When A Good Man Goes to War

by DaSalvatore

After saving Ginny, Harry is drawn back to the Chamber and finds secrets that will destroy everything he knows about his life and family. Now, with Salazar Slytherin as a mentor and father figure, Harry pushes magic to its limits to bring down his enemies — both those known and those hiding in the shadows. And in doing so, both old and new prophecies will be fulfilled (Multi)

8. Death and Chocolate

Key:

"Words."

Thoughts / "emphasis" / Title of Books or spells used

~~Parseltongue~~

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

"Magical language."

AN: And we're back! Back to our regular fortnightly posting of When a Good Man Goes to War. I'll now be working on getting back with posting Originality.

Death and Chocolate

1st September 1993 – Hogwarts

Severus Snape realised that a unique teacher's table waited for the students to arrive for the 1993-94 year to begin. Albus Dumbledore had warned the staff of Harry Potter's forced puberty. If only because seeing a 5'8 thirteen-year-old when the boy hadn't even been 5' two months prior would have caught even the fool Lockhart's attention. He held back a snort, aware that the reality of the changes would be nothing like what his colleagues were expecting. And that was without Lily's brat's new personality.

And the brat still had to shake things up by casting a corporeal Patronus on the train. Not that it surprised Severus. A young man capable of destroying the Dark Lord's Horcrux, bring together the notoriously bigoted Malfoy and the mixed-blood Tonks families, and then manipulate both his and Lucius' Dark Marks all in one evening should easily be capable of such a feat. And according to Lupin's own Patronus message, the damnable boy's spell had killed the Dementors who were searching the Express. An act considered impossible.

Yet not even the Brat Who Lived To Torment Him doing unknown magic made the waiting table be unique. That fact came about due to them missing four of their colleagues. Unlike most years, Minerva wasn't off to bring the new swarm of dunderheads in for their Sorting like a duck leading their barely controlled ducklings to their doom. That 'honour' had been given to Filius Flitwick. No, Minerva was missing so his Quidditch nemesis could ambush Potter's know-it-all friend to begin nine months of misery for everyone as she butchered time in her selfish obsessive-compulsive desire to know everything, and then regurgitate it in vast quantities of literary diarrhoea they would be forced to mark.

Those two weren't the only ones missing. Rubeus Hagrid had mystifyingly granted the Care of Magical Creatures teaching position, despite never having gained his OWLs, yet also still classed as the Keeper of the Keys for Hogwarts, and doing his duty of showing the new wave of nightmare fuel the castle via a tripe across the Black Lake. Severus had shared many commissary alcoholic drinks with Poppy over her increased workload for healing all the barely held together dunderheads who were bound to push the half-giant's boundaries. Well, he had also drank for his own increased brewing duties to provide the very potions that would hopefully save the brats from their, and Albus', stupidity. And then there was the wolf. Lupin's decision to ride the train meant they were missing four of their number when the first pains in his arse came chattering through the doors of the Great Hall.

The masses of hormonal chaos were a lot more animated than Severus expected given they'd been on a train with Dementors. He was debating with himself to use his Legilimency on the most mature mind he could force himself to slip into when movement in her periphery caught his attention. Severus scowled as fifty rubies trickled into the Gryffindor points jar and tried guessing what had caught the old battleaxe's attention enough to give such a reward. That train of thought came flying off the rails as a hush fell over the Hall.

Dark eyes moved from the hourglasses to widen at the sight that had caught everyone's attention. Severus' only saving grace was that he wasn't gaping like a moron the way the other professors were, but it was a very near miss. While some of the shock filling the room might be because of the new Harry Potter with an enormous snake peaking out of his robe, no one could miss the real shocking sight was. That of Luna Lovegood as she gleefully rode a fully corporeal and solid puma Patronus that had achingly familiar green eyes.

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OoOoO

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"Huh, so that's what it's like," Ron mused as the world stopped when the friends entered the Great Hall.

"Yeah, I'd say you get used to it, but it's more you learn to ignore it."

"How long does that take?"

"I'd let you know when it happens," Harry snarked, getting a snort and giggle from his companions. He led Luna and her new pet to the Ravenclaw table. "Save me a seat?"

Ron snorted again, as though there was a limited chance of Harry finding a space to sit when everyone would want to bombard him with questions. He got a crocked grin from his famous friend as they parted ways.

Harry was tempted to roll his eyes at Luna. Not only was the girl riding side-saddle on his Patronus, but she'd somehow increased its size to keep her feet from dragging on the floor. Just the first act was virtually impossible to pull off without some type of non-human blood, and Harry knew well that two Founders who had such a lineage. If he was right, the girl was as perfectly Sorted as Harry or Lily would have been if Sebastian had put them where he had wanted.

The sound of their footsteps was the only thing heard in the hall. Harry and his Patronus stopped at the second year section of the Ravenclaw table. The blonde slide down the Patronus and onto the bench, sending Harry the most adorable pout and puppy eyes ever used from behind his stolen glasses. The two stared at each other for a second before Harry rolled his eyes and stole his glasses back.

"Fine, but she'll vanish after I've fallen asleep. And no, you won't get her tomorrow."

"Fine," the girl huffed, acting like he'd just denied her a lifetime of access to the world's greatest library.

"Protect," he told the Patronus, and every mage felt a rumble in their magic from the construct. He gave the other Ravenclaws a fierce glare while leaning down to kiss the top of her head. The message was obvious. Luna Lovegood was under his protection.

And still no one said a word as he made his way to the seat beside Ron. Hundreds of eyes danced between the taller third year and his far too real Patronus. The Arithmancy Professor Septima Vector was scribbling down equations to try calculating the requirements of what he had created. It took the noisy arrival of Filius Flitwick and the new first years to snap everyone out of their daze, only for some to gape at the second Patronus that was accompanying them.

"Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about that one," Harry mused, his words heard across the hall. The little teacher stumbled when he caught sight of the construct sitting dutifully beside one of his Ravenclaws. Harry's click of the fingers ended the other spell. "There we go."

His feigned oblivious to the insanity of the situation was too much for the Weasley twins. Fred and George erupted in laughter, falling clear off the bench, and that broke the spell over the students. Conversations exploded, everyone having something they were desperate to share with those around them. Harry looked at Ron, who just shook his head with a roll of the eyes that had Harry grinning.

Dumbledore let the students get it out of their system before releasing a loud bang from the end of his wand. Sebastian sang his latest Sorting song. A rather surprising sea shanty focusing on the friendship between Godric and Salazar, complete with pirate West Country accent. Something told Harry he had opened a can of worms by sharing his wide exposure to media over the summer. It might have been the bewildered looks most of the staff and students were giving the Sorting Hat when he finished, or the 'this is your fault' glare Snape was sending his way.

Or it might be how Cadwaladr's low hisses were his familiar dying of laughter. Hard to tell, really.

Harry caught people's attention yet again when they noticed he clapped for every Sorting, regardless of where each first year went. It pleased Harry to see some students – no surprise that most of whom were Hufflepuffs – were following his example by the time the Sorting was over. Flitwick was just taking Sebastian and the Sorting stool away when Hermione and McGonagall entered the Hall, with both females having a stutter to their steps when they saw the Patronus sitting at Luna's side.

"What was that about?" Ron muttered to her once she sat down next to him. She shushed him as Dumbledore stood to speak.

Harry stared at the man that had looked to shape his life and did his best to keep his Thunderbird instincts from incinerating the aged wizard. He felt a shift of magic against his body and realised the Headmaster had released his magic in a whispering breeze to bring peace to the students.

"Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent food."

Dumbledore cleared his throat, his body language taking on a more sombre feeling. Harry grudgingly admitted the man was an excellent orator.

"As you will all be aware after their...aborted search of the Hogwarts Express," here the Headmaster's gaze jumped to Harry, his Patronus, and then back again. The twins sniggered before the speech continued. "Our school is presently playing host to the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business. They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission."

Blue eyes seemed to pierce every student to emphasise his seriousness. "Dementors are not fooled by tricks or disguises – or even Invisibility Cloaks. It is not the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, our new Head Boy and Girl... and it seems Mister Potter as well, to make sure that no student runs foul of them."

Percy had puffed his chest out, staring around the room imperiously when Dumbledore called upon him, while Harry gave a cheeky smile and finger wiggle wave. Chuckles rose at the act, while the pompous ginger sent him a glare. Dumbledore continued by introducing Lupin as the latest DADA Professor, the hidden werewolf getting a smattering of applause that Harry assumed was because of the man's shabby appearance compared to the other teachers. A hissed comment from Ron had Harry's gaze slide to the stormy features of Severus Snape. The young Lord of Magic winced. He hadn't considered what his snarky pseudo-uncle would feel seeing the Marauder. That's not going to go well, he thought.

If he kills the wolf, can I have the body? Cadwalader asked through their mental link, sharing his distaste for the man who had abandoned his bonded.

Only if we find Sirius and he says it's okay.

Dumbledore's second staff announcement interrupted their silent conversation and caused an explosion of applause, especially from the Gryffindors, as he revealed Hagrid was the new Care of Magical Creatures Professor.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," Dumbledore finished. "Let the feast begin!"

The tables filled with their usual smorgasbord of food and drink options, the sight of which had Harry realising how hungry he was.

"Looking good there, Harry," came the cute voice of Angelina Johnson. Harry turned his head to look at her, seeing something in her eyes. He didn't need Legilimency to work out the twins had told their Quidditch teammates of the public reason behind his dramatic changes, not when sympathy filled her dark chocolate orbs.

"Thanks, Angie," he smiled, flashing her a grin that caused her dark cheeks to go dusky from a blush. "Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll show you just how good I look."

"Oi!" Fred shouted above the catcalls and laughter. "Get your own Chaser, Potter!"

"Have you been on a broom, yet, Harry?" Oliver Wood, their Quidditch obsessed Keeper, asked. The young man had woken his team up at the literal crack of dawn the previous year to slide in yet another practice session. Even now, Harry wasn't sure how he got to the 'Flying Foxes' who were their all-female Chaser line-up, nor how he survived waking them. "I'll speak to McGonagall about getting us the pitch booked to see if -"

"Yeah, about that, Oli," Harry sighed, interrupting the seventh year. The team and those obsessed with the sport – so the entire Gryffindor table sans Hermione and Neville – all stopped to listen with a sense of dread. "I know this is your last year, so I'll stay on the team to get you that win. But we need to find a replacement Seeker to train up. I don't think I'll play after this year."

A cacophony hit Harry, one that he could sum up as 'what, why?'

"You guys know I didn't ask to play, right? That day McGonagall dragged me to Oli and declared I was the new Seeker-"

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione automatically corrected.

"No asking the new kid who didn't even know what Quidditch even was," he continued, ignoring her. "If not for that, everyone would have praised Katie for becoming a first choice Chaser as a second year. The first one in thirty years. Sorry about that, Katie."

"Thanks, Harry," the girl in question smiled.

"You can't quit!" Ron demanded.

"I'd like to see you make me play," Harry declared, after turning to look at his friend. The two third years locked eyes and Ron couldn't hold his gaze, especially as Cadwalader shifted to stare at the ginger. Harry turned back to the others once his friend looked away. "Look, guys, I'm not saying I won't play at all in the future. But I love being in the air more than the game's competition, and I like the challenge more than the game itself. I've got no plans to go pro. Let someone who wants to do it for a living have the chance to show the scouts what they can do."

"Well crap," Alicia Spinnet, the third of their Chaser line, sighed. "It's hard to argue with that."

"You're winning me the cup, Potter," Oliver proclaimed, pointing a finger at his Seeker. "No excuses!"

"Sure thing, Oli," Harry chuckled. "And while I'm training up my replacement, you can work with Ron to get him up to being yours."

"Huh, what?" Ron gaped, the dark mood vanishing from his face at hearing the suggestion.

"You want to be Keeper, don't ya?"

"Of course!"

"And eventually play for the Canons."

"Don't tease me, mate."

"There's your mentor," Harry pointed at the thinking Oliver, who had never considered a succession plan.

"You're a Weasley, so there's bound to be some talent there," the Keeper mused, getting laughter from the other Weasleys and an 'Oi' from Ron. "Alright, I'll do it. But you'd better be worth Harry's recommendation, or I'll hold a tryout for someone else."

Ron was up and around the table to pump Oliver's hand before most of the table could blink, his head bouncing up and down in agreement to anything and everything Oliver was telling him. Harry hoped it was merely an insane training schedule rather than an offering of Ron's first-born. Although he wouldn't have doubted the latter for either Quidditch obsessed boy.

"That was a really nice thing you did, Harry," Hermione whispered, catching his attention.

"He doesn't have an interest in academics," Harry told her, equally softly. "Quidditch is his one great love right now. Best he learns it needs hard work before it becomes too late to make something of the passion."

She blinked at his thinking and looked to say something, only to be cut off by another voice.

"Thank you... Could you... teach me to be Seeker?"

Harry looked at the blushing Ginny. He had to admit that she was being brave in speaking, even as her were red with embarrassment. Harry had a sudden insight into the girl's mind. Sure, she'd had a crush on him from those disgusting Boy Who Lived books, and it had probably grown stronger after he rescued her from Riddle's grasp, but she was probably as frustrated by her reaction to him as he was. After all, how could she ever get to know him if she couldn't even speak to him? And he knew she had a forceful personality with the way she interacted with her brothers.

"As long as you take it as seriously as Oli is expecting Ron to," he agreed, finally, getting a widening of brown eyes. "I might not have the passion for the game, but I won't leave the team with a substandard replacement."

"Thanks, Harry," she squeaked before turning back to her giggling friends. Harry avoided any comment from Hermione by the simple fact of Ron dropping himself between them.

"I can't believe it! Oliver Wood's going to train me!" Ron's glazed look cleared, and the boy showed his potential maturity by turning serious. "Thank you, mate. I don't get why you'd not want to play, but thanks for doing this."

Harry laid a firm hand on his friend's shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze. "That mirror vision won't happen on its own."

He released the shoulder and returned to his food to let Ron compose himself. Harry had brought his vision in front of the Mirror of Erised to life. His Occlumency lessons with Sebastian had granted Harry the chance to get to know his parents, and he had built a new family with Salazar, the Rakepicks, the Tonkses, and even the Malfoys (Narcissa, at least). Harry felt it was only right to give his friend the chance to get his own heart's desire.

Harry was most of the way through his plate when an unlikely source asked the first question about Cadwaladr. "Harry... the snake... is it because of what happened last year?"

Silence rippled over the Hall, despite Neville's stuttering question. Harry suspected the other students had been desperate for someone to ask.

"Honestly, Nev, I'd been thinking about it over the summer," he admitted with a shrug, reaching up to scratch his family's scales. "The Caduceus is known the world over for being a symbol of healers and has snakes in it. Non-magical India wildly celebrates snake charmers, and Indian and Asian mages practically worship Parselmouths and the Naga for their ability to heal and lead. Given how many students we have with connections to those areas, I'm honestly shocked none spoke out for me last year."

Winces happened on all non-Slytherin tables, and the listening hall heard cutlery scrapping against golden plates at the barb. The Patil twins had ducked their heads, both girls knowing how horrified their parents would be if their family learnt how they had mistreated a Parselmouth, while Cho Chang scowled.

"Turns out I didn't really have a choice in the end," he nonchalantly shrugged. "I was walking past a snake and reptile shop when I felt the urge to go in. Cadwaladr was waiting for me and that's that. Our bond formed before I even got to his cage."

"What breed is she?" Seamus Finnigan asked, looking almost hypnotised by the snake's fiery colouring. Not a surprise, given the boy's pyromaniac tendencies.

"He," Harry corrected. "And no idea. The best I've been able to guess is some type of magical anaconda offshoot. That's the only species that I've found with similar teeth."

Cadwaladr stretched out from over Harry's shoulder and showed off the rows of curved, dagger-like teeth. While most flinched away from the terrifying sight, some didn't.

"Those teeth look familiar, Fred," Fred said, leaning down the table until he was almost putting his head in the reptile's mouth.

"Indeed, they do, George. But I can't remember where from," his brother agreed.

"How long is he?" asked Lee Jordan, their best friend and co-conspirator in all things chaos.

"A little over seven-foot right now, want to see?"

"I think not, Mister Potter," came the commanding voice of Dumbledore. "You are to report to my office once the feast is over."

Teen and snake turned as one to face the famous and powerful wizard. For a moment, the snake's acidic yellow eyes glowed the green of its human, and the serpent spat out a string of hisses. Harry said nothing to either. With slow, deliberate movements, he turned back to his meal. No one misunderstood what had happened. Both Boy Who Lived and his familiar were on the visible outs with the Headmaster.

"What did he say?" Ron asked the question everyone wanted to know, getting a hard-toned six word reply.

"It's not repeatable in polite society."

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OoOoO

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Harry made his way down the corridor that currently held the entrance to the office of Hogwarts' Head. Each of the Founders had their own unique spin added to their school. Salazar had his chamber accessible only to the Founders and other Parselmouths, holding one of the most dangerous beasts known to Wizarding kind. Rowena was the driving force behind the creation of the Room of Requirement, even if the others threw in their aid in its development. Helga was the genius behind the shifting staircases and floor plan, including the trick steps and doors. Her argument was that life was hard, and it was never too early to be aware of dangers, even in a place of supposed safety.

Of course, the students would never know of all the safety wards put in place should a student fall prey to such shifting layouts. Safety wards that Salazar had furiously informed Harry someone had disabled in the 18th century.

Godric's addition resulted from the man's lineage. As Salazar had been born close to, but not a direct heir of, House Peverell, so was Godric to the Pendragon title. The Lord Gryffindor knew full well the importance of not only having a strong seat of power but also protecting it. His office was the school's primary seat of power and needed heavy protections. While the tower's physical position never changed, the entrance constantly shifted. Not just on the monthly or yearly basis, as it appeared to everyone, including the staff, but every day. Sometimes even every hour. Hogwarts manipulated perceptions and even the minds of those within her to keep the truth of this constantly shifting entrance hidden. If two people entered the office from two different floors, they could leave on those same floors. And if they left together, the school would make them both think they entered on a floor equidistant between those two places.

Even as a Lord of the Mind Arts who knew what Hogwarts was doing, Harry could feel his awareness of the school shifting to match the reality Hogwarts had chosen. He didn't try fighting it. He knew from Salazar that it was almost like a type of Knowledge Fidelius, with the 'Secret-Keeper' being a Founder's heir tied into the wards. Dumbledore and his predecessors knew only that the office was one of the school's seats of power that could protect itself should it need to.

"Alright there, Chip?" He called out as he saw griffin guardian to the spiral staircase leading into the Headmaster's tower.

The living statue nodded its head, recognising him as Sal's heir, and moved aside to open the entrance. The Lord of Magic smirked, knowing it would unsettle Dumbledore, as the man hadn't provided the latest password. No doubt the old man wanted him to stand around waiting until he commanded the griffin to open. Harry wasn't completely rude and didn't hide his signature from the alert ward when he knocked on the office door.

"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore called out, failing to fully hide his surprise in his voice.

Harry entered the office, using his Mind Arts to take into the entire room to compare it to his previous memories. With Dumbledore as his enemy, Harry had memorised his every interaction with the old man. The teen left nothing to chance, memorising where every object in the room was for each visit. It was this that allowed him to spot the replaced shelf and its missing instruments. Harry would bet serious money that the shiny objects were tied to him and broke after his birthday ritual, but he wasn't sure what had caused the shelf to be changed.

An uplifting and eager tune sung by Fawkes the phoenix distracted his curiosity. Harry hadn't seen the swan-sized immortal avian since rescuing Ginny and felt his Thunderbird side reacting to its cousin. The two locked eyes with fire and lightning passing between them, all without those in the room being aware. "Evening, Fawkes."

The phoenix mirrored Harry's head bow, causing those watching to blink.

Unlike Harry's talks with the Headmaster in the Infirmary after fighting Quirrell and upon rescuing Ginny, the pair would not be alone for their latest one. Minerva McGonagall sat facing the entrance door near Dumbledore's desk, the angle putting the changed shelf over her right shoulder. Filius Flitwick sat on her left, with Pomona Sprout sitting opposite the Head of Gryffindor House with the visitor's chairs between the two women. Snape stood next to the office's main window, his back against the wall to give the man a clear view of everyone in the room and even the door to Dumbledore's private quarters. It curiously also put him closest to Fawkes.

Harry's assessment of the room did not go unnoticed, nor did Harry miss each reaction to his entrance and new look. Snape looked resigned and desperate for a headache potion, Sprout gave off a bland friendliness that anyone who worked in public services developed out of necessity, and both Dumbledore and McGonagall had harsh lines around their eyes. Flitwick's narrowing caught the Lord of Magic's attention, but before he could wonder what that was about, his enemy spoke.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, my boy. I'm glad to see how healthy you look."

"Compared to my malnourished previous self, Headmaster?" He snarked, taking a seat without being offered. McGonagall's lips thinned at the disrespect, and he only just kept himself from eye-rolling the witch. Harry waved the subject away before setting himself into a position that screamed breeding and social class. "Despite how it came about, I'm delighted with my body, so thank you."

Dumbledore hummed as he sat back, steepling his fingers against his chin to where they intertwined with his beard. Cadwalader slid out from beneath Harry's robe to wrap around his body and the chair until the giant snake's head rested against his bonded's. The sight unnerved some of those watching, with the only sign of Dumbledore's unease being the slight twitch at the corner of one eye.

"I'm afraid, my dear boy, that you won't be able to keep your snake."

"Cad is my familiar."

"It doesn't matter, Harry-"

The Headmaster was interrupted by Harry's laughter, and those keen to the sound heard something dark and cruel within the noise.

"I dare you to take that argument to the Wizengamot," the word almost snarled at how much venom Harry poured into it. "And take me with you so I can watch them laugh you out of the building as they realise you'd then be able to use that right to dictate their own children's familiars."

"Mister Potter!" McGonagall began, only to get a raised hand from her overlord that cut her short.

The Lord and the potential Lord of Magic starred each other down, and there was never a risk of the young man with a thunderbird and basilisk Animagus forms being the one to blink first. Harry's mind felt a 'ping' from his hidden necklace that warned of an attempted Legilimency attack, and the teen smirked at the failure. "Funny thing about having people in my corner. They want to make sure I'm cared for, and that includes from unwarranted attempts at reading my mind."

"How dare you accuse the Headmaster of such a thing," McGonagall decried, while Sprout and Flitwick gasped at the accusation.

"I can't let you keep that snake, Harry," Dumbledore repeated, steel sliding into his grandfather persona. "It might kill someone."

"He won't attack anyone unless they attack me first, or I tell him to. Both are choices by humans, Headmaster. And I won't have Cad attacking students unless it's in self defence."

"That's a curious word," Dumbledore pointed out. The accusation of mental assault going ignored by the elder mage. "Choice. I wonder if you would make a new one if you had the chance."

"You said our choices define who we are. I've found out that my grandmother was Dorea Black, a Slytherin. If I'd allowed the Hat to put me there, I'd be honouring that part of my family, not following in Riddle's footsteps."

"The other students will not take kindly to you having such a pet, my boy."

"Look, Dumbledore," Harry sighed in frustration, ignoring the expected 'Professor Dumbledore' correction from McGonagall. "I'm either a Gryffindor who speaks to snakes, or a Slytherin hiding in red. Which one depends on how the sheep feels from one hour to the next. And I don't care. I will not let you or anyone else take my familiar from me just because some psycho freaked people out by hissing at them while he was trying to take over the world-"

"Potter, behave yourself!"

"Why don't you ban anyone getting into Slytherin if you're so afraid of a new Dark Lord rising? Or carrying wands. Or wearing robes. Magic, ban anyone from Hogwarts with a first name beginning with 'T' just in case-"

"Mister Potter!"

"Didn't Grindelwald have a version of the Protego Charm as a signature spell? Best cancel that from the syllabus too. Wait, Riddle was a Prefect! Are you mad, man? Why haven't you stopped people from being given the badge? It's obviously part of what sent Riddle into being a Dark Lord. Magic, I bet Percy Weasley is halfway to plotting how to take over the world through rules and regulations, given how he was a Prefect and is now Head Boy."

"We get the point, Mister Potter," Dumbledore ground out when it became clear that Harry would not stop, nor heed McGonagall's increasingly agitated attempts at silencing him.

"Really?" Harry scoffed, continuing to shock those watching the one-sided tête-à-tête. He had said the entire rant in the same neutral tone that caused chills to listen to. "Because it would have been nice if any of you had taught the same point last year to stop the students from turning on me for an ability I didn't even know I possessed."

Cadwaladr unravelled to allow Harry to stand, and he rested his fingertips on the desk, leaning forward to tower over the Headmaster. No one missed the alpha body language. One of Dumbledore's bushy eyebrow raised at the sheer audacity of a student doing such a thing to him.

"I've realised something about Hogwarts under your control. There's as much anti-Slytherin bigotry filling these halls as blood purity, and it's all led by you. Do you remember our talk in the Infirmary, Headmaster? 'What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows.' And yet, you waited until the very last moment to publicly grant three rule-breaking Gryffindors just enough points to equal Slytherin to the House Cup. Not when I was unconscious. Not when we talked after I woke up. You did it at the very last moment. Last year, you led me on a thought path that can be summed up by 'You're a good boy, Harry, you asked the Hat not to put you into Slytherin where your parents' murderer went. You'd be just like him if you hadn't.' And now you're trying to break a law that's been a part of our culture since before Camelot was founded. All because my familiar is a snake."

"Mister Potter, you will desist in this nonsense!"

"Enough!" Harry roared, his temper snapping at the Scotswoman's attitude. The smell of ozone filled the office as blazing Avada Kedavra eyes turned to the now standing Transfiguration Mistress. "A Hogwarts Head of House is supposed to be a student's in loco parentis. Their adult defender against other students, teachers, fellow heads, and even the bloody Head themselves should the need arise. If you are unable or unwilling to perform this task, then tell me, and I'll request to be re-Sorted under someone who gives a damn about their students over being this man's lapdog."

The world contains a harsh reality. Age is a significant factor in how others respond to complaints when someone is facing a challenging situation or person. A thirteen-year-old student that complained the person in authority who was supposed to have their back wasn't doing their jobs would get a completely different reaction than if a legal adult complained that their department head wasn't backing them against another powerful colleague. Especially if it was part of their job's mandate.

The 5'8 Scotswoman found herself staring into furious eyes the likes of which she had not seen since before Halloween '81 that were set into a body of equal height that could have equalled James' physicality. That visual disconnect with the knowledge of Harry being only thirteen allowed the eager Hogwarts to step into the shocked silence.

"Granted, Mister Potter!" Sebastian called out, causing both Dumbledore and McGonagall to pale, the latter's hand rising to cover her gaping mouth. ""Better be, Hogwarts!"

The piping of his uniform shifted to the colours of all four Houses, and his badge changed to that of Hogwarts itself.

"Mister Potter is the most talented and well-rounded student this school has produced since the Founders lived, and deserves to be cared for by the faculty. My choice is final. He can enter any common room he desires, mix-and-match his schedule as he wishes, and go to any of the Heads that he feels comfortable with."

"Thank you, Hat," Harry sent a nod to Sebastian on his shelf before turning back to the pale white Dumbledore. "This meeting is over."

"I'll walk you out, Mister Potter," Flitwick suddenly declared, hopping off his hair before Harry made two steps towards the door. "I would like to speak to you alone."

"Of course, sir," he nodded, opening the door for the diminutive man while Cadwalader slithered into his clothes. Neither bothered to give the rest of the room a glance as they left.

"Well," Snape drawled, his amusement clear to those who knew him. "It's a good thing Potter left the Quidditch team earlier. It would be unfair of him to play when he would represent both his opponents and his teammates."

"Severus," Dumbledore sighed, a wrinkled hand reaching up to throw his glasses onto his desk and rub the bridge of his nose. "Enough."

"No, not enough," Sprout declared, glaring at McGonagall. The other woman had collapsed back into seat at the shock of losing Harry Potter as one of her lions. "I am disgusted with you, Minerva. With all of us. We all knew it was illegal to take Mister Potter's familiar from him, and yet we were going to let you. If this is how you care for your Gryffindors, then no wonder Mister Potter has had enough."

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OoOoO

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The mismatched pair moved in a comfortable silence as they made their way down the third-floor corridor towards Flitwick's classroom. It amused Harry when he felt Hogwarts' mental manipulation declare that they had entered the office on that floor. The school clearly wanting them to have the chance to talk, and he would not deny the old girl's nudges.

"How many Patroni are you capable of casting, Mister Potter?" Flitwick asked as they entered the classroom.

"I've found five to be my limit, sir," Harry admitted without concern, getting a nod in return.

"And have you found out why that is the case?" Flitwick followed on, leading the pair through the classroom's inner door to enter his office.

Harry knew the man had another office close to his Ravenclaws, but preferred to use the Charms one on most days so that the non-Claws could more easily speak to him.

"It took me a while, but yes. Unlike most spells, Expecto Patronum feeds on the emotion rather than the magic of the caster." Flitwick was quick to hop into his chair and wave Harry into the one across his desk. Harry felt security wards ripple around them when the man's hand brushed over part of the desk. "Or rather, it feeds on the link that bridges the emotion and the magic. Each Patronus I cast weakens that bridge until it's no longer able to hold."

"A Mastery-level explanation, Mister Potter, I'm impressed."

Harry saw a knowing gleam in the half-goblin's eyes that had his words catch in his throat. The pair stared at each other, and then Harry realised what the talk was about when he noticed Flitwick's skin started glowing in a far too familiar way.

"Inner Blood Magic," he sighed. The irony being that it would be Harry's next ritual that would push his body into recognising the echoes of the magic on others. "You know."

"I do," the Professor admitted, letting the runes fade away. The sheer volume of the runes that covered the man's neck and face had Harry estimate that Flitwick might have equalled or even surpassed Sal's rituals. "I will not be talking to the Headmaster about this, Mister Potter, but you are walking a dangerous road without aid."

Hogwarts brushed against Harry's mind, sending intense feelings of trust through his limited bond with the castle. She had been reaching out ever since he claimed the Slytherin heir ring, and Sal had warned him she would continue doing so to lay the groundwork for his bond upon taking up the Lordship. Harry listened to his first home and reached inside himself, drawing out his Soul Aura to show the truth to Flitwick.

The multi-coloured aura flickered and flowed around him, his own personal aurora borealis. Flitwick's mouth dropped open, and then the Duelling Master was off his chair, racing around the desk to knee at Harry's feet.

"My lord, I am at your service!"

"Rise, Master Flitwick," he commanded, pushing past the irritation at the subservience. Sal had warned him of this. Lords of Magic were seen as demigod children of Magic herself. While there could be various attitudes to the Lord of Magic in question, mages classed them as the highest level of society who were answerable to only another Lord of Magic. "I appreciate your concern, but as you can see, it is not needed."

The man returned to his seat as quickly as he left it, and could only get out one word from his racing thoughts. "How?"

"You're going to be spending a lot of time sharing drinks with Master Snape, sir," Harry warned. "But to make it quick, I found a way of being taught by a Lord of Magic at the end of last year and have been through unique time magics. I have lived over six-hundred days more than my physical age, and the entire time was being trained to become what I am now. Talk to Master Snape and tell him Aetius has given you permission to know everything."

He sent a nudge along the bond with Dobby, and the loyal elf appeared, holding the very item he wanted. A silent nod sent Dobby off to whatever he had been doing, and Harry stood, sliding the folder along the desk to the blinking Flitwick.

"Notes for you, Sir. About her work and some general stuff about you and your friendship that I thought you would appreciate reading. They're from my mother's journal and Grimoire, but I think she would be okay with you having them. You worked on most of the stuff with her before she went into hiding, anyway."

Harry left the stunned man to his racing thoughts. It didn't take him long to get to the Gryffindor portrait, who curtsied upon seeing his approach and opened the portal without asking for the password. The rush of sound from the boisterous Lions stopped when those in the Common Room saw his change in uniform.

"What the bloody hell happened to you?" Came Ron's voice, asking what they all wanted to know.

Harry noticed Hermione had her moody face and wondered what had set the girl off as he made his way over to his friends and dropped into the empty chair. He sighed, leaning his head back against the back of the seat to stare up at the red ceiling. "Dumbledore tried taking away Cad despite him being my familiar, and McGonagall was going to let him."

The shocked cries drowned out Hermione's attempts to correct his lack of titles. Harry waited until they simmered down before continuing. "I told her that if it wasn't for my friends in Gryffindor, I'd be requesting a re-Sorting. The Sorting Hat made me a student of Hogwarts and not any particular House."

Harry didn't add that he knew that this was the original situation with students. The Founders had only taken under their wings those who impressed them, with the rest being sorted by talent rather than age. Even after the Founders had died, the 'Heads of Houses' were the most talented teachers who chose their students from the best of the best. A Headmistress had changed the system centuries later to streamline her paperwork and keep angry parents from demanding their child to be granted the bragging rites of becoming an apprentice.

"What does that mean?"

Once again, Neville asked what they all wanted to know. When Harry lowered his gaze, the level of rage distorting the blond boy's face surprised him. The rest of his House mates all had various looks of disgust or anger at what they were hearing. At least those who understood what having a familiar meant in their society. Those that didn't were having the knowledge shared in harsh whispers.

"I represent the entire school in any events, so I wouldn't be able to play Quidditch even if I hadn't dropped out. I can go to any of the Heads for any problems I have, but I can get into trouble if it looks like I'm playing them off against each other, and I'm allowed to go into any of the Common Rooms. Oh, and my timetable is completely flexible. That's pretty much it. I'll still stay here with you lot."

Cad had slithered off Harry during his explanation and curled under his chair, letting both relax now they were in a safe space.

"Look guys, as far as I'm concerned, it just means I can visit the other Houses - and no, Fred, George, that doesn't mean I'll help you prank them – and now have a wonky timetable that might not see me in some of your classes."

"And probably a pissed of McGonagall out for your guts, Harry-kins," George pointed out while his brother pouted at the rejection of pranking aid. "You're half-way to a full set."

"That's not something I'm aiming for," he snorted, turning to silent Ron to end the conversation. "How about a game of chess?"

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OoOoO

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2nd September 1993 (1 year, 293 days diluted)

Harry's first time-spun morning of his third year at Hogwarts was a microcosm of his experiences at the school. He had a heart-warming discovery of most of the Gryffindors third year and up were waiting to escort him to breakfast in support against Dumbledore and McGonagall's actions the previous night, only to have a confrontation with Hermione before they left the Common Room.

"Harry, I didn't want to do it like this, but enough is enough," the girl began, brown eyes burning with a near-religious fervour. "Do you really expect us to believe that ridiculous story of how you turned into this?"

Gasps and hisses of anger almost knocked the girl over, and Harry sighed at what was about to happen.

"Hermione!" Ron growled. The redhead stunned the witch with the rage and disgust in his voice. Harry knew he had to step in before things went too far.

"Magic is a wonderful thing, Hermione," he began. His tone was level, emotionless, and the Lions settled to let him speak. The students were like a pack ready to descend upon her and very few would have mercy. "Our magical maturities aren't only stages of us getting stronger, they are Magic's way of healing any problems that we may be suffering. Sometimes that healing is what the body desperately needs.

"I was abused, Hermione. My 'bedroom' was the cupboard under the stairs from the moment my parents were killed to when Hagrid showed me the magical world. My body and magic decided I wasn't healthy enough to wait until my maturities naturally healed me, so they kicked started everything. What you see now is how I would have looked in two years. I probably have another two or three years of development to go between now and my birthday. All that's happening is a sped up version of what everyone in this room experiences naturally. Nothing more."

"Then why couldn't I find any information about it? Why wouldn't anyone tell me when I asked them?"

It took Angelina whispering in his ear for Harry to learn Hermione had attempted to interrogate the Lions while he had been in his meetings with Dumbledore and Flitwick. Neville had stepped up to answer the question, so that Harry didn't have to.

"Because it's a private thing! It's kept out of books to keep people from using it as an excuse to abuse their children."

"Then how was I supposed to know?" Hermione demanded to know, her voice rising as her hair frazzled from her wild emotions.

"You could have bloody asked Madame Pomfrey," Ron pointed out, cutting the witch off with the completely logical response.

"Let it go, Hermione," Harry told her with a shake of the head. "If you want the mechanics, then do what Ron suggested, but I refuse to go through the ins and outs of what my past was like and how my body is healing from it. Besides, it's breakfast time and poor Ron hasn't eaten in twelve hours."

Laughter of one kind or another rippled through the crowd, with Ron giving a theatrical frantic nodding to add to the joke. Hermione was first out of the portrait door, embarrassed and angry over the way things turned out, and Harry wondered how long their friendship would keep. Especially once the smart and proud girl got an inclining of how advanced he was.

The next surprise came when the pride reached the Great Hall and the Gryffindors saw the bubbly form of Nymphadora Tonks and the grizzled old man that was "Mad-Eye" Moody. The Senior Master Auror looked like he'd been ridden hard, put away wet, and then chewed on by a wild animal that spat him out after he disagreed with its choice to eat him. And that was without the missing chunk of his nose and the false magical eye that constantly spun in its socket. The old warrior was using a staff taller than either of them, and Harry had heard Moody was skilled in using it for both magical and physical combat.

Students and staff alike were wide-eyed at the near militant attitude of the older Gryffindors as they formed an obvious protection around Harry. It didn't take long for those who had been at the meeting to work out what was going on. Especially when George Weasley stood in front of an approaching Minerva McGonagall while Fred made a beeline to the Hufflepuff table and openly copied Susan Bones' schedule. "I'll take Harry's timetable, Professor."

The Professor handed over the sheet without comment and didn't spare a single look in Harry's direction. The twins set about mocking up a replacement that would let Harry pick which classes he attended, and the Boy Who Lived watched them with fond amusement, his chest warming with emotion at their actions.

"How the bloody hell are you going to do ten subjects in one day?" Ron demanded, drawing Harry's attention away from the twins. The younger Weasley had been looking over the girl's shoulder at her timetable, causing Harry to bite back a groan. "There isn't enough time."

She never had a chance to reply. Dumbledore stood, his presence filling the Hall to cause silence to fall. "Students, as you've no doubt noticed, we have some friends with us this morning. Senior Master Auror Alastor Moody will head Hogwarts security for the year along with trainee Auror and recently graduated Hufflepuff Nymphadora Tonks. Please give the pair a warm Hogwarts welcome."

Harry didn't miss the glare Tonks sent the Headmaster at using her first name, although it delighted him to hear the sheer exuberance that the yellow table showed their alumnus. And by the dazzling smile and wave she gave the Puffs, she was just as delighted.

And into the electric atmosphere stormed a cloud of baby pink and Auror red. A squat, toad-like woman stormed through the Great Hall doors, reminding Harry far too much of the thankfully dead Aunt Marge. "Albus Dumbledore, by order of the Ministry you are to present Harry Potter to be arrested for the murder of Ministry employees!"

The woman's obviously fake high-pitched voice caught everyone's attention, and Harry felt like gagging after hearing the breathless tone. Patricia had spent one evening doing an erotic version of a breathless voice that had caused him endless embarrassment, continued to torment his dreams, and created a tenting in his pants whenever he remembered of it. This woman's mockery of the voice had Harry want to eviscerate her on general principles.

The memory of Patricia's torment meant it took a moment for Harry to realise what the toad masquerading as a woman had demanded. Thankfully, that also meant he missed the annoyance of having most of the hall look in his direction in shock and some horror.

"And whom are you claiming Mister Potter has killed, Madame?" Dumbledore asked, his voice going harder than Harry had ever heard. The question and tone made clear that she had better have proof of the accusation.

"Why the Dementors, of course," the woman giggled, causing the mood of the hall to shift once again.

Harry's wand was out, and he was casting before anyone noticed. The now familiar form of his Patronus appearing beside him. "To Madame Bones from Heir Potter. I am at Hogwarts and a Ministry woman in a horrid pink cardigan has just arrived to arrest me for the destruction of the Dementors that boarded the Hogwarts Express yesterday."

The Patronus shot through the window. The vile woman turned and pointed to Harry, demanding the Aurors arrest him.

"I think not," Flitwick declared. The man was on top of the staff table, wand in hand, and looking ready to attack the Aurors should they make a move. While the woman only sneered at the famed Duelling Master, the DMLE employees at least had the sense to look nervous.

"I didn't know the Dementors got wages, Headmaster," Harry said, while constantly giving his fellow Gryffindors a pleading look to not get involved. The Weasley Twins looked set to lead the older ones into standing between him and the Aurors, and Harry didn't want them to get into the type of trouble this woman appeared capable of causing. "Is it a set wage, or more on a per soul sucked out sort of thing?"

"Neither, Harry," came the twinkling eyed reply. Harry noticed that while Moody was just watching, Tonks' wand was out and she was shifting into position to strike the moment the Aurors turned their backs on her. He knew he needed to stop spells flying before someone got hurt.

"So they're indentured servants? Slaves?"

"They are monstrous Dark creatures that have an uneasy alliance with the Ministry."

"Alliance, huh?" He mused, finally standing. He waved away the attempts of his friends to keep him protected. He was the one doing the protecting. Harry made his way around the table, taking his time to draw out the moment. "And what does the Ministry say about such creatures getting on the Express?"

"The Ministry can send the Dementors anywhere they wish!" the woman proclaimed with all the righteousness of a true zealot.

Cadwaladr slipped out from under Harry's robe to the shock and horror of the trio, and the snake and teen cocked their heads to the side in an eerie symmetry. "Cousin Draco, what do you think your father will do when he hears the Ministry believes they can put you in an enclosed space with a Dementor whenever they please?"

The shocks kept coming for the Hall. First was Harry's declaration of being family with Draco Malfoy, then the realisation of what the woman had claimed the Ministry could do, and then followed Draco's reply. "Forget Father, wait until Mother hears about this!"

The faces of those who knew about Narcissa Malfoy nee Black blanched at the thought of the woman on a rampage, and the Aurors almost fainted at the political shitstorm they had allowed themselves to be drawn into. It gave Harry the opportunity to cast his spell four more times and give the Patroni the same command he had on the train.

"Hunt."

The depth of the pumas' growls caused shivers to ripple across the Hall, and the animals raced off. Harry had reached the centre of the Hall, and was glaring at the beady-eyed woman as the first terrible sounds of dying Dementors filled the air. His hair and clothing shifted at an inviable current as he let some of his magic slip free. The entire performance was peeling back some of his layers to reveal the powerful young man he had become, and what he was about to attempt would be incredibly tricky.

"My parents fought against the monster that killed them and his Death Eaters while most of this country either cowered behind closed doors, or rolled over and played dead. My grandfather was Lord Charlus Potter, a man that earned an Order of Merlin 1st Class fighting against Grindelwald's Inner Circle," Harry pushed on, manipulating his aura similar to how he had with Lucius. Instead of wanting to get the woman to speak the truth, he was projecting an aura of being untouchable. The family history reinforcing the emotions he wanted the toad and her Auror lackeys to feel. "His best friend and wife's cousin was Lord Arcturus Black III, and earned his own for the same thing. Abraham Potter was one of the Original Twelve Aurors that helped forge MACUSA into what it is today."

He had been approaching the trio the entire speech, his eyes glowing with power. Cadwaladr's slitted orbs had shifted to the infamous Avada green, and while the pair made a striking look, it was nothing compared to what happened next. A burst of flames revealed Fawkes, the phoenix landing on Harry's free shoulder. "Woman, my blood has been fighting egotistical shits on power trips for centuries. Don't think you and whoever put you up to this won't make that list."

His speech ended with him as close to the foul woman as he wished to get. The Aurors had backed away the longer he spoke, physically showing their distance from the blotchy faced toad with delusions of adequacy who was obviously barely keeping control of her temper. Their eyes were dancing back and forth between the staring contest and the teacher's table, where a hard-eyed Dumbledore and wand stroking Filius Flitwick were glaring the DMLE employees down.

The entire performance had the sound of the Dementors' death screams as a macabre backdrop. And when the screeching cut off, the heavy silence was just as disturbing.

"This isn't over," the toad hissed, the cute voice vanishing beneath impotent rage. She turned and stormed off, only to stop when the entire hall stood and cheered. Harry knew he'd just made an enemy, but he wouldn't let some Ministry flunky think they could endanger his fellow students.

"Potter," the grizzled voice of Moody cut cross the quieting noise once the woman and her Aurors had left the Great Hall. Harry turned, Cadwaladr and Fawkes mirroring his action. "I knew Charlus, Dorea, and Arcturus. They would have been proud of what you just did."

"Do remember that when you're stalking me over who I spent my summer with," he replied, walking back to the Gryffindors and giving the twins the high fives they were offering.

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OoOoO

SN:

Last Edited - 24th July June 2023

Word Count – 9,627

Previous Word Count - 9,656