Marvolo stared at the teen in his arms, trying to wrap his head around the fact that it seemed that Harry didn't know anything about the most important influence in his own life.

" Dumbledore." He growled out, earning him a strange look.

"What?"

"He didn't tell you about the prophecy? Nothing? You don't have any idea why it is that I came to your house that night when I…" he cut off, knowing that 'when I killed your parents and tried to murder you as well' just might bring about certain sad memories, but it seemed Harry understood what night he was talking about.

"What do you mean? My parents were members of the order, and thus your enemies, right?"

"Yes Harry, but there was a reason why I was there that night. There was a reason they were placed under high security and I certainly had a reason to try to kill an infant. As you know by now, I don't make a sport of it to hunt babies down." He sighed. "A prophecy had been made, and Severus overheard it. Pitifully, he was discovered halfway through. I should probably have waited until I had heard the whole damn thing, but I kind of… panicked, and I had heard enough to know that you would be dangerous for me."

"And… and what are its contents?" Harry asked quietly, nervously looking up.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... This is the first part, and I have never been able to get my hands on the second. You understand why I panicked and began my search, yes?"

"Of course." Harry said grimly. "But why… why have you ignored this till now? You do not wish to kill me any longer."

"I fell in love, Harry, it's as simple as that. I fell in love with you. Before, you were just a possible threat that I wanted to eliminate, but now you are so much more… I do not have enough information to find a way to get around it, after all, I don't know the rest, but I am going to try and until I know more, I will simply ignore it. The part I know states that you have the power to vanquish me, not that you absolutely will, or are obligated to do so. It is merely a speculation, but if the whole prophecy sounds like that, it will be easy to evade…"

"But if it's not… if it's not…" Harry muttered, and Marvolo didn't answer. Instead, he stared at the wall and tightened his grip on the teen's waist.

"I thought you knew this. I didn't think Dumbledore would have told you the whole prophecy, but I thought that at least he would have told you that there is one. I'm sorry." His own words sounded hollow, even to him, and more 'what if's' tried to settle down in his mind. "We will know it soon. Dumbledore is sure to have a copy of his memory among the memories which you will get for me."

"Why Dumbledore?"

"He was there when the prophecy was made. A woman who was applying for the post of divination made her first prophecy there and then. She left quite the impression on Dumbledore, it would seem. He wanted to cancel the subject altogether, but she got the post."

"Trelawney?" Harry said in a disbelieving voice. "They were killed because of her? But she couldn't predict something for the life of… oh." Marvolo got a headache while trying to follow Harry's line of thinking sometimes, and now was one of those times. "She made another prophecy." Harry said softly while adorably furrowing his brow. "At the end of my third year, she predicted Peter's escapade to you…"

"Please" Marvolo said with strain. "Please rephrase that so it doesn't sound like he ran away to his girlfriend."

Harry snorted, a mischievous look in his eyes. "What, wasn't he ever one of those who you took to your HEY! That wasn't necessary!" the teen pouted, rubbing the sore spot on his side where he'd been poked.

"Your own fault for sending me images I did not, under any circumstance, wish to see. And what you said before wasn't true. Your parents were not killed because of her. They would have been killed by me anyways. The difference would have been that I would not have tried to kill you and destroyed myself in the process. Because of that prophecy, I fell. You probably would have been raised by a wizarding family after your parent's example and become a warrior for the Light."

"I would have joined the rebellion, and the first war would never have ended?"

"Don't say never. It makes me feel inferior." Marvolo grinned. "I would have been able to end it in a couple of years if I hadn't died."

"There is something about that prophecy that I do not understand. It was made and said I would have the power to vanquish you. Then, you go to my house and are killed. Isn't that the end of it? What makes you think that it is still in effect?"

"I…" Marvolo said, blinking, while a smug smile made its way to Harry's face. "I assumed… but if you look at it that way…"

"Well?"

"I was killed, but does vanquish mean killed? I was not completely destroyed…"

"Did the prophecy explicitly say that if I were to vanquish you, I'd have to completely destroy you?"

"I don't know." The Dark Lord whispered. "Prophecies can be interpreted in too many ways, and just a slight different wording can have a whole other effect."

"What is the definition of 'vanquishing', exactly?" Harry asked, and since it did not sound like a rhethorical question, Marvolo summoned a book from the shelf.

Flipping through the pages, he read the sentences he needed and frowned. "To defeat someone in battle, to conquer someone. Nothing here says destroying completely. To vanquish someone can even mean that you defeat someone in a contest or a game."

"So then the first sentences would say that I would have the power to defeat you in something?"

"Yes. And you did. So in that regard, it is fulfilled. But, there is still the dilemma what the rest is."

"Do you think I could confront Dumbledore about it?"

"No. Don't. It would be too risky and you would need a good story. It is much easier to rummage through his memories until finding the one about the prophecy. He is the only one who ever heard it. And further, I wouldn't know where to…" Marvolo abruptly broke off when getting an epiphany. "Of course… of course… I should have known. Circe, I was even told about it…"

"About what?"

"The hall of prophecies." The Dark Lord declared. "It is a place in the Ministry of Magic that contains a record of every prophecy ever made. Rookwood, one of my followers, mentioned it once, when he was giving me information about the Unspeakables. He worked there, although in another room. I am ashamed to have to admit that I forgot, but he never gave me more detailed information about that room than its name and use. He didn't need to, for I wanted him to spy on another department, the Thought room. And to think that all those years, the prophecy lay there, just waiting for me to come by and pick it up… me or you."

"Won't anyone have taken it before us then? It was a long time ago…"

"Only those whom the prophecy refers to can hold it without burning themselves."

"Does Rookwood still work there?"

"No, he was caught after the end of the first war and locked up in Azkaban. He was one of those whom I broke out this summer, but there is absolutely no chance that he will be able to regain employment there again. No, if we are to receive it, we'll have to break in."

"Correction, you will have to break in. I doubt that I will be of much use." Harry pointed out, and Marvolo nodded.

"You're right. No matter how much I'd wish for us to discover it both at the same time, it would not be wise for you to go as well. Now, I must go and contact Rookwood for information about how to get in there unnoticed."

"Now? It is almost midnight! You need to sleep!" Harry protested, and Marvolo smiled before kissing the teen's cheek with affection.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me. I doubt I'll be able to get much sleep when mulling over these thoughts."

"Be safe."

"I will."

"Oh, Marvolo?"

"Yes, my dear?"

Harry stuttered a bit before blushing furiously while Marvolo sat back and smirked until Harry composed himself. "The Twins overheard Dumbledore during several conversations. It would seem that the headmaster used compulsion charms on some of my friends and perhaps other students as well to make them more 'light'. Can you check my mind? He probably tried that as well with me."

"Probably, but when I healed your mind after Bellatrix' Cruciatus curse, there was nothing that revealed mind magic. If there was, it is high likely that it was destroyed."

"Maybe that was another reason I was so… so…"

"Dark? Yes, though the main reason was that your sense of empathy, mercy and several other emotions were reduced to nothing."

" You wanted to come along to Transfiguration tomorrow, didn't you? Can you search the minds of my friends for Dumbledore's influence?"

"Of course. That will be easy. Now, I have to go to speak to Rookwood."

Harry gave him a crushing hug which he returned with enthusiasm. "I'll see you tomorrow then, kay?"

"What time do you have transfiguration?"

"Right after the first break."

"I'll be in front of the classroom."

"How will I call you? I need a name…"

"Thanos du Fuga." Marvolo said immediately, and Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, okay? Why?"

"Voldemort means Flight of death. Thanos du Fuga literally means Death of flight, although in a mixture of Greek, French and Latin. I thought it to be a nice joke. A literal translation to Flight of death wouldn't go unnoticed by Dumbledore, but I can get away with this, especially because there really is a du Fuga family in Italy. They are one of the oldest pureblood families in Europe and, as their surname already indicates, have their roots in the Roman empire."

"And won't they notice it if there is someone who uses their name here?"

"Even if they do, They owe me a huge favour. Years ago, before the start of the first war, I cured the heir of the du Fuga family. The healers were at lost, but with a book of Slytherin and some parselmagic, I was able to cure him."

"Why are you so amazing?"

"What do I say, it's a talent." Marvolo smirked.

"Hmm, I am glad to have such a talented boyfriend…" Harry said, and pressed a kiss to the corner of Marvolo's lips.

"Boy?" the man laughed.

"I can hardly tell my friends your age, can I? So, do you also have some background for me?"

"Of course, I went to school at Nobilemagia, the school for magic in Italy, left school a year early, hence the reason I cannot show any sort of certificate, travelled around, had several jobs, excelled at healing, and now I live in Hogsmeade, cobbleroad 9, running a small apothecary. "

"And… won't anyone notice that there isn't an apothecary?"

"Oh, there is… you will find everyone in the village willing to tell you of the charming, friendly young man who came to live there two years ago. Strangely enough, the old woman who used to live there until a two days ago is never mentioned by them…"

"You killed her?" Harry said, strangely enough not feeling angry or disgusted.

"Yes. No-one will miss her anyway. She didn't have family or friends and kept to herself a lot. Cobbleroad 9 is a house that lies a bit apart from the rest, and the street itself is located in a part of Hogsmeade that is usually only visited by inhabitants of the village itself."

"How did you do it? Not the killing part… the persuasion charms… that was what you used, right?"

"Indeed. I created a sort of wave-like frequency that nestled its way into the long-term memory of everyone who came in near and about a four-mile distance of Hogsmeade, containing the information I wanted it to, and another to erase any thoughts about the old witch who used to live there. It is a harmless spell that goes unnoticed, and once it is part of the long-term memory, it will seem as a memory of your own, rather than a memory that was placed there by someone else. Seeing as Hogwarts lies within a four-mile radius of Hogsmeade, everyone in the castle, including Dumbledore and the other professors, will have this memory. So don't be surprised if they think they have met me before somewhere or know bits about me. Of course."

"When did you all do this?" Harry asked, astonished. "and how did you know it would be necessary? up until this evening, you didn't even want to walk around in your other form, right?"

"I hadn't planned on actively using it… but having a disguise or alibi can never hurt. Therefore, I spent last days creating Thanos."

"Why don't I have that information?"

"After the Cruciatus curse of Bellatrix, I made sure your mind would be protected from outer damage from now on, thus I put up shields against intruding magic. The spell I used did not settle in your mind because of those shields. Now, no more questions, it is late already and I have a prophesy to retrieve."

As an answer, Harry hugged Marvolo for a few minutes, mentally making a picture of the scene, so he would be able to recall this memory clearly later. When he released his lover, he got to his feet and picked his cloak up from the ground.

"Bye!" Harry said while covering himself up again. Marvolo just smiled and got up to apparate away.


Harry held his breath as he entered the dorm, glad to find Ron snoring already. The other boys were sleeping as well, and Harry snickered under his breath when he heard Neville mumble something about forgetting passwords and Snape. Making sure that he was absolutely silent, Harry changed into his pajamas and then snuck to his trunk. He opened it and lifted the lid carefully, stuffing the invisibility cloak inside. He hesitated a moment, but then searched around in the trunk until his fingers got hold of a pentagon-shaped card. He closed his fist around it and pulled back, closing the trunk again. Harry turned the card around in his hand with a smile on his face and laid it on top of his pillow so that the moonlight shone on it. He crept under the blankets, propping himself up on his elbows to stare at the card. He wondered if it was weird to be so obsessed with your lover, but he could never get enough of staring at Marvolo's face. He caressed the picture, and the Dark Lord just blinked lazily and crossed his arms, still arrogantly staring back.

"I love you, y'know." He whispered before placing it under his pillow.


His feet landed on the wet soil and he curled his lips in disgust when catching sight of the shack. That someone could sink as low as to live here. Well, he guessed that the chance that the Ministry found his follower was too high to risk returning to his family home, which the man had had to leave to the care of the time when spending his years in Azkaban. Marvolo pulled his hood far over his face. It was in the middle of the night, so no Muggles were outside, but one could never be careful enough… When standing in front of a paintless, tattered door, he rapped on the wood.

"Who's there?" a raspy, panicked voice sounded.

"It is I, your Lord." He spoke, glad that his follower was awake still.

A few shuffling sounds later, the door opened. "My lord! Come in, come in please. To what do I owe this honour? Please, take a seat."

With as much dignity as he could manage, he sat down on a creaky, ramshackle chair and placed his arms and hands on the table.

"Tea, My Lord?"

"No thank you Rookwood. I'm just here for some information. I won't be staying long."

"Of course." Rookwood replied, bowing his head a little before looking up with curiosity. He sat down on the opposite chair.

"Years ago, when you first started working at the Department of Mysteries, you mentioned a hall of prophecies to me, is that correct?"

"Yes, my lord."

"I need to collect a prophecy there. What is the precise location of the hall and how are the prophecies arranged?"

"You do know, my Lord, that only those whom the prophecy refers to, can touch it…"

"I know." He replied, making an impatient gesture with his hand.

"I haven't been there for thirteen years… the security may have changed."

"I am positive that no security will pose a threat to me, now, tell me, where is it and how do I get in?"

"It is located on the ninth floor, all the way to the left when exiting the elevator. There is a long corridor with a black door at the end of it. Once you have entered that, you will face a set of doors. Once you close the door behind you, the doors will rotate, so the easiest way to find the hall is to leave that door open. You need to enter the third door on the right, to the time room. After you have crossed that, you will enter the hall of prophecies. The hall itself exists of towering shelves with blue, dusty orbs. The owner of a prophecy will be able to take it, after which the prophecy will be heard…"

"Thank you, that will be all… you have helped me greatly… once I have retrieved this prophecy, you will be rewarded."

"Thank you, my Lord." Rookwood said with another bow. "Oh, as far as I know, the elevator key is held within the office of the Minister of Magic himself."

"That is good to know. Well, I bid you goodnight."

"Goodnight, my lord." Rookwood said, getting up to open the door.


"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."

Stunned, the Dark Lord put the prophecy back on the shelf and sat down on the ground, taking a deep breath. Either must die at the hand of the other… neither can live while the other survives... Why? Why did fate curse them, yet again? And what power did the prophecy speak of? Before, he would have thought love, but that couldn't be correct. He'd felt love, knew what it was… what then?

He decided it would be suspicious to take the prophecy with him, so he put his wand against his head and extracted the memory of the prophecy for Harry. He contemplated about not telling his lover, but he knew he couldn't betray the teen like that. They would find a solution together. His mind worked at top speed to try and grasp all the angles in which the prophecy could be looked at. Yes, vanquish was unclear, but die? And yet, he had died, thirteen years ago. He'd come back, but he had died. Could it be true, that this prophecy only referred to the event which had happened already? He couldn't have lived while Harry survived back then, for he would have constantly been eating himself up over the fact that there was someone in the world who had the power to vanquish him. Harry couldn't have truly lived either, for he'd have been cooped up in a house, hidden away. He would have grown up in confinement with the knowledge that there was someone out there for his life…

The Dark lord relaxed again and leaned back, his head resting on the shelves. A self-fulfilling prophecy? A prophecy which came true because the prophecy had been made? Yes, if it had never been made, he would never have hunted Harry down, would never have marked him… They wouldn't even have this dilemma. However, even if it could be explained as passed already, there was a small chance that it was still active. Would it be broken if they chose to not act upon it? He didn't know nearly enough about prophecies. Once he'd heard it, he'd hunted Harry down, and he wasn't back for that long now. Because of to the war and other happenings, he had neglected to look more into it. Maybe Dumbledore knew… or suspected. Which, with Dumbledore, was practically the same.

He forced himself to think logically about it, without what if's… He lived now, Harry lived now, they were quite happy together, and neither felt any desire to kill the other. So one sentence of the prophecy wasn't true right now. The other sentences spoke of things which already happened, except the one about the power that he knew not. And even that… when killing Harry back then, he had suppressed his feelings and was hungry for power, totally consumed by it. Spending thirteen years as a spirit tampered his madness somewhat, caused him to see other people in a different perspective and also shone another light on his past actions and feelings. Perhaps that had been why his emotions had resurfaced when he had been resurrected… And if that was true, then indeed, Harry had held love, a power he knew not of back then. He did now, so in that regard as well, the prophecy was incorrect regarding this time.

It felt like a weight lifted from his chest, and he was able to properly breathe again. So it had passed already, and wasn't of consequence anymore. They were free to do whatever they wanted to right now.


"Come on, hurry up!" Harry said in a frantic voice. He could hardly conceal his excitement. Their next lesson was transfiguration, and Marvolo had promised to be there…

"What is it with you?" Ron complained, trying to keep up with him.

"He's coming today." He grinned, not able to wait any longer to tell them.

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"My boyfriend…" Harry said, and Hermione gave him a surprised look.

"I thought you didn't want to tell us more about him?"

"Yeah, well, he decided that what we get taught here is appalling and seriously lacking information, so he's going to tell McGonagall how she should teach." Harry grinned, already looking forward to the situation that would produce. Hermione apparently had the same in mind, though on her face, horror dawned.

"He is going to do what?"

"Gamp's law of blahblah something… he showed me that it was incorrect, so he's going to show McGonagall why it is incorrect as well."

"Gamp's law of elemental transfiguration is not incorrect!" the girl gasped.

"Then explain me how he created food from nothing and ate it afterwards?"

"He created… food? Prepared food?"

"Bread, yeah. It looked delicious as well."

"But… it must've been a trick… surely…" the witch said with a confused look. Harry gave her an irritated shrug. It was just like with Luna's magical creatures. Hermione never believed something that wasn't written in school books.

"What's his name, anyways?" Ron asked, and Harry was glad that his friend had gotten over the fact that Harry was gay.

"Thanos."

"Weird name."

"He's weird as well." Harry chuckled.

"Who's weird?" A smooth voice said, a second before a pair of arms came around Harry. The teen looked up and pressed a brief kiss to Marvolo's cheek.

"Hey Than."

"What did I tell you about nicknames?" the man huffed, his teal eyes sparkling. No doubt, he loved to be able to kiss Harry in front of Harry's friends without them knowing a thing about his real identity. He looked at Ron and Hermione, and both times, the teen saw his eyes darken for a moment before turning back to his cheerful mood.

"To not make up nicknames for you? But come one, 'Than' is better than the others I came up with, right?"

"You insufferable…" Marvolo grumbled.

"So, are you ready to be killed by McGonagall because you dared question her knowledge?"

"Absolutely." Marvolo said with a half-crooked smirk than was to die for.

"You're in a good mood today." Harry said, turning around to face his lover.

"Well, a certain prediction turned out to have come true already… and thus is nothing to worry about anymore…" the man murmured, giving a smile and a small nod when Harry's eyes widened. "Now, won't you introduce me to your friends?"

"Yeah, of course. Than, this are Ron and Hermione. Guys, this is Thanos, my boyfriend." Harry replied with a dazed look, still trying to comprehend what Marvolo had said. The prophecy had come true already? It wouldn't influence their lives further? A smile slowly spread on his face as he leaned against his lover.

"Well yes, I believe that we figured out the last already with the hugging and kisses…" Hermione said, getting the same fangirl-like look like the one she had on the train. "Thanos… can I call you Thanos?"

"If I can call you Hermione…"

"Sure, sure… hm, how should I put this? Harry said that you… broke the law of elemental transfiguration…"

"I didn't break it. The one who made the law up marked the boundaries of his own magic as the law… if you can't perform a spell, that does not necessarily mean that others can't. Even if the majority of people cannot do something, it doesn't mean that it is impossible… magic has no boundaries."

"Magic cannot retrieve people from the dead." Hermione frowned.

"Oh yes it can…" Marvolo said, and Harry remembered the tale of the resurrection stone. "Of course, the question is whether the dead want to live again, but it is possible to call them back. Necromancers have been trying for millennia, and some even succeeded… But enough of the dead… it is such an unpleasant topic. Your class is about to start."

Whispers broke out when they entered, but Marvolo just gave them a haughty look and ignored the rest in favor of turning to professor McGonagall. Harry and his friends quickly sat down on their seats and watched the man with fascination.

"Good afternoon." He simply said, and their teacher raised an eyebrow.

"I beg you pardon, mister…"

"Du Fuga. Thanos du Fuga." Marvolo replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

"Mister du Fuga, unless you have a good reason for your presence, I will ask you to leave, for my class is about to start." McGonagall said, obviously puzzled why there was a stranger in her classroom.

"Actually, I do have a good reason for being here. I would like to ask you why these children are taught… lies."

"What the hell is he talking about?" Dean muttered behind Harry.

Professor McGonagall stuttered before composing herself. "That is a grave accusation, sir. Would you care to explain?"

"Naturally. I was helping a student of yours with his homework, and I noticed that you require your pupils to learn the boundaries of magic, while magic has no limitations but the power of the caster."

"This is about Gamp's law?" the witch said, sitting down and folding her hands. "Excuse me, sir, but that law has been proven again and again. There are certain things that magic cannot make from nothing."

"Allow me to show you then…" the Dark Lord said, and narrowed his eyes at an empty spot on her desk. A few minutes of absolute silence later, after which nothing had happened, the professor began to say something in a scoffing tone, but Hermione of all people made a shushing sound. When opening her mouth the reprimand the girl, she gasped, for a lump of something brown appeared on her desk. Marvolo relaxed and let his breath escape before approaching the desk and picking the thing up.

"What is…"

"Food… a bit deformed, I must admit, but it is chocolate nonetheless… care to have a taste?"

"Chocolate…" the professor said with wide eyes. "You created prepared food out of nothing?"

"Exactly." Marvolo said on a smug tone.

"H… how?" Parkinson asked in an awed voice.

"Harry, did you write it down yesterday?"

"Too lazy to tell it again?" Harry smirked, and got a glare in return. "Don't fret, I have it here." He said, throwing his lover a roll of parchment. Marvolo caught it and handed it to McGonagall, who frowned and read it.

"This… I have to study this." The witch said, appearing distraught. "This indeed sounds very… reasonable. That is not to say of the handwriting." She said in a snappy tone, and Harry tried to look guilty. "Potter, I told you to do something about that incomprehensible scribbling of yours…"

"I'm sorry professor." Harry mumbled.

"Well, I guess that this means that I won't have to collect the essays anymore." –Hermione groaned- "That does not mean, however, that the ones who didn't make their homework will be let off lightly…" –the rest of the class groaned- "Now, I will postpone the lesson about Gamp's law till Friday. Today, we will begin to study the usage of spells that give an object a quality of another. We will begin with a simple charm to make an object slippery, and the practical uses of such a spell. Page 3, please." She said, and again raised an eyebrow at Marvolo.

"Mister du Fuga…"

"I would like to stay and observe, with your permission… a bit of nostalgia, if you will."

"Ah, I see. Feel free to watch. I can hear that you are not from around?"

"No, I was born and raised in Italy and only moved here a few years ago."

"Ah, I already wondered why you were so familiar…" McGonagall said, looking like she suddenly remembered something. "Don't you own the apothecary in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes Madam, I didn't know my humble shop was well-known…" Marvolo said, inclining his head a bit to hide a smirk.

"Ah well, I... CRABBE, DON'T YOU DARE." She suddenly boomed, and Crabbe jumped, dropping the wand which he had had pointed at Parvati, causing a stream of blue, sizzling mud to stream over the floor instead of flying through the air and hitting the girl, who watched the mud with a pale face. "Thirty points from Slytherin and detention with Mr Senka! How dare you try to perform such a dangerous spell on another student! Be sure that your parents will hear of this! Now, get out of my classroom!"

Someone shrieked as the mud spread out and connected with a table leg, setting the table on fire. Immediately, Marvolo shot forward, pointing his wand at the flame. "Ishextiung" he said, and it looked like the flame crept back off the surface. "Evanesco." The mud disappeared, leaving only a singe where it had been on the stone floor. "Thank Zoroaster that the floor isn't made of wood, or else we'd have faced a disaster…" he grumbled, and Harry wondered who this Zoro person was. An image of a tv-show Dudley used to watch flashed before his eyes.

"Thank you for acting so quickly, Mr du Fuga…"

"No problem at all… I do hope though that that boy will be properly put into place. Someone could have gotten harmed!" If Harry hadn't known who exactly 'Thanos' really was, he would have believed those words… now, he just knew that Marvolo was instead mentally laughing his ass off.

"I will make sure of it." McGonagall said. "Now, back to your seats, all of you. We will continue the lesson."


The school bell rang and Harry practically jumped off his seat. Apart from the beginning, the lesson had been absolutely boring. Why in the name of Merlin would you want to have a slippery object? Well, he guessed it could be fun to ice the floor over so the Slytherins would slip and fall, but other than that? He sighed and hugged Marvolo, for a moment forgetting that the other students could still see them. "Who is this Zoroaster?" he asked, humming when fingers began to scratch at his scalp. He closed his eyes, therefore not seeing how Draco Malfoy suddenly paled and widened his eyes while watching them.

"The Merlin of Persia, ancient Greek and also the Roman Empire. A Light Lord. Strangely enough, his philosophy has become a Muggle religion… he only became well-known by the Greek and Romans long after his death though."

"Really? That's interesting… why would they follow a wizard?"

"Loads of Muggles thought that it was only a rumor that he was a wizard and once he died, only his visions were spread, not his magic."

"Let me guess, the Du Fuga family worships him? You're getting far too much in character…" Harry mumbled, so softly that none but Marvolo would hear him. The man chuckled, his breath pleasantly tickling Harry's ear.

"Not exactly. 'My' family worships Ostanes, who was a Dark Lord. He was a descendant of Zoroaster, but wanted to study more than he was allowed to. He was the first who fought for the rights of freely performing magic. But I think that I should save this tale for another time, when there are less people around who wouldn't agree with my beliefs." He whispered.

Harry understood and nodded, loosening his grip on his lover. "I won't be able to see you this evening, for I have detention, but tomorrow, I can be there, okay?"

"I'll look forward to you. We have much to discuss." Marvolo smiled, and caught Harry's lips. The teen surrendered to the feeling for a few minutes until he noticed that the classroom was empty, apart from his professor, who was ignoring them, but had a small smile on her face. "Now, I think you have to attend your next class." The Dark Lord said, taking Harry's hand and pulling him out of the room. "There will be someone waiting for you tomorrow though… he's been looking forward to talking to you."

"Who?"

"A surprise…" Marvolo smiled, and even Harry's pout could not persuade him to tell Harry who it was.


"Ah, Mr Potter… I am so glad that you could make it on time…" the woman said with a false smile that had Harry's neck hairs rising.

"Professor Umbridge…" he answered her, and then hesitated, not knowing what was expected of him. Marvolo had told him that this woman could be cruel, but so far, he didn't see any torture devices. Then again, he'd seen enough magic to know that one didn't need an iron maiden to create pain.

"So, I hope that after tonight you will have learned your lesson, so that it won't be necessary for you to return here. Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Mr Potter. No, not with your own quill… here, I'll give you one of mine…"

At seeing the gleam in her eyes, he gulped and looked down at the quill in suspicion. He dropped his bag next to the chair and sat down, staring at the blank parchment that lay on top of the desk.

"I want you to write 'I must not tell lies.'" She simply said and leaned back into the chair with a look of utter satisfaction that told Harry that there was more to this than met the eye.

"How many times?"

"Until it… sinks in." she answered. "begin."

"I don't have any ink."

"Oh, but you won't be needing any ink, Mr Potter…"

With a frown, he started to write, gasping as a searing pain shot through his hand at the same time bright red letters appeared… blood-red. He stared at the back of his hand in horror, where the words that had been carved in quickly disappeared. This was dark magic, very dark and used improperly… Even with the pain still lingering, he smiled grimly, knowing that, once Marvolo got wind of this, nothing would be left of this woman. He guessed he would just have to pull himself through this for an evening, and proceeded to write, trying to ignore the pain in his hand which reminded him so much of the Dursleys... But no, the Dursley's had been far worse. At least this quill didn't mentally tear him down as well. It only hurt him physically, and he was quite used to that. Too used to that.

He ignored the delight in Umbridge's eyes, and wouldn't give her the pleasure of showing her how it affected him. Instead, he wrote line after line, carving it into his own skin until the words didn't disappear anymore, but instead got deeper and deeper. It came to his mind that he could slow his writing down so he would have to write less, but in the end, his stubbornness won over, knowing that she would see it as weakness and surrender on his side. So instead he wrote on and on, willing tears away that gathered in the corner of his eyes and suppressing the trembling of his hands. When at last, she told him to stop and sent him away after studying his hand, only one thought crossed his mind.

You will pay


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xx GeMerope