Saturday January 11th, 1992
In the drawing room of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the residence's owner and grandsire sat across each other, faces scowling in a battle of fierce stubbornness.
"Any apology you offer is worthless unless it includes one to Remus."
Arcturus scoffed at the dismissal. "If I were to apologize to a werewolf, I would be a hypocrite to claim I care about the wellbeing of our family."
Sirius growled at the rebuttal. "Remus isn't a danger to the family."
"Heh, then by all means," The elder waved dramatically, "have him visit the house on a full moon. I'm sure you and Harry will be in perfect health come morning."
The side of a fist slammed against the cushioned armrest. "Don't you dare bring Harry into this!" Sirius snarled.
"He is your ward and thus your responsibility. That boy is a part of this discussion whether you like it or not."
"Remus would never hurt him, or anyone else. He knows how to manage on a full moon."
"And when not on a full moon?" Arcturus sneered. "You forget that his disgusting disease can affect others even when he's in human form."
"Again, he is responsible." Sirius strained. "I've known him since our Hogwarts days. He has never put himself in a dangerous situation."
Arcturus tapped a curled finger on his own armchair. "All it takes is one time, Sirius. One mistake, one badly placed ward, one badly timed arrival. One slip up and that werewolf will cause unimaginable havoc."
"Oh for goodness sake!" Sirius leapt to his feet. His body tensed, as though ready to pounce. "I'm not going to end a lifelong friendship just because of your insane fears over some hypothetical nonsense!"
Tap! Tap! Tap! Above them, an owl pecked at the sunlit window.
The slight distraction snagged at Sirius' rage. Catching his stance at last, Sirius plopped back onto his armchair. "Kreacher! Get the owl!" He yelled towards the door, knowing that the house elf would hear him regardless of his location. He then turned back towards his grandfather. Both of them with darkened faces and deep scowls.
Whatever this letter is better be important enough to shoo the old man away. If it isn't, I'll just lie and claim it is. The sooner he's out of here, the better. What was I thinking letting him come over here?
As expected, the house elf popped into the room and retrieved a package from the unknown owl. As it happened, the two men remained in stony silence. A battle of stares not willing to let up. After a moment of continued silence, Sirius kept his stare while speaking a demand to the elf. "Who is it?"
"Tis none of master's business." Kreacher grumbled.
That response caused Sirius to break the staring contest. "What did you say?" he snapped.
"Tis none of master's business." Kreacher repeated, smirking at his literal obedience.
The master of the house growled deeply. He sprung from his seat. "Don't move!" he ordered. If his experiences of exorcising the relics of House Black taught him anything, it's to always make sure his house elf couldn't disappear with half of the things he wants to take away. Kreacher didn't budge, as ordered, though the death glare he sent at his master was obvious. Truthfully, the act was shocking enough that Arcturus lost his own glare to gawk at the impudence of the house elf's actions. Reaching Kreacher, Sirius ripped the package out of the house elf's hands and turned it over to see the writing.
To: Kreacher
From: The Good Witch
Sirius turned his head to the house elf. "What the hell is this?"
The house elf refused to meet his eye. Instead he looked only at the package. "Package is written to Kreacher. It's Kreacher's to open."
"Oh no you don't." In sheer stubbornness and frustration Sirius marched back to his seat and ripped open the palm-sized package. Inside was an old wooden box and a message written on a small square of parchment. He read it outloud for the room to hear.
Dear Kreacher,
Your Master's death is not in vain.
As promised, the proof is yours to keep.
Remember your own promise.
Regards,
The Good Witch
Sirius frowned at the message. Several questions came to mind, from the identity of this mysterious Good Witch to the death she referred to.
"Who is she talking about?" Arcturus carefully asked.
"That's what I'd like to know." Sirius answered, eyes still on the letter. Determined, he opened the small wooden box. Inside was an oval locket decorated with a snake curved in the shape of an S. He lifted it by the chain, allowing it to turn slowly with gravity. In its slow spin, the contents of the locket revealed its damaged insides of broken glass.
A voice of awe spoke at his side. "Miss has kept her promise." His hand reached gently towards the locket, though his feet could not move. "Miss has destroyed the locket." His arm unable to go farther, Kreacher fell to his knees. Tears rolled down his wrinkled face. More shocking than that, Kreacher was smiling. "The good miss witch destroyed it! Thank you, Miss! Thank you! Master's death is not in vain!"
The two Blacks stared at the house elf in shock. Slowly Sirius turned towards the locket. Its mysteries just grew fourfold. "Kreacher…" He began, surprisingly gentle. "What is this? Why did this need to be broken?"
Kreacher sniffled through his tears, eyes transfixed on the locket. Realizing the gravity of the house elf's emotions, Sirius brought the locket over to the house elf's ever-reaching arms. Kreacher clasped it and held it against his chest lovingly. After two more sniffs, he looked to the two wizards watching him with cautious fascination. "Kreacher must tell master the truth about great Master Regulus."
In the great hall of Hogwarts, the Boy Who Lived and his Slytherin yearmate sat across each other, faces scowling in a battle of fierce stubbornness.
"There's got to be something I can do." Harry muttered.
"If there is, I don't see it." Draco replied. His tone was surprisingly neutral, all things considered.
"You two have no choice, mate." Blaise Zabini reasoned. "It's a stalemate."
"He's right." Justin added. "You can probably push it for two more moves, but it's just putting off the inevitable."
The pair of competing boys glared at the wizard chessboard, their hopes of victory vanishing with each second. Finally, they each groaned their frustrations and slumped in defeat.
"I'll admit, I'm impressed." Draco grounded out, though he still eyed the board with disdain. "I thought I'd win all three rounds. You're improving, Potter."
"Thanks, I suppose." Harry responded. "I got so close!"
"At the rate you're going, I'm sure you'll have a few wins at the tournament." Blaise encouraged offhandedly.
"Oh, I wasn't planning on competing-"
"What's this?" A voice exclaimed, causing the four boys to turn up. Above them, professor Quirrell watched them with an excitable gleam in his eye.
"Good afternoon, professor." Justin greeted the man. The other three echoed the greeting out of politeness.
"Good afternoon, boys." Quirrell smiled. "Ah, h-having some practice, I see. Exc-cellent! Chess is a brilliant way to improve in battle strategy, you know. I imagine your g-grades will improve as well while you're at it!" He peered over the board with an inquisitive eye. "A stale-mate, eh?" He chuckled. "A frustrating en-deavour, BUT, in a true fight it means you both live to see another day. You b-both survived, well done!"
The two competitors regarded each other for a moment, their expressions curious as they considered the professor's words. Finally, Harry gave a shrug and both gained a small smile in the process.
Draco turned back to the professor with an air of noble gratitude. "Thank you, Professor."
"You are welcome, Mister Malfoy." Quirrell replied warmly. "I h-hope to see your improvements come the tourn-nament. You boys have much potential." With a knowing smile, the professor bid them a good day and left them to their game.
Harry watched the professor as he made his exit. The man's encouragement and advice swirled in his head. Perhaps, he felt, competing won't be such a bad idea.
"So, Potter, care for another chance to lose?" Draco drawled. Harry turned back to the boy. A playful and catlike smile graced the blond boy's face in a bait of challenge.
Harry returned the smile with his own edge of competitiveness. "You're on, Malfoy."
Later that night, Harry found himself back on the seventh floor. Leaning against the wall, he watched patiently as Melly paced through the hall. A silent wish made three times allowed a door to appear, and Melly skipped towards it with an eager giggle.
"You're awfully excited." He commented. "How long has it been since you've been in a music studio?"
His friend hummed distractedly. "Oh, I didn't think of a studio."
"No?" His head curled curiously. "Wasn't that the whole point? I mean, besides the other reason, that is."
"Well, yes, but not for today." She put a hand on the door, then paused to look at Harry with a mischievous grin. "For you see Harry, we are back here at Hogwarts." She sang, pushing the door open. "We are back here at school! " They both walked in, and Harry's eyes went wide at the sight before him. "Did you know that here at Hogwarts, we've got a hidden swimming pool! "
"This is amazing!" He gasped. The room had transformed completely. Gone were the junk and ratty objects. Instead a large, gleaming pool lay across the space. A slight steam beckoning them to come closer.
Beside him, Melly seemed to release a relaxed breath. "Now, this made it all worth it. …Hold on." She walked over to the side of the pool and knelt down, dipping her fingers into the water. Closing her eyes, she gave an airy chuckle. "It's even heated! I didn't think that would actually work but, oh, this is glorious!"
Harry took to scanning the room, his eyes catching a sight of cloth. "It even made towels and swim trunks. This is brilliant! Huh, I don't see any for girls, though."
"Don't need it!"
A rustle of clothes caught his ear. He turned around to find Melly had discarded her robe already and was in the process of pulling off her tie. "What are you doing?!" He yelped.
"I've got a swimsuit on already." She excused dismissively. Her hand waved carelessly as the tie fell to the floor, then went down to lift up her shirt. "Come on, kid, you don't think I would straight up strip in front of you, do y-".
SLAM!
The door banged loudly as it slammed open, catching Harry face-first to Professor Snape's wand. In under a second, the professor's own face turned from a harsh glare into a look of mortification.
"What on-?"
"EEE!" SPLASH!
A loud shriek pulled Harry's attention away from the professor, just in time to see Melly fall straight into the pool. "Melly!" He ran towards her, worried as he saw her body thrash about. In the struggle, Harry noticed that her arms and head were still stuck inside the shirt. "Hold on! Wingardium leviosa!" The spell struck true, as he pulled the shirt -and the girl's head- above the water. He was relieved to hear her gasp for air. Moreso for her to remove the shirt and grasp the ledge. "Are you alright?"
"No!" She gasped angrily. "What- the hell- was that!" She finally turned to the door, catching Professor Snape's conflicted expression. "REALLY?" She shrieked in exasperation.
"Let's get you out of the water." Harry muttered quickly. He felt both confused and nervous by the awkwardness of the whole situation.
"Mister Potter... Miss Bennett… what is going on here?" The man queried.
Harry answered straight away. "Uh… we wanted to go for a swim, sir."
"A swim?" The man looked around the room. Reasonably confused, considering the location …and its lack of normal existence.
"Yes, sir."
"I see." Professor Snape's attention went back to them, observing Melly as she pulled herself out of the water, coughing all of the while. "Tell me… how did you discover the existence of this room?"
"...My uncle Sirius told us about it."
"Took a damn eternity to find the right door, though!" Melly gruffed out. Weirdly, she didn't even seem to acknowledge her head of house as she added to the lie. Instead she focused on removing a wet shoe, glaring at it as water poured out.
A click from the man's tongue brought Harry's attention back to him. "Very well. Do not be tardy for curfew."
With a swish, the man turned and quickly strode out of the room, not even giving the courtesy to close it. Harry immediately went to the door and closed it. In a silent wish, he was surprised to find a lock manifest for them to use. Taking advantage of that, he locked the door and went back to his friend. "Melly, are you alright?"
"Of course I'm not alright! Look at my shoes! They're soaked!"
Harry bit back a huff of laughter. "That's alright, they'll dry off later." With an offered hand, he helped Melly onto her feet and led her over to a handlebar for the clothes to dry. "That was an odd mention, about the door. You think he'll wonder why Sirius never told us?"
"Eh, it doesn't matter. I just said it to explain why we've been coming here."
"I thought the pool was a good enough reason?"
Melly shook her head. "He's usually in the dungeons, but he knew we were coming here. That's why he slammed the door open. Only explanation I can think of is that he noticed us looking for this place at the start of last term."
Harry felt bemused by the explanation. "You figured all that out while half-drowning?"
The girl shrugged as she slung a stocking on the bench. "Slytherin, remember? Though he definitely failed the spy exam barging in like that. If you catch someone being sneaky you don't go around being obvious that you've caught them being sneaky! Honestly, you'd think the man would be an expert by now!"
Harry couldn't help but give an embarrassed chuckle at her whinging. Guess I should take her advice, then. "So how would you go about it, Oh Miss Slytherin?"
Melly rolled her eyes and shook her head. Though a small smile did manage to break through. "Well, second to 'not being obvious' is to just spy on them. Listen to what people are saying when they think no one's around to hear them, and then get all the information you need to -I don't know- blackmail them or whatever else you want to do with that information."
"I'll be sure to take that to heart." Harry answered carelessly. "For now… I think a warm swim might cheer you up. What do you say?"
Left with only a swimsuit on, the girl side eyed the pool and sighed despondently. "I suppose I might as well."
"It'll be fine, Melly." He patted her on the back. "Take your time. I'll be in once I grab a pair of trunks..."
Sunday January 12th, 1992
After a hearty lunch Harry walked into the library, returning to where he left Hermione half-hidden behind a stack of books.
"Afternoon, Hermione." He greeted the girl quietly. She hummed a quick acknowledgement, although her eyes remained on the book out in front of her. Harry took a seat, knowing that he won't get much out of the girl for a while. Instead, he perused the collection of books on the table. Large tomes of alchemy, famous wizards, cursed objects, and countercurses for dark spells piled one after the other. While some of those books didn't make a connection for him, Harry picked out one that did -a book on cursed objects- and started his own search.
After about fifteen to twenty minutes of silent reading, Hermione closed her book and exhaled a large breath. Then, a moment later, she must have looked up at the table, as she then exclaimed a quiet "Oh! Hello, Harry. I didn't see you come in."
Harry looked up from his book with an amused smile. "Hello, Hermione. Have you had any luck since this morning?"
"I've had some." She nodded. Turning the book open, again, she produced a particular page and turned it to Harry. "I found some information about the philosopher's stone. It's considered an alchemy feat of legend. One that can turn any metal into pure gold and can produce an elixir of life, making the drinker immortal."
Harry skimmed over the description while listening to Hermione's explanation. He pondered it over, thinking back to Friday and the words Melly had spoken to the cursed locket. "This is great, Hermione. ...Have you found anything on the horcrux yet?"
"None." Hermione sighed. "We still don't even know if it's a curse, an object, a spirit, or a magical creature. This would be much easier if we simply asked Madam Pince."
"I know." This time it was Harry's turn to sigh. "But I can't. You agreed not to, too."
"I know that, Harry, but I don't understand why this is so important." Hermione stressed.
Harry bit his lip. He was already asking a lot of Hermione to research these things with him. The thought of so many secrets and unknowns weighed on him. That considered, he decided to take a page out of Caireen's book, but also take things slow. Resolved, he produced a piece of parchment and gave it to Hermione. "It's partially because of this." He answered.
Hermione opened the roll of parchment and gave it a read over. "A poem? No, wait, this is a song, isn't it? Aren't the Weird Sisters a band?"
"They are, but take a look at the words of the song." Harry said encouragingly. "Does anything about it feel… familiar? I mean with Hogwarts, not the Greek story."
A silence fell between them. Hermione studied the parchment in front of her. Her mouth muttered at times, reading some sections, only to glance back to earlier portions.
"Well the Cerberus is certainly similar. …Hold on!" Hermione exclaimed, going back to an earlier section. Harry tried to hide a smile as he knew what she would realize. "I won't leave you to death's snare. I journey down to the devil's lair. After the cerberus there's a grove of devil's snare!"
A hint of Harry's knowing smile peeked through. "There's more than that. Keep going."
Alight with clarity, Hermione read on. "The dark king and his queen in white. That has to be something, right? The king and queen are obviously Hades and Persephone …but Persephone is a goddess of spring. She wouldn't be in white. At least… no, there aren't any rhymes for it, this was deliberate." She looked up again to Harry with a realization. "You've won this game. So it's the chess tournament?"
"It's more than that." Harry replied. "It can't just be a chess tournament. The people running the tournament are the same third years that were looking into the cerberus."
"So there's a chessboard after the devil's snare." Hermione concluded.
"Along with some other challenges." Harry added with a nod.
"So this whole song is just a clue to passing the challenges?" Hermione asked. Harry didn't answer immediately. Truthfully he wasn't entirely sure, himself. Had his Seeing friend done it by accident? On purpose? She certainly seemed wary of anything to do with the third floor corridor. Then again, she also didn't want anyone to know about her sight. Harry was already trying to find the best way to explain things to Hermione without putting his older friend at risk. Hopefully Hermione will be understanding of all of this.
While Harry thought things over, Hermione took his silence as a chance to turn back to the parchment of lyrics. "There must be more to it, then. Something fading to grey. Whatever is being guarded down there, at least. In reflection to my love. It's not a normal phrase, so something about reflections must be relevant. My one eternal love. Eternal…"
Both of them snapped their heads up at once in realization. "The Philosopher's Stone!"
"Headmaster, surely we can't allow this tournament to take place?" Severus argued to the older man. "Quirrell is sponsoring the tournament. That can't be a coincidence!"
"You're right, dear boy, it's not." Dumbledore answered. His eyes twinkled in mirth. "In fact, it's so obvious that we can keep a proper eye of his intentions, rather than grasp at shadows."
His reply came slow and hesitating. "I suppose it's not quite so damaging."
"Indeed." He paused for a beat. "Have you found what your wayward student has been searching for?"
Severus' expression drooped. "I have." His memory of bursting into the room the other day flashed before him, to his embarrassment. "It appears there is a leisure pool hidden on the seventh floor."
Dumbledore's reply was equal parts humoured and bemused. "I wasn't aware we had a pool …besides the ones for prefects and the one for teachers, of course. Ah, but Hogwarts is always full of surprises!"
That night at his London flat, Sirius, Remus, and Marcello sat beneath the glow of the waxing moon. There, under the security of privacy wards and friendship, the two marauders drank firewhisky and talked quietly to each other while the third man completed his final series of checks of the small wooden box. It had been a hard weekend for Sirius. One full of questions, answers, and more questions. He told Remus of his brother's final moments. The truths and lies of his younger brother. The one he both loved for his youthful innocence and hated for his dedication to their family's dark principles. They spoke together in assurances of forgiveness and hatred and regret. As they reached the end of their darker emotions, Marcello walked back to the group and poured his own glass.
"I've checked everything I could. Neither the box or locket contain any tracking spells, poisons, curses, or anything else worthy of danger. That said, Sirius, you should have come to me before opening it. You left yourself exposed to the whims of an unknown person."
Sirius tried his best to not appear chastised. "I wasn't thinking. My grandfather was being a pain in the ass and my house elf a bigger one, still."
Remus took the mention of the house elf as a cue. Eyeing the letter, his body shifted into a pose of deep contemplation. "Did he say who this witch is?"
"Not a word." Sirius answered. "It's odd. He talked for ages about Regulus and You-Know-Who. Even went into detail about how he tried to destroy the damn thing. Yet he won't say who finally got it done. Even when I tried to order him, he was willing to punish himself instead of answering. He's a miserable old crup, but I couldn't stand to see him break his fingers."
In a moment of pause, Remus took a swig of his drink and contemplated the situation. "Whomever she is, she must have waited until you were out of the house to reach him."
"But I almost always leave by floo. How could she have known?"
"I'm not sure." Remus confessed.
"That's not the only concern." Marcello added. "Grimmauld Place is designed to track those who enter or exit the premises. An unwelcome guest would not be allowed in unless by permission of the owner. You, in this case."
"I don't know how I feel about all this." Sirius gave a weary sigh. "On the one hand, someone showed up like a miracle and managed to destroy something important to You-Know-Who…"
"On the other hand," Remus added, "what we don't know is the Who or Why. Not even the How."
"Exactly!" Sirius whined. "None of it makes sense, all I know for sure is that it doesn't sit right with me. I mean, why bother? It can't be because she doesn't like You-Know-Who, or else why not go to me? Instead she went to my house elf, behind my back."
"Maybe there was an exchange?" Remus suggested. "He gave her something of yours in return?"
Sirius shook his head. "Kreacher said she only offered to give the locket back as proof, nothing more."
"Padfoot, if that's the case, what's to stop this witch from coming back to call in a favour?"
Sirius leaned back in his chair. "I've been asking myself that question the past two days. …Whatever it is, I hope I'm wrong about this woman being a dark witch."
While the younger men debated and comforted each other about the unknown qualities of the strange package, Marcello took hold of the letter and read it once more. Its familiar script echoing its own questions. The same curiosity he held when the magical signature was revealed on the wooden box and confirmed his suspicions.
In a short time Marcello had learned the Who of this Good Witch. A step in logic even revealed the How. The Why… Well, his employer's Why was easy enough to discern. His own, however, was not.
Remember your own promise.
"If I find a way to do this, can you promise not to tell anyone about all this?"
The memory of a weeping child entered his thoughts. The girl had been despondent and mournful, then grasped fearfully after a faint and unknown hope. How brash yet cunning her mind worked. Leaping to bizarre conclusions that should have been impossible, yet were precisely what was needed to be discovered. A man was in prison while another man freed all because one girl wanted to make it look like an accident.
Now, once more, his one-time student has procured another miracle. No. Two more miracles. The house elf confirmed that the Good Witch had done this once before. Twice more she has done miracles by destroying dark artifacts when all others could not.
Marcello would be lying if he said that the thought didn't disturb him. The girl was an above average student. Strong in her spellwork, but not brilliant. Not a prodigy by any sense. Yet her intuition and resourcefulness has proven to be impressive. More than that, it was all done away from public view. Promises made twice over to keep her discoveries a secret. Promises made to keep herself a mystery. Why? That was the true question to be asked. Back when he worked at Hogwarts, Marcello thought he knew the answer to that question. Now, though, he has only uncertainty …and a promise to keep.