aurors stood at the edge of the platform, while the other two led Ares to the chair in the middle of the chair. Tonks, one of the aurors accompanying him, removed his restraints so that he could walk ahead and sit in the chair. The moment he did so, chains sprang up out of the chair as they bound his arms to the chair tightly, enforcing magical restraints on him. Tonks and the other auror stood to either side of him.

The years of political education at the knee of his father and the lessons taught by the journals of Arcturus Black had widened his knowledge on politics, law and tradition. As such, he immediately knew that several procedures were not being followed and traditions were being ignored. He was accused of a crime and not yet proven to be guilty of said crime. Then, there were the entitlements and rights for a Scion of a Noble and Most Ancient House that seemed to have been conveniently forgotten by this auspicious body. But this was not the time to quibble over such things or lay his cards. He looked up and gazed at the body in front of him.

There were around seventy of them, all, as far as he could see, wearing plum-colored robes and hats with an elaborately worked silver 'W' on the left-hand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at him, some with very austere expressions, and others in open curiosity.

In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. The portly man was wearing the traditional Wizengamot hat and looked almost gleeful to be there. Amelia Bones sat to his left. On Fudge's right was another witch, but she was sitting so far back that her face was obscured in shadow.

"Very well," said Fudge. "Let us begin the trial of Ares James Black. Are you ready?" he called down the row.

"Yes, sir," said an eager voice from the front bench. It was the court scribe, a rather young red-haired boy who sat ready with auto-recording quill over a long piece of parchment.

"Disciplinary hearing of the sixth of September," said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began the recording. "into offenses committed under the Decree for the Line Theft, offenses committed under the Decree of usage of Dark Magic, and offenses committed under the Decree of Criminal Listings by Ares James Black, former resident of Godric's Hollow." He paused for a moment. "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-"

"Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said a quiet voice from behind Ares who turned his head so fast, he felt the bones in his neck crack.

Dumbledore was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnight-blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Ares and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose.

Okay. I didn't see that one come in. What is the old man playing at?

"With all respects to Professor Dumbledore, and no offence intended," Ares declared, much to Dumbledore's own surprise, as well as the Minister, who looked torn between surprise and glee. "I would like to defend myself." He turned towards Dumbledore. "As much as your help is appreciated, it is un-necessary."

"My boy-" Dumbledore tried to reason with Harry, knowing the Wizengamot would tear him apart.

"The boy has stated his intentions clearly, Dumbledore." Fudge jumped in, his face wild with glee at the prospect. "You should stop trying to save him, Albus. Clearly, he thinks himself superior to his betters." The Minister cleared his throat. "Now, there are three records of accusation against Harry James Potter. Accusation of line theft of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black – complaint lodged by Lord Lucius Malfoy, guardian of Draco Lucius Malfoy, rightful heir to the Black Lordship. The second offense is usage of Dark Magic, precisely Parseltongue, in the presence of sensitive audience with intent to harm them. The third offence is the unprovoked assault against one Ronald Weasley. How do you plead?"

"Not Guilty." Ares smiled at the Minister, a strange serene expression that wiped the happiness from the Minister's face. "As my own defendant, I would like to clarify a point before the Wizengamot. It is clear that since I am being held for trial before the entire Wizengamot, I am being treated as an adult. Am I correct?"

"You are no adult." The woman to Fudge's right spoke up. She wore pink robes and had a rather uncanny resemblance to a toad and had a rather… sickeningly sweet voice. "You are only a boy…"

"I am sorry?" Ares demanded, his tone containing a hint of anger. "I believe that according to Article 91, Sub-section 6 of the Wizengamot Charter, only an adult can be tried on the Chair of Ekrizdis, to be testified in open court."

Several whispers ran among the Wizengamot members at the mention of Ekrizdis, the Dark Lord who was responsible for the creation of the island of Azkaban and the creation of Dementors in the first place. The chair had stood as his throne in the Tower of Azkaban. After his defeat, the Wizard's Council of the time moved his throne from the Tower to the Wizengamot and it was decreed that the chair would forevermore be used to try the guilty and punish them for their transgressions. This was to provide a strong statement that all those who assume the position of a Dark Lord would be tried and executed under the authority of the Wizengamot. While the chair has remained in place for nearly four centuries, the history behind it has been forgotten by the public with the passage of time. Only members of the Wizengamot and a few historians and books possess knowledge of it.

"Ho- How do you know that?" Fudge stammered.

"I read… Minister." Ares drawled. "Regardless of my… competence as a would-be member of this session in the near future, we will return to that question. Am I, or am I not, being treated as an adult in this court?"

"You are, Mister Potter." Amelia Bones answered, her no-nonsense tone being very distinct. No one, not even the Minister countered her statement.

"Let the record reflect that I recognize The Head of the DMLE stating me as an adult on trial." Ares's words rang through the entire room. "As an adult, I, Harry James Potter, Head of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter, declare my actions against one Ronald Weasley as my reaction against slander of my family and those under my families' protection. This I swear on the magics of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. As I have sworn, so mote it be."

The chains on the chair shook powerfully but they were unable to contain the immensely powerful wave of magic that radiated out of Ares's body right after he made that statement, as furious whispering erupted among the audience.

"If the court shall deem it worthy, I shall prove that I do, in fact, still have my Potter Family Magic and thus, I was speaking the truth." Ares said

"Remove the chains, Minister." Augusta Longbottom, the stern-faced Regent for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom, spoke from second tier. "We insist."

"Seconded." This time, it was Lord Jonathan Greengrass of the Noble and Ancient House of Greengrass who flashed a little smile at Ares. Ares nodded in return with a smile of his own.

"Unseal the chains." Fudge almost growled, as the chains retreated into the chair, allowing Ares to stand up. Flexing his hands, he intoned "Familius Magicus Corporis."

Instantly, a wave of golden energy flooded out from him before it condensed into a silvery gryffin that roared out in pride.

The Potter family totem. Dumbledore observed from the side, but did not comment. He hadn't realised that the boy had planned something… Then again, he did not know Ares Black.

"I suppose that is fair proof." Lady Augusta remarked, her lips twitching in humour. She knew what the boy was doing and was waiting for Malfoy's comeuppance. "The Family magic has judged Harry Potter as truthful."

"Seconded." Surprisingly, the person to do so was Edward Nott, Lord of the Noble and Ancient House of Nott. Ares raised an eyebrow at the unexpected development but said nothing.

"Does that mean that the record against the Decree of Criminal Listings will be cleared off from my name?" Ares asked, staring at the Minister who looked like he had swallowed a lemon.

"I will personally see to it, Mister Potter." Amelia Bones replied. A note of humour and relief could be heard in her voice.

"Thank you, Lady Bones." Ares thanked her, making sure to display his gratitude to the lady of a Noble and Ancient House, and not just the Director of the DMLE. A few of the other Lords noted the surprisingly subtle political move from the young Potter Heir but said nothing.

Lucius Malfoy, who sat beside his wife Narcissa on the Malfoy seat on the second tier, nudged his wife. "Are you sure that your aunt Walburga had made the declaration, considering every single legal ramification?"

"Why would you doubt her? She made the declaration ironclad." Narcissa retorted back, her eyes never leaving the irritant standing on the floor who, despite being the accused, was playing the Wizengamot like a harp.

"Then why do I think that out of everyone present, Potter is the only person who wants to be here?" Lucius near-snarled in cold fury.

Down there on the floor, Ares gave out one of his patented fake smiles. "Now that that's settled, we will move to the next item on the record. My use of Parseltongue."

"Dark magic." Dawlish commented from the edge of the platform.

"Thank you for your expertise, Auror Dawlish," Ares said, a sketching a mock bow towards the auror who sneered back.

Turning back to face the members, he said "Parseltongue is a magical language that manifests in few bloodlines across the world. It allows the user to talk in the language of snakes and provides a certain level of dominance over them. Despite Voldemort-" He mentally chuckled at the number of flinches across the room. "speaking the language of the serpents, it is primarily used in the field of healing. Now, unless Minister Fudge has declared Parseltongue as Dark Magic under the Wizengamot Charter when I wasn't looking…?" Ares looked at Fudge with a questioning glance.

A few chuckles ushered in the courtroom. Fudge and the toad-like woman besides him were gnashing their teeth.

"I would also like to point out that despite being held on trial as an adult, I was given no legal representation. Let the Wizengamot note that as a crime committed against a Scion of a Noble and Ancient House."

Whispers exploded around the assembly.

"You had Dumbledore as your legal representation." Fudge barked, his face red with embarrassment. He knew that if the boy began using the laws that governed the Ancient Houses, he was done for. "You rejected him."

Ares smiled like a predator. The expression sent a chill down the spine of several members, including Fudge. "Albus Dumbledore is many things, but a legal solicitor well-versed in Wizengamot law, he is not. And contrary to what you would want the auspicious body to believe, I did not get any choice or opportunity to choose a legal solicitor to address my case in court."

Fudge seemed like he was about to pee.

"Hem-hem!" The toad-like woman spoke again. "Mister Potter. You are suffering under the delusion that you can tell the Wizengamot what to do."

"Of course not," Ares countered. He was getting irritated with them repeatedly calling him 'Harry' or 'Potter'. "I am simply stating my case."

Fudge began speaking before the boy could do any more damage to the case. "It is time that we address the main issue that has brought us here. The accusation of Line Theft, submitted by Lord Lucius Malfoy on Harry James Potter." He turned towards the court-scribe - something Weasley - who got up to forward a legal document to the Minister who held it like a trophy. "This document submitted by Walburga Cedrella Black disinherits one Sirius Orion Black from the Black Family and appoints the first male scion of Narcissa Malfoy Nee Black, one Draco Lucius Malfoy, as the Heir Apparent of the House of Black upon his coming of age. Signed by Walburga Black and Orion Arcturus Black, the Acting Lord Black on May 23, 1977."

Fudge looked positively gleeful once again, as he clapped his hands. "I intend to get this done quickly, so should we put it to a vote?"

"One minute, Minister Fudge," Ares interrupted, "Let it be on record that the esteemed Minister of Magic wants the session done quickly, rather than met out justice to a Scion of a Noble and Ancient house."

Regardless to say, the glares from the Lords made Fudge look away in embarrassment.

Ares continued. "As we have proved my status as an adult for the course of this… trial, I would like to prove my innocence once again, by calling for the Manager of the Black Records at Gringotts."

"Goblins are not allowed to testify in the Wizengamot." The toad-woman countered loudly.

"Oh, I know that very well Madame. I only wish for the court to demand the Black records from Gringotts - specifically, the Last Will and Testament of one Arcturus Sirius Black, the previous Lord Black. According to Paragraph 3 from Article 32 of the Wizengamot Charter, the accused has every right to demand financial records to prove his innocence."

Mutterings began throughout the hall, as Lucius and Narcissa blanched at the words. Fudge lost all color while Dumbledore's eyes narrowed.

"The Wizengamot recognizes Dirk Creswell, the Head of Goblin Liaison Office." The Chief Clerk spoke up.

In the fourth tier, the Department Head stood up and drew his wand, muttering some obscure incantations as a large folder appeared on the desk of the Chief Clerk, who opened the folder to extract the desired document.

"The Last Will and Testament of Lord Arcturus Orion Black, the forty-sixth Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black." He paused for a moment, as a ripple of shocks pervaded among the audience. "I, Arcturus Orion Black, of sound mind and body, declare Sirius Orion Black as my rightful successor and Lord to the House of Black and related estates. This Will, signed on 27th of November, 1979, is my Last Will and Testament and nullifies all Wills and Testaments declared prior to this one." The clerk paused for a moment, "Signed, Lord Arcturus Orion Black."

Pandemonium reigned across the chamber. Fudge was sweating buckets at the words. He knew he was done for. He had brought the rightful Heir Apparent on trial without investigation. The Ancient Houses would tear him apart. This was all the fault of Lucius. He told him that his son was the rightful Heir. If he was going down, he was going to take down a few people with him.

"Order." The Chief Warlock waved his wand to produce a loud cannon-like sound, attracting everybody's attention and silencing them. "The Last Will and Testament of the actual Lord Black neutralizes the one made by the Acting Lord Black. Is there any further notice by the Acting Lord subsequent to the Will signed in 1979?"

"No, Chief Warlock." The Chief Clerk, Albert Dullard, stated plainly.

"In that situation, the document provided in favour for one Draco Lucius Malfoy as the Heir to the House of Black is declared invalid. Is there any record for Sirius Orion Black in the files?" The Chief Warlock asked.

"On October 31, 1981, Sirius Orion Black conducted an inheritance ritual at Gringotts London branch, succeeding the previous Lord - Arcturus Orion Black, whose death had been notified to have occurred on October 29,1981." Dullard replied in a monotone. "The records also state that Sirius Orion Black blood-adopted one Harry James Potter into the Black Family and officially renamed him as one Ares James Black."

"Hold," Lord Greengrass interrupted. "Does this mean that the Noble House of Malfoy tried to commit Line Theft by forcing punishment on the legitimate Heir of Black? This is preposterous!"

"Hem-hem!" The toad-woman, Dolores Umbridge, spoke up. "We are forgetting that these are goblin records versus the word of famous philanthropist and a Wizengamot member. Those breeds are not to be trusted, and I think that-"

"Dolores!" Amelia snapped, cutting off the secretary's words "Please do not utter any more words unless you wish to spark off another goblin rebellion."

Dolores fumed at the interruption. "I am the Senior Undersecretary of the-"

"You are a secretary." Augusta Longbottom interrupted the tirade before it could escalate. The pink-clad woman had always rubbed her the wrong way. "Your job is to push papers and make notes, not make decisions at the Wizengamot. Hold your tongue or else I will have you carted off from this room."

"Now, now Regent Longbottom, I am sure there is no need for-" Minister Fudge tried to placate the furious woman but to no avail. Augusta Longbottom was furious.

"You ignore the laws of the Wizengamot and put a Scion of a Noble and Most Ancient House on trial. You ignore his basic rights and privileges, and now you want us to ignore the fact that you were involved in the Line Theft of a Noble and Most Ancient House by a mere Noble House?"

Ares forced his Occlumency to maximum power to contain his chuckles. This was turning out much better than what him and Pad had expected.

Dullard cleared his throat to drag the Wizengamot's attention to him. "We have another notification from Gringotts stating that Ares James Black has been declared Heir Apparent of the House of Black on August 1, 1992."

"Were there any witnesses?" The Chief Warlock questioned.

"The Bulgarian Minister for Magic, Chief Warlock." Dullard answered in monotone.

Ares thought it was hilarious. Many of the Lords and Ladies were fuming in anger at the gross injustice that was occurring in the emergency session, in front of their very eyes. The fourth and fifth tiers stayed quiet, knowing very well that commenting on Ancient House Business would be considered out of line, and not at all acknowledged. The reporters were taking pages upon pages of notes of what might be the most scandalizing turn of events at the trial of the most famous teenager of Wizarding history. Minister Fudge opened his mouth and closed it at random intervals, unsure if speaking was the best action forward, since he had already dug himself a rather, large hole. Dolores Umbridge looked like someone who had just tasted a bad egg.

Lucius was mortified. He had all but forced the emergency session, so that he could feast on the amount of publicity he would acquire, not just by publicly declaring Draco as the legitimate Heir, but also the reparations that he would demand from the House of Potter. It was a perfect golden goose that he had decided to take advantage of.

However, the proverbial golden goose had turned out to be stink-sap, and now he could only stare in absolute horror as the reputation of the Noble House of Malfoy was disintegrating before his very eyes, events that were only possible because the green-eyed boy standing at the center of the chamber playing him for a fool. His fury and horror aside, a part of his mind marvelled at the Slytherin tactic that the teenager had used against him. Lucius had done his worst to make sure that the Potter would be defamed, his reputation tarnished. He had never expected that the boy would take his grand plan, and reverse the pieces, turn it on itself and destroy the reputation of the House of Malfoy.

"Lucius… Lucius?"

Narcissa's voice shook him up from the vicious cycle of his own thoughts, as he slowly turned his head towards his wife. A part of him wanted to strangle this bitch for not checking everything. But another part of him reluctantly accepted that it was his idea to go forth with the complaint without checking the records at Gringotts.

"Lucius… Do something." Narcissa hissed at her husband. She knew they were done for.

What… what could I possibly do now? Lucius's brilliant mind was in turmoil at the events that had taken place in front of his eyes.

"Lucius… you have to do something or else the vultures will tear the Malfoy name apart." Narcissa all but snarled the words. She could not let Lucius stop thinking. The reputation of the Noble House of Malfoy depended on his words.

Her words seemed to work, as Lucius jolted his from shock.

His instincts kicked in. There would be time for rage, but this was not it. He had dug his own coffin, and now he would have to climb out of it. Shameful or not, he would have to… have to….

Apologize.

Lucius stood up. He could feel the stares converging on him, but he had eyes for only one person. The fifteen-year-old who had played him, and beaten him at his own game. The boy, who had, fifteen years ago, destroyed his dream of standing aside the Dark Lord in a pureblood-world, and now once again had shattered his and his son's dream of holding the Dark Alliance spearheaded by the one of the Darkest families of the World. The boy who would now destroy the Malfoy name unless Lucius did something.

His first instinct was to throw a killing curse at the boy. Repeatedly. However, implementing that line of thought into action would only help in throwing Lucius into his own coffin and sealing the lid. He would be lucky if Wizarding Britain did not tear his entire family to pieces.

His rage displaced, he reached out for all his cunning, guile and charm that had allowed him to develop his political and economic power. With slow, measured steps towards Ares Black, he gently walked down the stairs until he was standing in front of the boy, looking at him in the eye.

"I… I apologize…" Lucius bowed his head slightly – he could not shame himself completely. "Please… Forgive the House of Malfoy for our actions taken in ignorance of the facts, and for the insults dealt to the Houses of Potter and Black. Please do not declare us as traitors." He would kill himself before being declared a traitor to Magical Britain. There was a reason the Weasleys were shunned by the Noble Houses for their ancestor's actions even after a hundred years.

The damned boy didn't even move a muscle on his face.

Lucius grit his teeth as he continued his apology. "We acted on the basis of the information we had, and assumed that… that you were misinformed about the heirship… and…"

Ares cut him off, anger lacing his words. "I remember stating, rather clearly, and publicly, to your heir, that I was the Heir Apparent of the House of Black. During the same public announcement, I demonstrated proof of my claim by displaying the Heir ring of the House of Black." His expression of anger turned into a smirk. "But let us ignore that, in the spirit of brotherhood and all that… Why did you not ask for a meeting with the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter over the issue?"

Lucius just stared, having no excuses to make.

"You did not seek an audience with the House of Potter, as per the demands of tradition. No, you went forward to openly submit an official complaint, one that resulted in an emergency Wizengamot session, and used it in an attempt to publicly shame the House of Potter." Ares was snarling towards the end.

Silence permeated the hall.

"I am this close to declaring you as blood traitors to Magical Britain." Ares held up his thumb and fore finger together, less than a millimetre of space between them. "And I would be well within my rights to do that."

Lucius felt the cane in his hand slip and fall down on the floor with a clang, as his heart accepted the tumultuous defeat.

The entire Wizengamot stared in silence. Even Albus Dumbledore looked at Ares speculatively.

"However…" Ares continued, causing Lucius to look at him with a glimmer of hope. "Your wife and son possess the blood of Blacks. Keeping that in mind… I am… forced to reconsider. You shall swear on the Malfoy name to grant the Lord Black three favours, favours which are to be granted at a time and place of his choosing."

Giving himself a small amount of hope, Lucius carefully considered the offer. After all, he wouldn't want the Blacks or Potters to hold any form of control or Primacy over him. "What… favours…?"

"That will be notified to you in due time." Ares replied with steel in his voice. "I will arrange an audience with the Lord Black to discuss over the arrangements. I would swear on my family's name that the favours would be in accordance with the laws governing the Ancient Houses, but I doubt it would matter." Ares replied casually. "Of course, you are free to reject the offer and then I can choose for you."

A part of Lucius had to doff his hat in respect to the boy. He did make for a very ruthless Black Heir, just like old man Arcturus once was. Sirius Black had taught the boy well.

Knowing the choices were losing control over his actions or a fate worse than death, Lucius gave a sigh. Looking at the boy in his eyes, he said "I… I swear on my Family's name that I will grant… the Lord Black three favours according to the arrangements and conditions that Lord Black shall place upon my family. As I swear, so mote it be." A vibrant shade of mauve radiated out of his frame as the oath took effect.

"In that case…" Ares replied after a moment, "I, Heir Apparent of the House of Black and the Head of the House of Potter, officially forgive House Malfoy for its transgressions on my person and reputation. As I swear, so mote it be." His statement was coupled with a mighty burst of magical energy from his body in the form of black fumes, which condensed to form an ethereal version of a raven, that perched on Ares's shoulder and stared at everyone else intelligently. A silvery griffin materialised beside him and glared at the Wizengamot.

The Black and Potter Family totem. Dumbledore realised.

There is a lot more going on here that I do not yet, comprehend. It seems that Sirius Black and Harry Potter have been involved in events more than what I previously anticipated.

His bright blue eyes stared at the fifteen-year-old boy who had just… pranked the Wizengamot, and had done so without losing his composure. He had beaten Lucius Malfoy at his own game and came out with far more advantages than even Lucius anticipated out of his victory. However, the entire sequence had been surprisingly illuminating. The way Harry Potter managed to call on the family totems with such effortless ease, screamed out to the heavens that the boy was anything but ordinary.

Perhaps there was something about the Prophecy after all.

Dumbledore stared silently at the Boy-Who-Lived. He had always considered the prophecy's wordings from Tom's angle… But now, there was something new to it. Staring at the boy who had just winked at him with a mischievous smile on his lips, he nodded in respect to the talent of the upcoming Lord Potter.

All right, Harry Potter. You got my attention.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Merry Christmas, people. At least, for all those who actually care about the holiday. The rest, just another of the day to laze around with friends and family.

Moving on, Did you like the chapter? Hate it? Wish to burn the two of us on a bonfire?

Anybody who wishes to burn us, may target their PM's to my fellow author, Arcturus Peverell. It was his idea. Anybody who does find a plot hole or two may leave a review or PM Arcturus again.

Now, just because we have a winning situation for our protagonist here does not mean it is all sun and roses. There is plenty of… improv coming up.

Arcturus Peverell: Do not worry. Making things up on the fly is a very good ability of mine. I will make sure the story is up to scratch… uh, wait, that came out all wrong. Uh…Whatever!

And that's my fellow author in one sentence. Anybody who is willing to stick around for the rest have a treat coming up soon.

Oh, and before we end up, hee's a private answer for a special reviewer by Skadarken in his special sarcastic manner…

Skadarken: I'm, regrettably, lowering my IQ to talk to the daft moron who literally said "Sirius stole Harry".
Dearest Illiterate reader, if you were capable of reading the English language and comprehending the letters, words, phrases, sentences used and the context of the chapter, you would have realised your jumped-up assumption was wrong.

Unlike the British Ministry of Magic, which you seem to work for, me and my fellow author do possess a rather good IQ, ability to analyse situations and create scenarios that fit our story.

You are operating under the misconception that you have the minimum intelligence necessary to live a day-to-day life. Please consult a medical practitioner soon. Do you know what the words "consult" or "medical practitioner" mean?

(In classic Severus Snape fashion) Tell me ThunderSphinx, can you read?