Thank you to Roofuls and Yasmania for beta-reading / plotting help, and to enoby_w for helping me coin the black hole spell's incantation.

.oOo.

Sherrinford "Sherry" Holmes, AKA Aries Black, AKA the ex Dark Lord Voldemort

.oOo.

Sherry did not struggle adjusting to Hogwarts' daily life. The children were boring, the classes were boring, and the politics were boring—but Sherry hadn't come to Hogwarts for an education.

Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald were in a constant state of underhanded warfare, and it was delightful to watch.

They put on a lovely facade at mealtimes, passing each other platters with excessively friendly pomp. They greeted each other in hallways, showing a level of familiarity that shouldn't exist between a first-time hire and a venerated headmaster.

Sherry had watched and waited like an adder in the grass for the right time to come, then he'd struck.

Unfortunately, both Gellert and Albus had turned him away, but that just spurred Sherry on more. It was embarrassing enough that a man such as Harry could take over Britain from within when Lord Voldemort had not succeeded after decades of increasingly violent attempts at a coup d'état.

If Sherry couldn't successfully sabotage this singular relationship between these excessively annoying Lords, he might as well hang up his wand above the mantle at home. Or he could toss it into the sea in an abandoned cave. At least his failure would be in good company there. The waters would still be teaming with all the inferi Lord Voldemort had made while trying to get the damned enchantment right.

Sherry's first attempts to meddle with the ongoing war had been juvenile. He'd put itching powder in Gellert's robes. A slaughtered chicken and a pentagram at the door to Albus' quarters. An order to the kitchen elves to serve only Gellert's least favourite foods at the staff table. A ward that unenchanted Albus' garish robes every time he entered the great hall.

Delightfully, the public interactions between the two men were getting increasingly stiff. Either they had talked about their suspicions and been met only with denials, or they were slowly tallying up every assumed slight until it'd all boil over into a fight. No matter what, they'd already dismissed everyone else as the culprit of their own misery.

Sherry had shown himself to be a hard worker and an occasional prankster, but the thing about being a child was that nobody took him seriously as a threat.

Well, Dumbledore might have had his suspicions back when he'd been teaching Tom Riddle transfiguration, but he still had the same mistake of ego which so many great men were prone to.

According to the Headmaster, only a man who thought himself Albus' equal would dare to initiate this conflict. Meanwhile, the only man Gellert could even think of was the lover who'd spurned him a century ago. They were too wrapped up in each other to perceive him, and they were going to regret ever making a fool of Sherrinford Holmes.

It all came to a head on the first day of the Easter break. Gellert had timed the release of Skeeter's book perfectly. When else but on a week long holiday would people have time to read?

Sherry was sitting at the table that had been designated inter-house for the holiday. The teachers still had their staff table on their dais, but the house elves had an easier time feeding the clusters of students that inevitably formed along what would normally be the Hufflepuff table. Not that it mattered at eight on a Saturday morning, where the only people having breakfast were Sherry and some Hufflepuffs he didn't care about.

The Prophet had printed their final article in the series that had pulled Albus Dumbledore's reputation thoroughly through the mud. Sherry's pre-ordered copy of The Life and Lies was open on the table in front of him. The sandwich he'd assembled for himself sat abandoned to one side.

Vaguely, Sherry noticed the hall growing louder with the noises of the few dozen people still at the school. There was a rise in muttering that caused Sherry to glance up. He watched Dumbledore take his seat, then watched him pale with fury when Minerva handed him the paper. She had been avidly reading the same poisonous green hardcover as Sherry.

On Albus' other side, Severus looked like he was enjoying the drama. For all that he owed Dumbledore a debt, that favour had been lorded over his head too often. Any gratitude the man had felt must have faded to bitterness long ago.

Sherry turned back to his book. Bathilda Bagshot was just getting into the juicy details of the Ariana-Gellert-Albus-Aberforth battle. Truly, Skeeter had managed to get the best out of the interview. Sherry nodded vaguely when someone sitting next to him mumbled a 'goodbye' and left.

Something felt off. Sherry listened to the way the room had gone quiet. He set down his book and reached for his sandwich before the elves magiced away the remnants of breakfast.

But, there were a lot of students still around. Ergo, it was not the end of breakfast, ergo their silence was due to Gellert Grindelwald coming in. Sherry twisted in his seat and there he was, striding from the side entrance towards the head of the table Sherry had so thoughtfully prepared with a handful of eavesdropping charms.

"How dare you," Albus said when Gellert sat down in Severus' vacated seat.

Ah, yes, a classic opener. Sherry smirked and joined the dozen students watching the conflict out of the corner of their eyes.

"I have no idea what you are speaking about."

Sherry snorted. Albus' face was flushed with feeling, though he'd lowered his voice to a whisper. "Is nothing sacred to you?" He held up the book Minerva had left behind.

At this point, none of the students were bothering to pretend. They stared outright at the unfolding scene of two respected figures having a catfight. Sherry wanted to cackle so, so badly.

Gellert leaned back in his chair, becoming calmer the more Albus raged. "Do you not think it is time for them to know the truth?" He gestured vaguely at the gawking students, but Albus seemed too wrapped up in his fury to care.

"This, this will ruin me," he said. "It will be the end of my political career. It might lose me the position as headmaster."

"Is that so?" Gellert's grin grew wider. "I would say, it is the minimum that you deserve. A Nurmengard cell would be too good for you, but a fall? Anyone can fall, my old friend. All it would take is an outcry. A body dug up from the ground. The aurors have much better spells now, you know."

"She deserves to rest." Albus was spitting the words out from between clenched teeth. "And how do you know it wasn't you? Her death is on your conscience just as much as ours."

"You see," Gellert said, picking at his fingernails with a knife, "the thing about being in my situation is, I have nothing much to lose. You, on the other hand," he waved again, this time at Albus' non-twinkling robes.

Albus drew his wand. Someone a few seats over gasped, so Sherry shushed them.

Another student demonstrated their idiocy by announcing, "I wish we knew what they were saying."

"Silence," Sherry hissed. Gellert had drawn his wand too and was accusing Albus of being jealous over Ernie.

"—never know the love of a child—"

"You!" Albus said, standing abruptly, "you're a madman. A sociopath, a narcissist, you've never known any kind of love at all!"

As if he was entirely unbothered, Gellert took a sip from his goblet and got out of his seat. "By your own definitions, wouldn't I be experiencing love for myself?"

Sherry laughed outright, then clamped his mouth shut.

"Black, what's wrong with you," someone said, and the first spells were already flying before Sherry could retort.

"Protego," Sherry cast. He grew the shield over all of the students he could see. Most had very sensibly ducked under the table, though a single prefect was walking towards the duel. "Accio Gryffindor," Sherry cast, dragging the idiotic girl back.

"You," Sherry said, "Be clever about playing the hero. These children need your help."

A firstie started crying, as if for dramatic effect. Sherry felt something bounce off his shield, and strengthened it.

"What do I do?" said the idiot.

Honestly, did Sherry need to do everything himself? "Come closer, everyone. Under the shield. To me, to me."

Sherry put down the sandwich he was still holding, then tossed back the last of his pumpkin juice. Frowning in concentration, he tapped his wand on the useless Gryffindor, transfering the shield to her. It'd drain the girl's mediocre magic fast, so she'd better start walking quickly.

"Students, you must stay close to the prefect as she guides you out. Do not dither. Your very lives depend on it." Then he disillusioned himself, and put on his invisibility cloak on top.

The firstie started crying harder. The Gryffindor took her by the hand and gave the direction Sherry had been a firm nod. The dozen other students thankfully did not protest, filing dutifully out.

Sherry gripped his wand harder and moved towards the duel that had expanded to the entire front half of the hall. A stray spell had already hit the ceiling, breaking the enchantment that had taken the founders Merlin knew how many hours to imbue.

A growing dark mist, likely an Invertus Nebulai, was sucking up a flock of bats transfigured from candles. Albus' beard was on fire. Sherry stepped closer, still not sure whose side of the battle he was going to join. He couldn't let Gellert win Albus' copy of Harry's unbeatable wand, but neither could he join forces with a Light Lord—it went against his very nature.

Perhaps, once they wore each other down, he could defeat one, then the other. There was a prophecy involved. He had to vanquish the Dark Lord.

But Sherry knew Dark Magic when he saw it, and he wasn't going near that magical black hole until Gellert was properly in proper control of it.

Albus seemed to have realised the same thing, stepping back and casting more transfigurations on the benches, the plates, even the house banners.

While he was distracted, Sherry raised his wand, ready to cast an Expelliarmus or a Stupefy, but then Albus looked right at him as if he could see through Death's cloak.

Sherry's instinct said to dodge, which he did. The magenta bone-breaker whizzed just over his head. Ducking and weaving and also furious, Sherry pointed his wand at Gellert's stupid black hole spell with a strong Imperio. Despite Albus being a Headmaster rather than a dueller for forty years, his spells had herded Sherry right at that expanding mess.

Gellert noticed Sherry's interference immediately, fought control for a second, then turned back to his original nemesis. Sherry crouched behind a transfigured stone that protected him from the worst while he pulled the black hole together, smaller and smaller until it vanished with a pop and the smell of ozone.

He'd been in one place for too long. Sherry ducked and rolled, not caring if his legs showed. Albus and Gellert were busy with each other, as they'd been from the start.

The next bone-breaker hit his left forearm. Sherry screamed, shut his mouth, and ran zig-zag towards the door.

Fuck Dark Lords. Fuck Light Lords. Fuck vanquishing. Fuck them, fuck this.

He slipped on a stupid gilded fork and had to choose what to fall on—broken arm or wand arm?—he chose wrong. His nose was bleeding, or maybe it was tears that were streaming down his face, but either way it was getting hard to think, think, think!

A numbing charm on his left arm. A second numbing charm. Then a third. Sherry clenched his teeth and healed the break the best he could while his eyes were still swimming.

What was it Luna had said? If he didn't vanquish his Dark Lord, there'd be a civil war. And he'd been wanting to murder Albus Dumbledore since 1940. If Sherry didn't do it now, he could hardly still call himself the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Adjusting the cloak and strengthening his disillusionment, Sherry stood to face the raging battle.

Albus' beard was on fire again. Gellert had cast another Invertus Nebulai. Sherry wanted to scream.

There had to be something more useful than open combat. He turned for the hall's doors, not sure if he was hoping the prefect had barred them in or not.

Sherry watched as one of the doors opened just wide enough for a person to step through. A Gryffindor, it had to be, because Snape would have been sensible enough to disillusion himself first.

Wiping his stinging eyes on his sleeve, Sherry limped over.

He blinked. "Harry?"

The Gryffindor turned. He wasn't even wearing battle-armour, just a dove grey three-piece that had belonged to Mycroft before Harry had nicked it.

Oh, and he was also wearing the Sorting Hat. There was no wand in his hand. He wasn't even wearing a cloak, so when Harry rushed towards Sherry there wasn't any kind of heroic billow.

"Sherry, are you alright?"

Something crashed at the front of the room, and Sherry didn't care. "Never better," he said, wiping the fresh tears from his face. "I take it you've come to rescue me? Because I didn't need—"

"No, you idiot." Harry handed over a vial of Wiggenwald's potion and an all-purpose healing potion. "I came because it's Easter, and we missed you."

"I believe," said the hat, "that your guilty conscience has finally moved you to return me to these halls."

Sherry smiled a bit. Probably, it had been Mycroft at the kitchen table who had threatened to donate the hat to Mummy Holmes if it didn't shut up.

Together, they turned towards the mess at the front of the room. Albus had cast some light magic equivalent to Fiendfyre, which was finally burning through Gellert's second, or possibly third, Invertus Nebulai. Gellert, meanwhile, was being attacked by animated crockery. The tea being poured onto him appeared to be quite hot.

"Oh dear," said the sorting hat.

Sherry swallowed and raised his wand. His left arm felt a bit better already. "Since you're here," he said to Harry, "would you help me out with the vanquishing?"

Harry's hand on his good shoulder felt solid and right. "Son, you just needed to ask. What was the saying, hat? Help is always given to those at Hogwarts who seek it? Ow! Damn it, not again!"

The hat was flung unceremoniously to the floor. In Harry's hand, he was wielding not his Olive wand, not the Elder, but a ridiculously elaborate sword.

It didn't look practical. Albus and Gellert had also finally noticed them, thanks to Harry's extremely flashy choice of weapon.

Gellert had to return swiftly to defending himself from rampant cutlery, but Albus' brows were wide and his lips grim with fury. He cast the magenta bone-breaker wordlessly, and fast.

Sherry jumped out of the way, but he didn't have to. Harry had shouted "Expelliarmus!" casting either wandlessly or with the sword as a conduit. Several beams of light shot at Albus, slicing through the man's shield in a way that was impossible to dodge. Albus fell onto his back. The remaining three of them watched the Elder Wand sail through the air into Harry's outstretched hand. "Ha!" Harry cried, grinning widely.

Gellert smiled. "Thank you, my heroes. It is a good day to be famil—"

Harry shot off a stunner that hit him point-blank in the chest. He stabbed the sword into the floorboards, drew his normal Olive-and-phoenix wand and went to work securing both Albus and Gellert according to his Auror training.

Sherry sat on the floor where he'd stood. It wasn't dignified, but he didn't have much dignity worth preserving anyway. His head felt like cotton, and his shoulder was aching again through the numbing charm. He swallowed his protest as Harry walked up and snapped Albus' copy of the Elder wand right under the man's crooked nose.

A beat later, the cavalry arrived. McGonagall, the outline of a disillusioned Snape, and four Aurors crashed in through the main doors. Mad-Eye Moody did his name true justice, coming in silently through the antechamber door.

"You're a bit late," Harry called cheerfully. "It's all taken care of. You'll be able to charge these two with thirteen cases of child endangerment, gross negligence, and a few counts of illegal spellcasting if you use Priori Incantatem. It should be enough to lock them away for a good long time." He handed the snapped wand to Moody, having already put it in a zip-lock plastic bag.

Sherry watched as his sworn enemies were carted off. He thought he should feel relieved, but mostly he felt tired. There were stupid tears in his eyes again, likely from the acrid smoke.

"We'll need you to answer some questions," someone said, but Harry walked right past them towards Sherry.

"Who will be headmaster now?" someone else was asking.

"You have a deputy headmistress, don't you?" Harry shook his head. "Honestly, you're acting as if this hasn't been written on the wall for the past year."

Harry stopped in front of where Sherry was still sitting and reached out a hand. "Come on then, let's get you healed up." He smiled and pulled Sherry to his feet. "We should try to get home in time for supper, yeah? Wouldn't want to keep our family waiting."

.oOo.

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