The last chapter of Part I

Enjoy!


"Again."

Harry mentally rolled his eyes at the word, which seemed to be the only thing that had been said during the past… hours. He positioned himself again, raising his wand at the other to fire the curse, but before the spell had even left his lips, Eyolf was nowhere to be seen. Disoriented, Harry spun around, trying to locate the other. Suddenly, he felt a knife at his throat, pressing down briefly before retreating.

"Tell me again why I need to do this?" Harry asked, obviously annoyed. "I have mastered the freezing spell, and even the copying spell, though it's not even necessary for the mission anymore. I could have already been up in that office!"

"But you're not allowed to be until the Dark Lord is back, and thus, I have taken it upon myself to teach you valuable spells and battle techniques, something many young assassins in the guild would hang themselves for."

"If having the choice between this and hanging myself, I'd know which I'd rather do…" the teen muttered, but Eyolf ignored him.

Harry narrowed his eyes and took on a fighting stance before the man told him to, feeling the need to prove the man at least once that he could live up to the high expectations. Merlin's balls, he'd battleddragons!

And had sex with one, but that was beside the point.

A sudden idea struck him, and he carefully waited, not moving until the other did. He saw a muscle twitch on Eyolf's left hand and he ducked to the right a second after, narrowly avoiding a blow. Taking a deep breath, he recalled a passage from a book he'd read earlier and spun around while weaving a spell. Only when he saw the other stop, confused, did Harry know it had worked, and with a spark of pride, he strengthened the spell that bent the light until it went around him, effectively making himself invisible for a few moments. He cancelled the spell and took advantage of the split second he had to throw a Stupefy at Eyolf, disappointed when the man whirled out of the way.

Harry stopped, eyeing the other, who wore a grim expression now, and for some reason, the teen thought that he was finally being taken seriously. Frantically, he tried to think of other curses and hexes which could make an impression on the assassin, and while he could think of a few, he had never really practiced any of them and didn't think he could pull them off without practice. Finally, Eyolf attacked, and when Harry let himself fall on the floor, he transfigured the stone so it rose and formed steel. He remembered a spell Devaki had taught him during summer and quickly estimated the chance it would succeed. He rolled away and got to his feet, wondering why Eyolf wasn't constantly attacking him like he had been earlier. Deciding it was useless to try and figure out how the mind of the man worked, Harry slowly began to concentrate on the invisible water particles in the air, forcing them together. The air turned moist, and with a second spell, the teen rose the temperature to boiling level, careful to stay out of the mist that formed.

The other escaped most of the effects of the curse by quickly cooling the water again, but Harry saw with satisfaction that Eyolf's skin had taken on a reddish tint at some spots on his body.

"Not a very common spell." The man said, but while Harry tried to gauge what his reaction meant, a nonverbal spell shot out of the tip of Eyolf's wand, throwing Harry back harshly. When the teen finally got up again though, wobbling on his feet and raising his arm once more, he was stopped by the assassin. "Come here, Harry." the man said, waving him closer, giving him an appreciating look when the other did not let his guard down. "Good, trust no-one." he spoke, nodding. He donned the hood of his oddly gray/green flecked cloak again which had slipped off during practice, leaving his eyes invisible to Harry again as they both sat down on the floor.

"Harry Potter… do you know what war is?"

Having not expected that question, Harry was thrown off balance for a moment and answered the first thing that came to mind. "People... fighting for their beliefs?"

"Do you really think every follower of the Dark Lord fights for his cause? Or that every member of the Order wants the same thing? There are Death Eaters who are here just for war, with no other purpose or goal. I ask again, what is war?"

"I don't know." Harry shrugged. "When envisioning war, I see two sides facing each other, following commands… trying to win."

"Indeed… war is nothing more than trying to defeat your enemy by force. It is madness and chaos. It is sadness and anger. It can be an addictive thrill, but for most, it is something disgusting. You will have to fight, Harry Potter, out on a battlefield, multiple times. Can you do that?"

"I… I think so."

A cynical smirk told him it was the wrong answer.

"Youthink so? When standing there, facing the other army, you can't run or hide anymore Potter. You will have to know you can do it. To slaughter people without mercy, to lock your feelings when comrades die next to you. And there is one thing that you mustnever forget."

"What?"

"There is no glory in battle. You cannot compare reality with silly dreams. Children's games of war, where people duel one on one, with infinite rules of honour, are not reality."

"But... how can one fight without honour? Even here at Hogwarts, when dueling, there are rules… the previous time I encountered Ma- Voldemort, back when he was still my enemy, he insisted on dueling etiquette."

Eyolf leaned back and sighed. He might have closed his eyes, but even though he was looking in the direction of the ceiling, the hood still covered half of his face so Harry was unable to tell. "I have heard of your adventures, Potter. You have indeed faced situations no child should, but those encounters can't be compared to what you still have to do. In your first year, your second, your fourth… all your fights were against one person, and all you know is a proper duel.

But no-one cares about that when facing hundreds of enemies, all trying to kill you. I have told you before that you have to use every means possible to stay alive when confronted with enemies. You cannot afford tonot throw a dagger in someone's back during a battle if it gives you a chance to live a few seconds longer. If you would follow the code of honour, that same person you didn't kill might slit your throat from behind later.

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because the harsh truth is this: you are nowhere ready. You are not a master duelist Harry, and though I can't deny that you have great potential, you do not have enough fighting experience. What fifteen-year-old boy would? You will have to go up against trained Aurors, magical creatures, people like Albus Dumbledore, who have more knowledge and magic than you could ever dream of. And in battle, all of them are your potential enemy. Every man and woman will fight for themselves and if someone covers you, that's great, but don't expect it to happen, because then you will be dead. The Dark Lord will have other things on his mind than to watch your every move, and you will be one of the prime targets of the Light."

"If I'm lost anyways… what's the use of saying this?" Harry asked, fear gripping his throat.

"You are not lost. If you are aware enough, and, no matter how little you may like it, play foul enough, you will survive, and that's the only thing that should really count. Don't even think of why you're fighting, just do it until you notice that no enemy still stands. Be aware of your surroundings and use them to your advantage. If the place of the battle is decided before the actual battle, go to it and try to find things in the landscape that may help you, find an eventual shelter, or a rock under which you can stash helpful tools."

"Thank you. Really, thank you for your advice, I really appreciate it. But there's one thing I don't understand… you're an assassin, but you're saying you don't like war? Don't like fighting?"

Eyolf sighed. "I don't know. I was trained to feel indifferent to fighting, to killing. It really doesn't bother me anymore. But I know I used to despise war, and bloodshed in general."

"Then... why choose to become an assassin?" Harry asked, confused.

A laugh, sounding strangely insane and desperate, startled the teen, and his senses immediately went on alert. The normally composed man shook, and Harry didn't know if it was from crying or laughing.

"Choose..." the man finally wheezed out. "Choose? Why would anyone.."

"What?" Harry asked, thoroughly puzzled now.

"I am a member of the Assassins Guild Potter… While the happenings inside the Guild itself are strictly secret, the way members are recruited is common knowledge. You honestly do not know?"

"Well, I'm sorry for not having been raised by wizards."

Eyolf sighed and drew a sign on the floor, but Harry couldn't see what it was from his angle and the man wiped it out again after he'd finished it. "The Guild has eyes everywhere, and… selects… young witches and wizards whom they think talented. It is the nightmare of every parent. The child is abducted and trained, brainwashed, punished severely when anyone notices he or she even thinks of the world outside the Guild."

"That is horrible…"

"Perhaps… but also necessary. Look at it like this: the few people who have the capabilities to fight and survive are trained. Therefore, the majority of people will not have to fight. If there were no assassins, if no-one did the dirty work behind the scenes, then open war would be a common practice. The Guild chooses those who are most likely to make it through and gives them all the training and equipment they need."

"But what if you don't want to be trained?"

"By then, you have seen secrets you shouldn't, and as such, are a danger. Recruits who try to leave are eliminated."

"You don't sound like you agree with it."

"I know why it is done… I agree that it has to be done. But no-one there is loyal to the Guild. Every single person who is a part of it was a victim once as well, and all know how it feels to be taken away from everything they ever knew. But we have drifted off topic. War… I hope you can do it, Potter. I really hope you can. If the Dark wins this war, then we might finally have the world and the freedom we should have. Now, do you want to rest or train some more?"

With a sad smile, Harry got up and gripped his wand tighter. "I've still not learned enough."

"Start."


Up, Up…

The howling wind got hold of his clothes, trying to pull him backwards, and his hair whipped around his face, but Harry didn't care, concentrating only on the feeling of flying. It had been too long since he had rode his broom, but even after a whole summer, the Firebolt still obeyed his every thought and touch. Storm clouds packed together above his head, and he was eerily reminded of the match against Hufflepuff in his third year, when he had nearly fallen to his death after being attacked by a Dementor.

He shook his head to clear the memory and hovered still for a moment before swaying to the right and dropping height. His stomach jolted as he saw the ground coming closer, and at the last moment, he spun away and upwards, a move he'd learnt from Viktor Krum. He laughed, knowing he was probably grinning like an idiot, but he didn't care, even if someone were to watch him. This was something he was born for, the thing he enjoyed most of all at Hogwarts, the thing he treasured above all in his life. Freedom.

XxX

With an adoring smile, Marvolo watched his lover from behind the trees. He'd just gotten back from his manor after drilling some sense in a couple of followers who had thought it necessary to take over control in his absence. Having sensed Harry's exuberance through the link they shared, he'd easily found the teen, and his heart had nearly stopped as he'd seen Harry speeding to the ground, pulling away only at the last second.

Gryffindors…

"Marvolo!" He looked up, and Harry flew towards him, stopping only at the last moment, smirking when having noticed the other flinch. Insufferable brat. His mouth twitched when the teen jumped into his arms, embracing him tightly. Perhaps not so insufferable after all.

"I didn't know you would be back this evening." He hummed and buried his head in the unruly raven hair that smelled like rain. "I missed you."

"Missed you too. Did you behave?"

"When do I not?" Harry cheekily replied, which earned him a soft slap on the head. "Alright, alright. I behaved as much as I do normally."

"Not very reassuring." Marvolo huffed, and changed the topic. "You are a good flier. I never had much with brooms myself, but I can see you're very talented."

"Thanks." Harry mumbled, blushing. "I'm the Gryffindor Seeker."

"Have you ever thought about playing on professional level?"

"Professional?" Harry asked, stunned. "I… I never gave it much thought. Before, I wanted to become an Auror, but… I have to say that constantly playing Quidditch is very appealing. I love flying so much…

"Then perhaps it is something you could think about." Marvolo smiled, carding his fingers through his lover's hair.

"Will do… Hmm… that feels good." The teen yawned and wrapped his arms around the man's waist, hugging him closer.

"We should go inside… it's late."

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, but gave no indication of having any desire to move.

"Come on... we can't sleep outside love."

"I know, I know… Giant spiders and werewolves out to hunt me and all that. Been there, done that, forest is a scary place."

"I will pretend to know what you are talking about."

"Good. You'd better change. Wouldn't want anyone seeing you out here like this."

With a sigh, Marvolo started his transformation. While it wasn't painful, he hadn't gotten used to the Metamorphmagus skills he had acquired yet. When he opened his eyes again, he was considerably shorter, and with distaste, he looked down at a fleshed out hand. Being in this body, while necessary, was not something he favoured. It was nice to fool people with it, but it reminded him too much of the body he had gotten rid of. The body that had linked him to his father… he quickly schooled his features when Harry gave him a questioning look.

"It's nothing." he said, and took Harry's hand. In silence, they went to the castle.

"Now you're back…" Harry finally whispered, and Marvolo felt the teen's fingers tighten around his own. "Does that mean I have to… I can…"

"Yes."

"When?"

"When you think you're ready."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be." the other whispered back, and right in front of the doors of Hogwarts, they stopped and turned to look out over the grounds surrounding the castle. Harry was not the only one who was going to miss this. But he'd return again... They would return. "Tomorrow I'll go. And when I have the memories, we can flee" Harry finally spoke, and when they looked at each other, Marvolo saw a determined glint in his love's eyes.

"You'll meet up with Eyolf right before going to Dumbledore's office?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, go back to Gryffindor tower then love… You are going to need your rest." Marvolo gave the teen a last tight hug, before Harry broke away and walked through the doors, while the Dark Lord took another way to the Room of Requirement that did not attract as much attention.

Harry be safe… be strong.


"What is this?" Harry asked, turning the ball he'd just gotten over in his hands.

"A device for neutralising defensive wards." the man replied in a gruff voice that clearly indicated that he should stop asking questions.

"Something like that exists?" he said nonetheless, surprised. "Why do people even bother warding stuff then? If anyone who has this can just touch their properties and walk into warded rooms…"

Eyolf looked at him as if he was an imbecile. "The reason that people ward their belongings, Potter, is to protect them."

"But-"

"No-one elsehas something akin to what you are holding now Potter." the assassin barked. "While not highly complex magic, using the energy in stones to manipulate magic is an art which has been forgotten by the average witch and wizard. Hardly anyone knows the effect they can have on our magic, if used right. The device in your hands is one of a kind, and if it had been mine, you can be assured that I would not have trusted it in the hands of someone as incapable as you."

After having given Eyolf the dirtiest look he could muster, Harry put the stone orb in the pocket of his robes. "Thank you for your ever so kind words."

"Aren't you going to ask who it is from?"

"Regardless of what you seem to think, I'm not a complete idiot. I'll thank him personally." Harry bit back. "I'm going. See you in the office." and with that, he spun around on his heel and briskly walked away.

He threw the invisibility cloak over his head and muffled his footsteps with a spell to not draw unwanted attention. He had purposely announced that he would head to bed early, while Ron and Hermione tried to keep his dorm mates in the common room by organizing a tournament of exploding snap. The Twins had suggested a tournament with toys they had developed themselves as advertisement, but even they had not been able to stand up to Hermione, who declared their not-yet-completely-tested toys as unsafe and irresponsible.

That Ron had agreed with her had probably more to do with the news concerning a letter Hermione had gotten from a certain Quidditch Seeker than his sense of responsibility. Fred and George had 'accidentally' spoken about while Ron was in the room.

Anyhow, he had transfigured some clothes till they could pass for him, -if nobody would inspect it up close-, and had flown out of the window on his broom with only his cloak, wand, map, and sleeping-powder doused bread. Should something go wrong, and he was not personally caught, he had an alibi.

Taking a deep breath, Harry went to the office, avoiding student and teacher alike. It was a strange feeling to walk around with his invisibility cloak on while there were still so many people in the castle. Usually he'd always snuck around past midnight. A warm calmness flooded through him suddenly, and he mentally thanked his lover, knowing Marvolo would hear him, even if Harry could not do the same. It eased him to know the man would be present, watching his every step. He hoped the link would grow stronger soon, so distance would not be a limit anymore to hear each other.

He stopped, almost having passed the stone gargoyle while he was sunken in thoughts. Nobody was watching him, but he still leaned down until his mouth was close to the ear of the statue.

"Pepper imps." he whispered, and he leaned back as the gargoyle jumped out of the way.

Warily, he looked over his shoulder, not wanting anyone to see the suddenly moving staircase, but after checking the map, he saw that there was truly no-one in sight. Harry practically ran up the stairs, not a very smart thing to do when said staircase was moving. He nearly fell on his face when it suddenly stopped while he was still running, but he managed to get hold of a pillar, carefully removing his fingerprints when he was steady again. It wouldn't do to leave evidence, and he'd spied Dudley enough times when the boy had watched detective movies. Harry had always wonderedwhy Dudley had watched those though… it was not as if his cousin was intelligent enough to actually understand more than half of the plot, if even that much.

With trembling fingers, he turned the handle, and the massive oak doors swung open effortlessly. The office was quiet, the only sounds being the soft snoring of some of the portraits and the soft tinkling of the several instruments that filled the shelves. Harry could hear his own heart drumming in his chest, and hoped it wasn't as noticeable to others as it was to himself. He took in the surroundings as he stepped in further, trying to look like the average nervous student who had been called to the headmaster's office as he wiped off the sweat on his hands on his robe. The portraits were nearly all asleep, and he released a soft relieved sigh when seeing that the rest did not pay him any attention. They probably couldn't be bothered by everyday life anymore after being dead for so long. Sudden, loud, tinkling noises startled him, and he warily eyed the fragile-looking golden globe on Dumbledore's desk that appeared to be the source of them.

Quickly, he took the small stone orb out of his pocket and went to the desk, pressing it briefly against the instrument, which seemed to calm down. He heard another sound, however, right above his head. His right hand tightened around his wand as a blur of red and gold flew past and landed on a golden perch.

"Hello Fawkes." he said, with a surprisingly steady voice. The bird cocked its head, gave a few melodious thrills and ruffled its feathers. With half an eye on the portraits, he snuck closer to the bird, searching his pocket until his fingers found the bread he'd gotten from the Twins. When he stood directly in front of the Phoenix, he held out his hand to the creature, hoping that Hermione had been right as ever when she said to recall that Phoenixes had the same diet as normal birds.

Fawkes did not move, but Harry could have sworn that the bird raised an eyebrow and gave him a disbelieving look. Aware of the numerous people on the walls, he bit the inside of his cheek. If the blasted bird wouldn't eat from the bread…

He should have made a plan B…

"Look, I brought you something." he said, getting desperate and feeling more stupid with each passing second.

The bird fidgeted on its perch, looking oddly frustrated as well, hopping from one leg on the other and glancing up to the wall behind Harry. Finally, Fawkes gave something akin to a suffering sigh, and dove at the breadcrumbs, swallowing them down in a few seconds. He ruffled his feathers once more and put his head under his wing, as if he was already preparing to sleep, though Harry knew it would take a minute before the sleeping powder would start doing its work. He eyed the Phoenix with suspicion, but apparently he was the only who thought anything weird was going on, as a quick glance at the portraits told him that the whole scene went unnoticed by the snoring men and women.

One of the portraits yawned loudly and turned over in her chair to snuggle deeper into it. Figuring it would be a bad idea to just stand here and do nothing; Harry finally fully drew his wand and tried to sneakily point it at the walls.

"Congelasco!" he whispered, and a nearly unnoticeable ripple went through the air, somehow turning it more rigid. He inspected his work for a moment, letting his eyes glide over each frame, but there was a clear difference. Not a single streak of paint moved, no sound was to be heard anymore, and for a moment, Harry got a flashback of the headmaster's office at his primary school, where Muggle paintings had lined the walls.

Turning to the windows, he opened the curtains with a spell. He watched as Eyolf gracefully heaved himself up, unlocked the windows, and clambered into the office. It was only when his feet hit the floor that Harry concluded that the man had no muffling spell on him, even though he had made absolutely no sound at all before. He got a strange feeling when realizing he would no longer see Eyolf once he was gone from Hogwarts. Despite the hated lessons and general dislike, Harry was sure he'd miss the sarcastic comments, unexpected advice and the brief glimpses of who Eyolf could have been if the Assassins Guild would not have 'chosen' and trained him.

"Any difficulties?" the man said, giving Harry piercing stare with his harsh, grey eyes. "It took longer than I thought.

"Fawkes didn't want to take the bait for a moment, but he is finally asleep."

"Bait?"

"Sleeping powder."

It was silent for a moment, but he could deduce from the disbelief on the other's face that his teacher did not like his method. "Sleeping powder? You chose to knock the blasted animal out with a method that could have failed if the bird had refused to take it?"

"Ehhhhh…" Harry said, gulping. "It worked?"

"At least you managed to freeze the meddling paintings properly…" Eyolf muttered, but right at that moment, a voice spoke up.

"Could you two hurry up? I know Albus left, but I checked the Order's headquarters, and it will not take long before he realizes that Fudge has no meeting planned with him at all. Knowing Fudge, Albus won't be able to escape without at least drinking a polite cup of tea, but still, you never know what the old goat has planned." Frozen, Harry looked up to the wall, seeing one of the portraits sneer at him. "Well?"

"I... excuse me... but who are you?"

"Who I am? Students these days! Not even the least ounce of respect! I am Phineas Nigellus Black, former headmaster of Hogwarts, and you had better not forget it!"

A quick check on the other paintings told Harry that the rest of them were still no more than unmoving pieces of canvas and paint. "And how…"

"You are an interesting young man Potter... when I first saw you I thought you were a snot-nosed little bootlicker of Albus, but it appears you have more character. It seems you have seen the right way, so give my greetings to the current Dark Lord… such a shame that my worthless great-great grandson believes Albus like the stupid mutt he is… that a noble family like mine could ever bring forth such scum is-"

"I tried asking a question." Harry said, suddenly a whole lot colder. That he knew Sirius would never support his relationship with Marvolo did not mean that anyone could just go around slandering his name.

"Fine. I ducked out of the painting and moved to my other frame. Though really, did youhave to freeze this one?" the Slytherin sneered as he fruitlessly tried to lift the glass of wine in his portrait. "I am in serious need for a good drink."

"Are there any other portraits gone?" Eyolf asked.

"A few, but they have their main paintings elsewhere and only visit here when called by the current headmaster. Oh, Fawkes wanted me to tell you that the Sorting Hat needed to speak to you. Stupid bird can't do anything himself."

"Fawkes?"

"You don't really think he would eat something so obviously suspicious, do you? Some here are disapproving of the Albus' methods, so Fawkes tried to communicate with me in the headquarters. Show-off, with his drawing letters in the air with fire… I believe the sorting hat acts like some sort of spokesperson for him…"

"This could be a trap…" Harry mumbled, and Eyolf leaned against the desk, sighing deeply.

"You mucked upso much Potter."

"Well I'm not one for making plans! I mostly improvise but it all worked out fine till now, eh?"

"That attitude is going to get you killed… luckily you will not be my problem anymore tomorrow. Oh blessed independence. Now, give me that stone so I can cancel the wards on the memories."

Harry handed him the stone, but didn't listen to any of Eyolf's further muttering and walked to the Sorting Hat, deciding to take the risk.

"Wise choice."A whispery voice said in his mind when the Hat touched his head."Now, listen carefully. Albus has made many mistakes, and his biggest mistake is that he made most of those on purpose. Many occupants of Hogwarts can see through his lies. Ghosts, portraits, yes, even some house-elves are no longer loyal to him. Take his memories and in time, use those to fuel the fire of rebellion within these walls. I see your thoughts, your memories and your plans, but no matter what happens or what you will find in Albus' mind, try to convince the Dark Lord that the fool must stay alive for a while still. I have seen the minds of millions of people throughout the ages, seen the minds of every single person who currently works at the Ministry, and you can be certain of one thing. If Albus dies, the Ministry will recognize that Voldemort is back and throw up its defenses. However, now, they still see the senile man who is trying to revive a ghost of the past who is long dead."

"But the war will be open in a few days..." Harry protested. "They will see that he is back anyways, and then the Ministry and Dumbledore can combine their forces."

"No, listen… if you go after Dumbledore first, then the war cannot break out yet, and by the time Albus is killed, the ministry will have enough forces to fend you off. But now, they are still weak, and your army is strong. Deal with the Ministry first... even if Dumbledore can use that time to grow stronger, your power will grow beyond imagination once you have seized control over the government and press."

"I understand. One question... I always thought that Fawkes was loyal to Dumbledore. Hasn't he been the headmaster's familiar for years? Why is he helping me, and thus the Dark, as well?"

"Fawkes... please don't call him that… it's a pet name Albus gave him and he doesn't quite like it. Apparently it's the name of some Muggle terrorist. His real name is Eldur Vaen. Eldur for friends. "

Right. Trust Dumbledore to name a highly intelligent magical creature after a Muggle.

"It is true that his loyalty was bound. He used to be the familiar of Grindelwald, but after Albus won the famous battle, he tied Eldur to him. Thankfully, as a safety measure in case anything like this were to happen, to secure his own freedom, the phoenix had shed two tail feathers right before becoming Grindelwald's familiar. Grindelwald gave these to Dumbledore after that happened, an invaluable gift to try and restore the peace between the two of them that had been broken the summer before. It did not work, but what Eldur had intended when he shed those feathers did. Dumbledore accepted the gift and was delighted by it, even though he never had the intention to restore the bond he and Grindelwald once had. He brought them to Ollivander, to whom he owed a favour at the time. And so, two wands were made. Two brother wands, who in time, would choose two people who were worthy of wielding them. After Grindelwald's deafeat and Dumbledore 'freeing' Eldur, as he called it, the phoenix was enslaved to the man, hoping the wands would be chosen soon. From the moment Tom Riddle's hand touched the wood which held a piece of Eldur, a bond was formed. However, it was incomplete for years, and Eldur still had to serve Albus. But then the second wand was chosen…"

"By me." Harry whispered.

"Indeed."

"So then, Eldur was free?"

"Pitifully, Fate is cruel to those who try to influence their own lives by involving others. As you know, Tom Riddle, who had changed his name to Voldemort, was a mere spirit at the time, and had lost the connection with his wand. As such, the bond was broken again, and when the other wand chose you, there was still no more than half a bond. The other half, this time. Eldur has only recently been freed, on the moment Voldemort was resurrected."

"Potter! Are you still going to stand there for a long time?" Someone interrupted, and Harry's head shot up until his eyes met Eyolf, who was already putting the flasks containing Dumbledore's memories back in the rack and removing every sign that they had been touched.

"I... I don't know… Are you done copying those already?"

"Of course… you've been talking for minutes already! If Phineas was right, then you'd better hurry."

"If I was right?If?" said man protested. "Now listen here, I-"

The rest of his words were drowned out by the Sorting Hat, who began to speak again. "I won't hold you up much longer then. The only things I still have to tell you are that the link you have with the Dark Lord is not only established through his Horcrux in you, but also because of your wands and your mutual connection to Eldur. I see you cast the phenomenon known as Priori Incantatem… because of this, not only your mind but also your magic can flow freely through both your bodies. The only thing you do not share is a body… although I can also see that at times, you do…" Harry blushed fiercely at the suggestive tone.

"Shut up!"

"Ah, Harry, you have no idea what a relief it is to see your mind after years of being put on the head of innocent first-years. I'm sure the scarf would agree…"

"What scarf?" Harry asked, puzzled

"Nevermind that now." The Hat answered, sounding as if he were far away, thinking about something else. "First the Ministry, then Dumbledore. Remember that, yes? If you need to talk to me again, go to the Order's Headquarters, and let Phineas know that you want to speak me. He can alert Eldur, who can bring me to you."

Harry mentally sighed. It was bloody complicated, trying to arrange a talk with an enchanted object.

"Oh, and something else: Try to replace the sword of Gryffindor with a fake as quickly as possible. It's one of the few things that can kill Horcruxes. Albus has not placed me upon his head for a long time, so I do not know his every thought, but from what I have gathered from him muttering to himself, there's a chance that he knows of the Horcruxes. If he doesn't yet, then he'll quickly figure it out."

"Really, thank you for all your advice. It has been most helpful."

"I'm only doing what my master, the good Godric, would have wanted me to. He followed Merlin's ideals, which are quite close to Voldemort's ideals now. Well then, I hope to speak to you soon, Harry. You have a very interesting mind indeed. Now, one tiny last thing… Itoldyou you would have been better off in Slytherin."

"Goodbye." Harry said, his eye twitching at the smug tone, and he plucked the Hat off his head, putting him on his shelf again. "Right." He said, turning to Eyolf. "That was very enlightening. I'm ready to go now though."

"Great." The other said, narrowing his eyes at the teen. "If I ever get the task to baby-sit you again, Potter, remind me to not take the job. Or at the very least, remind me to never leave the planning toyou."

The next hour went by in a blur. Erasing all traces in Dumbledore's office, sprinting to the Room of Requirements to meet up with Marvolo, who shrunk the bag with memories and placed them in a pocket of his robe, flying back to Gryffindor tower to take his packed stuff and Arzón –who did not like being woken from his beauty-sleep- and go back again… Harry's head spun, and he thought the stress was finally getting to him. Now he thought about it, he hadn't even properly said goodbye to most of his friends. No matter, there were more important things right now.

He met Marvolo again in the Room of Requirement and watched with sadness as the man transfigured the room back to what it had been before: an empty space, ready to be formed. Every trace of the room Harry had come to love, with its dark green tapestries, half-translucent curtains hanging all through the room and the magical window with its amazing view, disappeared. Slowly, every personal touch of Marvolo was gone, and it finally dawned upon him that they would really be leaving, and that it was going to be a long time before he would be at Hogwarts again. And even when he would come back, nothing would be the same… other courses, other students, other teachers… his heart clenched, and he buried his face in Marvolo's chest as the man wrapped an arm around him, squeezing his shoulder.

"I know it's hard, leaving here." His lover whispered. "I felt the same after I graduated, even though that was not as abrupt as this. But Hogwarts will always feel like home, no matter how long it takes for you to be able to return. You can trust me on that."

Immensely grateful for the man's presence and sympathy, Harry finally drew away and inhaled briefly. "I guess this is it then… where are Fred and George?"

"They will arrive soon. I just called them through the Mark, and I suppose they need a few minutes before they can excuse themselves and come this way. Also, I assume they want to say goodbye to Ronald, the only family member they can say goodbye to…"

In silence, they waited, and Harry leaned against the other, almost automatically connecting their minds so their feelings were one. Even when the Twins finally entered, he did not release either Marvolo or the link. A millisecond long, Harry saw Fred and George bow through another perspective than his own eyes before it was gone, and surprise flooded through their shared connection from both ends. The teen smiled, wondering how much further their mind-link could be explored.

Finally, Harry reached for the hand of one of the Twins, who gratefully took it and threw a pitying look at his brother, who was forced to take Marvolo's hand in one of his.

"Let's go."


"So these are the memories…" Marvolo said, looking at the flask in his fingers, which he held up against the light to have a better look at it. "I wonder what we will find here. 1899, su. AD & GG. I can guess what this one is about… it also has a few scribbled signs on the label, but I can't decipher them. It's probably some sort of personal system to have a general view on the details."

"What do you think it contains?"

"Memories in relation to Gellert Grindelwald… 1899, summer… They used to be friends... more than friends, even. There are eleven flasks with this label, the greatest amount of memories of the same time period. I know they met at the start of summer, and broke apart two months later. This one could be from anywhere in between those months."

"How many flasks are there?"

"More than three hundred."

"WHAT?" Harry exclaimed. "When are we ever going to watch all that!

"Now. However, we will start with all the flasks that are labeled with TR, in chronological order."

"And how many are that…?"

"Only a few. Six, to be exact. I imagine one is of his first meeting with me, and another of the day I tried to get a position here. I have no idea about the others…"

Harry shrugged and sat down on the couch, looking at the Pensieve. "Then let's find out."

Marvolo's predictions came true, but it shocked Harry that Dumbledore had so many memories other than his own. When they emerged from the Pensieve after having watched the fourth memory, he took in his lover's grim expression and said: "It's almost as if he started collecting memories of you. The first two were his own, but then… the memory of that Ministry worker confronting your granddad and the memory of your Uncle… they're not something he would have gotten if he hadn't explicitly searched for it, right?"

"The one of my Uncle... perhaps. I know Dumbledore visited him in Azkaban, right before Morfin died. He was convinced that I had killed my father and grandparents, and probably wanted to search proof for that in Morfin's memory. I hadn't thought he would actually get this information though… The second memory surprises me though. I hadn't thought he would deem me receiving the Award for Special Services to the school worthy of remembering so clearly."

"He knew Hagrid was innocent, and that you had framed him… it's probably the reason why. Right, two more to go… luckily they're short. I hope the rest is like this as well."

A new memory was poured into the bowl and after looking at each other once, they delved in again to see the remaining two memories. When they were back in the room after seeing the fifth, Marvolo's face had hardened considerably.

"Whatwas that?"

"That was my old potions professor. He is the one who told me that it is possible to split my soul into seven pieces. I assume that he was ashamed of the memory and tried to modify it himself. As you can see, it has been done poorly. I certainly hope Dumbledore has not gotten his hands on the real version. If he has, I will have to kill him first, no matter what that Hat told you."

"Only one way to find out…" Harry said with worry, eyeing the innocent-looking flask, the last full one with TR on the label.

Relief flooded him when the trip into the Pensieve was over. It had been the memory Marvolo had described earlier, from the time he had applied for the position of DADA professor. "So he doesn't know."

"Indeed, and he hasn't found another vital memory either."

"A memory of what?"

"The time I acquired two objects which I would turn into a Horcrux… And as I have removed them from the places I used to store them, Dumbledore's last memory is worthless as well. I hid one of the Horcruxes in the Room of Requirement after the job interview was finished, but it's obviously no longer here."

"What are they?"

"Didn't I tell you about my Horcruxes?" Marvolo asked with surprise clear in his voice.

"You... didn't get very far with telling me about them… you started with the diary, and then…" Harry hesitated, ashamed by how weak he had been, crying and fainting over the fact that he'd killed the diary. Of course, he still hated that he had done it, but rationally, he hadn't had a choice back then, other than let himself be killed.

"Ah, I see…the objects I spoke about are Hufflepuff's cup and Ravenclaw's diadem. Two legendary objects of the founders of Hogwarts. My other Horcruxes are Slytherin's ring and locket, both of which you saw in the memories… They were my family heirlooms, so I went after those first, but Hogwarts has always been my first home, and as I was the heir of one of the founders, I felt like the other objects belonged to me as well. As far as I know, there are no other direct heirs alive"

"Not?"

"None that I have met… or perhaps they just don't know it themselves. I am quite sure the Hufflepuff line died out ages ago though. I'm not too sure about Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. I do have a suspicion that the Gryffindor heir may be alive, but I would have to research my theory before I can be certain."

"I wonder who my ancestors are…" Harry mumbled.

"I don't know. I never researched the Potter line. You could ask for a blood test in Gringotts."

"The bank?" Harry asked, surprised. "Isn't it more something for a hospital?"

"I don't mean the bank. Or well, I do, but I meant it as the only place you could find out, not because the building is a bank. Goblins are one of the few beings who are still very good with blood magic, and thus, on top of their banking service, they also provide several blood rituals for people who can pay them enough."

"What would be their price? I'm curious, but not curious enough to give away my whole vault."

"I can assure you that you have more than enough for it… Their price mostly consists of goblin-made items that got into the hands of wizards, plus a sum of gold, but nothing you can't easily pay them. The Potters are an old, rich family. Now, enough chatting. We still have about 300 memories to see."

Harry groaned. They were in for a long night.


Dear Diary,

I feel like a phase of my life has ended. For a little over four years, I found home in Hogwarts. Now, I can no longer return there. I must admit that I am afraid for what the future will bring. Eyolf's words about war still ring clearly though my head. It is like a storm is coming, and I can find no shelter anywhere as the thunder begins. A gloomy comparison perhaps, but a true one.

Marvolo, on the other hand, seems quite excited. I know he's waited for this moment for years, but I can't share his current feelings. Does it make me a bad person? That I want to curl up and stay in bed until it's all over, while I should stand by his side and support him with all I have? Perhaps tomorrow I will feel different. Spitting through Dumbledore's memories has exhausted me, and the only reason I'm not sleeping yet is because my mind was keeping me awake with all these thoughts.

There are also good things to be said about leaving Hogwarts, of course… We're in the manor again, and I can finally spend every night with Marvolo again, without seeking excuses or waking up alone in Gryffindor tower. There are no more classes, there's no more homework. – Thank Merlin, I would have never made the deadline for Charms in time –

I don't know what exactly has been planned for the coming weeks. It sucks that I can't use magicagainbecause of the stupid Trace. I'll have to ask Marvolo if he has any way to remove it…
Oh, he calls… I thought he was sleeping.

Well then, let's just wait and see what tomorrow will bring.


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xx GeMerope