Hello everyone! I'm so glad I can update. Thank you all for your comments and observations. This one is dialogue heavy. Some of it fun. Some of it set up. As always, let me know what you think.

13K. Enjoy.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-=REVISED 7/22/2023=-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I had some time and thought I thought I'd do some simple revisions-mostly grammar stuff, but also including changing the narrative from present tense to simple past tense. Hopefully, it's a better read this way.

Enjoy!

One in the Death Chamber

Harry had not expected to see Fleur after the weighing of the wand. He was fairly certain she'd stay away after the bluff of his abnormal romantic preferences in favor of pursuing relations with Bill. Recalling his previous timeline, Harry knew the intended pair met the summer after the tournament his fourth year and were engaged to marry less than a year later. He couldn't imagine that was an easy progression for any couple to make unless Bill and Fleur were unquestionably confident they were made for one another. It had always impressed him to think about their love, not unlike the love between Arthur and Molly Weasley—not unlike a love he himself hoped to have. How could he expect any less from Bill and Fleur here and now?

'Unless you destroyed them,' a voice trumpeted in his mind.

Harry mentally forced that gold nugget of misery aside in favor of being surprised by Fleur's attendance with his group rather than with Bill. The stunning girl further aided him again to forget how he was the ruin of all their lives when she asked him to speak with her… privately. Despite the eyes of his group on her or possibly because of it, the French beauty linked her hands gracefully behind her back, setting her shoulder back and her inviting chest out, adding a little sway of her sexy hips and clearly imprinting her womanly silhouette in his perfect memory banks, all so she could ask, "Please."

Harry's knees wobbled a bit at the cute vulnerability of her pleading expression. Clearing his throat, he stiffly nodded before turning to the others and informing them they won't be long. Harry had enough time to wonder about Daphne's cold, focused eyes, Hermione's somewhat defeated posture as Luna gently patted her arm, and the way Nic and Nelle were holding back their smiles. Harry and Fleur walked some meters away, well out of earshot, easily feeling every pair of eyes on them as she led them to some privacy behind a few trees. Though out of earshot and sight, she erected a privacy bubble to prevent eavesdropping.

Fleur smiled easily at him, and he couldn't help the warm feeling under her gaze as he asked, "So, you wanted to talk?"

"Oui," Fleur answered, placing her hands behind her back and overpowering his attention with her smile and bust. "You really are zhe most troublezome star," she mentioned casually. Drawing his brows together confused, he responded, "...um-" to which she offhandedly changed tactics to ask, "'Ow do you feel about love?"

As per usual, Fleur threw him off with the first thing she said. His brows raised as his jaw slacked slightly and his throat felt thicker all the while Fleur seemed genuine in her query, standing before him with the confidence and allure of Aphrodite, as if unaware of the effect she had. He hadn't seen her for a week's time, and though it felt like he'd lost his tolerance of her physical appeal, it was always her general way of being—her words—that always got him flustered and turned about. She was just so hard to expect, and so he cleared his dry and swelling throat as he attempted to answer her question seriously. "I... uh, think- well, I reckon I don't know that there's anything stronger than love." Recalling his parents from his timeline, he couldn't help but add, "It saves lives."

"I agree," Fleur stated, stepping closer, enough so another person wouldn't have the space to pass between them. The way her beautiful blue eyes singled him out, made his heart accelerate when a weaker part of his mind entertained the notion that she couldn't possibly see anyone else like she was looking at him now. He felt like nothing and no one but him existed in her eyes, like she couldn't see anything else.

In her presence, in her full attention, he felt special, and that vulnerability scared him as she further expressed, "We are friends, yes?" Not trusting himself to speak, Harry simply nodded before she continued rather shyly, which was odd for her. "Zhan we must be 'onest wizh one anozher. I 'ave felt somzhing for a boy recently." 'Bill,' was Harry's immediate thought. His stomach tightened as she continued. "'E ees very 'andsome, charming, and does well to resist my allure. Zhough little time 'as passed, I can see een 'im zhe possibility of a life worzh living."

Harry was repulsed at himself by the pang of hurt he felt in his chest when he knew he had no right to feel such a strong reaction. His mind struggled with his denial; he can't be jealous. Bill was great for her. Weren't they the happiest, dancing together at their wedding?

'She didn't call you little boy this time,' a voice from some previously strange part of his mind thought to respond. Begrudgingly, Harry could admit this Fleur responded somewhat differently, but it shouldn't be enough to negate-

'She's loyal and true to who a person really is, despite the scars on their face,' the voice continued to argue. 'Bill had scars first and they were real,' Harry lamely realized. 'Technically, you do too, Mr. Boy-Who-Lived,' the voice returned when Fleur continued.

She laughs lightly as she revealed, "Never before 'ave I felt so unfortunate to meet impressive men, yet zhat ees where I find myzelf. Now I seem to be forced to question what eet ees I truly desire; a zhing I rarely 'ave to ask of myself. I'm used to knowing, you see. Putain, eef only sex was zhe deciding factor. Eet would make zhings so much easier eef eet came down to who gave me zhe best orgasms."

Though Harry blushed by the unexpected as much as the rush of hot blood to hear her talk like that, Fleur simply looked whimsical with a small smile on her face, as if imagining her wish. Harry wasn't sure how to respond; however, he felt certain this was going somewhere.

"Fleur, I care about you… and it's growing to a scary degree," Harry began, taking her by a small measure of surprise, or possibly interest. "Which is why I need to be honest with you too, because I never want you to regret… I never want to be the cause of your pain—ever. I'm lacking…" His eyes on her grow fierce with anxiety, yet he took a difficult step forward as he managed to express with a hand to his chest, "There's something missing in me. I feel broken. Not quite right. And let's face, it. A girl as amazing as you deserves so much more than that. If I'm getting in the way of your happiness-"

"You are not broken," Fleur interrupted, not simply with her words, but leaning in, tilting her chin forward to gently place her petal soft lips against his. It's a light press, warm despite her cold nose, and simply allowing their lips to mold comfortingly together. The searing membrane of her pillow-soft lips only lasted a second against his before she pulled away and Harry's mind flat-lined.

She asserted, "You are simply different." Harry was vaguely aware her lips being away and wishing they were still kissing as she continued, "Different zhan zhose around, different zhan even yourself when you were younger. Eet 'as taken me some time to truly realize what you've said many times. You are different, my troublesome star, so stop trying to make my decisionz for me, yes?"

Eyes were half-lidded, Harry slowly nodded, dumbly so. Her smile was oddly promising as she continued, "Since summer, een one form or anozher, you 'ave been een my zhoughts, een my dreams, een my 'opes. While I feel certain zhat I would be 'appy wizh Beel- Ah! I did not mean to…" Due to Harry's lack of reaction, she asked, "Did you know I was speaking of Beel?"

With a soft chuckle and a knowing smile, a slightly smarter Harry nodded as he replied, "Yeah. I figured."

She returned his smile before continuing. "And eet does not make you jealous?"

"No," he answered, regaining more and more brain function. "I have a feeling he's a good person and would treat you right."

Close as she was, Fleur tilted to the side, giving him a clear view of her elegantly creamy neck under streams of her white-golden hair. Avoiding his eyes, she apprehensively asked, "Would zhat also mean you might entertain zhe notion of, em, I don't know, possibly considering a male lover? And Zhink! Eef you bozh consent, I promise you would never regret eet!"

Her eyes gently snapped to his, as yet again, Harry's train of thought was completely derailed by Fleur's uneven tracks. Eyes large with promise, she swayed her shoulders—which also swayed her torso—and the gentle bob of perky bosom. He let out a gasp of air, clearing his dry throat to answer, "I uh, no. No. Not that I'm aware of or ever considered."

"Oh, come now, Arez," Fleur implored, stomping a foot in a cute manner. "Eet ees not so bad. I squirm in delight at the thought of making love to bozh witches and wizards. Love ees love, non?"

Harry was seriously beginning to question why every little thing Fleur said or did had to be so sexual as he considered answering her with as much honesty as he was capable of thinking of. "Fleur, I'm just not comfortable being intimate with a man. I mean, I would rather let a witch do to me what wizards do to witches, before I'd let a wizard do to me what they do to witches. Love is love, sure, but I can't ever trust them that way… if that makes sense."

"…Eet does. I can unzerstand zhat," Fleur sighed with mild disappointment. "After all zhe many wild fantasies I've 'ad, I needed to try."

With a short chuckle, Harry voiced, "Sorry."

"Eet ees fine. I want us to be 'onest. Eet ees why I wanted to speak wizh you; about Beel, about my feelingz. While I'm- While we are bozh fairly certain Beel is a wonderful man who may 'ave given me a wonderful life, to me, you are like zhe candy I 'ave been told I cannot 'ave. Zhe biggest, sweetest candy I 'ave ever seen."

Harry couldn't keep his mild smile from turning into a snort of humor, before quickly addressing her analogy. "Haven't you heard having too much candy will upset your stomach?"

Harry had a fair idea why he couldn't keep the grin off his face when the always-quick Fleur met his expectation, "Mnn, I zhink I like zhe sound of you upsetting my insides wizh your sweetness."

Harry snorted as his many mental perspectives all agreed, 'this girl.' Harry couldn't deny he desired her, he was sinfully wanton of her; however, he was also nervous, frightened even. Out of everything he hadn't ever planned on, this would have to be at the top of the list. Not simply because of Bill, but also because it meant allowing someone in; closer than he had in an exceedingly long time. Harry understood, before the space between them all but disappeared, the last step forward was the only step he needed to decide on.

'Can I have this?'

He found it a miracle he was even daring to ask the question, jostling him by how much he'd strayed from his intended path. Whereas before, anything more than Voldemort's head on a disposable platter felt like wishful thinking and a waste of time besides, now, the consideration of a possible after—like Fleur—would not be ignored. 'Can I have this?' His great burden had yet to be put down, like the feral dog it was, and yet this enchantress before him felt as if she was challenging his commitment. It was enough to double his already fast heart rate, shorten his breath, and daze his vision with twinkling stars.

"What are you zhinking of?" Fleur softly asked, likely detecting bits of his turmoil with her veela talents.

Without hesitation, he admitted, "I'm wondering if I can have this. Whether I should..."

"Zhis scarez you?" she asked.

"Infinitely," he whispered back.

"Are you not scared when you fight madmen or 'ordes of acromantula?"

He answered, "Honestly, no."

"But zhe prospect of 'appiness scares you?"

He wasn't certain how much she knew, but in keeping with this honest spirit of theirs, he answered, "…I have to kill arguably the greatest Dark Lord in the history of magic, and when that day comes, I'm fairly certain it'll be the last day I live. As long as you all survive, I'll be happy with that."

Fleur took a moment to absorb his response before asking, "…Whezher or not you and I were coupling—often I should 'ope—would you still kill zhis dark lord?"

"Nothing could ever stop me from ending him," Harry ardently answered. "But how can I do that worrying about you and the others, or Merlin help me, if he kills one of you?"

"You can because you 'ave to," Fleur easily told him, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "Weel eet be difficult? Yes. Weel eet cost? Undoubtedly. 'Owever, wizhin you, I see nozhing zhat cannot be achieved… Eef you say eet, eet ees, because eet can 'appen. And do not zhink for one second I will not be beside you to 'elp… or behind you… on my back, knees, or on top. 'Owever you need, really," she stated happily with a knowing smirk and hungry eyes.

Despite his paper-thin knees, Harry took that final step forward, easily delighting in her warmth, like the summer sun on a brisk day. They both grinned, eyes shy to connect with one another, but highly motivated by their growing sensations and stroking urges. In a gentle way, Fleur rested her right hand on his chest over his rapidly beating heart. Harry responded with his hand on her hip, his growing urge taking momentary control enough to squeeze her fevered flesh possessively with want. He was instantly nervous by the forward move but at her gentle moan, Harry's vibrant green eyes finally locked on her dark blues, finding reflected in them a fierce hunger that stole any resistance he had left in him.

So entranced Harry was by the woman pressing against him, he was completely taken by surprise when Draco stomped from around a tree, calling out loudly, "hope I'm not interrupting anything!"

"Malfoy-" Harry started but was interrupted by Draco with a stern finger, who seemed just as irate as he and Fleur were. Draco abruptly asked loudly, "What are you arguing about this time?" Harry wasn't sure why the blond ferret was speaking with a raised voice or more importantly why he hadn't left. Harry extended Muffliato and demanded to know, "Draco-"

"You couldn't do whatever this is later?" Draco hotly demanded of Harry. "Tracey and I were nearly to the castle when Daphne comes running with her knickers in a twist, spouting some nonsense about you two, and now I'm here wasting my time with you instead of swelling Tracey's lips!"

"Well, you've certainly returned zhe favor," Fleur coldly leveled with more irritation than Harry expected to hear. Draco himself hadn't realized he'd annoyed Fleur to such an extent and suddenly became very cautious of her glare.

"Okay, listen," Draco tried to placate her. "You know I don't care what you do but other people care enough to bother Tracey who then bothers me with your bullshite. So, you know, a bit of decorum please. For my sanity."

Fleur deflated of her acute irritation, turning softer eyes on Harry as she told him, "I do not know what a future wizh you will bring, but I love daring, I love challenge, and life ees already an adventure wizh you. I weel not cower simply because zhe life ees more difficult. Love does save, so you 'ave my answer and…"

She placed a soft peck on his lips before stepping away and looking in the direction of the group. Harry could feel her immense release of allure, clouding some of his mind yet not enough for him to relinquish control.

'Somehow, her kiss felt stronger,' Harry mentally noted as he held an enthralled Draco back by his shoulder.

After some moments, Fleur turned to them and explained, "Uwah, 'Ermionee and Daphne are very anxious." Toning down her allure, she continued, "I know you weesh for 'Ermionee to join us, but what of Daphne?"

"Join you for what?" Draco asked them as he regained discipline over himself.

"Uh, I never said I wanted Hermione to join-" he halted himself from his surprise when he realized Fleur meant an actual polygamous union. "…I mean, I never thought something like this-" he halted himself again when he realized how far on board Fleur actually was "… are you really okay with something like this?"

Fleur rolled her eyes good-naturedly before stating, "My Darling Star, I weel need you to be much faster zhan zhis."

"What is this?" Draco asked with a hint of concern. "Somebody care to explain to me what's going on?"

"Really, Fleur, we need to talk about this," Harry tried but Fleur shook her head.

"No need," Fleur happily stated. "We shall play possum for zhe moment. We pretend nozhing ees any different while I…" She took a moment to consider her words, finishing, "while I begin laying zhe 'groundwork' eef you will, starting wizh 'Ermionee. Zhen we strike when zhe moment ees most opportune. We do eet zhe French way! Divide and conquer!"

"Wow, um, Fleur…" A voice in Harry's head simply cut him off to exhaustively ask, 'Why are you fighting it? Look at her eyes. They're set on fighting all the Molly Weasleys in the world.' Harry felt as exhausted as the voice, and like plaster best ripped off quickly, Harry nodded his head, expressing, "Okay. Okay… Merlin, I'm actually saying okay," he cursed with a wide-eyed huff. "Um, we'll keep this to ourselves for now and I want to be the one to actually tell them, okay?"

"Oui monsieur," Fleur agreed with a brilliant smile before heading back.

After Harry settled his whirlpool of emotions, he walked out from behind the tree's cover, followed by Draco, who was quietly trying to make sense of what he witnessed. Halfway back to the others, Harry was concerned by the forlorn look on Hermione's face and the statuesque stoicism on Daphne's when Draco pulled him by the elbow, turning him around. Judging by the gutted look on Draco's face, Harry wondered if the silver-blond stumbled onto what happened.

"You… no bloody way!" Draco nearly yelled.

"Will you shut it!" Harry quickly demanded. "You can't tell a soul, you hear me? Especially not Tracey."

"She…" Draco started, looking at Fleur talking to her sister. "Her! With a tosser like you? No. Tell me—tell me she didn't agree. Tell me a bird like that isn't up for a wanker like you in the middle—"

"What did I bloody just say, Malfoy!" Harry whispered emphatically. "Not one word! Not one!"

Draco just stared in utter disbelief between him and the farther Fleur, slowly shaking his head in denial. Looking at Harry again, pained even, Draco slowly raised his hand. Harry wasn't sure what he was doing, or why the silver-blond stated, "I'm not attacking you," before he lightly patted Harry's cheek. It was nowhere near strong enough to be a slap, and it confused Harry enough to stand there when Draco did it again, proclaiming further, "this isn't an attack of any kind."

"Hey-" Harry tried but was interrupted with another tap to the face. "Stop-" he retorted when Draco continued his light pats against Harry's face, quickly graduating to using both hands. Harry tried to stop these non-attacks by swiveling his head, but Draco moved forward and erratically kept patting his scarred face all the while proclaiming he wasn't an enemy or harboring any ill-will. Attempting his best to evade the face tapping, Harry returned pats of his own, calling Malfoy a "barmy git," among other similar offenses as they pity-patted each other's dodging face.

"What are you two doing?" Perenelle's befuddled voice broke through their weird skirmish. "Stop… whatever this is, this instant!" They didn't stop until Perenelle physically separated them, like two hot-headed eight-year-olds on the playground. They were both huffing and annoyed with one another when Perenelle continued, "I don't know what that sad display was about, but we have company, so please act well above your ages, or so help me, I'll pull your ears until you shake hands and say you're sorry."

Sure enough, Harry spotted Lily and Sirius beside a confused Tracey, poorly restraining their mirth. Harry was mortified. Though the silver-blond Slytherin was not suicidal enough to attack Harry with serious intent, as they were both aware of what the loyalty oath would do to him, Draco was clearly having just as hard a time accepting this as Harry was. As he walked toward the snickering audience, Harry didn't doubt he'd ever live down that idiotic slap-fest.

"Heir Flamel," Sirius grinned broadly.

Nova landed on his shoulder as Harry groaned a little, glumly acknowledging them both. "Auror. Professor."

After giving Harry one final odd look, Nicolas inquired of Sirius, "So, you said you had news regarding the task."

"Yes," Lily answered, smacking an amused Sirius. Realizing Daphne, Astoria, Tracey, Draco, Hermione, Luna, Fleur, and Gabrielle were listening intently, Lily turned to Perenelle and suggested, "Perhaps we should speak in private."

"That's unnecessary," Harry stated. Minus Astoria and Gabrielle, he assured them, "I'm just going to tell them later anyway."

"How much do you tell them?" a sharper Sirius asked with official curiosity.

"Pretty much everything," Harry lightly answered. Sensing Sirius was asking about Voldemort, he added, "Including Tom Riddle."

With a stiff nod and a quick eye to Lily and Tracey, Sirius responded, "Be that as it may, I'd feel more comfortable discussing this strictly with house Flamel."

"Dumbledore also felt more comfortable keeping relevant information from people," Harry pointed out.

"Well, we do have little ones in attendance," Perenelle spoke up before suggesting, "why don't we meet in our residence here? I'll put the kettle on."

As a result of Sirius' stiff nod, Perenelle needed three kettles as the gruff auror, his boss Amelia Bones, Lily Potter, Hardwin Potter, Remus Lupin, Daphne, Draco, Tracey, Hermione, Luna, Fleur, Nicolas, and Perenelle all found themselves in the Flamels extended dormitory, seated around an extended table. Harry helped Perenelle in the kitchen with the tea so as to stay away from Sirius, Remus, and Lily as often as possible. But before they could set the first cup down, Amelia Bones addressed the gathering.

The strict witch said, "I don't feel comfortable discussing such distressing topics with underage witches and wizards."

"I must agree," Remus added, looking around the younger students. "Hardwin and Ares I can understand as they're more severely impacted, however-"

The scrapping of the chair against the wood floor grabbed their attention as Hermione stood and orated with a clear voice, "While I certainly understand your point of view, Madame Bones, Professor Lupin, and to some extent, I agree with you. But keeping this group from this discussion would also be doing us a great disservice. Ares' involvement expressly means our involvement as well. Keeping us ignorant of the dangers ahead doesn't mean we won't face them for our friend. You may very well believe you're asking us to leave to protect ourselves, but, in actuality, you're asking us to abandon our friend, which I will not do."

Sirius responded kindly, stating, "Miss Granger, what we're saying is information like this can be a taxing burden on your perception of safety and the peace of mind that brings. Imagine living your days always being scared of what may occur, what's behind every corner, or how you may die. I've already encountered students who don't feel safe in Hogwarts. I've even heard from other parents how their children didn't feel safe last week when Ares was absent."

"With all due respect Auror Black," Hermione cut in. "While I don't enjoy boasting, the truth is I am literally the smartest witch in our class; Daphne is right on my heels. Out of every Beauxbaton student, Fleur was chosen by the Goblet to be her school's Champion. We are not burdened by intelligence, knowledge, or the wisdom necessary to wield it responsibly. I've already fought in close proximity to protect those I care about, and we survived because we were informed. Because Ares informed us. I trust him more than anyone within and out of this room, and if he thinks I should be here, then, respectfully, I'm not leaving."

Harry wasn't the only one surprised by Hermione's staunch defiance, but he was the only one who could appreciate her return to form. Her desire to protect her friends surpassed even his at times, and he always drew strength from her unwavering defense. His gaze was broken when Fleur, who was sitting beside Hermione, winked at him before looking at Hermione while biting her lower lip with primal hunger. Harry quickly returned to his tea preparation, clearing his hormonal mind and throat before addressing the room.

"For the record, I do want them here," Harry said. "They have my trust as much as I can trust anyone."

"Including a Malfoy," Sirius asked, eyeing Draco seated comfortably next to Tracey.

Again, Harry hated vouching for the face-patting git, but responded nonetheless, "Just this one."

Sirius, Lily, Amelia, and Remus remained quite uncomfortable but kept their reservations to themselves as the calm Remus took the lead. "Sirius, Amelia, and I have seen the memory of your conversation with Lily, as well as what Dumbledore and Umbridge seem to be putting you through."

"Seem to?" Nicolas gasped. "They as good as happily admitted taking his magic away or imprisoning him in Azkaban."

"But they didn't actually admit it," Remus sadly stated, gently informing them the law wouldn't work simply with the evidence of the memory.

"What was scheduled by Undersecretary Umbridge was most certainly not a hearing like a defendant on trial would receive," Amelia stated. She turned to Harry, adding, "You are not under arrest nor are you being charged… that I am aware of. Due to the political implications, I am obligated to defer to the Minister on that. Through Undersecretary Umbridge, the Wizengamot has requested to be present, but this is no more than a simple testimonial, or statement, provided by you in a hyper-formal setting. Auror Black and I will be the ones asking pertinent questions with regard to our investigation. It's true it will be before a few members of the Wizengamot, but should they require clarity at any point, they direct their inquiry to us. As the lead investigators, if we deem their question has merit, then we'll ask you. They will not dictate our decision in any way. Despite the audience, your only purpose there is to answer our questions as honestly as you are able and that's it."

"'And that's it,'" Draco scoffed, adding, "like he doesn't have to fight a bloody dragon at the same time as this testimony." They all turn to Draco stunned, and Harry wanted to slap him with much more force for his inane slip.

"Excuse me?" Amelia slowly asked for clarity.

"The first task," Draco continued with smug confidence. "Hasn't anyone noticed the Great Hall's sprouted yet another tomato head during meal times? Minus the parents, the entire Weasley brood are here. Aren't they getting enough food at home?"

"Watch it Malfoy-" Hardwin warned.

Draco ignored him, adding, "Look, of the ones already graduated, one is here to remove runes, the other is Umbridge's lackey, and this new one is a-"

"Dragon handler," Lily interjected with humble recollection. "He told me he was just visiting… and I didn't think…" She eyed her gob-smacked son—the one she's aware of—with obvious worry. Lily wasn't the only one, as Sirius and Remus eye their best friend's son with just as much anxiousness as his mother.

Draco easily asked the room, "And why would Hogwarts, a school devoid of any dragons, need a Dragon Handler a week from the first task?"

"…Very astute observation," Remus tried to say with a professor-like pride, but faltered in the face of what that meant for Hardwin. Harry knew it wasn't an astute observation, but realized it did save him from having to figure out his own way of warning Fleur and Hardwin.

"Regardless of the task," Sirius soldiered on. "We haven't forgotten how you fought off Crouch Jr to protect so many innocents. We made sure Fudge was getting it from all angles and he finally caved."

Amelia continued, "As a Triwizard judge herself, Undersecretary Umbridge has informed us of the order by which the champions will start."

"Which is how she scheduled his testimony so near to the moment he begins?" Perenelle asked.

Amelia nodded before stating, "We've managed to rescheduled your testimony to the member's satisfaction to just before the task begins. It's politics and we're not unaware of how close that is, but I give you my word the entire testimony won't take more than fifteen minutes, including travel. You'll hear the task and rules, we'll use a portkey, answer questions at the Ministry, and come right back."

"You'll be back with plenty of time," Sirius claimed as Hardwin indignantly added, "to fight a bloody dragon?"

"To keep his magic," Daphne corrected the brown-eyed Potter.

"Might I ask what you believe the Undersecretary's objective is here?" Nicolas directed toward Amelia. "I can't help but feel her agenda ends with Ares' complete demise."

"While I can't speculate what her objective is," Amelia began to answer him. "I couldn't imagine she would be so brazen as to conspire to commit murder. Rest assured we will be keeping a closer eye on her movements for the foreseeable future, however, anything we learn, we will deal with under the strict guidelines of the law."

"For her sake, I hope you succeed," Harry told the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with all the gravitas of a serial executioner. No one in that room underestimated the meaning of his clear warning.

"Easy," Perenelle whispered from beside him.

With all the tea and biscuits distributed, Remus was the first to bring up, "I hope I'm not being too forward, but how is it that you've come to learn so much about the Dark Lord?"

Many turn attention from Remus to Harry, who answered, "I'm more surprised no one's asked about that dark tosser till now."

"We may have fumbled the quaffle a bit, I admit," Remus calmly jested. "I suppose what I mean to ask is why you? Though quite unfortunate, Hardwin is the Boy-Who-Lived. It seems he's destined to hinder You-Know-Who-"

"His name is Voldemort," Harry spouted, annoyed as much by the Boy-Who-Lived nonsense as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. "Or Tom Riddle, or better yet Dark Wanker. I prefer parasite. If you can't say his name or flinch at hearing it than maybe this meeting isn't for you. No hard feelings, but if that's the case, I invite any of you to leave before you hear a hell of a lot worse than a name."

Speaking in such a way to his old mentor may have been harsh, but it propelled the difference between himself and the image of James Potter, stunning all into further believing in his alter-identity as Ares Flamel rather than the spitting image of James Potter. And to a small degree, he was simply fed up with the reverence Riddle got simply for being an audaciously charming mass-murderer.

"It's not about lack of bravery or even overbearing fear," Amelia stated. No one left as she explained, "He is a Dark Lord. Not because wizardkind named him such, but because magic has deemed him thus. A Lord by magical standards is a rare entity, possessing a massive amount of power, and we have yet to examine or explain these phenomenal beings. There is much we don't yet know about what makes wizards such as Merlin, the founders, Lord Voldemort, among others, as gifted as they are when it comes to magic. It's about reverence for such power—destructive as it may be at times."

"He's a wall," Harry cut in. "A large, sturdy wall blocking your path, but a wall nonetheless. It's in the way, and if people would break it down instead of worshiping it-"

"What Ares so passionately means to say is," Nicolas cut in. "Dark Lords have always existed and will likely always continue to exist. They may serve a purpose that is not easily seen at the moment or even acceptable in due time, but in most cases, they're never worth the death and suffering."

"Is that what happened to you?" a keen Sirius asked Harry.

As Harry fought off images—flashes, really—pregnant with pain and despair, Perenelle asked, "It is at this point that Nicolas and I must stress how adamant we are Headmaster Dumbledore be kept ignorant of anything we tell you." When Hardwin scoffed, Perenelle added, "While I'm aware many in this room trust his judgment and have so for a very long time now, Nicolas and I do not. We are aware that breaking with a man you've trusted for decades is a difficult thing to do, not so dissimilar from finding out your father is not the man you always that he was, be we ask this of you nonetheless. If that is something you can't abide by, we cannot speak with you."

At the second invitation to leave, no one stood. Sirius, in particular, expressed, "After learning what he's kept from Lily and Hardwin-"

"From all of us," Lily corrected, clearly including Sirius and Remus.

"All of us," Sirius amended. "I'm willing to do anything to make sure James's family always remain safe." Harry moved in closer to his cup of tea, taking a slow sip, and even Perenelle blocked Harry as much as possible without calling attention to them.

"I don't mean to put too fine a point on it," Nicolas told the room. "But we will consider it a breach of trust should he discover what we've gathered through you."

"Then why tell us?" Amelia asked. "You must know with every person you tell, increases the odds of his finding out. Even a mute cannot completely keep their secrets if one knows how to look; whether rifling through their trash, observing their habits, or interrogating the company they keep. And I'm certain the Headmaster is a professional at searching for any answer he seeks."

"The ultimate goal isn't to keep information from him," Harry began. "It's to keep him from doing something counter-productive before all is said and done, but what I mean to say is, to keep him from doing something stupid before all is said and done. There will come a time when what he learns won't matter."

"And when's that?" Hardwin demanded.

Harry answered, "When Riddle is dead and food for flubberworms."

Amelia, Remus, Lily, and Sirius took a moment to absorb the full effect of this meeting. Harry was certain none of them expected to be hearing about how Voldemort may still be alive, how the Dark Lord may continue to threaten their society, or how little Dumbledore trusted them with that information. Harry hadn't done well with the information the first time he learned of it. However, three of the four at the table had Hardwin to protect, and Amelia believed in justice for all, and so they took the news better than Harry had thought they might.

"How is he not dead?" Sirius nearly growled, clearly holding down his rage.

"You'll be able to research and confirm for yourselves, I'm sure," Nicolas started, then turning to Amelia. "You may have more resources than most, and will no doubt want to ask, but I would caution you to assume no avenue you pursue is truly secure. Barty Crouch Jr impersonated an ex-Auror many knew of but no one suspected he was a spy. This information is most damning and many have been sacrificed to keep it from becoming public knowledge."

"For the sake of time," Perenelle spoke up after Nicolas. "I'll refrain from delving too deeply into history. Long before what we would consider the modern era of magic, an ancient wizard of Greece by the name of Herpo the Foul, a genius of the darkest order, achieved a most atrocious breakthrough for attaining immortality. This foul process involves splitting off a piece of one's soul and embedding it into an object, which is then called a Horcrux. In this manner, if the body dies or is destroyed, the soul is still tethered to the earthly plane via the Horcrux. The soul, and therefore, wizard, is neither dead or alive."

The shock on all their faces was clear as day. With the exceptions of Draco, Nicolas, Perenelle, and, to a small extent, Hermione, Daphne, Tracey, and Luna, the rest were horror-stricken with a strong grimace of denial. Lily was gripping Hardwin's shoulder tightly, as if letting go might spirit him away.

"And you're saying," Remus began before clearing his dry throat. "You're attesting Voldemort has created a Horcrux."

"No," Harry answered. He wasn't certain if the seventh Horcrux in his head was destroyed or not, and so he answered, "he created six." As Harry's body was the container for the seventh Horcrux, and the container was, in fact, destroyed in the process of traveling back through time, he couldn't speak to that Horcrux' origins, so Harry said nothing until he learned more.

"Six!" Sirius gasped.

"How can that be possible?" Lily asked, irate in her nervousness. "That can't be possible. Adalbert's Waffling's first fundamental law of magic states that tampering with one's soul results in grave dehumanizing; losing not only each one of the five senses but one's perception of humanity. The metaphysical damage to the essence of one's self would be tantamount to mutilating their soul."

Harry oddly wondered about the pride he seemed to feel at hearing his mother speak with obvious intelligence when Amelia candidly asserted, "I simply must insist." She looked at the younger crowd as she stated, "this information is far more dangerous than I initially thought and cannot, in good conscience, allow underage students to suffer what knowing this means. It's too dangerous!"

"I'm aware that you are unfamiliar with us. How dangerous that is, for you and all," Daphne stated in her business-like detachment. "With the number of people in the room, the risk of discovery increases exponentially. However, I would point out that none of us know the process by which to create a Horcrux, nor do any of us intend to practice such magic."

"I know the specifics," Harry told Amelia. "And I swear to you and everyone in this room that I will take that knowledge to my grave." Harry ignored the concern he could spot from Fleur and Hermione. Daphne kept her cool control, but Harry felt like she may also be worried.

Perenelle placed her warm hand over his as she stated, "which won't be for a very, very long time if I have anything to say about it."

In a whimsical yet sincere voice, Tracey posited, "Unless Draco pats him to death."

Despite the serious nature, Sirius did smile at that, before the Auror said, "so he has six Horcruxes. If we destroy them, then he won't come back, ever?"

"That's correct," Perenelle answered.

"Can you tell us what these objects are?" Remus asked, adding, "and how you've come to their discovery? Not that I doubt any of you, however, under dire stakes like this, I'm compelled to be as diligent as possible. I worry another perspective may catch something previously missed."

Nicolas looked from Harry to Perenelle, and at their nod, he spoke to the group. "For my house, this would be the meat of this meeting, for we needed, not only, to inform and thus warn you all of what's ahead, as every one of you is involved in some way, shape, or form, but to make a request as well. My family learned as much as we could before Ares entered Hogwarts. He's discovered quite a bit more since entering-"

"Could that be why you've enrolled in Hogwarts?" Luna asked in her quaint voice, somehow gripping attention from everyone. "For this mission?"

He hadn't expected her question but answered, "I came here for the missing pieces. Transferring just made sense."

Nor had he expected her to continue to say, "You seem quite important. I hope you'd still like to be my friend."

Blinking twice at slightly being taken, he smiled at his straggly dirty-blond friend, answering, "We'll always be friends Luna. For as long as you'll have me."

Luna smiled a moment as Perenelle continued. "We've learned or gleaned or inferred a fair amount of information since being here. Bits and pieces we've needed to put together to learn even more bits and pieces of anything. It was quite the puzzle. Tom Marvolo Riddle, from orphan to prefect, to Headboy, to Lord Voldemort is a half-blood, believe it or not." Remus and Sirius were visibly shocked as Lily and Amelia's brow drew closer in deep concentration. "He was the only son of a Muggle father, Tom Riddle and a near squib mother, Merope Gaunt. Highly intelligent since adolescence. In school, he was charming if not calculated on the outside. On the inside, he was a power-obsessed megalomaniac of the worst kind.

"It was in Hogwarts we believe he created the first Horcrux, using his diary as the container. After Hogwarts, his movements were impossible to completely track, but we know this is the period he was building his strength for the cleanse he was about to unleash upon the world. Fortunately for us, narcissism is one of the easier profiles to deduce. This is a man who thinks of everything in terms of power, who also believed the number seven was the most powerful number in magic. Through several sources, we've learned that before his death, seven fractured shades of Riddle existed; leaving only six now. Tom Riddle's Diary, Marvolo Gaunt's Ring, Salazar Slytherin's Locket, Helga Hufflepuff's Cup, Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem, and likely his familiar that's been reported as always being with him. Power of the founders, relics of his past, and his most esteemed magical number led us to these discoveries."

Remus abruptly stood up, putting a hand over his mouth, likely repulsed by the news. Most of the others were numb enough where they weren't shocked by how quickly he stood up. Without pause, Nicolas continues, "Oof the six, we currently have three in our possession. In the interest of full disclosure, Ares and I found Gaunt's ring at their family shack. I made a deal with Gringotts to obtain Hufflepuff's cup from the Lestrange family vault-"

"How did you manage that?" Amelia asks in complete shock.

"They would prefer I not destabilize the magical economy by giving out free gold than to keep a dark artifact," Nicolas answered to which Sirius grinned. "It was Draco's intelligence through his unaware father that led us to that discovery."

"Ares found the third Horcrux in Hogwarts," Perenelle moved on.

"How did you all do this without anyone knowing?" Lily followed up. "I simply… I'm just… baffled."

"It's a difficult thing to wrap your mind around," Perenelle sympathetically responded. "We certainly had far more time with this than any of you, and I know that's unfair, however, we still have a request; multiple requests, actually."

"Which are?" Lily asks.

Harry felt a strong urge to diverge from the plan and ask her about that night. Something about Sirius, Remus, and his mother all in the same room, comforting one another over Hardwin... It was clear to him that they all loved each other deeply, and all Harry could think was why she couldn't love him in the same way? He had an almost painful need to know the answer to that question, like a desolate farmer desperate for rain before he and his land withered and died.

Nicolas continued, "We know Riddle respected none other than himself; however, he did trust the closest of his followers with anything of real import. With Draco's pivotal knowledge from within their camp, we learned Bellatrix held the Hufflepuff's Cup. We also learned Lucius Malfoy held the diary. We were hoping, with Lily's permission, of course, that Hardwin could enlighten us as to the diary's whereabouts."

In unison, the room turned to Hardwin. He had been quiet since learning about the dragons, simply listening with increased worry.

"What?" Lily asked, skeptical her son would know anything about the diary. "Hardwin, what are they talking about?" she asked him before turning to Nicolas, "what are you talking about?"

"Two years ago," Nicolas began to answer her. "Hogwarts was under attack by an unseen monster, which turned out to be a basilisk. A basilisk communicates with its master via the language of snakes."

"Parseltongue," Lily pointed out. "Hardwin doesn't speak Parseltongue."

"Yes, of course," Nicolas confirmed. "However, Riddle, as well as his shades, are Parselmouths, and we know the diary made it to Hogwarts from Draco. Apparently, there was an altercation between the heads of Weasley and Malfoy houses. In retaliation, Lucius apparently slipped the dangerous diary into the possessions of the Weasleys' only daughter, Ginevra. Soon after, roosters were being killed, and children were being petrified; Miss Granger being one among them."

Hermione didn't wilt under their alarmed eyes as Lily admitted, low enough to be a near whisper, "Dumbledore never told us it was a Basilisk... in any of the staff meetings..."

"Nor did he inform the Ministry," Amelia bitterly added.

"Or the Wizengamot," a cross Lord Black spoke.

"What of the Basilisk?" Remus gravely asked. "It can't surely still be in the castle?"

The adults caught on to Remus' thoughts right away when Nicolas waved his hand disarmingly. "It has been taken care of. There's no further need to worry."

They seemed to relax at Nicolas' word, Sirius and Amelia eyeing Harry as he bit the head off a biscuit to a clear crunch. Perenelle continued, "With the help of a ghost, we know Dumbledore did have the Diary, and of all the people that could've given it to him…" Perenelle, along with most of the eyes, landed on Hardwin, waiting for an explanation. Lily squeezed his shoulder for support, nodding to him, 'it's okay,' but he didn't speak, looking away from the expectant eyes. Harry wondered what he could be feeling. He may be called the Boy-Who-Lived, but he likely hadn't gone as far as Harry did to earn that infernal title. Hardwin stayed quiet, brown eyes downcast, and even Lily couldn't pierce through his conflicting thoughts.

'He probably feels like he's betraying Dumbledore,' Harry mused. 'It's how I would've felt.'

After a moment, Harry spoke to Hardwin, turning all eyes on himself, including his brother's. "If you think about it, you've never actually been special," he stated, never returning the attention he received. He didn't trust himself not to look at Lily or Sirius when he was feeling so on edge and only paid attention to his cup of tea, as if in a trance. Despite his downward gaze, he orated with no less credibility, "This entire nightmare just played out like it did, and if you weren't the one at the wrong place, at the wrong time, it would've just been some other unfortunate bloke."

Hardwin seemed to be both confused and upset, or possibly upset for being confused, yet Harry continued. "Neville Longbottom was born around the same time as you, wasn't he? He could've just as easily been made to go through all the shit you have, or worse yet, all the shite I have. Being hunted isn't for everyone, is it?" Hardwin retained his silence, adding to the deafening quiet of the room before Harry continued. "I don't care what you think of me, what Dumbledore thinks of me, or how he reckons this should all go. Plans never work out as you want them to and his won't work any better, but, trust me when I say there's no version of the future where that dark fucker doesn't die. So you can tell me now or keep your peace. Ultimately it makes no difference, but I reckon helping others when it matters might make you feel a hell of a lot better than that meaningless fucking title of yours."

The silence lasted no more than three long seconds before Hardwin turned his mum and said, "I… I found the diary, but I didn't know what it was, I swear."

"I believe you," Lily reassured him.

"I found it in the girl's loo on the second floor," he stated. "Someone tried to flush it but it just flooded. I… I talked to it, but not for long. It showed me an old memory of professor Hagrid when he was in Hogwarts. It said he caused the death of another student, so I reckon he was maybe doing it again, only this time with petrification. So I went to the headmaster, you know, to warn him and it worked too because after I gave him the diary, all the petrification stopped."

"So you did gave it to him," Nicolas double checked.

"Yeah," Hardwin answered. "I wasn't trying to keep it from anyone, but I didn't know what it was and Headmaster Dumbledore said it'd be better if no one knew it existed while he was studying it."

Immediately, Harry snapped forward, grave in countenance as he demanded to know, "Has he been writing in the diary? Since you gave it to him, has he been writing in it?"

"How the bloody hell would I know that?" Hardwin defended, before turning to his mother to reiterate. "Really, I don't know any more than that."

"It's okay," Lily comforted him as Perenelle turned to Harry and asked, "what are you thinking?"

He was thinking he didn't like the idea of Dumbledore writing in the diary when he recalled what wearing the locket his neck felt like. But surrounded by an audience, he simply voiced, "Not entirely sure, but... Draco said his arse-of-a-father slipped the diary among Ginny Weasley's things, so the best bet is she's the one who was doing—well, more accurately, being forced to do all the stuff I heard about; painting threats on the walls, killing the roosters, opening the Chamber of Secrets—"

"Which can only be done if you know Parseltongue," Hermione hopped on the uptake like the earliest bird hungriest for the worm. "Of which none of the Weasleys, among most wizards, are capable of," Daphne tacked on to Hermione's point.

"As Ginny's renewed friend," Luna pointed out, "I'm certain she wouldn't willingly have done anything so villainous if she wasn't coerced somehow."

"So the diary can be thought of as part container, part possession magic," Lily suggested, deep in thought, when Remus added, "meaning, theoretically, it's possible Headmaster Dumbledore has been opening a regular connection to the Diary of Lord Voldemort for two years; a diary that we know for certain can coerce negative behavior and even impart knowledge previously unknown to its writer."

Harry was certain no one in the room was enjoying the possibility that one of the greatest wizards of their age may be compromised by a shade of the dark Lord Voldemort.

"While there is a small possibility," Amelia cautiously stated. "There is quite a wide difference between the mind of an eleven-year-old witch and one of the greatest wizards in magical history."

"Maybe, but if he's communicating with the diary, then it's still possible Dumbledore's being influenced," Sirius fiercely pointed out. "We don't know precisely because he keeps everything from everyone."

"Well, not everyone," Lily acknowledged as many looked to her. "Severus is more than likely his closest confidant."

"Fat lot of good that does us," Sirius grunted. "I can't imagine that smarmy grease-bucket would tell us anything."

"Severus," Lily emphasized, "may speak to me... if I approach him—"

"No," Sirius immediately shot down, to which Remus called, "Padfoot, really." "No, Mooney," Sirius vocally rebuked Remus. "I don't want Lily in any more danger than she's already in. We all know Snivellus was a willing servant to Voldemort and only got away with it because Dumbledore vouched for him. What if he's doing so again, only this time, working for the diary through Dumbledore?"

"I feel that's a bit of a stretch," Remus responded.

"But not impossible," Sirius defended.

"Padfoot," Lily called with affectionate authority, getting up in the face of the heated wizard. "I can look after myself, but more importantly, this is a threat to Hardwin, my son! I can't sit by and do nothing. I have to try."

"No, you don't," Sirius insisted. "I don't like this. There's too much we don't know."

"Precisely why I need to speak with Severus!" she stressed vehemently. "If he talks to anyone, it'll be me."

Lord Black challenged Lady Potter, rhetorically asking, "Oh, you don't think I can make that Death Eater talk?"

"Sirius," Remus called in gentle warning.

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about Lily trying to take an active part in Voldemort's demise. Regardless of how much he wanted his own answers from her, she was still his mother, and he didn't want her anywhere near danger. Talking to Snape was a surefire way to gain immediate and fatal attention from all the wrong wizards.

"Perhaps a compromise," Perenelle spoke, poking at Harry's curiosity. When Sirius hotly nodded to hear her suggestion, Perenelle continued, "We don't need to ascertain anything from Professor Snape right this minute, so, Lily, if you would agree to temporarily refrain from engaging him about this, then when the time comes for answers, Sirius can agree to this conversation if someone else was there as well; Someone strong who can remain invisible or hidden unless, of course, action is needed."

Lily and Sirius stared each other down, neither willing to back down from their point of view but able to see the logic behind Perenelle's suggestion. They both got what they wanted, if not exactly how they wanted it; Lily safe, answers from Snape, and Harry fearfully suspicious of Perenelle's motives.

"I'll take their silence as agreement," Remus stated before adding, "I'll volunteer to be the third man."

"No," Sirius turned on Remus. "Sorry to pull this card on ya', mate, but we can't be sure when the conversation might happen and… well, we need someone always ready." Remus deflated at the implication but otherwise understood.

"Should I expect your resignation, Auror Black," Amelia asked her Auror, who turned to her confused. "As head Auror, you already have an assignment, and after this meeting, we're going to be very busy. I'm limiting this information to those in this room, which means I'm going to need you to assist me in gathering intel at the ministry as covertly as possible."

"It's one day," Sirius argued.

A suspicious Harry watched Perenelle casually, almost buoyantly, suggest, "How about Ares?" Most of them turned the suggestion over in their minds for viability and leaning favorably to the idea. As for Harry, there were too many witnesses to blow up about this, so he remained stoic as Hardwin yelled, "No! This is my mum! And I don't trust him not to totally freak out."

Nicolas quickly asserted, "Freak out or no, young man, he's still the strongest wizard in this room."

"We don't quite know that…" A gruff Sirius good-naturedly challenged.

"My seester and I were surrounded and attacked by Deazh Eaters zhe night of zhe quidditch world cup," Fleur pointed out toward Hardwin. "Many een zhis room were viciously attacked by a madman in zhe Great 'all. And who een zhis room can forget zhe acromantula attack and zhe lives zhat could 'ave been lost zhat day?" Fleur heatedly listed for Hardwin the most obvious acts of heroism, leveling a stern expression on Hardwin the entire time. "Ares ees by far zhe strongest wizard I 'ave ever met. Eef any protection ees needed, I can zhink of no better wizard for zhe job." The preceding moments of silence in the room only ended with a final threat to Hardwin. "Do not ever let me 'ear you doubt 'im again."

A low whistle had a wide-eyed and fuzzy-feeling Harry turn to Sirius, who was nodding his head approvingly. Harry felt a bit of blush on his cheeks before he thanked Fleur and moved directly into their next request. "The last thing we need is from you, Lord Black-"

"Sirius," the Auror interjected with a callous wave of his hand.

"There's more?" Hardwin gasped. "It isn't enough the greatest wizard of our age is… I don't even want to think about it," he glumly admitted, completely disillusioned of what he thought he knew to be unshakable. "What else could there be?"

"This is about your brother," Nicolas started, to which Sirius quickly turned incredibly tense. "Like Bellatrix, we believe Regulus may have also been one of Voldemort's most valued supporters; enough to entrust a Horcrux to him for its safekeeping. We couldn't find any information on him, and so we were hoping you might recall a locket he may have hidden or given to someone else to hide; a friend or house elf perhaps."

"You believe Regulus had the locket?" Sirius sternly asked.

"It makes the most sense," Amelia pondered aloud. "I recall his trial, clear as day. He was one of the very few to proudly proclaim support for the Dark Lord."

"I…" Sirius paused to take a settling breath. "I am ashamed of my family's dark past," he admitted, looking sorrowfully at Tracey. "Your mother is the light of my life, and I never wanted either of you to ever believe I could support that superiority bullocks. With all the artifacts the House of Black has collected throughout the centuries, the very day I became the head of our house, I disowned Bellatrix, Regulus, and moved all the dark items to the family's vaults. I was desperate to push them out of sight and forget they ever existed." He turned hurtfully angry as he added, "And all this time, a shade of that parasite was right under my nose!"

"You couldn't have known," Lily told him.

"Calm yourself, Auror," Amelia commanded. "There'll be plenty of time for self-loathing later. For now, I need your head in the game because we have work to do."

"You'll need to search for the locket," Remus stated. "I'll help, of course. I'm fairly good at detecting dark objects."

"You'll have to be careful," Nicolas told him. "It'll more than likely have devastating countermeasures to protect itself."

"What should I do if I find it?" he asked.

"Don't touch it. There's a detection spell I can teach you that will aid in your search," Nicolas answered before turning to all of the adults. "I'll show you all."

"Well," Perenelle stated, standing up. "I believe that's everything."

A few started to get up, Harry among them when Sirius stepped forward. "Actually," he started, turning an inquisitive stare on Harry. "I'd like to know a little more about you. Please believe I don't mean to be rude. After everything you've done for us, shared with us, I'd like nothing more than to take things at face value. But you know more about us than we know of you. We have to trust you more than you have to trust us, and how can this really work like that?"

Stepping forward, Amelia added, "What I feel Auror Black is trying to say is, we'd like a little more confidence that we're working with you and not for you."

"Can I assume you mean Ares?" Nicolas asked, cutting through the red tape.

"Two of you are in the history tomes, and one of you is a complete mystery," Sirius pointed out. "A single-minded focus like that doesn't come without the pain to make it," he reasoned, all the while staring directly into Harry's green eyes.

"You do not have to answer," Lily asserted, turning from Harry to Sirius. "I know you're curious. I think we all are. But this is not an interrogation. Whatever his past is, you can't just demand to know."

Just because Harry understood the need to know of a thing, didn't mean he wasn't upset that Sirius would treat him this way. Though looking at his mother defend his right to his past so ardently made Harry wonder if she was projecting this defense of a past for herself as well.

"Yeah, I've suffered," Harry retorted. "And no, I won't talk about it so you can feel more comfortable. I really can't say this any clearer. I. Just. Want. Voldemort. Dead. Dead! End of story. Maybe if I actually survive killing him, we can split a bottle Ogden's and I can tell you all about the blood in my past, but until then, I think we can all use a little more single-minded purpose right now. That alright with you… Padfoot?"

—

With the start of the first task looming in a little under twelve hours, Harry casually recounted the events of the past week as he stepped onto the dueling mat. He felt out of sorts, uncomfortable in his own skin by how much control he had relinquished. Sirius, with Remus' help, had promised to search every property his family owned to find the locket. Even if the relationship was strained beyond repair, Sirius and Regulus were brothers, which meant no one knew Regulus more intimately than Sirius. Lily had begun conceptualizing designs to drag the truth from Snape, and though it made Sirius, Remus, Hardwin, and Harry nervous, Harry was fairly confident Snape would not do anything to hurt his childhood friend—at least, not intentionally.

It was odd for Harry to accept he had assistance with direct access to what he needed. He no longer had to break into the Black residence and hope he could locate the Locket without being discovered. Once they attained the locket and the diary, Nagini would be the last Horcrux, and a special sword could take care of that. Harry would feel happy if the unpredictable didn't make him so nervous, certain he was missing something, or not seeing some other complication that would inevitably spoil this latest plan.

Harry took his place at the far end of the mat and nonchalantly flicked his white wand into his grip, all the while lamenting how his lack of operational control wasn't the only new state of mind. Fleur was completely ruining his idea of what his life should be. Though they agreed to stay discreet for the moment, they had yet to spend any time together, which was counter to what he understood their new relationship was. In fact, with regard to their steady group, very little had changed. Fleur chose to sit near Hermione more than anyone, but on occasion, she would also sit with Daphne, Luna, and Hardwin when he joined the group.

Hardwin had been training in a similar fashion to how Harry had trained to win the first task. Fortunately, this Potter seemed to have a better grasp of magic than he had in his timeline. His Accio improved steadily enough, and he more often than not stayed for dueling practice as well—though Harry was fairly certain he simply enjoyed talking with Fleur.

Fleur got along especially well with Tracey. They seemed to have a lot in common, and conversation between them passed effortlessly, ranging anywhere between boys and clothes. Draco and Hardwin didn't get along well every time words were spoken. For some reason, Hardwin seemed to draw out Draco's immaturity. As an explanation, Draco only ever mentioned, "dealing with one Potter is my limit." Aside from Draco and Hardwin, they all got on fairly well, and Harry enjoyed this environment well enough, but in the back, middle, and steadily approaching the front of his mind, he wondered why Fleur was more or less the same when he was expecting some loss of control on their part. The relationship between them was honest and clear… Wasn't he supposed to meet something akin to a vixen?

Harry should have known better than to expect anything from Fleur Delacour. She seemed specifically designed to entice just as much as bewilder, which heaven helped him only made him think about her and their whole situation more. Even his night terrors held less dominance when competing against Fleur fantasies. In some of Harry's more paranoid moments, he wondered if this entire fiasco of hers was simply a ploy of sorts, to lower his guard so she could pounce when he's at his weakest.

'Pounce and do what?' a very hormonal side of him mentally voiced, making Harry grimace in sheer embarrassment for thinking like a complete horn-dog.

"She's ruining my life," he mumbled with a bored huff as Hardwin, Fred, and George took the other end of the dueling ring, wands in hand and standing ready.

The sight of the excited yet serious twins brought to mind Luna's gift to him, making him smirk at the fond memory. Of his group's attempt to help him feel more comfortable and add a trickle of happiness to his day, Luna was the second, or third—depending if Fleur's decision to accept the full scope of a relationship with him counted—to finish and give him his gift. It was genius as only Luna was capable of and made him laugh.

Luna had explained a colorful tale of speaking with Ginny, Fred, and George about their possible assistance in helping her thank and support her friend, Ares Flamel. Being the mavericks they were, they agreed and the four of them came up with a school-wide prank they put into effect during breakfast two days ago. Using a charm-line over the archway of the entrance, much like the charm line Harry used to break eggs stuck on heads, they cursed all who entered the Great Hall for breakfast with a reactionary affliction. The intent-code of the curse was simple; should anyone disobey the mandate of the magic, they would suffer the misfortune of having glowing eyes and a few fake facial scars for a full twenty-four hours. The only thing a witch or wizard had to do was look away from anyone the curse was connected to.

So during breakfast, Fred cast the curse on George, who looked away and instantly had the glowing eyes and scars of The Green Reaper, except with brown light glowing out instead of green. Fred looked away from George and instantly had similar scars and glowing eyes. Luna and Ginny did the same and they too became Green Reapers with the notable difference of their personal eye color glowing. Multiplying from one to two, to four, to sixteen, and so on until, rather quickly, the entire room was filled with Green Reapers. Only a few were afraid at first, however since Fred and George were notorious pranksters, the joyous calamity quickly disseminated to every witch or wizard and they all played with the idea of being this celebrity for the day.

Harry witnessed excited faces, some conjuring mirrors to see themselves, and laugh or smile, or panic with obvious concern. A great boom of laughter spread from the front of the room when even the professors succumbed to the benign curse. Many professors offered to break the curse for anyone who didn't like the light and scars effect, and as Harry learned later that day, not many wanted to remove them. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and even some professors, Lily among them, all decided to keep the guise throughout the day. At first Harry felt sad for them and their ignorance of what such a face means—not that his scars are real, he'll admit—but as the day progressed, he had to take into account that whatever the Reaper's meaning, it broke through social boundaries not unlike quidditch, dueling, or butter-beer has.

A savior or villain, loved or feared, it didn't matter how they played with Harry's likeness, because it resonated with him. When he looked around the many halls and classes of Hogwarts, filled with different color glowing eyes, scars, and plush toy Phoenix' on their shoulder—a purchasable item the Weasley twins sold—their exuberance showed him some form of acceptance. It only took everyone looking like him to realize in a small way, Harry was apart of something that was more than his mission… and it didn't look all that bad to him.

While he enjoyed the day, a few wizards fell too deeply into character and fights broke out as a result, but all in all, he gave Luna a fierce hug, lifting her off her feet, and invited Fred, George, and Ginny to train with them. Rather than bring them to the Room of Requirement or the Chamber, they train in one of the larger class rooms.

Fred and George launched simultaneous attacks, followed quickly by Hardwin. "Rictusempra!" "Stupify!" "Protego!"

'I guess Hardwin assumed I'd attack right away,' Harry thought, observing his brother's shield made for three. With the distance between opposing sides, Harry didn't have to put in more effort than his reactionary battle-memory as he sidestepped Fred and George's curses to quickly counter cast, "lumos maxima," blinding the entirety of the practice room before disappearing himself. It took a few seconds for Daphne, Hermione, Fleur, her friend Annabelle, Tracey, Draco, Luna, Ginny, Astoria, and Gabrielle to regain complete sight, and when they did, it was to the sight of Hardwin, George, and Fred on the floor in a full body bind.

Harry stood there, ignorant of his friends' fascination as he wondered if he should force Draco to start using actual partners in their dancing lessons rather than the stick he'd been forcing Harry to use to help him keep his arms up and straight during the steps. If Fleur and Harry were dancing together, he might have an easier time talking to her alone without raising suspicion. However, the aggravating Draco was still holding a grudge over Fleur agreeing to be in a polyamorous relationship with him.

The one time Harry was curious enough to ask what his problem was, Draco simply responded, "You think this is fair, you greedy git?! I'm doing this for men everywhere!"

If Tracey hadn't insisted they start the dancing lessons, Draco would've never started. Even after the lessons had begun, Draco was a dictator in his instruction, refusing to let Harry practice with Fleur, Daphne, or Hermione. He shoved a stick against his chest and said, "here! Call her Lola." If Harry wasn't so mystified by Fleur, he would've shoved that stick right up his pasty arse. Even now, Harry was reconsidering Draco's part in tomorrow's plans, though he knew it would only be out of spite.

"How the hell am I supposed to beat a bloody dragon," Hardwin called out after he canceled the body-bind. "Three of us can't even touch you! And they expected me to beat a dragon by myself?"

"Dragons don't have wands," Harry voiced in the most mundane way.

"Could it be, dear brother, you're feeling just as royally hurt as I am," George called to Fred loud enough to be the center of attention.

"Hurt you say," Fred play-responded.

"Royally so," George corrected.

"You couldn't mean to say," Fred posed with mirth. "That no matter how many acromantula, Death Eaters, and Merlin knows what else Ares' done epic battle with, it still hurts to have a fourteen-year-old casually pummel three of us arse-over-tit all whilst appearing as if he's trying to recall the secret recipe to Nan's famous crumpet?"

"Are you sure that was 'Nan's secret recipe for crumpet,' daze?" George returned quizzically, "I was getting more of a, 'why do my knickers feel so funny?' vibe."

"Ya' know," Fred feigned bewilderment. "I always get those two confused."

Harry was amused, even if he was still deep in thought, as Daphne stated, while walking on the mat, "I can't imagine he had enough time to think of anything in the three seconds it took to beat you."

Harry smiled as he paid a little more attention to Daphne, Tracey, and Luna taking a place on the mat. They had all asked to duel him, and so far, the triple team of Draco, Fleur, and her friend Annabelle required more than reactionary retaliation from him. Fleur was an impressive tactician, and Draco and Annabelle followed her instructions extremely well.

Harry told Fred, George, and Hardwin, "Hard as it is, you have to ignore the faint for the real attack. Even if you have to cover your eyes, don't do it with your wand hand. Remember, I'm just trying to break your focus."

"You know," George started. "For a snake, you're not a half-bad bloke."

"A fair sentiment I never thought I'd ever agree with, brother," Fred added with mild astonishment. Amused, Harry simply nodded at the two.

"You wouldn't know Hardwin had any focus after being slaughtered like that," Tracey added.

Turning vindictively towards her, he spoke in a low threatening voice, "I'm so telling Uncle Sirius you're dating a Malfoy."

Scandalized, Tracey threw back, "Hardwin Potter don't even think two can't play at that game. Or Auntie Lily may need to know why a certain Boy-Who-Lived has been sneaking off to spy on a certain Asian Ravenclaw."

Hardwin's eyes widened fearfully first, then scrunched like there was a super tart lemon in his mouth. Harry turned to Draco and wondered if he was letting Tracey see the Maurader's Map. Currently, Draco held the map in his possession. 'He'll need it tomorrow,' Harry's mind reasoned, but he'll have to make sure to take it back afterward. Though the map was made to do no good. Spying for gossip's sake just seems so distasteful.

With everything up in the air, leaving so much to chance, Harry never expected all of his 'tomorrows' might be one of them. Expecting to be the only one to die against Voldemort made everything else so much easier to face. Now, he was asking the same of others, making him absolutely sick with worry. Sirius and Amelia gathered vital intelligence covertly, likely against ministry guidelines. Lily was determined to speak with Snape about grave secrets that weren't even his own to tell. Draco's first solo mission was hours away. Dark Goblins, as well as regular goblins, wanted their pound of Flamel flesh. Though no Unicorns had been found dead, the ghoul in the forest was still at large, placing the entire castle in danger. Hardwin could very possibly take Cedric's place in this tournament. The inevitable battle against Voldemort loomed in the distance. It simply wasn't rational to expect to have a life after all that… to feel happiness. And yet that's what Nicolas, Perenelle, and Fleur were challenging him to do.

"Are you okay?" Daphne's voice pierced through his mental fog.

Harry snapped into the present at the sound of her concerned voice to find Daphne beside him while Tracey and Luna waited a few feet away. His green eyes mapped the elegant landscape of her beautiful face, shaped especially well under her long, gold-spun blond hair. Her cute nose curved nicely to meet her darker blond eyebrows, long eyelashes, and crystal blue eyes. High cheekbones flushed under his gaze as her pert pink lips spread to sweetly ask, "Ares?"

Staring though he was, he didn't care as much when he realized behind her enchanting exterior was a witch who may have answers that could help him. "You want to be an Unspeakable," he started, catching her attention. "In the Department of Mystery, Unspeakables studied and learned in disturbing detail about all sorts of incredibly terrible things that were nearly averted or are predicted to happen. You could study how to effectively establish dominion over what is considered nature's edict; the soul, love, time, death, risking worldwide calamity toward millions of innocents for a few nuggets of intellectual treasure. More than any job in existence, Unspeakables truly come face-to-face with our hubris, the worst part of people-"

"Stop it," Daphne mewed in an unexpectedly cute way, expanding her chest with a great calming breath. "You're going to make me blush."

'This girl,' Harry mentally mused before he asked, "that's what you want, isn't it?"

If Daphne was expecting the loaded question, she gave no evidence of that, taking it in stride as she calmly answered, "I want to heal my sister more than anything. It wouldn't be a stretch to say she keeps me from the darker witch within. After Tori, being an Unspeakable would be the greatest meaning my life can ever produce."

"Is that the same as being happy?" Harry abruptly asked. "Danger-bound as that life will undoubtedly be, would you expect to be happy as well?"

"You mean happiness with someone special?" Daphne asked for clarity. To his stiff nod, she answered, "as it's currently defined, I never thought I would truly be happy with anyone. The process of meeting, falling in love, instantly marrying, bearing children, taking care of them and the house while the wizard works until we grow old and die… No. That doesn't even sound like happiness to me. I'm a pragmatist. I'd always known that regardless of who this future partner of mine would be, he'd undoubtedly have a variety of flaws."

"Pragmatism," Harry quietly mouthed, recalling its definition from one of Nic's philosophy books aloud, "success through practical considerations rather than an idealistic approach."

She smiled as she continued, "I think you and I learned early on how some realities of this world work, how the worst people work; harsh and unforgiving. I never expected more than adequate pleasantness from this future wizard, because every time I combined the way intelligence fascinates me with how often people let me down, it's never like in the poems. So, I simply imagine choosing the one wizard with the most amount of intelligence and the least amount of annoyances that I can live with."

"I imagine having an in-depth intelligence network would help you make that decision," Harry mused aloud, wondering if that played a part in her need to know deep and dark secrets.

"Naturally," she smiled knowingly. "This is all, of course, if I wasn't arranged to be married, as I'm certain you remember my father. True happiness like you read in poems or hear in song had never truly entered the equation in any meaningful way for me."

'I'm hearing a lot of past tense,' his idiot mind voiced with giddy suggestion. He stared at her clear blue eyes for a moment that was neither short nor long, noting sincerity and comfort in them. She never broke eye contact as he noted how similar their pattern of thinking was. She understood the dark. She embraced it, regularly exposed herself to it, but didn't completely lose herself to it. Harry was certain Astoria was, in a large way, the reason why, though, anything more than her sister, Harry couldn't say. Due to a sudden spike in the need to know more about her, Harry asked with a hint of amazement, "why are you the way you are?"

With a knowing smile that only exaggerated her beauty, she replied, "I can ask you the same. You tell us a lot—all of which is the most fascinating things I've ever heard—but it's never your history. It's never why you are the way you are, dark and painful as I'm sure it is. Or am I wrong?"

Harry shook his head in answer, finally looking away as he genuinely expressed, "I'm happy I met you, Daphne."

"No," she rebuffed casually. He turned to her, brows furrow with curiosity as she added, "You're glad you met me." Her smile turned playful as she explained, "'happy to have met me,' is something far better than this." She turned the moment she registered his wide eyes and walked to the other side of the mat, asking over her shoulder, "Shall we?"

A time chamber stood between the love and death chambers in the Department of Mysteries. Due to the Horcrux planted in his head, Harry had learned more than he ever thought possible, but he hardly ever wondered what more there was to know—the type of knowledge that had nothing to do with power. As the magnificently elegant Slytherin walked to the other side, speaking strategy to Luna and Tracey, Harry began to realize that he had been living in the Death Chamber, holding its inviting entrance closed in an effort to keep his loved ones from risking their souls on a lost cause. In spite of his mission—of its grand importance—he could feel how much his resolve had waned against their combined determination to reach him, instilling a great fear that one day, he wouldn't be strong enough to keep them from death's gentle embrace.

Turning to the alert and battle-ready girls, he accepted that he wouldn't leave the dark abyss of the Death Chamber, not until its dangers to the world had been completely abated. However, it was beginning to feel like a relief of sorts, to know that his friends were behind him, tethering him to his humanity despite his greatest dread should he fail them again. Flicking his wand out, he imagined that tomorrow might turn out okay… regardless of how much anxiety he felt should it all go wrong.

With a huff of daunting acceptance, Harry quietly answered Daphne, "I suppose we shall."

Fleur was originally going to be aggressive but I thought of an interesting idea that will be explained very soon. Fleur has her eyes set on Hermione, but Daphne snuck up on me toward the end there.

I wanted to do the first task in this chapter but I sort of got lost in the writing and didn't have the time, but next chapter is for sure, the 1st task. I already started writing some of it so I don't foresee and delay in meeting my deadline, next Sunday.

Thoughts, comments I'd love to hear em. Thanks and have a great one,

-Grae