TW: Suicidal, blackmail, and theft scenes.

Slytherin Common Room

Ashley Redwood | Sunday Night

Ashley Redwood was a proud girl. Why wouldn't she be?

Her lineage extended from the time of the first recorded shamans, her forefathers "guided" Caesar when he first landed in Britain.

Her ancestors were worshipped as magical fae and warlords by hoodwinked muggles, and they had guarded the British Isles against all manner of nonsense.

Indeed, her physiognomy was a consequence of careful breeding to produce the most optimal outcome. Ashley knew the world was her to command.

The world knew better to tell her otherwise.

Let the Blacks, Lestranges, & Malfoys hide behind their thuggery and bribery. Redwood was a lineage of subtle ministrations that unraveled the wider tapestry of the world.

All others were British elite. Redwood was Britain!

Some apparently haven't gotten the fucking owl about all this it seems. She angrily thought to herself.

Her elder brother and her grandfather- all had dominated Salazar's house as the apex predator. Her father had made his fortunes in Ravenclaw. Her mother was the queen of Hogwarts during her time, who spurned all and was yearned for by everyone.

When her time came and the hat announced her house, she had been expected to dominate Slytherin. After all, this was good practice for when she would have to compete in the real world.

Life in a royal court is nothing compared to Slytherin. Should mere commoners prove difficult for you, you will have no chance in a Veela's soiree. Her father had warned her.

She had her marching orders. When the time came, she did her best. She befriended all the right people, ate well, maintained her figure, studied hard, and kept the half bloods and the mudbloods in their place.

Yet there was one who had laughed at her schemes. Whose wand work surpassed hers at every turn.

When their eyes met, all she had to offer Ashley was a single raised mocking eyebrow asking,

Is that all?

Ashley closed her eyes and rubbed her temples as her blood pressure rose and her head heated up. This had been happening for a while.

Morrigan Riddle She shuddered as she thought of that name. How she wished to rip those purple eyes out.

Things had been equal between them. Whatever the brat had done, it had mightily pissed of Albus Dumbledore. Subtly leaking Riddle's suspected plot always had him sniffing like a hell hound.

She had hoped to become the man's apprentice when the time came. This way her magical abilities could surpass Riddle's.

All that had come crashing down when dumb refugee brute who she had never heard of before was granted that honored title.

Another wave of loathing went through her. She had owled her father and he said that Harry Petrov's records were clean on the surface.

He had promised her to keep digging but she didn't have faith.

Her father had his favorite in her older brother, and he had been in a delicate tug of balance between Grindelwald's dangerous attention and old school Pureblood family politics.

My father doesn't give a shit about me. She moaned internally.

Her "friends" exchanged concerned looks with each other. Rachel Parkinson subtly began casting privacy charms around their gathering place. Hogwart's walls, even in abandoned classrooms, had many ears and when Ashley reached full steam, she didn't care where they were or who heard what.

"Dear, you have got to stop stressing so much. It is going to ruin your skin." Rachel said while casting spells. "How many times do you need to be assured? She is nothing in front of you!"

Ashley said nothing and took deep swings of her hookah. Her mind was elsewhere.

"I agree. An upstart urchin will always remain an urchin." Martin said. "Regardless of whatever delusions of ambition they might have. Minister Black is going to fall by month's end. Then your father's control over the ministry will be absolute."

The Goyle brothers said nothing original in their bid for sycophancy and merely nodded.

She blew out smoke circles as Parkinson and Martin tried to outdo each other.

"Petrov." Ashley said silencing the duo.

"Toss that half breed, Ashley. Dumbledore has always been a muggle loving coot. There was no way he would have been wise enough to take you as an apprentice." Parkinson said.

"Not that he deserves you anyhow." Marin said.

"HE" Ashley said placing heavy emphasis on the word as she tossed the pipe at Rachel's face, "took something of mine! Something that bloody well was my birthright!"

"He could be beneficial if we bring him to the fold." Marin wondered aloud.

"And let a half breed steal Ashley's birthright? I wonder where your loyalty lies, Martin?" Rachel spat out.

"It lies within me unlike your brain, Parkinson. Imagine if we openly declared hostilities against him. He would be running to Slughorn in a minute." Martin said.

"A useless obese toad who is a heart attack awa-" Rachel said but Marin cut her off.

"Who still happens to be our house head and can make life difficult even for us for at least the next 3 years." Martin said.

"Nothing he does can be long-lasting. A single owl from Ashley's father will have him singing a different tune." Rachel said. "By Merlin, if men like you are the best, we have for Slytherin, we can kiss our hides goodbye."

Martin visibly looked irritated now as he let out a frustrated sigh to Ashley's amusement. Ashley loved little disputes like this between her lieutenants. Keeps them on their toes in a bid to win her affection.

"Ashley please, consider this. My cousins are from Eastern Europe. Trust me, anyone who has ever been raised in that part of the world, has done something that is a major cultural faux pass to someone of Dumbledore's sensitivities." Martin said.

He scooted his cushion towards Ashley and leaned forward,

"All I am saying is, let me work on the kid. He is a fourth year and pretty much an awkward bumbling loner. A month with me, and I will have him singing like a canary. Then you make your move, expose him, and get Dumbledore's attention." Martin concluded.

"Or we can stop shivering in our skirts and get tweedle dee and tweedle dumb" She gestured towards Crabbe twins as they owlishly stared at her, "to be useful for once. Hit him and drive him six feet under." Rachel said.

"Uh-huh. Murder great. What will we do when the Aurors show up?" Martin asked.

"People disappear all the time. It is a large forest outside. The game- "

"THE GAME advises to be subtle in your actions. Trashing the boy's chest merely pissed him off. He placed wards that nearly took tweedled-dee's fingers off. Regardless of his status, Petrov has skill." Martin cut her off.

Before the two could squabble further, Ashley cut them off.

"Martin, take it off from here. Do not disappoint."

A victorious Martin grinned at Rachel as she sneered in frustration.

Ashley blew off smoke rings while staring off into space.

Hogwarts

Harry Petrov

His core was a mess.

There was no other way around it. Of course, he should have accepted that. He screwed up everything else, why would this be any different.

He glanced down at the letter he was working on despite working on Potions review. His bedside covers engulfing him in darkness, it better helped him cope with his shame. Slughorn would be furious, but he didn't care.

Dumbledore had broken the good news to him about wanting him as an apprentice. In another life, he would have been ecstatic. Now he feared revealing his affliction to Dumbledore.

For now, Dumbledore didn't establish a date for them to meet. He said he needed to go over what coursework would best suit Harry.

Would he replace him if he knew? Harry wondered.

He once again frowned as he glanced down at the letter below. He had spent two auto-quills trying to narrow down his thoughts, a lot had been transplanted from his journal, but he wondered if it was enough.

The title boldly stated, "The Life & Failures of Harry Petrov formerly Harry Potter."

It seemed fitting. He had placed all his life events until now in this letter.

The letter was addressed to Dumbledore.

An apt insurance policy to ensure the continuity of war in case Harry fell. Dumbledore needed to know what was coming.

His latest brush with death had coldly reminded him of his mortality. Fighting bums with Rupert had made him too confident in his abilities. All it took was a single detection spell for Grindelwald's thugs to eliminate him.

Coward.

His mind whispered to itself, and Harry struggled to hold back tears. He had given up quidditch, friends, and all semblance of distraction- he had thrown himself into academic vigor, yet he still struggled.

Visions of Dumbledore's titanic clash echoed in his mind again and Harry shuddered. The sheer brilliance of the might he had witnessed; it was something else entirely.

Now that his core was gone, his focus in Defense Against the Dark Arts had evaporated. The auror turned Professor had taken umbrage to his sudden laggardness but he didn't care.

His mind wandered back to the night a while back.

"What's next, Fate? Will I develop an allergy to broomsticks? Perhaps my wand will turn into a feather duster! Oh, the joys of being Harry Potter!"

Harry whimpered as he stood at the top of the tower.

The owls hooted aimlessly behind him, but he didn't care. The letter he had been working on lay silently tucked away in a delayed delivery box.

Soon Dumbledore will learn of everything and will plan accordingly. He was better suited at the task than him anyhow.

Soon it will all be over Harry thought as he gazed at the depths below.

The height was sufficient. Soon it will all be over.

His thoughts roared at him mercilessly. Calling him a coward and a traitor. He didn't care.

"Lad yer okay?!" A heavy voice called out and grabbed him by the hood of his robes.

"Yer gonna fall off!" The man physically manhandled him as he placed him in the floor's middle.

Hagrid surveyed the scene, his furrowed brow unraveling the puzzle before him. The silence stretched on, pregnant with unspoken words.

"Blimey, we nearly fell off, didn't we?" The man joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"I-I suppose we did. I apologize for troubling you." Harry said in a choked voice.

"Bah! It's no worry mister! It's just big ol' me, Hargrid. Helping people wherever I can!" the man responded.

Fuck Harry thought.

"I-I didn't quite capture yer name, mister?" Hagrid asked.

"I am Petrov, Harry Petrov." Harry said.

As if a damn broke off Hagrid excitedly started off.

"Blimey! Yer really are 'Arry Petrov?!"

"Er, Yes, Mr. Hagrid."

"Wow you must be some kinda genius if Dumledore thinks you are good enough to be his apprentice."

"I don't thi-"

"You are too modest, 'Arry! We all know Dumbledore is great. No equals there.I reckon you must be mighty smart and talented for Dumbledore to take ya under his wing. I'm amazed he chose ya as his apprentice, I am! Dumbledore, he's like a generous uncle to folks like me. Never looked down on me 'cause I couldn't do magic well. He held me up, he did. Never gave up on me."

Harry looked away again in embarrassment as Hagrid praised without filters.

"I'm privileged to be in Hogwarts, every single day, Harry. It's a blessin', it is. And y'know what? I may not be as good at wand-wavin' as ya in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but mark my words, I'm studyin' hard to surpass everyone in Care for Magical Creatures. You better watch out!" Hagrid said.

Each day is a blessing Harry thought as Hagrid continued in the background.

Each day is a blessing, Harry. Harry whispered the man's last words to him.

Hagrid's voice was filled with determination, an interesting concept.

If Hagrid could find light in the darkest of times, then Harry, too, would seek out that flicker of brightness amidst his own turmoil.

Regardless of how dark the road might be.

He tightened the grip around himself, he will find a new way. Muggle, Riddle, or Grindelwald – he was down for the count but not out.

He must find a new way.

After his month-long loner stint, Harry had taken to interacting with his roommates to some degree. They had initially been dodgy, suspecting that Harry was interrogating them for his chest's trashing.

That paranoia had died down as Harry did not pursue the matter nor any authorities were involved.

He had the list of Rakta root fellows, but the medical issue had sidelined any investigation.

Truth be told he had begun to feel lonely. He was hoping to mutual conversation with boys his age would lead to further social developments.

Besides, all roads to Riddle had been blocked because one thing after another kept him occupied.

"If you glare any harder, that letter will be on fire." A voice spoke and promptly dropped itself on the chair opposite him. Harry hastily hid the letter he was editing.

It was Martin. This was certainly a new development in his life. While others looked down at him for being halfblood – Martin had begun a mission to break through his walls and get at him.

Truth be told, again, he wasn't sure he wanted new friends. Every time he was close to having a new mate, images of a torn-up Hermione or a burnt Ron flashed through his mind. He felt like he was betraying their memory by befriending anyone else.

Still, Martin was not dissuaded by his polite cool demeanor. And Harry was a million times grateful that Martin had persisted. A shudder went through him as he remembered the night before.

He had avoided Hagrid, not willing to face the man who was his first friend, after he unknowingly saved him from his own stupidity. Martin was fair game.

He simply re-sealed the letter and quickly put it in his bag.

"Besides, who are you writing to anyhow?" Martin said and then leaned forward mischievously. "Is it a naughty letter? A forbidden romance with a homely girl in Hufflepuff?"

Martin let out a conspiratorial "O" as a shadow passed by. Harry subtly turned to see Riddle entering the forbidden section.

"Or is it for her? You do know she has been looking at you from the shadows" Martin said.

"Is that so?" Harry said.

"Uh huh. Got her posse in your year looking at you." Martin said as he motioned with his head to a nervous boy pretending to read an astronomy chart. "Too bad she is with the Malfoy brat now. Else, I think you would have gotten the stick loosened from her." He winked.

"You are gross." Harry said.

"But honest." Martin sneakily pulled out two shot glasses and pushed one towards him. "It's not surprising you don't know much of our Slytherin history. Fair enough. What's not right is that you continue to remain ignorant. This is not exactly a house for the shut-ins, you know?"

"I appreciate your efforts to enlighten me." Harry said as pulled out a bottle and rolled it towards Martin.

"Now who said I was gonna-" Martin started and paused as the bottle's lid came into his view.

He whistled lowly while glancing for the Librarian about. "Now where the hell you get this from?"

"Am Russian. Drinks are our forte." Harry said and smirked.

Martin nodded in a conceding manner and poured them a mouthful.

"To History Lessons." Harry raised his glass.

"To great booze." Martin said and clinked his glass with Harry's.

The two winced as the beverage cleared travelled down their throat.

"Damn, pardon my French here, that kicks like a pregnant troll." He wiped his mouth. "Well, my Ruskie lad, this was sufficient bribe. What do you wanna know." Martin said.

"Malfoy, Riddle. What do you know?" Harry said.

"Ahhh, so you really are obsessed with her." Martin said but piped down when Harry shot him a glare.

Martin let out a sigh as he gathered his thoughts before starting.

"Look when Riddle showed up, she was just a pure freak. An anomaly. A gangly pale girl with not a Slytherin drop of culture within her. Imagine the surprise that ran through the house when the hat placed her here." Martin said and traced his finger along the shot glass.

"And so many in the second and third year endeavored to welcome her to fine Slytherin hospitality. Infirmary visits on either side but mostly Riddle started to happen. But it wasn't for long. Certain 4th & 6th years, took pity on her. Some say it was on Slughorn's urging. The Quidditch captain & Prefect combined forces to get the kids to stop. Slughorn, that daft fool felt too afraid of the noble families to directly chastise the heirs. As she approached second year, the balance shifted." Martin said.

"What did she do?" Harry asked.

"She started striking back, cold-blooded like. Every bully she had, hit with spells so precise, it was like nothing we'd ever seen before," Martin shivered, tracing his finger along the shot glass. "Boils, aches, and jinxes, all ended up in the infirmary. The weirdest part? None of it could be traced back to her. Her hands were clean. There were indications Riddle was good, but this was beyond belief. Still to this day, nobody knows where she learnt the spells that she did."

"That still doesn't explain why Malfoy would be best friends with a Slytherin," Harry pressed.

"None of us know," Martin confessed, meeting Harry's annoyed gaze. "Honest to Merlin, we have no idea. Something happened toward the end of her third year. Many cried that Malfoy heir was under an Imperius. It was downright strange. From cold indifference to being her biggest supporter, Malfoy became her new sugar daddy."

"Sugar daddy? What's that?" Harry questioned.

Martin snorted, "It means he showered her with gifts to win her affection. Come on, Petrov, shouldn't you Russians know about that by now? Being the ugly goblins and all."

Harry glared at him, while Martin chuckled.

"Anyway, soon enough, Miss Riddle went from wearing secondhand robes to clad in the finest silk, pearl jewelry, and dragonhide boots. But that wasn't all," Martin motioned for another refill.

Annoyed at the shameless extortion, Harry poured another glass from Rupert's exotic collection.

"Rumor has it, Abraxas Malfoy didn't stop at material goods. Riddle was introduced to the Arete."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Greek word. Arete are tutors hired by rich pureblood families to teach their kids. Usually when they're young or teenagers. They cover subjects like oratory, philosophy, debate, and physical training," Martin explained.

"Physical training?"

"A regimen to counter obesity. Exercises, movements, and basic fencing to keep 'em in shape."

"How very muggle of them." Harry said.

"I will have you know it came directly from Godric Gryffindor the third. As he put it, obesity was maligning magical beauty. If anyone mocks it too deeply, they merely say they are following Merlin's traditions from his days at the Roundtable. Besides, It's rare these days, only the wealthiest families can afford the Arete on top of Hogwarts."

"Hmm, like the Redwoods, I suppose," Harry said, causing a shocked expression on Martin's face.

"You don't like it when the tables turn, do you?" Harry thought, but only said, "I reckon you wouldn't follow, Martin."

"I- I don't understand, Harry," Martin stammered.

"No, I reckon not," Harry said as the bells rang, signaling the start of charms class.

Frowning, Martin watched as Harry packed up and left the library.

The charms professor welcomed him warmly.

With heavy spell casting on the back burner, he had decided to pursue other avenues to compensate.

Nurture your strengths, for within them lies the power to conquer your weaknesses.

Thus, his vigor for charms had increased. He recalled Minerva McGonagall telling him how spectacular Lily Potter was at charms. In a way, he thought he was paying tribute to his mother.

Thus, Professor Merrythought had become quite appreciative of him.

Today, we embark on a journey to explore the depths of multi-charm casting—a true test of your magical finesse. Prepare yourselves for a challenge that will push the boundaries of your abilities.

Many had failed it; They levitated it too quickly causing the test dummy to crash into the roof. Or the illumination was too intense, and the dummy caught fire.

He stepped forward with a polite smile. The ability to draw lessened magic from the environment was bad.

He waved his wand with the appropriate flight motion causing the dummy to levitate.

But the new circumstances had granted him greater control over how he directed & manipulated magic during output.

Careful Harry. It's Levioasa not Leviosar. Harry thought to himself as he held back from laughing.

The dummy levitated in the air with a halo of light surrounding it, like an angel in judgement over mortals.

The class clapped politely as Merrythought fawned over the display.

25 points to Slytherin. Merrythought announced. He smiled as the class politely clapped. A few Slytherins cast appreciative glances his way.

It felt good.

Saturday Morning.

A ripple in the light caught his attention and Harry made an active effort to not directly stare at the spot.

His experiences under Rupert's dubious tutelage had honed his instincts, making him more aware of when a deal was smelly.

For now, he didn't want to rattle the cage and obliged Martin's request for a walk.

"A multi-charm on a first attempt. That's some real magical talent." Martin said as the two walked together by the great lake on a morning walk.

"Your friends keep you well informed." Harry said.

"It's part of the process." Martin shrugged and Harry stayed silent.

"Look Harry. I don't know what it is like for the other houses. But Slytherin is different." Martin said.

"Do all Slytherin elders force their mates into spying games?" Harry said.

"Yes." Martin said.

"Why?"

The two turned around as the mud got wetter and Harry spied the ripple again.

Amateurs. He thought to himself.

Martin sighed, the weight of his family's struggles evident in his voice. "You see, my family... we were poor. Grindelwald's war left me orphaned, with only an ailing grandmother left. My father was deeply tied to Grindelwald and nearly emptied our family treasury supporting him. We were on the brink of destitution."

Harry listened attentively, not Martin's words but cracks of wood and leaves. Anything to enable him to estimate the presence around them.

"That's why I was forced to associate with the likes of Ashley Redwood and do her bidding," Martin explained, a mixture of frustration and resignation evident in his tone. "My grandmother's medical bills are astronomical, and I can't afford them alone. Ashley, she drops me a galleon pouch now and then to keep me loyal or to arrange for rare ingredients. To her, the amount doesn't even register. Her wealth is so vast, it's beyond most people's comprehension."

A quite pause followed as Martin turned to face the early morning sun glowing over the lake.

Harry stared at Martin's back. Then he turned his head to stare at his back. The shimmering was no longer visible, but his sixth sense could tell someone was watching them.

If they wanted to ambush, they would have done so already.

Arry luv, a good fisting reveals much about a man. Rupert's wisdom echoed.

Harry streteched his arms out and pretended to yawn, his robes long sleeves covered his wand.

Illusion! Harry whispered quietly and felt a realistic hologram of himself and Martin a feet away from the river.

He quickly turned around and placed his arm around Martin as he turned to see what Harry was doing.

"Martin, I am so sorry to hear that. Being under those circumstances… is somewhat relatable."

This better fucking work. Harry thought as he palmed his wand and focused with all his might.

Glovis! Harry roared inside his mind. His first foray into non-verbal spellcasting.

"I can imagine how hard it is for you as well." Harry said as he felt Martin's bewilderment.

His other hand dove deep into the boy's pocket.

Thank God the kid wasn't sensible enough to ward his clothes as well.

Glovis's effects cleared out all clearings as Harry felt a round object touch his thumb. He quickly pulled it out and placed it up his long sleeve as Martin turned to see him, his mouth agape.

"I honestly don't know what to say, Harry."

"Nonsense Martin. You are my first true friend in Hogwarts. Did you honestly think I would hold something like that against you? Where I come from, blackmail like this is tradition."

He steered the boy around and proceeded to push him to take the lead in front. Harry locked his arms together, the wand pointed at the hidden object.

Geminio He whispered as he felt a duplicate form in his hands. He quickly leaned forward and placed the fake in Martin's pocket.

Thank Merlin for looseness of robes.

Martin felt something was physically wrong and he turned but Harry was faster. He sympathetically but firmly guided Martin with his arm.

"Oh, by the way, Martin, if I can help you grandmother in any way whatsoever- do let me know."

Martin grinned like a Cheshire at Harry's comment.

"I might just hold you that Mr. Petrov." Martin said.

Harry merely smiled in response.

The Next Day

Professor Slughorn, I was hoping to get a pass to the restricted section of the library.

Restricted section, eh? That's not typically something we grant to someone your age.

I've been selected as an apprentice in Alchemy by none other than Professor Dumbledore himself. Representing Slytherin House, and by extension, you, to such an esteemed wizard, it would be advantageous for me to be armed with knowledge and not appear clueless in front of Dumbledore.

Granted. On one condition. Pick up your slack in Defense since you can't be bothered anymore. I will arrange extra tutoring for you. You will comply!

-sigh- yes, professor.

A quick quill furiously worked away, sketching elaborate illustrations, and writing spells in headings. His recent interest in charms and history had motivated him to craft a grimoire of sorts.

It was good practice for both academic and practical life. After all, his current task required charms to be observed.

The sleek black cylinder lay in front of him. A quick revelio revealed no hidden runes or messages crafted on the object.

So, no anchors on it, it's purely spells. Perhaps blood or a catchphrase triggers it? Harry thought.

He bought the cylinder close, held his wand near his eye, and cast a magnifying charm.

Ah smudges and chewing tracks over it. Maybe he held it close to his mouth? Harry wondered.

Regardless, Martin had left a trail and he intended to exploit it.

He bought the grimoire closer to him and observed the spell he had found in the restricted section.

Revelio Historii

The spell was complex and required both spiritual and magical aspects to work. The magical aspect involved knowing how to cast it with the proper wand movement and theory. Furthermore, it involved biological contact of the mark. In this case, Martin's fingerprints and teeth marks would do.

Other than that, was spiritual, Martin and he had become sort of friends before he had learned of his original clique with Redwood from idle chatter in the common room. Clearly, the boy had an ulterior motive when he chose to interact with him of all people when word got out that Dumbledore had chosen him.

There was also the fact that he revealed his grandmother's condition. Harry believed he had a suitable lead on the boy.

REVELIO HISTORII

He saw a girl, Martin called her Parkinson, hand out three cylinders.

Parkinson explained the usage of these.

Just tap your wand three times along the left side, and you can either talk or leave a verbal message, Parkinson said.

Well done, Parkinson.

Harry tapped his wand three times along the sleek black cylinder, activating its enchantment. In an instant, he found himself eavesdropping on a conversation between Ashley and Rachel, their voices clear and distinct.

"Rachel, you really need to step up your game. You've been slacking lately," Ashley said coldly.

"I apologize, Ashley. I'll do better, I promise." Rachel said. "You know, Martin hasn't been on the channel for a while. I suspect he's off somewhere, snogging some dumb Hufflepuff, making empty promises of marriage. I've tried to reach out, but he's completely ignoring me."

Ashley's response was curt. "I'll deal with Martin later. Focus on what's important."

Rachel's voice was filled with regret. "I should have confronted him properly. It's just that Professor Goldman—"

Ashley interrupted sharply, her words cutting through Rachel's attempt to explain herself. "Goldman, Goldman! You need to learn to handle your classes better, Rachel. Stop making excuses."

Rachel's voice trembled as she apologized, "I'm sorry, Ashley. You're right. I'll do better."

Ashley's tone shifted, her voice dripping with disdain. "What did you learn about Harry Petrov. I told you tail the meeting between him and Martin."

Rachel hesitated, then confessed, "I... I saw Harry place some sort of illusion around Martin and himself. I thought I was spotted, so I had to retreat."

Ashley erupted in fury, her voice escalating. "You foolish girl! Do you have any idea what you've done? You're as dumb as a flobberworm, and you're starting to look as fat as one too!"

Rachel's voice turned hysterical, filled with apologies. "I'm so sorry, Ashley. I'll report everything in detail when we meet next. Please don't be mad."

A brief pause followed, then Ashley's voice returned, colder this time. "Same spot as usual?"

Rachel's voice, meek and submissive, suggested, "Maybe we should change locations."

Abruptly, Ashley snapped at her, "Shut up!" Rachel spluttered in confusion, asking what was wrong.

"I sense Martin's presence on the channel," Ashley said with determination, her voice demanding. "Martin, speak up and tell us where you've been all this time!"

Panicking, Harry severed the connection, severing his link to the conversation.

His heart raced as Harry stared dumbfoundedly at the cylinder. Harry took deep breaths to calm himself till the only thing he could hear was the auto quill furiously writing on his grimoire.

The device worked just like a muggle cellphone from his time. The Parkinson girl was talented but not paranoid enough to place adequate protections against eavesdropping.

Still, he will have to promptly replace the fake cylinder with the real one.

I still don't know where they will be meeting. Harry mused.

He looked down at the contraption once again and an idea began to take root.

Geminio

Harry whispered focusing on the properties and build of the cylinder. A perfect twin emerged in front of his eyes. And Harry smirked at the outcome. Wasting no time, he turned and carved a tracking rune beneath Martin's cylinder.

Martin will be none the wiser.

"This is most impressive." A polite voice said.

Harry immediately stuffed the cylinders beneath the desk and turned around to see the voice's source.

Icy spiders crawled down his spine as Morrigan Riddle imperiously stared at the grimoire he was compiling.

"The use of auto-quills while time efficient, present a lot of mistakes when it comes to complexities." Riddle held up the book to it while ignoring the quill's furious protesting movement. "You see how the diagram for your multi charm casting dictates to bring the wand down after Leviosa? A mistake." Riddle said as she turned her eyes from the grimoire to him.

A nervous twitch in his neck forced his head away, breaking his stare from meeting Riddle's.

"You are supposed to keep your wand at the arc's top and then cast another spell" Riddle concluded.

"Uh- Thank you ma'am. I-I uh appreciate your help." Harry stammered as he struggled to connect words together.

"It's no problem, Mr. Petrov. But please, call me Morrigan."

"Right Morrigan. Please call me Harry."

Morrigan looked at him before she started again. Every word she spoke was weighed, polished, and spoken with an aristocratic regality.

"Now I believe there are two reasons for my visit, Harry." Morrigan said. "Firstly, Professor Slughorn approached me regarding your defense predicament. He has asked me if I could provide additional support. I was informed that you have already consented?"

"Uh, yes, I agreed. I have heard about you. It will be, uh, a pleasure to learn from someone like you." Harry said.

"Someone like me?" Riddle said with a raised eyebrow. Purple eyes staring in his face.

Harry cringed internally while maintaining a polite exterior demeanor. "Uh, nothing controversial. I have just been told you are the best in Slytherin by all metrics. Professor Slughorn even goes as far as saying that you are the second coming of Salazar himself just like Dumbledore is for Gryffindor."

Riddle chuckled and shook her head dismissively at his last comment.

"Most amusing. People are far too kind. I just believe in effective time management and an open mind." Riddle said as she composed herself.

"Regardless, Harry, as an authority on myself" She placed a hand on his shoulder.

A vision flashed in his eyes and Harry visibly flinched.

A horribly disfigured albino man rising out of a cauldron. He touches his face in seductive wonder. His eyes open, they are furious red.

"Please consider just directly asking me." Riddle briefly narrowed her eyes as she spoke.

What the hell is going on? Harry thought.

"I sure will. You mentioned a second thing you wanted to discuss." Harry said, not wanting to give Riddle a moment to ponder the strange occurrence.

"Ah yes, pardon me." She said as she composed herself. "As a newly appointed prefect and a young one to boot, I try to venture and develop bonds with students. Especially, the newcomers."

"That's nice to hear." Harry said.

Riddle smiled and dipped her head in acknowledgement. "I am glad you approve. Although, the next point might not bring such mirth to you." She paused. "It has come to my attention that your dorm trunk has been violated. As someone who had witnessed such things go unchallenged during her younger years, it deeply pains me to hear about this."

"Morrigan, I great appreciate your concern, but it seems to be a one-time affair." Harry said.

"If you can share suspects, I am sure I can help. Regardless, of their social privileges." Morrigan said.

Ah, so that's what this is about.

"Rest assured, Morrigan. The situation is under control." Harry said.

Riddle sighed.

"Duly noted, Harry. I am too pre-occupied during the mornings. We will have to schedule the classes after hours. Is that acceptable?"

Harry nodded in affirmative.

Gang of Three

Hogwart. Morning.

The gang of three paused and stared at each other when they came into contact.

Or more like the two stared at Martin in fury as he sighed and opened the door. Without a word, Parkinson slapped his hand away from the door and started casting charms on it.

Fools Harry thought as he picked up their chatter via the altered cylinder. While they undoubtedly knew spells, the gang put little thought into alternate ways their conversation could be tracked.

Too one dimensional. Didn't bother with windows or even magical scrying. The twins would have eaten them alive. Harry thought.

He kept one ear to the conversation and one ear on the ground, this was slightly hostile territory. Slytherin seniors would not take too kindly to him snooping around their dorms.

Believe me Ashley, Martin spoke like a gutter boy from a rusty Irish tin pot. He has lost his touch. Some sob story about a grandma and he expects Petrov to be all gaga over him.

Better than having aurors hunting down our heels. Trust me my dear, you won't last a day in a room without a hot bath, much less 10 years in Azkaban. Besides my plan is proceeding flawlessly. Rachel & Martin continued to exchange barbs in their meeting room.

Especially when he looked like Abraxas Malfoy's twin. Even worse, when the real Abraxas was expected to be outside with Slughorn witnessing Slytherin's inaugural quidditch match of the season.

Still if anyone asked, he was a 7th year. A stern mind your own business ought to do the trick.

His heart ached when he thought about his beloved sport, but he hardened his resolve.

Too much was at stake here to waste it on quidditch.

He moved through the dorm room as the school wards challenged him. He passed through them harmlessly as he had no spells over him. The protective spells didn't recognize a Metamorph Malfoy entering 5th year dorms.

Now where would Martin sleep?

His eyes scanned the trunk names.

Aha. A red bold colored Martin flashed before his eyes.

A simple alohomora won't cover it. Harry eyed the trunk over.

He let his wand wander over the trunk, taking in the forms. A crack in the protective web caught his eye, Martin didn't cover the straps with his wards.

Diffindo

Unwise Martin. Physical force can be just as bad as magic. Clearly you are not a Pharoah. The straps came loose, and Harry popped open and started searching.

There was nothing beyond generic schoolboy stuff as Harry carefully sifted through the objects.

I already have lured Potter with my grandmother story. It has an element of truth to it, if he decides to investigate. Working on him further, I will convince him to procure dangerous artifacts for me inside Hogwarts. When I know for sure he has them, we will have him turned into authorities. I sense a heroic can-do character about him. That mudblood won't know what hit him.

Might as well marry him, Martin, since you know him so better.

That's enough, both of you. Ashley said.

Fury raged inside Harry as he heard the conversation.

Very well Martin. Two can play that game. I probably had it coming for pitying a rat like you. Harry thought.

Harry radically changed his plan and immediately started working.

He pulled a package he had gotten from Polka earlier and pointed his wand at the bottom of the trunk. The bottom tore open silently accessing him the stone floor below. Another flick of his wand and a whispered word later, the stone floor opened up and Harry placed the package inside.

A quick reparo and everything repaired itself while cushioning around the package. The trunk closed with an ominous thud. He placed his hands over the trunk to steady himself as his emotions ran rampant.

A betrayal by his very own. Especially, the one who had talked him through a very dark time.

For fook's sake boy, don't let em off their feets. Kick em!

Harry smirked as he straightened his tie. Rupert always had his wise moments.

"Malfoy?" A voice called out and Harry stiffened.

He slowly turned around to see a chubby confused looking ginger openly staring at him.

Harry slowly walked towards him, his mind racing through solutions over what to do with him.

His vocals weren't functional to match Malfoy's tone. He merely loomed over the kid and raised an eyebrow he didn't know he could. The kid withered under his gaze and began fidgeting.

"I mean uh-uh Mr. Malfoy, uh what are you doing?" he said.

Don't make me do something I'll regret! Back off now! Harry didn't reply but screamed as he discreetly pointed his wand's tip at the boy's ribs.

His expression must have turned something mean because the boy withered even more,

"I mean uh, Mr. Malfoy, I didn't see anything. I don't know anything." He said and raised his right hand in a show of oath.

Harry let out a smile he didn't know he was holding and promptly walked towards his rooms, leaving the fifth-year spluttering at the strange encounter.

Worse comes worse, they will assume Malfoy was being shifty. Slughorn might poke him a few times, but ultimately no good will come from it. Malfoy will still be in Hogwarts.

I didn't see anything. I don't know anything, the kids whimpering voice again echoed in his head.

Harry furiously snorted at that.

Damn straight you didn't. Harry thought as he lay on his poster bed, his body shivering in anticipation. He covered his face with his hand as anxiety ran rampant through him.

He would break Rachel's fang, hand over Martin to Riddle on a spit, and be one step closer to infiltrating Riddle's group. Ashely will live but Martin would be stomped.

A series of outcomes he could live with.

Just like Martin won't see me coming.

Author Notes: Welcome to the start of a long infiltration mission and changing alliances. I have thoroughly analyzed the story back and front and hope to better my pacing. Obviously, Rome was not built in a day. As for Riddle, it always wild how people will show her to be an emotionless robot. Meanwhile, in lore Riddle is described as having intense personal charisma. I wanted to showcase that side of her via this fic. Lastly, please please please review.
LOVE THE STORY- Leave a review telling us why.
Hate THE STORY- Lemme know how I can do better.
Have a guess over the current direction or simple lore recommendations, leave a review! :) :)

Chapter 13 is almost done and will be released soon. thank you for your patience. Hvae a great day ahead!