Black Luminary

by YakAge

The war against the Dark Lord was the last straw. The oppressed, fed up with oligarchy, corruption, and injustice, sharpened their knives, rallying behind those who promised change. They won. Today, Magical Britain is a changed country – for the better. Hail and praise to our saviours! Finally, all is well. But listen! Can't you hear the grindstone turning still ...?

28. VoD: Key

Key

---

Harry stared numbly at the tapestry of the House of Black. Every so often, his eyes sought the last entry of the main family branch – his own. In the past, it had always served to amuse him that he was the only living person to be featured twice on the ancient family tree, the only other recent person being pitiable Walburga Black, who had been forced to marry her second cousin out of necessity. With the Blacks vanishing from the face of the earth after the whole Grindelwald disaster, there had been literally no other option that wouldn't have endangered the integrity of any of their hidden branches.

For a second, his eyes lingered on a very specific name that was featured on the tapestry at about his own height. He felt slightly nauseous.

He truly understood the necessity of that particular time-proven custom, now more so than ever before, but that didn't help alleviate the bad taste it left in his mouth. He'd met most of them at one point or another, and none had struck him as particularly unhappy, but he couldn't help but wonder if some of them weren't secretly wrought up. They were family, true, but there was also no denying the point that they were, to some extent, servants of the main branch. Slaves, some might claim, not totally without reason.

'Should've known you'd be hiding in here.'

Harry turned his head just enough to spot his aunt leaning against the frame, her expression unaccustomedly pensive. He didn't answer.

When Bellatrix realised that Harry wasn't in the mood for idle chatter, she slowly approached, staring at the wall in front of Harry. 'I wish I could see it,' she mumbled longingly. 'Where am I?'

Harry wordlessly pointed towards the entry labelled 'Bellatrix Lestrange', and his aunt softly caressed the wall roughly where he'd pointed at, missing her name only by an inch.

'I knew it was a mistake to let you go see the Mudblood,' she said eventually. 'Why did you even bother trying to explain?'

'She is rather smart and not yet predisposed to hate us.'

Bellatrix scoffed dismissively. 'She's still just a little Mudb-'

'And I'm just a little half-blood,' Harry calmly interrupted his aunt.

'Don't say that! It's different!' Bellatrix growled, annoyed.

'How so?' Harry resumed his inspection of the tapestry, though his eyes failed to take anything in, not that he didn't know the whole thing by heart for at least five centuries in any case.

'You've grown up in the real world, and you know our customs, our traditions. You were still of Black descent even before your adoption!'

'So, what if I took in a Muggle-born baby and raised it in the old way? How would it be different from any pure-blood?'

His aunt growled again. 'Don't test me, Harry! Blood is blood.' After a while, she said, 'How about we forget this nonsense and get back to doing something tangible? You still haven't managed to learn any of the curses I showed you.'

'Maybe later,' he replied without any enthusiasm.

Bellatrix sighed and patted his head twice, turning around to leave. 'Did you really kill the Ministry owl?' she asked when she'd reached the door.

'I did,' Harry answered lackadaisically.

Bellatrix cackled with glee. 'Well, try to cheer up. I'll leave you alone for today, but we will resume your training tomorrow. What I actually wanted to tell you was that Arcturus has returned. He's currently at the Ministry, sorting out the mess you brought about. I expect him to return either tonight or tomorrow.'

Harry nodded apathetically.

'Well, I'll see you tomorrow.'

He heard her opening the door. 'Auntie?' he croaked after a second of hesitation.

'Yes?' she answered immediately, turning around to face him once more.

'Would you, if Arcturus asked it of you, offer yourself and your children up for The Oath?'

Bellatrix blinked once, but her response still seemed to come at the speed of light. 'I would.'

'Why?'

'I was born a Black. Even if I had to take on the name of my husband, nobody can take that from me. But my children are different. I know you treat them as cousins, and maybe even your children will consider my grandchildren family. But for how long? The Oath would be the only means to ensure that they'll remain Blacks in all but name.'

'But the terms...' he interposed with a look of worry.

'Wouldn't force me to do anything I wasn't willing to do voluntarily in the first place,' she stated firmly. 'You're making this needlessly complicated. They're family, aren't they?'

'They are.'

'Then what's your problem? As head of the family, Arcturus could order you or me around, just the same. They should be glad to belong!'

Harry mulled over her words long after she'd gone. It wasn't long until, seeking comfort, his eyes sought the tapestry once again, the gears of his mind ever grinding.

~BLVoD~

Harry carefully aimed his wand at the puppet and concentrated with all his might on the incantation – but nothing happened. Frustrated, he gave his wand a shake.

'How can you fail with a simple Piercing Curse but manage to successfully create a Portkey on your first try, despite only knowing the theory?' Bellatrix asked with a sneer. 'Most fully qualified wizards need months to get it done, and you just whip out your wand and do it. This curse is child's play in comparison. Try it again, just like this!' She slashed her wand with a subtle downwards arc to the left. A dull jet of blue light shot out of her wand, piercing through the abdomen of the horrified puppet and the wall behind it.

Harry, fighting down the urge to retch, copied her movements, aiming at the heart of the screaming non-being. His wand gave a slight jerk, but nothing else happened.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, flicking her wand absent-mindedly to silence the hysterical cries of their target. 'Maybe you should try shouting the spell? Non-verbal doesn't seem to work out with offensive magic for you.'

Harry looked at her as if she'd suggested that he should go back to producing sparks with his wand. Still, deciding that it might be worth a shot, he slashed his wand even more fiercely, forcing as much power and intent behind his actions as he could. 'Terebro!'

And that seemed to have done the trick. Harry very nearly cheered, watching the teal ray hit the thing exactly where he'd aimed. At the very least, he told himself, he could put it out of its misery this way. But then, he blinked in confusion; the puppet hadn't slumped down. In fact, it still seemed to scream noiselessly at the top of its enchanted lungs. Furrowing his brow, his eyes sought the point where his curse had made contact. The cheap clothing was torn, but the spell had apparently not even managed to penetrate the outer skin. 'This is truly infuriating.'

'Alright, alright,' his aunt said disappointedly. 'Next on the list, let's see... Ah, yes, a true classic: the Eye Gouger.'

'It seems I am interrupting a lesson.' A calm voice from behind caused both Harry and Bellatrix to turn around. Arcturus stood in the doorway, still dressed in his cloak, looking exhausted but nevertheless smiling at both Bellatrix and Harry.

'Lord Black!' Bellatrix screeched in surprise, lowering her head.

Harry, in contrast, ran up to the person he'd missed most during his holidays. 'Grandfather!'

Arcturus gave him a brief, one-armed hug. 'Harry. I'm pleased you're up and about. You've had me worried, I am forced to admit.' He smiled gently at his grandson, his pearlescent eyes giving him a once over. 'Bones was adamant about calling a hearing. Happily, I managed to dissuade her of that notion.'

Harry grimaced. 'I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble,' he mumbled, somewhat embarrassed.

Arcturus nodded once, then his eyes fell on the still bowing Bellatrix. 'Bella, you have my thanks for taking care of Harry these past weeks.'

'It was my pleasure, my lord. And I deeply regret my lapse of judgeme-'

'She's not at fault!' Harry interrupted her. 'I begged her for days to let me go!'

'You were still my responsibility,' his aunt retorted baulkily, still refusing to meet their eyes.

'I could have ordered you to let me go!'

'But you couldn't have ordered me to let you go alone,' his aunt argued insistently.

'Enough!' Arcturus' calm voice cut through their argument effortlessly. 'A regrettable incident, but hardly disconcerting. Bella, I must ask you to leave for now. I have things I wish to discuss with my grandson.'

'By your will,' she replied. Without raising her head, she retreated backwards out of the room, closing the door gingerly and with a reverent expression.

'Let us take a seat, my son, but maybe this is not the right place.' His eyes lingered for a second on the puppets in their cages. 'Let us adjourn to my study.'

Harry nodded, not sorry at all to leave the room behind. In silence, they headed towards the second floor. It was only when they'd closed the door and Harry had sunk into the depths of one of his favourite leather armchairs that he allowed himself to relax a bit. One of their elves had apparently prepared refreshments, and so, receiving his grandfather's affirmative nod, Harry grabbed a bottle of Butterbeer and leant back again.

'How are you, Harry - truly?' Arcturus asked, his eyes piercing. 'I know from the Ministry's reports where you cast the Portkey. An incredible achievement, by the way, that baffled more than a few Aurors reading the report.'

Harry nervously shifted in his seat. Somehow, he never managed to keep his calm when Arcturus' attention was solely focused on him. 'I've been better. I...I'm ashamed to admit that the feelings are still so raw after all this time.'

'Some wounds,' his grandfather replied with a melancholic and empathic little smile, 'take longer than others to heal. Others, I'm afraid, may never truly leave you. They are part of who you are.'

Harry sighed, staring at the Butterbeer in his hands.

'It was foolish to resort to magic while outside, Harry. Not only did you give away your own level of competence, but you also managed to give Madam Bones even more reason to take an interest in your person, and-for once-rightly so, I might add.'

He couldn't bear to look in the eyes of the person he admired most, couldn't stand to see the look of reproof and disappointment, so he lowered his head in shame. 'I'm sorry. I-I kind of lost it,' he admitted in a small voice.

'That much is obvious.' His grandfather didn't raise his voice, but Harry dearly wished he would. Nevertheless, Harry didn't try to break the painful silence; it was, he had no problems admitting, thoroughly deserved.

'Where did you take the girl?' Arcturus asked after a few agonising moments.

'You mean the Aurors didn't figure that out?' Harry asked puzzled. 'Can't they track Portkeys?'

'They are, however, still working on it.'

His grandfather didn't seem likely to elaborate, so Harry answered truthfully, 'To Regulus' old place.'

'Ah.' A shadow of pain flickered across the old man's face. 'I cannot help but notice the great lengths you go to just to make your Muggle-born classmate understand. What is your reasoning?'

'I...I figured I owed it to her, despite my obvious reluctance to reveal that bit of my past. Shortly after the Fawley business, Daphne and even Draco confronted me.'

'What did they say?' Arcturus asked curiously.

'Well, they did, in so many words, call me an idiot.'

'Did they, now?' his grandfather asked with a peculiar expression of slight amusement.

'They accused me of being pig-headed. Daphne, in particular, was extremely displeased with me keeping her in the dark.'

'And do you agree?'

'I...do. I still believe that it was right to keep some things from her, considering how unpleasant her grandmother can be. But I shouldn't have done everything behind her back.'

'Do you remember what I told you last Yule, Harry?'

Harry lowered his head again, blushing a bit. 'You told me not to do everything by myself,' he muttered. 'I think I'll have to work on that a bit more.'

'Indeed. So why did you deem it prudent to let the Granger girl in on that whole sad affair?'

'I did not exactly choose to do so. Tracey must have babbled and encouraged Hermione to ask for knowledge as...recompense for me using her as bait the whole year.'

'And, naturally, you being you, you acquiesced.'

'I thought it was harmless enough. It's not a state secret.' Harry tried to justify his actions, sending his interlocutor a bit of a glare for bringing up his tendency to repay his debts.

His grandfather chuckled. 'I was just asking, Harry; I'm not judging you. But this brings me to the next topic of this conversation. You claimed that the Selwyns were, ultimately, responsible for your difficult standing at Hogwarts?'

'I wouldn't go that far,' Harry responded slowly, carefully weighing his words. 'I doubt they were actually involved in Fawley's plan per se, they're a bit too sharp for that. No, I believe they just encouraged them to be a bit bolder, promising to stand by their side if something went wrong.'

'A promise I notice they failed to uphold,' Arcturus observed placidly.

'I don't doubt their real goal was to weaken both us and the Fawleys publicly, with the additional benefit of embarrassing the Ministry and Dumbledore.'

Arcturus nodded contemplatively. 'That does seem like their style. I will ponder their involvement. I understand the younger brother is in your year?'

'Yes, but we haven't exchanged more than a passing greeting. He seems reluctant to socialise. In my opinion, the older brother advised him to keep his head down. Marceus, on the other hand, seems like a worthy candidate for succession: shrewd, calculating, cold, confident and competent.'

'It will still be years and years until he becomes Head, but any information might still prove useful later on. Anything else you can tell me about him?'

'Not really,' Harry admitted. 'I've confronted him only that one time to make sure. The only other remarkable observation was his tendency to boast. At the time, he still could have plausibly denied any involvement, yet he chose to brag. Not in a way that would implicate him, true, but it still might be a weakness. Extensive pride or carelessness, both are hardly qualities to look for in the leader of a family.'

'Some might be inclined to call it bold and headstrong,' his grandfather argued with a smirk.

'Which is exactly why Bellatrix, despite her obvious qualities, would never make a good regent,' Harry said dismissively.

Arcturus chuckled softly. 'Well, I'd have to agree with you there. Do you expect more trouble from that end?'

'Not right now. They wouldn't want to draw too much attention to their efforts to eclipse us.' Arcturus nodded silently, grabbing a bit of parchment and making a few notes. Eventually, Harry asked in a fit of daringness, 'Why have you allowed their family to become so powerful, Grandfather?'

'They're useful,' the man admitted with another smile. 'While our influence on the Wizengamot is at an all-time low, you surely realise that it is virtually impossible for it to decline any further. And we still have many assets our enemies can only speculate about. Meanwhile, the Selwyns keep Crouch and the Pillars on their toes, Dumbledore as well. In contrast to our over-ambitious friends, I don't seek to steer our family into a prominent spot just to satisfy a craving for attention. As we cannot possibly lose, why struggle at all? You might argue that we have everything to gain, but the price, effort and manpower necessary would be considerable. While Selwyn and the gentlemen from the Ministry squabble and fight over insignificant advantages, I make use of the time to gain allies in other countries, amass human and monetary assets alike, perfectly satisfied to watch them at each other's throats. No, as long as the Selwyns don't concern themselves with us directly, I see little reason to interfere.'

'And you believe the Selwyns, realising by now that we don't plan to involve ourselves, will refrain from angering us to avoid getting between the fronts?'

'Exactly.' Arcturus rewarded him with a pleased smile. 'Tell me, Ernest is in your year, is he not? What is your impression of him?'

'Macmillan?' Harry grimaced, but there was no way to soften the blow. 'I think he's a bit of an idiot,' he stated bluntly, taking note of his grandfather's obvious disappointment.

'A pity,' the man said softly. 'Melania would have been disappointed, too. Well, I cannot be expected to watch over her family as well, I'm afraid.'

'What was she like?' Harry asked, suddenly realising that he'd never asked about the woman his grandfather had married.

'Melania?' Arcturus chuckled again. 'Fiery, headstrong, proud and as mean as a bludger.'

'Still, you seem to have held her in high esteem, given that you're still interested in her family,' Harry argued, watching him interestedly.

Arcturus lowered his quill. 'I've never met a more infuriating person in my entire life. She was constantly second-guessing my decisions, always on the lookout for weakness, never passing up any opportunity to point out my flaws.' Harry waited patiently. After a while, Arcturus seemed to emerge from his reverie. 'I loved her,' he admitted with a sentimental smile. 'And I am grateful.'

Harry, not sure how to respond, took another sip to bridge the awkward silence.

'Tell me about your progress regarding Occlumency,' his grandfather said after a while, his head bent over another letter he was composing.

'I think I'm doing well enough for now. I've dedicated most of my free time at Hogwarts to it at this point.' Arcturus' quill ceaselessly ran across the parchment in front of him, while the man only gave a short nod of approval. 'Oh, and Aenor had me do another test of hers,' he added after a while, shuddering involuntarily at the memory.

'Ah, indeed. I seem to recall Bellatrix and Narcissa mentioning something along those lines. What kind of test did Miss Rose have you sit through?' Arcturus inquired without looking up.

'She called it something needlessly dramatic like "The Harrowing" or something.'

There was the sound of parchment ripping. Inch by inch, Arcturus raised his head to look at him, his face devoid of any expression. 'Would you be so kind as to repeat that, Harry?'

Feeling slightly nervous, Harry cleared his throat. 'The Harrowing,' he cawed. 'There was...a chair,' he explained hesitantly, not all too eager the relive the experience. 'A-And...and the room was filled wi-'

With a wave of his hand, Arcturus gestured for him to stop. 'I know of what you speak,' he said over the sound of a snap, and Harry was startled to realise that his grandfather had broken his quill in anger. 'When?' he demanded.

'About a week ago,' Harry answered meekly.

Arcturus gazed at him, and Harry could easily spot the rage bubbling beneath the surface. 'It seems I will need to have words with Miss Rose again.'

'I, well, I agree it was pretty bad,' Harry said, overcome with the inexplicable urge to defend the person in question. 'But she's told me about that test half the year. And I did make it through, didn't I?'

'Did she tell you at least about the dangers you faced during your trial?' Arcturus asked with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

'She did. Also, Narcissa apparently made her swear an Unbreakable Vow. Her left hand looked dead even before the test, so I figured she must have believed me to be able to prevail.'

Arcturus narrowed his eyes. 'Even so, that is not for her to decide. This also begs the question why she would bet her own life. I am...reasonably sure she holds no real loyalty to anything but herself, so this doesn't feel like something I should ignore.'

Arcturus grabbed a new sheet of parchment and quill both, making a few hasty notes. 'How did you feel immediately afterwards? Leave nothing out, this is important, Harry!'

Harry leant back again, finally daring to breathe. 'I felt...normal.'

'You didn't feel disproportionately susceptible to anger or fear?' his grandfather asked sharply, briefly looking up and silently warning him to answer honestly.

'Nothing of the sort,' Harry replied with a shake of his head.

Arcturus sighed, putting down his quill and covering his eyes with his hand. 'If that is the case, you might have been lucky. Do you remember anything of your, well, tribulations?'

Harry looked at the bottle in his hands. His throat felt like one big lump refusing to obey his will. 'Potter Manor,' he eventually replied in a low voice.

His grandfather sighed again, looking at him as if he was searching for signs of hidden diseases. 'I see. I assume this is why you've been so reclusive, as Bellatrix called it?'

Harry gave a non-committal answer and shrugged.

'Did Miss Rose talk to you after you...emerged again?'

'No, she patched me up to the best of her abilities and delivered me back the very next day. Some business on the continent, or so she claimed.'

'I see.' Arcturus fixed him in a long and ponderous gaze. 'It seems we need to have a talk about Occlumency, then. I don't pretend to be an expert, but there still might be some theoretical background that we failed to explain to you thus far. You are aware, of course, that the vast majority of traditional families teach their descendants a very basic understanding of this fine art?'

'But that is, truthfully speaking, little more than a character-building exercise, isn't it? Those drills are meant to temper the mind, not to resist mental intrusions.'

'Quite,' his grandfather agreed. 'Still, the pursuit of an occluded mind is very much a traditional quest of sorts. It is not quite as prominent nowadays, especially with Crouch vilifying the whole field of magic as unethical. During my time, it was still a very popular choice, especially because of the great advantages a wizard learned in these matters has over those who remain ignorant.'

'I am aware of that,' said Harry, as deferential as possible.

'Very well. Then you will have to agree that, depending on the person in question's character, being able to bridle your most extreme states of emotion might prove to be beyond price.'

'I suppose,' Harry replied cautiously.

'I assume Miss Rose talked to you about the theory behind the Harrowing, at least?'

'She did.'

'Then, do you realise that this test was specifically engineered for people who are being...held back by the terrors of their past?'

Harry furrowed his brow. 'But she said that fighting against fear, as the rawest and most overwhelming emotion, was of general benefit to those who aimed to master their mind without suppressing their emotions completely!'

'I'm sure she did, but that is not exactly the truth.' Raising his hand to forestall the objection, he carried on, 'Neither is it completely wrong. You have to understand, Harry, that this test was once created as the last, ultimate, most extreme and deadly measure to help people overcome their personal trauma. Do you understand now?'

'B-but she said-'

'Irrelevant! Listen to me, Harry! Do you honestly believe there is just one approach to mastering your mind? Do you really believe I would have wanted you to get tormented by a pack of Dementors with your sanity on the line?' Arcturus demanded harshly.

'N-no,' Harry admitted eventually.

'And that is because there are as many paths as there are goals to Occlumency. Miss Rose chose an extremely dangerous, inconsistent and reckless method to teach you something that a regular student needs months, if not years, to master. Now, considering all this, do you still think nothing's changed after the test? Specifically in your behaviour?'

Harry furiously thought back on the last few weeks, paying particular attention to all instances of what might be considered uncharacteristic behaviour. Then, he blinked, surprised. 'I-I didn't, you know, flinch when Hermione tried to comfort me with a hug.'

His grandfather nodded curtly. 'Anything else?'

'I suppose, looking back, it's a bit out of character for me to use magic illegally and kill a Ministry owl,' he admitted with a sheepish grin.

Arcturus just stared back at him, but Harry had the distinct impression that the man was, with all his might, trying not to roll his eyes. 'Indeed,' he said neutrally. 'There are, as Miss Rose might have explained, really two main philosophies to Occlumency, but there are as many ways of teaching them as there are stars in the sky. I'm at least glad that the both of you had enough sense not to dabble in the second sort. But,' he said, raising his finger to stress the point, 'what she might have...forgotten to explain is that playing with your emotions might be equally dangerous as it is to ignore them altogether.'

'Well, she did say something like this path being a "lifelong quest to seek balance".'

'An understatement if ever I've heard one. But now, at least, you realise the problem, don't you? While you might, in theory, have the ability to retain control and even to hide your thoughts behind genuine displays of emotion, you mustn't allow your heightened instincts to run away with you.'

Harry scowled, feeling cheated. Back when Aenor had explained the whole issue to him, it had all seemed so clear. Now, it looked as if the matter had only gotten more complicated than before. 'How does Occlumency even help me, then?' he asked angrily.

'Because, Harry,' Arcturus said with a little smile of encouragement, 'it's still a battle that you can ultimately win. Cutting down your emotions, contrariwise, spells irreversible defeat. Also, as you've already described, it might be of some use regarding your...problem. Just keep in mind that you seek to master your emotions, not to undo them.'

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. 'I understand,' he said weakly.

'Then, let us speak no more of it. It's been a long day for me; how about we discuss what still bears further talking through tomorrow?'

'Of course, Grandfather.' Harry immediately rose from his seat, bowing his head slightly.

'Harry?' Arcturus called again, as he was wont to do.

'Yes, Grandfather?'

'It's good to have you back.'

Harry's smile seemed to emblaze the whole room, effortlessly triumphing over dark tidings and past tragedies. 'It's good to be back.'

~BLVoD~

Harry sat in front of the tapestry, his hands folded, his wand lying loosely in his lap and his expression tranquil, soaking up the pictures of those that connected him to centuries past.

In these moments, he couldn't be happier. He gazed for hours at his ancestors, devouring the connections they shared just as eagerly as a lost wanderer in a desert might an overflowing, chilled waterskin. An observer might have labelled his suppliant devotion almost indecent.

'I've never seen a boy so immersed in the family tree, Harry. I don't mind telling you that my own grandfather would likely have shed a well-hidden tear at the thought of me doing the same.'

Harry smiled as he made to stand up to greet the Head of his family properly, but Arcturus, chuckling softly, instead sat down beside him, studying the tapestry with a small smile of his own.

After a few minutes of silent worshipping, Arcturus raised his voice. 'What is your first thought when you gaze upon our forebears.'

'Privilege,' Harry instantly replied. His grandfather raised a quizzical eyebrow, so he elaborated. 'I don't mean the money, Grandfather. It's more...the honour of knowing that I stand in the same line with them. Hundreds of witches and wizards, many great minds. And all of them were united in the conviction that this family was something to be sheltered, protected and nourished.'

Arcturus hummed his consent. 'Though you don't mind the gold either if it serves its purpose to enrich our library, or so I have been told,' he added in a light tone.

'Cranky is such a telltale,' Harry grumbled unhappily.

'I did advise you to call him a few times at Hogwarts. I'm afraid he feels neglected,' replied his grandfather with amusement. 'If you don't want him to entertain your friends at Hogwarts with embarrassing childhood stories, I'd consider making good on your promise.'

Harry squinched up his face, imagining Cranky telling on him to Tracey and, Merlin forbid, Draco. 'I'll most definitely keep that in mind,' he said with germane decisiveness.

Arcturus chuckled softly. They shared another peaceful moment of silence before his grandfather spoke up again. 'Harry, I have to ask; why did you forbid the Fawley girl to meddle with the Greengrass family? You are, of course, aware that would have been playing exactly into our hand, are you not?'

'I made it so that only the daughter took the blame,' he argued, trying to keep his cool. 'It won't influence their family's general decision, will it? Terese won't even be eligible to-'

'An uncharacteristically naïve statement by your standards, Harry,' his grandfather interrupted him, his eyes unmoving. 'Surely, you realise that the Head of the Fawley household will have understood that someone must have meddled with their plans at school? Even if you managed to make the contract relatively iron-clad, that doesn't change that it's fairly obvious that someone in a position of power disrupted their little project.'

Harry swallowed his first response, choosing to not give in to the urge to give a scathing reply. 'Daphne will never suffer her grandmother trying to sever the tie between herself and me.'

'But you don't help the matter either, passively encouraging your cousin to rebel against her family,' Arcturus stated calmly.

Harry snapped his head around, narrowing his eyes. 'With all due respect, Grandfather, I did all that precisely because Daphne is family. I won't compromise! You imply I acted against the family's wishes; I say it was the only way I saw to protect it! With regard to that, I couldn't care less about what Madame Greengrass wishes to happen.'

Arcturus stared at him, humming thoughtfully. 'I see. If you phrase it like that, I'll have to withdraw my objections for the time being. Still, I urge you to be a bit more careful with your political dealings.'

Harry relaxed a bit, nodding. 'I will.' After a while, he added, 'I'm sorry if this has caused inconvenience on your part.'

Arcturus inclined his head. 'Well, long-term plans are to be expected to experience difficulties. I seem to recall your cousin insisting on your attendance for her birthday this year?'

Harry sighed, rubbing his temple. 'Oh yes, and how she insisted.'

Arcturus chuckled again. 'I have no doubt that Esmerelle will corner you at some point. Just try to keep your wits about you and, if at all possible, try to propose a grudging compromise. We are, in contrast to what she believes, of course perfectly willing to have the Greengrass family distance itself from us publicly. As "compensation", try to push for her to leave her grandchildren alone at Hogwarts. If you play it smartly, you'll be able to further our plans regarding her family, keep your cousin happy and still make that hag think she came out on top.'

'You're devious, Grandfather,' Harry said with a grin.

'It comes with being old,' the man responded with a small wink. 'One benefit of advanced age is that you've grown to know and love all the little ways to mess with people's heads. Speaking of which, maybe you can use the occasion to test the waters regarding Occlumency, too; you might find approaching women a bit easier if you manage to keep your concentration, though I advise you not to overdo it.'

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his head. 'Well, maybe I'll be giving it a shot.'

'It's no use pretending everything's fine, Harry, trust me. While we're still on topic, have you noticed anything peculiar regarding your sleeping habits?'

Harry blinked. 'Come again?'

'It is possible,' his grandfather elaborated calmly, 'that your sleep or dreams are being affected by your rather well-developed Occlumency. I'm sure I don't need to discuss the disadvantages of emptying your mind before you settle for the night?'

'No. I...I haven't had a nightmare about Nott for a few weeks now, thank Merlin.'

'Excellent. But you might also find that your dreams become slightly more...lucid. Not true lucid dreaming, but scenes that might not have been clear in the past could well start to fall into place.'

Harry had to mull over that one for a second. 'You mean,' he said slowly, his heart skipping a beat, 'that I could possibly glimpse information from events of the past?'

Arcturus nodded, his eyes never leaving Harry's.

'Do you think it's possible that I'll unearth who killed the Potters? Or,' he clenched his suddenly rather sweaty fists, 'who the fuck did that to me?'

And again, Arcturus nodded, apparently willing to overlook his crude speech for once. 'I did not want to tell you beforehand because only particularly successful Occlumens manage to decipher their own childhood traumata. But, given your recent accomplishments, I'm no longer hesitant to reveal this to you. So, yes; it's possible that you will end up learning who murdered the Potters, or even what happened to instil that fear of women in you. If so, it will happen over time. Exercise yourself in the discipline of your mind, then we'll see what happens.'

After a while, the old man added in a sombre tone, 'You have truly come a long way, Harry. When you were smaller, Sirius and I discussed letting a Mindhealer attempt to ease your burdens, but, ultimately, we decided that the risks were too great. I told Sirius that if you had even a pint of your father's or grandmother's blood in you, you'd defeat your nightmares the old-fashioned way – in time. I'm truly glad that I wasn't wrong.'

Harry looked away, not willing to let the emotions overcome him. 'It was Regulus who told me to confront my fears. He said that it was the only way to triumph and that hiding would mean that my tormentors won. That's why I tried so hard back then, no matter how much it hurt.'

'Well, even if you end up never learning what exactly happened, I don't doubt for a single second that Regulus would be proud of how far you've come. And so would Sirius, his eccentricity notwithstanding.'

Harry nodded abstractedly. 'But even so,' he said with a grim look and a snarl, 'I shall have words with those disgusting pigs that did this to me!'

His grandfather regarded him impassively. 'If it will ever come to that, you have my promise that I will not stand in your way.'

They shared a small interlude of angry silence before Arcturus cast another long look at the tapestry. 'It is fortunate I found you here. There is one last thing I wanted to caution you about.'

'What is it?' It took a lot of effort on Harry's part to bury the burning anger that stemmed from shame, but he did his best.

'I gather you managed to utilise young Miss Fawley's commitment to her family as leverage to force her to accept your terms. You mentioned her memories. How exactly did that come to pass, Harry?'

'Well, I modified the standard Memory Charm to accommodate the task.'

Arcturus, to Harry's astonishment, winced, looking at him as if the answer had physically hurt. 'Impressive,' he said reluctantly. 'Why go about it this way, though?'

Harry sighed. 'I've had a look at spells that target memories, and they are seriously complicated. I'm sure I could make an attempt, yet the chance to mess up was definitely not zero. It's comparably easy to erase the last few minutes, but to precisely target a very specific point is almost impossible without knowledge of Legilimency. Trying to rid a person of connected memories is absolutely not feasible for me at this point. So, to compensate, I chose to modify the spell rather than work on my limited abilities. The spell I used will only really function in similar situations and only with that one goal in mind, not to mention that it's rather impractical to continuously modify it. It was just an...auxiliary means, really.'

'You, I am convinced, are the only soon-to-be fifteen-year-old boy to even consider modifying a spell as an "auxiliary means",' commented Arcturus with some superficial mirth. 'How long did it take you?'

Harry shrugged. 'The Memory Charm itself is easy enough to learn; that didn't even take me an hour. That, however, doesn't mean much, as I can hardly use the spell at all. Well, except removing the last few minutes of someone's recollections. Modifying it to suit my needs took about a week, but the incantation ended up being half a scroll of parchment long. I have to admit, I have some newfound respect for Obliviators.'

'Then it is as I suspected.' Arcturus sighed, his eyes darting towards a part of the tapestry that depicted witches and wizards about one century departed. 'I want to tell you a story, Harry.'

'Er, am I not a bit too old for that?' Harry asked with a fleeting smile.

'Not for this kind of story. I had hoped, in fact, that you still might be a bit too young for these lessons.' Arcturus waited until he saw his grandson nodding in understanding. Then, he turned his chair around so that he could look at him without craning his neck. 'Have you ever obliviated someone, with the exception of meddling with young Fawley's memory?'

Harry stopped breathing. 'Once,' he admitted in a small voice, not eager to elaborate further.

Arcturus nodded grimly. 'The temptations of magic,' he said mysteriously. 'There once was a family member of ours who had a distinct knack for theoretical application of magic, not unlike you, in fact. From a young age, she showed her brilliance, outperforming both schoolmates and, later, co-workers. She wasn't from the main branch, though, and eventually, she was ordered to find a solution for a problem the family had run into.

'You see, at the time, the family had a valid marriage contract with another family of note. The contracted party on our side, however, let passion get in the way of reason. Rising to the occasion, the young Miss Black improved upon the Memory Charm, just like you, if-admittedly-a bit more thoroughly so. And what a thing of beauty her finished product was; virtually undetectable, deviously painstaking, devilishly tricky to dispel, self-improving and, after a short time of incubation, absolutely permanent with no chance of recovery at all.

'Self-improving?' Harry asked, astounded. 'How does that work? Changing other memories to fill the gap?'

'Most likely. It affected all senses, leaving behind perfectly forged memories. Not even an inspection of the faux memories in a Pensieve could determine anything suspicious. It was, as I have said, a thing of beauty.'

'Why haven't I heard of it before?' Harry asked quizzically.

'You wouldn't,' Arcturus explained patiently, 'because the spell was deemed dangerous.' He raised his wand, pointing it at the tapestry. Harry looked up and saw the name Cygnus Black I lighting up. 'The Head of House Black at the time forbade her to instruct another person in the spell and ordered all notes of its invention destroyed.'

Harry blinked. 'A Black wanted to keep a spell secret?'

Arcturus nodded. 'Most unusual, I agree. But you have to consider that times were different. Back then, we weren't the only family vocal about the freedom of magic. In fact, it wasn't even something to fight for, since it was a generally accepted foundation of society. Now, our position is much more isolated, and as a result, our beliefs have become somewhat more extreme. It is good to keep everything in perspective.

'Anyway, just as our young heroine completed her experiments, the situation escalated. The bride-to-be stumbled upon the pair of unfaithful lovers. Wands were drawn. The other girl, a young Carrow, died.

'Cygnus Black, not willing to risk political fallout, criminal charges or revenge from the contracted party or the Carrows, ordered our young Charmsmaster to cast the spell on the engaged couple, while he himself dealt with the unfortunate incident in a discreet fashion.'

'He let her cast the spell on a family member?' Harry asked, aghast.

'He did. It was both a punishment for the young man as well as a means to ensure that he'd never slip up. As I said, not illogical, yet perhaps slightly paranoid. Cygnus was also, I feel obligated to admit, not the most forgiving of Blacks. My grandfather told me quite a few stories about him in that regard. I'm sure he'll indulge you, too, if you ask nicely.'

Harry nodded, making mental note to question the portrait of the moody headmaster at some point.

'Speaking of being thorough; while the young couple eventually married, never believing themselves to be involved in the scandalous disappearance of the young Carrow girl, her family was obviously extremely distressed. They knew, of course, that their daughter had an amorous adventure on the side, though she had, luckily enough, not confided in them with whom exactly.

'Nevertheless, sensing a connection, the Carrows began asking questions. Barmaids, pub owners, street vendors; sooner or later, someone was bound to have seen something, and they had enough money to throw around that the person in question would likely babble.

'Cygnus, therefore, ordered them dealt with, too.'

Harry looked at his grandfather apprehensively. 'That couldn't have ended well.'

'Well, it was difficult, but the girl was remarkable. It took her a while, and, as far as we know, there were some close shaves, but eventually, she managed to cast the charm on every listed member of the Carrow family.'

'That doesn't sound like the end of the story,' Harry commented dryly.

'Indeed. You see, while the immediate problem seemed to have been dealt with, soon co-workers, friends of the family and even acquaintances couldn't help noticing that some members of the Carrow household seemed to behave oddly during talks about recent events. Even if the spell was, technically, almost perfect, it was never meant to be used on so many people. Their artificial memories didn't overlap, there were small incongruities. Eventually, the Ministry took an interest, correctly interpreting the events as a case of mass removal of memory. Soon, the Auror Office, later even the Unspeakables were drawn to the case, looking into people of note who might have had reason to research a new Memory Charm.'

'And Cygnus?' Harry asked reluctantly, almost dreading the answer.

Arcturus smiled grimly. 'Naturally, he ordered his little helper to cast the charm on any person of her past who might be able to make the connection between the spell and the exceedingly bright young witch.

'It speaks highly of her that she was, apparently, willing to do that. But soon enough, it became even more obvious that you couldn't make all of Magical Britain forget quite so easily. Realising that she was fighting a war against time and an insurmountable enemy, the young witch did the only thing she could think of that would protect her family.'

'She cast the spell on them, didn't she?' Harry whispered with bated breath.

'Indeed. But she knew it wouldn't work like that. She wasn't of the main-branch, so she had no knowledge about our hidden roots. Also, in contrast to Cygnus, she was willing to see that you could never erase all the evidence by simply casting the spell on as many individuals as it was feasible. And so, she sat down and fixed the one gaping flaw in her spell; she made it so that she could target not only one person, but a whole host of people, and,' Arcturus said with sorrow, 'though there is a lot of speculation involved at this point, apparently substances.'

'Air?' Harry guessed dejectedly. 'Or water, perhaps. I didn't know you could do that on a large scale without resorting to potions.'

'Neither did I, but, or so we have to conclude, she succeeded. Of course, targeting the environment meant that she herself would also end up being a victim of her own spellwork. It isn't difficult to imagine that she must have been proud of what she was about to do: stifling a war in its making, saving enemies and family alike. But how do you think it felt to realise that her actions would effectively remove her from every other person she'd ever known. Nobody would ever remember her. She would be dead, even to herself.

'You can have a look at the records of the Ministry. Exactly three days after the Auror Office started their official investigation, the whole issue was suddenly dropped. The report concludes that the incident must stem from a failed potions experiment, as no evidence of someone missing memories could be determined from that point forward. Have a look at our archive of the Daily Prophet some time. One day, the paper riles the public, warning of some unknown witch or wizard obliviating the masses, only to apologise on the very next day, meekly admitting it to have been a false report. It is...eerie.'

'B-but the family records, she can't possibly have altered them all! What about the tapestry?'

Arcturus shook his head sadly. 'Everything is gone. Nobody was even aware of her existence after that. We later speculated that she must have laced the spell with compulsions. Or maybe she forced Cygnus to remove all traces of her. She was, as I have hinted from the beginning, a commendable prodigy.'

'How do we even know of her existence, then?' Harry asked, unpersuaded.

'And thus,' Arcturus said with a small smile, 'we finally come to the morale of the story. Nothing is really ever perfect, Harry. Even though nobody ever managed to break free of her spell, there still was something she could apparently not overcome. Though their parents remained ignorant until their dying breaths, the children of the next generation soon stumbled over perplexing inconsistencies in the family history. When they confronted their parents with these discoveries, their concerns were waved aside. But strange evidence kept turning up over time. Nothing much, but enough to raise the suspicion of fairly suspicious folk. Thus, the young adults kept digging. Nothing is perfect, Harry. Our actions always ripple through history, no matter how benign our intentions may be.'

'Did they ever find her?' Harry asked in a hushed voice.

Arcturus silently pointed towards a small bud in the row directly underneath Cygnus that Harry had always assumed to be decoration. 'Tap it with your wand.'

He did so. The bud burst open, revealing a single name: Lethe. Not Lethe Black – just Lethe.

'They found her then?'

Arcturus answered with a sad smile, 'More or less. The descendants of those she cast the charms on were unaffected by her magic, and after 40 years of gathering all the clues, they managed to piece the evidence together. They found her on her deathbed in a small village in Estonia. She didn't know who she really was, of course, but there still could be little doubt: black curly hair, big grey eyes. My grandsire always told me she looked remarkably like our very own Bellatrix. They didn't approach her, though. They had enough experience with the spell by now to realise the futility of such an attempt. Instead, they simply watched over her as best as they could for the last days of her undeservedly tragic life.'

Harry looked down at the wand in his lap. He wanted nothing more than to curse the short-sightedness of Cygnus the first, only respect for the dead and family held him back.

'Harry, I want you to promise me to be careful with Memory Charms. They are not infallible, and you might be forced to do things you might rather not to cover up for them. I will never forbid you from using any kind of magic, and you know this. But please, I urge you to be extremely cautious with that one. I confess I'm actually more at ease with the kind of spells your aunt is likely trying to teach you than those manipulating the human mind at such a deep level.'

Harry and Arcturus exchanged a long look.

'I promise I shall be careful,' swore Harry, not quite willing to forgo this branch of magic altogether, despite the warning. At least now he understood why his grandfather had been on edge; him modifying the spell must have awoken unsettling flashbacks.

Arcturus sighed, standing up and gripping his shoulder. 'Please do.'

~BLVoD~

'You're overdoing it again, Daphy!' grouched Tracey, who stood next to Daphne and her giant mirror. 'Look, I've been real patient, but enough is enough already! Pick an outfit within the next five minutes. Your guests will be here in twenty!'

Daphne looked at her mirror image critically. 'You're not helping it! The more useful comments you make, the faster I'm going to be finished. What do you think? Teal or no teal?'

Out of the corner of her eye, Daphne saw Tracey drawing a few calming breaths. 'Didn't we go over that back when you despaired of that teal dress about four hours ago?' Tracey stressed the last few words exasperatedly.

'Not really?' Daphne disagreed. 'How can you even compare a formal gown to this rather casual one piece? I mean, the skirt doesn't even cover my knees!'

Tracey rolled her eyes again. 'So what? You've seen what some of the Muggle-borns wear at Hogwarts, right?'

Daphne considered that comment for a while. 'A good point. Think we might still be able to get one of those mini-things before the party starts?'

'Daphne!' Tracey snapped, irritated.

'Okay, okay. But maybe I should try on that claret-coloured blouse again?'

That comment caused Tracey to fling herself onto Daphne's bed, where she buried her face in the pillow, groaning in frustration. 'What's going on? You were always a bit snotty about your clothes, but this is just painful!'

Daphne clicked her tongue, glaring at her best friend. 'Nothing is "going on" at all. And I'll keep your comment about me being snotty in mind next time you want to borrow some dress from me or Astoria again.'

In the mirror, Daphne could see that had Tracey turned her small head just enough to stick her tongue out at her. 'Remind me to never come over early again while you get ready for a party. But what's gotten into you? You weren't like this when we were getting ready for the Black Ball.'

'That's because I had Astoria help before you came over, obviously!'

'Poor thing. How long did that take, then?'

Daphne was about to answer, but then she thought better of it.

'What was that?' Tracey asked again insistently.

'Just two days!' Noticing the look on her best friend, she felt obliged to add, 'But we took so many breaks since my sister kept losing her concentration for no reason; so, it was more like one day, really. Maybe one and a half.'

Tracey, still lounging around on the bed, gave her a disbelieving look. Then, she sat up from one moment to the next, a look of comprehension on her face. 'Aha!'

'What?' demanded Daphne, crossing her arms defensively.

'You're dressing up to the nines because of Harry!' she declared with a wiggle of her eyebrows and a truly insufferable grin.

'So what if I am?' Daphne retorted with a bit of a blush. 'It's not like he notices anyway,' she added as an afterthought, taking a seat on the bed as well, feeling slightly mopey at the thought of her wasted efforts last Yule.

Tracey crawled over to her and patted her back. 'Well, that was in the past, right? He can hardly ignore you at your own birthday, can he?'

Daphne shrugged, unconvinced. 'Last time, he didn't even spare me a glance. No, it was always Rose this, Rose that. She didn't even look that good, to begin with. I don't know what all the fuss is about, really. It's not like she's drop-dead gorgeous, or something,' she muttered angrily.

'Thank Merlin, it just so happens that this is your party, so I think it's highly unlikely that slapper will unexpectedly turn up.' Tracey seemed rather upbeat all of a sudden, as if the thought of her proclaimed (one-sided) nemesis not appearing was a great source of inner strength. 'So, you want to dance with Harry and catch his attention, is that it?'

'Well,' said Daphne, playing with the hem of her skirt, 'I guess so.'

Her best friend sighed dramatically. 'Why didn't you just say so?'

'Because you always misunderstand and keep asking annoying questions!'

'You want to go out with him or something?' Tracey asked businesslike.

'Exactly that kind of question,' huffed Daphne, turning away.

But Tracey was not to be deterred. 'That a yes?'

'What? No! Of course not! I mean...no! It's not like that, it's...' Confused and not sure what to say, Daphne stood up again. 'I don't know.'

Tracey silently watched her nervous fidgeting for a few moments. 'Well, Harry always wears those really conservative robes in subdued colours. So why don't you pick something that'll go well with those and is still relatively easy to dance in?'

Daphne turned around, rewarding her loyal friend with beaming smile. 'Thanks!'

'And if it's a bit low-cut...Well, no harm done, am I right?' her friend remarked with a snigger.

'Tracey!' Daphne growled warningly.

'And you'll please your gran, too, wearing a formal dress. As a bonus, so to speak.'

'I couldn't care less!' Daphne returned loftily. 'Mum said I could wear whatever I felt like.'

Tracey raised her hands, obviously trying to placate her, but Daphne merely rolled her eyes. It's not like she'd complained that often about her grandmother to Tracey. Just a few times at Hogwarts. And, sure, maybe the topic had come up then and again, but that wasn't anything like her complaining constantly. Definitely not!

'Why must you be so standoffish and belligerent?' whined Tracey entreatingly.

'I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about!' purported Daphne, glaring at her defiantly.

'Are you ready yet, Sweetheart?' her mother suddenly called from below. 'Your guests are arriving!'

Daphne, with a look of panic, jumped to the huge pile of discarded clothes, rummaging around. 'Er, that one!' she proclaimed, holding up a ceremonial-looking yet somewhat figure-hugging dress of midnight blue.

Tracey, unsure whether to be cross or happy with this development, eventually settled for a scoff. 'Are you serious? You can't even decide if you want to wear a dress or not for hours, and now you settle for that one just like that?'

Daphne, supremely unconcerned, shrugged, already in the process of changing. 'Come on, help me! I still need you to do my hair.'

'Salazar, save me!' Tracey muttered under her breath.

Ten minutes and a lot of snarky banter later, Daphne calmly descended the stairs with Tracey, still slightly miffed, following her lead. Daphne didn't doubt for a second that her childhood friend would somehow get even with her. Even though Tracey and Harry both could be remarkably level-headed, they were surprisingly childish in that regard. But who was she to point a finger? She knew that she was in the habit of letting her short temper get the better of her. During hours of silent pondering, she'd come to admit that this had once been her way of coping with the past, and now it was just a part of who she was.

Shaking her head, she tried to banish those thoughts. This wasn't the time for morose lamenting – not today. She resisted the urge to pull at the fabric where the dress did not seem to fit, nobly floating down the stairs, making sure to smile at every person she could see.

Beaming appropriately and sharing a bit of small talk where necessary, she calmly received the obligatory congratulations many distant cousins, friends, neighbours or other guests heaped upon her. They were dealt with easily enough and wouldn't linger for long. Others, she seethed inwardly, weren't as easily satisfied.

'There you are, Daphne. Goodness me, I'm glad you didn't choose to wear that horrid burgundy atrocity that you seem to hold in such high regard.'

'Hello, Gran. Do you, by any chance, mean my claret red blouse that Tracey bought for me last year?' she asked with a fierce smile.

'Ah, yes,' the reed-thin old woman said, glancing at Tracey, who returned a meek and self-conscious smile. 'I should have known. Regardless, I'm glad you've come to see reason.'

Daphne just kept smiling sweetly. Her mother had warned her not to make a scene, but that certainly didn't mean that she would take whatever the malicious beldam would throw at her. 'Thank you,' she replied politely with a little curtsy. 'I too must congratulate you on your giant lilac mushroom hat, Gran. It's quite possible I've never seen anything like it.'

In the background, Tracey choked on her drink, hurriedly dashing towards the lavatory to discreetly remove the stains on her simple but rather nice-looking jade green robes.

The old crone watched her friend go with a barely concealed sneer. 'I notice that your choice in company is as...outré as ever,' she remarked delicately with just the barest pretence of civility.

Daphne subtly looked around, making sure nobody was in her immediate vicinity. When she was sure that their privacy was assured, relatively speaking, she turned once more to face the fossil in front of her. 'What do you want?' she hissed coldly, smile still in place just in case somebody was paying attention.

'Don't take that tone with me! Really, child, is this the place to act out your infantile grudge?'

'Well, it is my party, which I was just about to enjoy!'

Esmerelle Greengrass's eyes wandered up and down, scrutinising every inch of her granddaughter. 'You may enjoy your petty little get-together in a mere moment. I have invited a few friends of mine, who all have sons about your age. Respectable families, the lot of them. You will introduce yourself and entertain them as courtesy demands.'

'You invited your bootlickers to my birthday party?' Daphne asked, outraged. 'Fine, you know what? It's your house. But I can't be bothered to parade in front of them like a piece of meat. And I'm warning you, if ever again you try to sell me off again to satisfy your lust for self-importance, there'll be an "accident"!'

'Who do you think you are to presume to warn me, girl! Finish school before you meddle in things you have no clue about.' Her grandmother shook her head, a few strands of her long silvery hair that still retained a bit of red coming loose under her ridiculous choice in headdress. 'I'm doing this for you and the family, you silly little thing. I invited them so you could have a look! Surely, a few of them are to your liking? If they're gallant and polite, love may well come in years to pass.'

'Are we finished?' Daphne snarled, folding her arms and leaning sideways, making it highly obvious just how disinterested she was in continuing this conversation. 'You invited them in, so I'm sure they remember vividly where the nearest exit is.'

The old hag sighed as if she had any right to be disappointed. 'Alright, Daphne, have it your way – for now. Happy birthday!' Without so much as a smile, she stalked off, heading towards a corner where about twenty people Daphne had never laid eyes on before huddled in small groups, not mingling with the rest of the crowd whatsoever.

'She does seem to be getting even more obnoxious as of late,' an amused voice drawled suddenly right next to her. Startled, Daphne took a step back and looked towards her right. A lean and athletic girl about her age wearing simple dark robes leant with her back against the table that was stacked with presents, her prominent grey eyes staring at Esmerelle Greengrass, who returned the look with a grim frown. Her arm was casually outstretched, silently offering Daphne something to drink.

'Amy! I didn't see you there,' Daphne burst out, gratefully taking the offered beverage.

'Of course, you didn't, silly. I wouldn't have been hiding very well otherwise, don't you think?'

It took Daphne's brain a few seconds to readjust to radio Lestrange. 'So you were eavesdropping?'

Amadina Lestrange shrugged casually. 'Hardly anything better to do here. There's still a lot of pinheads about,' she said without lowering her voice, nodding in the direction of her grandmother's crowd. 'Say, did you invite Crouch's cousin?'

'What?' spluttered Daphne. 'I have no idea who you're talking about.'

'Never mind, then. Happy birthday, by the way!' With one hand, Amy offered her a small box wrapped in simple brown paper.

'Oh, yes, thank you.' Daphne inspected the suspiciously inconspicuous little gift. 'What is that?'

'It's from Leo and me both. And aren't you supposed to thank me gracefully and open it with all the others?' Amy teased with a lazy smile.

'Don't give me that rot!'

Amy laughed it off, as Daphne had known she would. 'Be my guest, open it!'

Daphne inspected the little cube, preparing to tear the paper off. But then, she stopped. 'It is, you know, safe to open, right?' she asked cautiously. You couldn't ever be truly sure with Lestranges.

Amy grinned in return. 'It's quite safe. Just stay your wand.'

Nervously, Daphne slowly peeled away the layers of cheap paper. A small and completely cubic dark stone surfaced. 'What is that?' she asked in confusion. The little stone, mineral or whatever it was supposed to be, felt neither warm nor cold, not heavy or light. It didn't whisper softly, its surface was neither polished nor did it look striking in any other way. If Daphne had to praise one aspect of her gift, it was how incredibly dull it was. 'What the hell is this supposed to be?'

Amy grinned at her, taking a strangely small sip from her glass. 'A Portkey.'

'A Portkey?' Daphne repeated charily. 'Where to?'

'The Ministry.'

'You can't make Portkeys leading to any government building,' Daphne contradicted her automatically. 'The Grindewald Legisla-'

'Correction: No non-government worker may create a Portkey leading to any government building.'

Daphne's eyes flickered to the little cube in her hand. 'Are you insane?!' she whispered, looking around anxiously. 'Where did you get that?!'

Amy coolly took another small sip, grinning brazenly. 'Nicked it from my mum, obviously.'

Daphne stared at Amy for a few good seconds before she hastily hid the small cube in the secret pocket of her dress. She cast her gaze around again. Nobody was paying them any attention, of course, but Daphne couldn't help feeling somewhat nervous. It wasn't often you carried something in your pocket that automatically landed you in Azkaban for a few years after all. How in the name of Gryffindor's soggy pants has Bellatrix Lestrange gotten hold of a restricted Ministry Portkey? Or an even better question: why did the Lestrange siblings think it a good idea to steal that blasted Portkey and give it away as a present?

Shifting from one foot to the other, Daphne took a sip from the glass Amadina had offered her to soothe her nerves. Whatever it was, and it sure was no pumpkin juice, burned her throat, and brought tears to her eyes. 'What is that?' she managed to utter in-between the coughs.

'I don't know,' admitted Amy with a shrug. 'It's what most of the men are drinking, though I notice they seem to serve it in rather small amounts. I suspect,' she proclaimed, taking another small draught, 'that it's Firewhiskey. Tastes strange, right?'

Daphne grimaced, placing the glass on the table and as far away as possible. 'My mum will have kittens!'

'You're such a party pooper.' Unceremoniously, Amy poured Daphne's Firewhiskey into her own glass. 'Suit yourself!'

'Is Leo here as well?' Daphne asked, desperate for a change in topic.

'Yup. He's over there with the rest of the boys,' she said, pointing towards the sitting area, where-indeed-Leo sat with both Harry, Draco and Tracey, who was just joining them.

'Why didn't they come say hello?' Daphne asked grumpily.

'I was supposed to get you.'

'Why didn't you?!' Daphne snapped half-heartedly.

But Amy just shrugged, grinning that grin of hers. 'Let's get going, then,' she said, dragging her by the sleeve, her other hand still holding her refilled glass.

Daphne just let it happen.

'I'm telling you,' Draco exclaimed with just a hint of waning patience, his voice carrying, 'a Hippogriff could never beat a Giant. Even if it's a lot more agile, that's still not enough to overcome the sheer difference in mass. Get real, Leo!'

'Why are you so into this, Draco? Are you overcompensating?' quipped Tracey with a saucy smirk.

'What?' shouted Draco, his head whipping around in an instant. 'I'll have you know there's no need to compensate!' he proclaimed loudly and with a smug look.

'We'll take your word for it.'

'What I meant, Draco,' explained the boy with neatly parted black hair and calm eyes that so resembled both his older sister's and his mother's, 'is that a giant will never catch the Hippogriff. And let's not forget that they're arguably comparably intelligent. My beast can cover much more ground than yours and is thus completely safe from him. But when the Giant falls asleep, it could strike from the shadows, swiftly ripping out his eyes, leaving the Giant helpless in further skirmishes.' Eye-catchingly deft, he brought a small cup of clay, that was full to overflowing, with both of his hands to his lips. Barely a ripple seemed to disturb the mirror-like surface which was being kept in place by its embattled surface tension. 'The Giant may be bigger, but it's still prey for the cunning hunter.'

'Boys!' interjected Tracey with a groan. 'Is it really so important which beast is more dangerous?'

'Of course!'

'I believe it serves to make a point.'

'I couldn't care less,' remarked Harry with a shrug.

'Oh, look! Our gracious host,' announced Tracey when she saw Daphne being steered towards them.

'Hello. It's nice you all made it,' Daphne greeted them, well-behaved but her thoughts straying. The dress was starting to make her feel uncomfortable already. Maybe I should have picked another one, after all...

Leo was wearing plain black quality robes similar to his sister's. Draco, to her surprise, was wearing rather modern dark dress pants and a navy-blue button-down shirt. Harry was, true to Tracey's predictions, wearing old-fashioned black robes with thin but bold linings in cyan blue.

Leo quickly offered his congratulations. 'Happy birthday, and thank you for your invitation, Daphne. I hope you like our present? It was almost too good to part with.'

'It's certainly...thrilling,' commented Daphne drily, aware of Tracey's and Harry's curious looks. Damn it! Now I can't get it out of my head again! Blasted Lestranges, I bet they're having a la-

And then it finally started to make sense. Now that she thought about it, she was fairly sure that was the whole point of their gift. Giving her something that'd made her sweat for the entire duration of the party was exactly their idea of fun. They knew she couldn't leave the party without losing face, after all...

'Happy birthday, Greengrass. I've dropped my parcel with the others,' said Draco, who could apparently not be bothered to even stand up to greet her properly.

Harry, in contrast, did. He bowed formally, showing her an almost inappropriate amount of respect. 'Daphne,' he called with a warm and genuine smile. It had taken several years, but by now she was fairly good at keeping them straight. For Harry had many smiles: one for formal occasions, one when he was just being polite, one to cover up his insecurities, one to show his understanding, one when he was desperately trying to hide something, one meant to soothe, one when he was enjoying plotting secret revenge; those were more often than not the real emotions and intentions hiding behind his many faces, but this one was her absolute favourite. Mainly, because she knew he reserved it for so precious few people. 'Happy birthday. I hope you've been enjoying yourself?'

Daphne couldn't help smiling back, closing the gap between them and hugging him, delightedly taking note that he wasn't trying to shrug her off, even though his hands still flailed about rather ungainly.

But she decided not to push her luck so early and broke the embrace fairly quickly, taking a few steps back. 'So?' She smartly lifted the hem of her skirt for the tiniest bit, adumbrating a curtsy. 'What do you think of my dress, Mr Black?'

His eyes travelled over her dress, though he did, of course, know better than to linger. 'Bewitching. You're even more gorgeous than usual today, Daphne,' he answered with another small smile.

Daphne blinked. She knew perfectly well that Harry was capable of being charming. It was just that he never chose to be if the occasion didn't demand it of him. And while this party was certainly a lot more prissy than she would have liked, there was still no reason for him to force it like this. His expression, she concluded after a second, seemed honest enough, if possibly a little restless. What's going on here?

'Is that so?' She raised her eyebrow, unconvinced. Emulating the stupid simpering of her grandmother, she continued in a formal tone, 'Then, surely, you wouldn't deny the guest of honour a dance if she were to ask it of you?'

He seemed to consider this for the fraction of a second, then his smile returned. This time, she couldn't quite place it. As quick as lightning, his dark wand flashed for a second, the lining of his robes turning progressively darker until they perfectly matched the midnight blue of her dress. 'Certainly not!' With another bow, he offered her his hand. 'Lead the way, my lady,' he said, playing along.

Daphne stared at him. Tracey, she noticed, was staring, too. Amy seemed to watch the whole spectacle with mild interest, sitting in a comfy armchair and drinking her Firewhiskey, eyes darting from her to Harry, idly awaiting the conclusion.

Daphne cleared her throat in an effort to overcome her stupor. 'Thank you,' she replied neutrally, taking his hand. It was quite warm.

And Harry, to her complete amazement, smiled again, following her towards the area where mostly young couples and the older crowd danced. He gently placed his other hand on her waist, gazing into her eyes as if daring her to look away first. 'Shall we?'

This time, Daphne didn't even remember to clear her throat. Words failed her. It was just Harry's gleaming green eyes and a lot of background noise. Daphne nodded.

Half a room away, the eyes of Tracey and the rest followed the pair of them with varying degrees of befuddlement.

'Well,' commented Amy airily, inclining her head just a tad and summing up all of their thoughts, 'that's new.'

---

AN: Arcturus told him not to overdo it, but there he goes. I know the last bit may seem like a complete turnaround, but it might be wise to wait for the next bit written from Harry's POV. I've decided to cut the chapter at this point because, frankly, it got out of hand again.

(I) Clarification about my take on magic:

I've come across someone saying that I'm heading for some of the more stereotypical tropes of fandom magical theory like magical cores or something. That is not the case. I've thought a lot about how I would have liked magic to be(have) in canon, and Black Luminary will mirror many of my thoughts without straying too far from canon (except where it's necessary). So while there certainly is a lot of theory involved, especially for the characters (I don't want to go overboard in the actual story with it), magic is still – ultimately – magic; a strange, unseizable and completely separate entity from traditional science. Harry's perception is one of the most important points of the plot yet to be introduced and has completely magical reasons (no, he's not the second coming of Merlin). I won't say anything more, but it might be smart to keep an eye on it.