Key:

"Words."

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

~~Parseltongue~~

¬¬Foreign Language¬¬

"Magical language."

A Pair of Alliances

1st August 1993

It was no surprise Harry wasn't at his best. His magic fizzled inside him, making him feel like he was on a caffeine high, while his muscles ached as they had after he first started exercising. Salazar had warned him it would be the case, and Harry had passed the warning to the sisters. They told him to take the day off, even excused him from the 'family meals,' and Salazar had even given him the same courtesy. This was why he was reading alonewhen Dobby popped into his room above Sight UnSeen with a surprise letter.

Aetius,

I've been informed of some shocking information that will be publically revealed shortly in what passes for news in this damnable country. Your mother's mutt has escaped the illegal pound it was forced into. Everyone is in a bit of a panic, and believe the mongrel may viciously attack anyone who comes across it. Especially you. While I may doubt this, another wild animal has also escaped. This one is especially dangerous.

Whatever you and your grandfather have been up to has caused some interesting blowback. I've been reliably informed that an old shrew your mother wanted nothing to do with, its disgusting partner, their waste of oxygen offspring, and a visiting sister are dead due to their home collapsing in on itself. According to the man behind the curtain, his security system went with it. I can only assume this was an intended action. Alas, it also took down the Ministry's own system with it, and now our wonderful leader is panicking over a notorious absence from said property.

Do get your other self somewhere public to calm the exceedingly frayed nerves of old men and corrupted Ministers. I will turn you into potions ingredients if I am forced to actually search for you by said manipulated busybodies.

I have given permission for your hired help to bring you to my location should you require more information.

Uncle

Harry wasn't sure what amused him more. That the most hated teacher had signed the letter 'uncle,' or the fact his ritual had caused Privet Drive to collapse. He grinned at the thought of catching Marge in the accident, but the death of Dudley deflated his amusement. Harry knew he'd be spending time talking his feelings over with those he trusted. Rereading the letter had Harry realising he needed to visit the Potions Master.

Wizard and elf popped outside an old and uncared for property, and the smell of a dirty river immediately assaulted Harry's nose. He blinked at the street he found himself on, not noticing Dobby knocking on the house's door as he realised where he now stood. Spinner's End, Cokeworth. His mother's childhood hometown.

"Not the type of residence you were expecting?" Snape's drawl brought Harry out of his thoughts, and he spun to face the open doorway and the dark-eyed man standing in it.

"I hadn't expected you to still be living here, Sir," Harry answered, truthfully. "I couldn't see me ever living on Privet Drive as an adult."

"Lily," Snape sighed, ignoring the revelation that Harry was aware of at least some of the man's childhood.

"That last year. She put everything she could about her family and what it was like growing up here. She wanted me to know who she was before the magical world."

"That sounds like her. Do come in, Aetius. Unless you enjoy looking like a fool on a doorstep?"

"Not especially, sir," Harry snarked, accepting the invitation. Dobby had vanished the moment he knocked on the door, leaving the two to their meeting. Snape led Harry into a small, well used kitchen. If he was to describe the place, it would be 'well used' followed by 'run-down.' Despite what Harry had said, he had a feeling the place was more a bolt hole for his teacher, and not his main place of residence. "The Dursleys are dead, then?"

"They are," Snape confirmed, taking a seat at the plain table and waving Harry into the other chair. A swish of a wand and the pair were soon plucking cups of tea out of the air. "I double-checked myself before sending the letter. It was how I knew about Petunia's sister-in-law."

"I hadn't planned that," Harry confessed. "But Dumbledore had screwed with mum's protections. I was hoping they would backlash on him."

"I believe they did that as well. Albus was not at his best this morning and revealed far more to me than he otherwise would have. You have him and the Ministry frantic."

"Because the Boy Who Lived is missing."

Snape hummed at the snarled response, silently agreeing to Harry's disdain for the moniker. "Did Lily speak of Bellatrix Black?"

"Not much. More about how Lady Narcissa was frantic about her sister getting chained to the Lestrange line," Harry paused, reviewing everything his mother had written about her correspondences with one of the fearsome Black sisters. Not for the first time, Harry wished he had some of the letters she referenced. "Their parents signed a binding contract when Lord Black was out of the country. Lord Arcturus was furious."

"Lord Augustine Lestrange was apparently an honourable man, as much as any Lestrange could be said to be so," Snape explained, not knowing that Harry was aware of more than most about the Lestrange line. Like the Peverells had secretly birthed House Bones, the Ebonstones had created the cadet Lestrange line. "His brother Caesar was one of the Dark Lord's very first Death Eaters. It is said that Caesar's prowess was nothing compared to his far older brother, and yet Augustine died in mysterious circumstances along with his son and daughter-in-law, leaving the Lordship to pass onto Caesar."

"Riddle's work," Harry knew, having seen the memory of the attack during the ritual. Unhelpful to the topic at hand, the Dark Lord's memories held nothing of Bellatrix Black. Riddle's first meeting with the infamous witch was after her marriage.

"The Blacks are known for breeding two types of people, those born to politics, like Lord Arcturus, and those born to war. Regulus Black was your godfather's young brother, and the only Black of my generation who was born to politics. Narcissa's masterful manipulations of High Society and the Wizengamot are all self-taught. She, like her sisters and Sirius, is born for combat. Everyone knew that should that quartet have joined the Dark Lord, he would have ruled the entire world before you were born. It would make perfect sense to force even one of those four to his side."

"But given the Blacks Pure-blood attitude, it's possible she went of her own accord," Harry counter-argued, getting a nod in return. The pair sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence as they sipped their teas. "I'll be sending a letter to Madame Bones to bring Dumbledore and the Minister to meet me at the Leaky Cauldron."

"And what will you say when they ask of your whereabouts?"

"I'll tell them the truth," Harry shrugged, the innocent look ruined by the growing smirk curling his lips. "I've been staying with the Rakepick sisters."

"...You're living with Patricia and Cassandra Rakepick?" Snape had frozen, his lips barely moving to ask the question.

"I am."

The man's lips twitched. Snape had just enough time to put his cup down before he threw his back in wild laughter. Harry continued to sip his own drink, enjoying breaking his teacher's mask.

"That is a memory I would dearly love to see."

"You might just get it, sir," Harry promised, finishing his drink before rising. "Thank you for the tea."

"You realise that your change in appearance will be noticed," Snape pointed out before Harry could leave.

"Overworked magical maturity," Harry admitted, wincing at the truth of the man's words. "Salazar said I'll be lucky if my puberty lasts two years with how quick my body is being pushed."

"People will guess the cause."

"Let them. Dumbledore shouldn't have stuck me with the Dursleys." He was about to call for Dobby when an idea struck him, and Harry spoke before he let it slip away. "If it's not overstepping, I would like to put you under my Houses' aegis and sponsor your right to take up the Prince name. As others should have done for you before now."

"Politics, Potter, politics," Snape sighed, reverting to Harry's surname to show just how much the offer had shaken him. "The Prince name is notoriously neutral, and even back then true neutrality wasn't the done thing. Should I refuse, you will no doubt claim you are doing it for her."

"As she would have wanted me to, sir. As she would have done herself."

"Get out of here, Brat. And don't forget that memory!"

Harry was laughing as he called for Dobby, the pair vanishing with a pop as Snape stood, ready to depart the home he hated. The Potions Master knew the boy would be the death of him.

.

.

OoOoO

.

.

Harry ended up claiming the same Leaky Cauldron room he had used earlier in the summer. He saw a slight suspicion in Tom's eyes when the man gave Harry to key, but the friendly old man made no sign to confirm anything.

He sent Dobby off with the letter to Madame Bones only when he had the room as he wanted and then slipped into a meditative trance to pass the time. Harry might have done the impossible the previous night by filtering Tom Riddle's memories during the ritual, but he refused to take anything to chance. He would spend as long as it took to recheck the nightmare-fuel memories for anything important, putting aside faces, facts, details, and magic, no matter how disturbing, for Salazar to check using the Room's projection Pensieve. There was too much at risk for him to be squeamish over the horrors the monster had committed.

A knock at the door brought him out of the trance. Harry felt Cadwaladr's mark over his heart warm up, the snake making sure he remembered he wasn't alone to face the three most politically powerful people in the country. Harry double-checked his Potter ring was visible before opening the door to come face-to-face with someone he wouldn't have given a second look if he to meet them on the street. Given he knew Dumbledore, and Madame Bones as the obvious female member of the trio, the portly little man wearing a lime green bowler could only be one other person.

"Won't you come in?" Harry offered, sharp eyes cutting to the sides where he felt more than saw more people.

"Thank you, Harry, my boy, thank you. It's a delight to finally meet you," Fudge rambled, walking into the room as though they were old friends. Dumbledore gave Harry a piercing look before nodding his thanks.

"Auror protection, heir Potter," Amelia explained, showing she had both caught his glances and the ring on his right pinky. "Nothing to worry about."

"Thank you for putting my mind at ease, Regent Bones, and thank you for coming," Harry kissed the back of her hand, slighting the other two, whom he hadn't even offered to shake hands with.

Although greying early, Amelia Bones was a bombshell who had no qualms in damaging anyone who saw her only for her looks. Lily's early journal rants had many complaints about the arrogance of ill-bred boys and their treatment of girls who developed early. And while they hadn't been friends given their age gap, Amelia Bones had been a very early developer who then took the younger girls under her wing to protect them from guys who wouldn't take no for an answer. Although Patricia had one of the largest busts he had seen in his young life – matched by his mother, something he constantly refused to think about – he couldn't be sure that Madame Bones wasn't their near equal. And from how Susan had looked on the Express back from Hogwarts, her niece was following in her footsteps.

"Why don't you all take a seat?" Harry waved to the chairs he had prepared, forcing any thoughts of bountiful breasts from his mind before it caused a physical reaction he couldn't hide. "And thank you for coming."

"I'm surprised you set a letter, my boy," Dumbledore told him after he took a seat. It was a leading statement, something Salazar had couched him on religiously in their time together, but Harry knew now wasn't the time for him to match the old man.

"A house collapsing in on itself is always news, Headmaster," Harry explained, being completely truthful. He had been curious at the reaction to the events on Privet Drive and had caught a BBC news report claiming weakened foundations. "And I received a pretty scathing letter telling me to get in touch with someone since the DMLE was investigating."

"I'm sorry to tell you that the Dursleys did not survive. They, and your uncle's sister, perished when your home collapsed. You are lucky you weren't there when it happened."

"Not my home. Never my home," Harry declared, his tone hardening just a fraction. He turned to Madame Bones while waving a hand at himself. "My magical maturity is putting me through an accelerated puberty. I think everyone here is aware of why that occurs."

Fudge paled, Dumbledore winced, and Amelia Bones scowled. Only the DMLE Head was brave enough to fill in the silence. "Indeed, heir Potter. And were they not dead, I would have opened an investigation for you."

"My thanks, Madame Bones," he nodded, using her job title rather than social one given her words. "I suppose this is the point you ask me where I was when it happened?"

"It would be."

"I was staying with friends of my mother. I got my Hogsmeade signature before getting out of that house as quickly as possible."

"Delightful, Harry, absolutely delightful," Fudge declared with a huge, and obviously fake smile. The man was more than happy to move on from Harry's childhood. Dumbledore looked to be trying to work out who he was talking about, but once again, Amelia was the one who asked the question.

"I confess, I wouldn't be classed as one of her friends, but I'd like to think I'd know who would be. At least by reputation. May I have their names for the paperwork?"

"Of course," Harry smiled, eyes shining with glee that was more like his father than mother. "Patricia and Cassandra Rakepick are the ones I'm grateful for taking me in. They've been telling me a lot about my mother."

"Rakepick?" Fudge squeaked, pulling off his bowler hat so he could nervously turn it. This time Dumbledore was the one who paled.

"Harry, I'm not sure-"

"I worked with Trish a few times before becoming DMLE Head. She's a good woman," Amelia interrupted the Headmaster, deliberately if the sparkle in her steel-grey eyes was any sign. "And her sister does her best to keep her under control."

Harry laughed, unable to deny the point. He was enjoying the conversation, and Madame Bones appeared to be humouring him in keeping the two men off balance. "Cassie's brilliant, but I don't think anyone can reign Patricia in."

"You do know them well," Amelia pointed out, getting a smirk in reply.

"Yes, well," Fudge coughed, clearly desperate to move on before they could continue talking about the second most infamous sisters of their country. "I'm afraid we've got other bad news for you, Harry. We believe your life might be in danger."

"What?"

"Have they spoken of Sirius Black?" Dumbledore answered, putting a heavy emphasis on 'they' to the level Harry had heard people used instead of saying Voldemort.

"No," and they hadn't. Harry realised after his meeting with Snape that he hadn't revealed his godfather's innocence to the sisters. From getting comfortable living with them, to getting back into his routine with Salazar, it kept slipping his mind. Especially as he didn't believe they could do anything. It was one of the reasons he had been planning on contacting the Malfoys once he gained his rings.

"He killed twelve Muggles along with a former friend of his, Peter Pettigrew," the Headmaster explained. It was obvious that neither the Minister nor Amelia wished to be the one to break the news. "But his biggest crime was being your parents' Secret Keeper. A Secret Keeper is-"

"The person who holds the Secret of a Fidelius Charm within their soul," Harry interrupted, his voice level despite the emotions he was feeling. "The spell can be unbeatable because the Secret Keeper is meant to be the most faithful to the one the Secret is about. There are few Betrayals greater than revealing a Secret to the protected's enemies.

"I read," he finished with a shrug. Apparently none of the adults had expected him to be aware of the spell. Or it could be my description of it, he mused.

"Quite so, Harry, quite so," Fudge nodded like a car's bobble head. "But...well...you see...Sirius Black along with another prisoner escaped Azkaban...and...well..."

"He escaped with his cousin, one Bellatrix Lestrange," Amelia filled in for the stuttering fool, bringing up one of the most infamous sisters of their country. Harry's eyes were glowing as his control over his emotions and magic slipped, and it had freaked the Minister out to see twin Avada lights staring him down. "We believe they might be after you, the one who defeated their master."

"Which is why you should stay here in the Cauldron, Harry," Dumbledore decided for the teen, only to get a glowing glare for his troubles.

"You want me to move out of the place warded by the woman Gringotts uses to teach their Curse-breakers to move into a pub that's open to foot traffic twenty-four hours?" Dumbledore had the sense to not reply, and Harry turned his attention back to the Minister. "I imagine you've upped the funding and manpower of the DMLE to help find them both."

Fudge hadn't, nor had he planned to, but the death-glare that was threatening to make him piss his pinstripe suit made him change his mind. He didn't want this Harry Potter after him should the boy not feel everything was being done to protect him. Harry didn't need Legilimency to pick up the gist of the man's thoughts.

"I'll be as careful as possible until Hogwarts starts up. What is the plan for when I am there?"

"Never fear, my boy, the Ministry will place its full contingent of Dementors around the school. Neither Black nor Lestrange will get anywhere near Hogwarts."

Amelia and Dumbledore shifted back moments before Harry's aura flared. The teen barely kept it from touching the trio, even as his eyes blazed like flames from what he heard. He knew of Dementors. Both Salazar and Sebastian had used them as a warning. People with a proclivity to the Mind Arts were like warriors using a sword without a hilt. They could protect themselves from outside influences to a greater degree than most, but anything that caused an internal mental issue had a far greater impact. Harry, with both the Black and Slytherin talents, could ignore Veela all day long as their allures created false desire, whereas Dementors forced the victims' minds to bring out their worst memories. A single Dementor could lock him inside his own mind if it caught him unawares, and the man in front of him was putting every single one the Ministry had quasi-control over near Hogwarts.

"I thank you for visiting me and telling me these things," Harry ground out, his chair creaking at the magical pressure building around him. Fudge squeaked some meaningless babble before running from the room. The other two stood, each reassessing the furious Harry. Dumbledore appeared to be ready to say something, but then thought better and left, leaving the teen alone with Amelia. With a mental pull hard enough to break steel, Harry forced his magic back under control and took her hand for a firm shake. "I apologise for that, Regent Bones. The information took me by surprise. Please tell your niece that I look forward to getting to know her better this year. She does Hufflepuff proud."

"I'll tell her, heir Potter. Take care of yourself and say hello to Trish and Cassie for me."

Harry saw her out of the room before hissing his ring's Portkey phrase. He had a Founder to warn and rant with.

.

.

OoOoO

.

.

Albus Dumbledore didn't leave to the Ministry, nor did he return to Hogwarts. Instead, the panicking aged wizard Apparated to a place few knew of, and even less had access to. Even so, he had to stand outside the cottage while the many deadly wards made sure he was who he appeared to be.

"What's got your goat, Albus?" came the gruff voice of Alastor Moody.

The cottage wasn't the Senior Master Auror's actual home. Even Albus didn't know where that property stood. Instead, Moody linked the cottage to his home through a Floo and a handful of security systems, making it easier for the man to travel there for any clandestine meeting. His more publicly known addresses were even more heavily protected, and Albus had known him to take up to five minutes to deactivate everything just to arrive at the property. Even worse, the question was another security layer, with a very specific and embarrassing answer required. "Nothing, Alastor. Abe stole them all."

'Mad-Eye' Moody stepped out of the cottage with his wand still drawn. The magical eye everyone believed his nickname referenced spun wildly as it checked to make sure Albus was the only person around. "You know I don't like people turning up unannounced, Albus."

"I want you to become Hogwarts' Head of Security," Albus explained out of the blue, getting a blink from the paranoid man.

"It doesn't have one."

"It will when you accept."

"I'm half-way to retirement, Albus. Once I get my spunky new protégé up to snuff, I'll be fully retired. What in blue blazes has got your beard all tangled up?"

"Harry Potter is living with Patricia Rakepick."

The electric blue false eye froze mid-spin before turning until it locked onto Albus' gaze, as though to judge his words. Finding whatever it was he was looking for, Moody spat on the ground and spun himself back into the cottage.

"Get your arse in here and tell me everything."

.

.

OoOoO

.

.

Amelia Bones was a complete professional as she made her way back to her office. No one watching the feared woman could tell she had come from a fascinating meeting with the Boy Who Lived, and she wanted it that way. She knew too well how full of spies the Ministry was. Spies for all sides of the political divide, and some who weren't even part of the Wizengamot. She knew some Ravenclaws still spoke to Filius Flitwick, passing on interesting things their old Head of House might want to know. She knew Pomona Sprout had her own network to make sure former Hufflepuffs were as looked after as possible by the corrupt system they lived in. Heck, Amelia herself had given the woman information when she could excuse herself for doing so. Puff loyalty and all that. She also knew that Albus Dumbledore's spy network either matched or bettered Lucius Malfoy's, and she couldn't afford to let either man know something was up.

Only when Amelia was in her office with all its security features activated did she take out the sliver of parchment Harry Potter had slipped her when saying goodbye. A quick scan showed only a Shrinking Charm, something she easily dispelled to reveal a note that would begin changing how she saw the world.

Regent Bones of the Ancient House of Bones, Ministry Head of the DMLE

I have access to my mother's journal-cum-grimoire. It details exactly who was and wasn't my parents Secret-Keeper. Sirius Black turned down that 'honour' for being the "obvious choice," and convinced my father to select another friend for the role. One Peter Pettigrew. While my mother was unhappy with the decision, it was more out of her belief in Sirius' strength and willingness to die for our protection rather than any suspicion against Pettigrew, and so she performed the Fidelius Charm to hide us.

She did not find out until too late that Pettigrew used a spell to cause his Secret notes to be in Sirius' handwriting. Alas, she believed that my father and Sirius would have seen it for a prank, rather than the betrayal it ultimately helped perpetrate.

Sirius Orion Black is my magically sworn godfather. Chosen by my mother, who demanded it to be so. Sirius Orion Black was magically taken in by House Potter, an act accepted by the then living Lord Arcturus III Black, and one that is still recognised by Potter Family Magic. Sirius Orion Black named me his blood and magical heir.

I know not what caused Sirius Black to be in Azkaban for the past twelve years. I do know he is my legal guardian as per my parents' wills. Wills I only know exist because of my mother's journal, as they have yet to be read. By order of Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore. I know not whether the man knows the truth, or sealed them in order to put me with my maternal relatives for some nebulous 'protection.'

As proof of my words, I summarise an entry from her journal. She once stayed behind after one of your classes teaching the lower girls how to protect themselves against unwanted attention. She confessed that she was embarrassed by her slow development and used a charm she found to find out her final bust size, and wanted your advice on dealing with "bloody great big melons that might be fun in the bedroom, but were a pain everywhere else."

Madame Bones, I, Harold James Potter, heir to House Peverell, Potter, and Black, call upon the ties of our blood and your duty to law and justice. While I know nothing to explain Bellatrix Lestrange's escape, my godfather is an innocent man. Help right the wrong done to my House and blood.

Yours,

Harold James Potter

Heir apparent, Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell

Heir apparent, Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter

Heir presumptive, Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

Amelia gaped at the message. It explained why the Boy Who Lived had been so emotional at the meeting. Fudge wouldn't have accepted the teen's word for Black's innocence, and the fact the only proof was written in Lily's journal that also doubled as a grimoire meant it was inadmissible as legal proof. No one would allow knowledge out of a grimoire to be used in a court of law. She wandlessly burnt the message once she memorised the words, and set about looking into how to clear Sirius Black's name.

.

.

OoOoO

.

.

Room

Salazar had been furious when Harry revealed the news. The conversation that followed had forced a change to their plans.

"There is a spell to repel those demonic creations," the Snake Lord had told Harry, lips curling back into a viscous snarl that revealed eye teeth elongating into fangs before he reigned the anger in. "A variation of the spell can even potentially kill them. Certainly damage them. And if they slip their Ministry leash as they are wont, you can officially claim yourself my heir to activate the ward I designed to repel them."

"Then why-"

"Riddle is out there, fully aware of the destruction of his Horcrux, and feeling the loss of his magic, Apprentice. A calculated gamble, but a gamble nonetheless. And one I would have not suggested had I known one of his chief general's escaped Azkaban. Dumbledore has increased his hold over our school, declaring everything that happens within the office a secret. I cannot even hint at things to aid you against his machinations. The Ministry is so out of control that the Minister wilfully puts the next generation of mages at risk 'to be doing something,' and either no one has the political power to destroy the man for even contemplating the idea, or someone with that power is using it to support him. And on top of all of this, my connections to Durmstrang and Beauxbatons have revealed this country's disgusting excuse for leadership is attempting to bring back the Tri-Wizard Tournament!"

Harry didn't ask what that was. The Room's air had thickened the deeper into the rant the Founder went, and Harry knew he was better off waiting until his ancestor pulled himself together. It didn't take the Lord of Magic long.

"It began as a friendly competition between the three schools, sometimes with another added if the trio felt it was worthy of their company." The venom dripping from Salazar's words made it obvious he saw the thing as an elitist event. "A chance to pit their best and brightest students against each other. An understandable goal, one I would have even been interested in if such a thing happened in our time. It was the magical version of a Lord's tourney; young, up-and-coming warriors ready to prove their worth in a controlled battle. Deaths might happen, but they were to be avoided as much as possible."

"Something changed," Harry guessed, getting a firm nod.

"The turn of the 15th century saw Beauxbatons suggest livening the event up by using the Goblet of Fire, rather than the Professors choosing who entered the Tournament. They claimed it was an ancient magical artefact that was completely unbiased. I tell you this, Harry, the Goblet came from nowhere. My father's bloodline helped rule magical Asia for thousands of years. Our human Houses have their roots all across Europe and Ancient Egypt. There was never a Goblet of Fire before that cursed object was presented by the Beauxbatons Headmistress."

"What did it do?"

"Oh, it picked the best and brightest," Salazar smirked. This time the look was cruel, giving Harry the image everyone believed of his ancestor. That of a deranged Dark Lord. "Whether it is as unbiased as claimed, I doubt, but it did its job. It picked those who were the future leaders of their generations and bound them to compete, or else have their magic ripped from them. They did not find this out until over a century after its introduction. And worse, the Beauxbatons Headmistress had also convinced her fellows to write up a magical contract codifying the Tournament forever. A contract bound not by those who signed it, but by the schools they represented. Hogwarts herself, along with Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, would kill anyone attempting to change the rules."

"They had to use the Goblet," Harry was horrified. The thought of something stripping him of his magic caused his heart to clench. But that was nothing compared to the thought of forcing Hogwarts, the first place he had ever called home, to kill its own Head should they try to keep their students safe from such an object.

"They did. The contract also detailed the structure of the Tournament. A minimum of three tasks, no maximum number, with each task 'supposedly' used to test magical ability, skills, intelligence, courage, or any combination of the four. Tasks mirroring the Labours of Heracles and other Heroes of old. Battling chimeras or dragons to the death, stealing objects from guardian man-killers, the rescuing of at risk hostages from a deadly environment, martial combat between champions with any spell allowed. The combination of threats is near endless and there is only one in my school who I would trust being able to survive it."

Harry didn't need to be a genius to know who his master meant. He was about to declare his refusal to participate in the deadly event, but froze when he realised he might not have a choice.

"You see it now," Salazar declared, taking on the air of deadly calm. "It matters not what you or I wish. An enemy only needs to get your name in the Goblet, and you would be Bound. Worse, a foolish child thinking to prank you could put you in the same spot. The threats to your life are multiplying, Harry, and that is what has me furious. Because, while I deride the triumvirate for their 'allowing' of other schools to enter the Tournament, a pattern emerged prior to the Tournament's cancellation. These invites coincided when another school had a potential leader among their student populous. A student with the charm, power, or both to influence the world. One who was their obvious champion."

"Assassinations," Harry gasped. Seeing the picture his mentor was painting.

"Not all died, but they all suffered from the event. And there has almost never been a happy legacy for those who survived the Tri-Wizard Tournament since they introduced the Goblet."

"What should I do?"

"Your meeting with the Malfoys has become far more important," Salazar warned him. "Far more political than even we had planned for. You need more trusted allies. I had hoped you could grow into this, Harry, but you are being circled by too many threats, with too many vultures ready to aid them in taking you down. You must be ready. The goal for this month was to get you prepared for finding and merging with your Animagus forms. I will add something to that plan. Something I was going to wait before teaching you."

Salazar closed his eyes and breathed. Despite not being in a physical body, the Founder's echo continued to use meditation to steady his mind. The room shimmered around them until they were standing on Hogwarts ground, and it was a clear sign of Slytherin's urgency that he did not have them walk there.

"I have been teaching you how to fight with a sword and dagger," Slytherin said, seamlessly slipping into his teaching role, despite his previous mood and the rage still storming beneath his words. "And I will teach you enough wand magic to wade through entire armies. I can even teach you to wield a staff should Magic direct you to using one. But all these things can be lost, stolen, or destroyed. Even unarmed fighting can be restricted. But there is one thing that is with us always, that will be there no matter the odds you face. Your magic."

The Founders' eyes opened, and his wand appeared in his hand. A swish caused the ground to ripple and an earthen wolf appearing by the man's side.

"This is a transfigured construct. Done via a spell usable on near enough any material, and totally under my command. For now. A powerful enough Finite could dispel it once I've released it. Or an enemy could even take control of it," a wave of Salazar's other hand caused the ground rippled like water, a basilisk rose from the distortions like a mockery of the Loch Ness Monster. Harry didn't have to be told this was something else. "This is my magic commanding the earth to take the form I desire. No Finite can dispel it, no mind can take it from me unless they are both my mental and magical superior. But I must constantly hold it under my control, and none of the elements enjoy being controlled."

The two constructs faded back into the ground. Harry knew that the difference in size and form was mere show. His mentor could have made it identical to the wolf if he had wanted. It was the magic behind them that was key.

"Elements," the Founder continued, smoothly. "Are not only the four that you are thinking of. The term is far broader in magic and covers most concepts of existence. Life, death, earth, mud, water, wind, snow, lighting, fire, smoke, shadows. The list is vast and awe-inspiring. There are many spells which can create or manipulate elements, but they are mere puppet strings. True elemental manipulation is slipping your magic and will inside them to direct them with your desire. To use a weak analogy, it is the difference between taking Polyjuice and being a Metamorphmagus. One will never feel comfortable as it is not your true body, the other is."

"I've not heard anyone talk about elemental magic," Harry pointed out. He had fallen into a sort of parade rest early in the lecture, and would keep standing for as long as the lesson lasted. It had become almost instinctive to do so. "It can't be a simple thing to master."

"Correct. The mage must understand the core of each element in order to fully gain control of it. Fire is ever changing, yet is also always the same, and it desires to aid and destroy in equal measure. Water is mutable, yet stubborn, refusing to shift from its form once it takes. A shortcut was found to aid mages in becoming elementals: binding them to our magic."

Harry frowned, already seeing a potential problem. "Does that influence us the same way our Animagus forms do?"

"Very good, Apprentice. It is not a drastic shift, and someone who has the mentality suited to fire can still bind ice or earth to them, if that is their desire. But there is a shift in the mage's magic and personality. And in binding an element to themselves, they make it that much harder to bind others. It was quickly found that the majority of mages could only master a maximum of two elements. Some mage's magic refuse to accept more than one bound to it, and some won't accept any."

"Majority?" Harry's eyebrow rose, immediately picking out the key turn of phrase.

"Animagi," Salazar chuckled. It always pleased the Founder when his Apprentice caught his wording. It was part of what being Slytherin was all about. "Animals are naturally inclined towards the basic elements, and many to more than one, and magical animals can have connection to the rest."

"Birds with the air, obviously. Maybe fast runners like horses or cheetahs, too," Harry threw out when Salazar paused. "Thestrals with death, dragons with fire."

"Excellent. And yes, fast runners are more connected to the air they speed through than the ground they race across. But notice I said 'master' not 'bind.' Even someone with many Animagus forms can only bind at most two elements to their magic. It is a fundamental law of Magic."

Salazar stopped the lesson and waited. Harry's eyes dimmed, showing he was using his Occlumency to assess everything he knew to find what his master was leading to. Riddle's memories were useless. True, the man had taken on his Parsel form, but he stopped there. The magic hadn't interested the arrogant mage, and he had used his form as more proof of his greatness. The teen realised that the current lesson had no answer; only when he drew on his knowledge of Animagi did he solve the problem. And felt like smacking himself around the head for missing the obvious.

"Merging with the animals!" He near-shouted, eyes widening as he put the pieces together. "Most Animagi carry something of their animal's nature and abilities into their human form. The Blood Magic method creates a full merging that allows for a lot more to get passed to the mage."

"Indeed," Salazar nodded. "I have been preparing you to merge your mind with your forms, but this is different. You will also need to merge your magic with them. It will be a bigger battle than you were preparing for, and will-"

"Come with a price," Harry finished, knowing Salazar wouldn't get mad at being interrupted, as long as it proved he knew the lesson.

"The first is simple, but no less a cost. While I would have done so anyway, I will need to help you craft new wands. Taking on your Animagus forms would be enough to shift your magic, but merging with their innate magic to gain their elemental alignments will make you entirely unsuited to your current wand as it is now."

Harry took out his holly wand. Harry's first true possession had proved to the young and scared boy he wielded magic that Hagrid had promised. He ran his thumb over the well-worn wood, feeling a comforting warmth beneath his touch, and sighed. Despite knowing he could refuse, he also knew he needed every edge he could find. He looked up to his ancestor and asked, "what else?"

"Binding elements is a very similar process to how Cadwaladr sinks into your magic," Sal's voice had taken on a sombre tone. A focus, especially a mage's first, was a deeply personal item, and the Lord of Magic would not have denigrated his descendant's choice to keep his wand. "And because of this, the elements will create marks upon the elemental's skin. I told you I believed your scar was from your form. I firmly believed that your scar would heal after you exercised Riddle's soul shard - in fact, it is healing. But if you do this, it would not surprise me if it became even more prominent. It is your form's signature, and such an animal would not take kindly to having a mark of its victory over its enemy taken away."

They both knew what his two dominant forms were, but Salazar preferred not so speak them aloud until after his merging ritual. The Founders had enough students whose meditations showed them one animal part of their soul, only for another to appear when they underwent the ritual. Salazar didn't believe it would happen to Harry, but the habit stuck. The teen in question ran his fingertips down the famous scar, and promptly felt his non-Parsel form react inside his mind, as though to prove his Master's thoughts.

Salazar waved a hand to cause an image to appear in the air, drawing Harry's attention back to the moment. The image was recognisable, despite the individual parts being different. A large flaming triangle, each side that of a snake eating the tail of the next, with an orb of water within, and a pillar of stone like a Roman column bisecting the orb.

"My other form is a Thestral, as you can see by the Hallows mark, and is how I mastered all the Peverell Family Magic despite Founding my own House. This covers my back unless I focus on hiding it. An Elemental's marks will always appear when they are using their power, but they can hide it at other times."

Harry had little choice. Not truly. The extended therapy sessions had made it so that Harry saw the lightning bolt scar more as proof of his mother's genius in beating Riddle rather than a sign of his parents' deaths. The news of the Tri-Wizard Tournament scared him, and he refused to let his appearance or connection to his holly wand hold him back from getting stronger. He had already been planning on merging with his Animagus forms, so taking the next step to merge with their magics wasn't a stretch. His mother had done everything she could so he could live, and he refused to see her suffering and planning go to waste.

.

.

OoOoO

.

.

17th August 1993 (1 year, 179 days diluted) – Room

It was the day of the new moon, one of the two points of transformation in the Luna cycle, and the moment of his Animagus ritual. Harry sat naked, blood-drawn runes covering his body, with more surrounding him on the stone floor. The Room had created a space that appeared to go on forever in all directions, including up. It was the closest to an infinite space the Room was capable of, and bare of anything except for Harry. Salazar had slipped back into the castle's wards in readiness to contain Harry should he lose control of himself.

He took one final breath and dived inside his mind, past his mindscape and mental protections, and deeper to find the mental world where his consciousness and subconsciousness met. For Harry, this took the form of a beautiful open meadow that had a mountain range on one side and a deep forest on the other. As it was also a representation of where his two mental halves met, and he was here to merge with his two dominant animal selves, the world was in chaos rather than its usual tranquil state.

The raging tempest made Harry feel like a gnat that had caught the attention of an angry god. Lightning flashed down all across the meadow, raining down faster than the resulting thunderclaps could keep up, to cause a never-ending explosion of furious sound. The black clouds swarmed above, more lightning dancing between them to illuminate the animal Harry was looking for.

A Thunderbird.

Phoenixes were creatures of the eternal Flame of Life. Lifeforms forever linked to the endless cycle of death and rebirth. It was why their tears had such healing properties, and why they could return from near-enough any deathly circumstance. But as they represented the start and end of the cycle of life, their cousins representing the power of the journey itself. The unrestrained power of the emotions of life, for all the good and bad that phrase meant.

Some Thunderbirds didn't live longer than the storms that birthed them. Some would gain a physical form and live well after their birthing storms had died out. The lifespan of a Thunderbird never mattered to the creatures. Living every second of their existence was their driving force. Where Phoenixes accepted death as part of the cycle, Thunderbirds literally raged against the dying of the light with every ounce of their being. Was it any wonder this was the power that Lily's ritual had awoken in Harry when all his mother wanted was for him to live?

Harry's problem was that his Thunderbird side had been awake ever since that night. His life with the Dursleys had made its rage at being caged that much worse. It represented every moment Harry wanted to lash out and break free of his chains, every urge to lay waste to the world for daring to cause him suffering. And given that he was being forced through puberty at an accelerated rate, it would be an adult creature rather than the usual adolescent version he should be facing.

The Thunderbird screamed, breaking his thoughts, the sound overshadowing the thunder claps as more lightning bolts scarred the landscape. The sky blazed, and Harry saw the bird's incorporeal outline. A hazy form that stretched for miles in every direction. A second giant flash had the Thunderbird's body take shape, and it screeched down at him in challenge. It refused to bow, even to the mind that had birthed it. The Thunderbird raced down to attack him, talons shining in the flashing sky. Harry flew up to meet the creature, willing his magic to infuse his mental representation. They were two stubborn titans racing together for a single bout fight to see who would come out on top.

Even as he flew towards the giant bird of prey, Harry pulled up his Mind Arts, shifting his thoughts into the cold hard logic that mastering Occlumency allowed. It was exactly as Salazar had described. He was using his Parsel form's nature and way of thinking to counter the Thunderbird's, and he would use the Thunderbird's raw emotions to break the basilisk down. That's if he survived.

The pair clashed. No magical combat ensued, nor physical altercation. The Thunderbird vanished into Harry's body and he screamed, his mental form flooded with the power of a tempest that had been raging since that terrible Halloween night. He screamed. In his mind and in the Room. His cells exploded with raw electricity.

He thought he heard Salazar shouting at him to focus. Lily's whisper of love. The barking laughter of Sirius Black. The proud boasting of James Potter. Voices. Emotions. Memories. They ripped through him, and he accepted it all. The good and bad. He had already relived his life. His mind was his own, and so were his emotions. Because, no matter how much the Thunderbird tried to drown him with its nature, there stood a single island rock at the centre of his emotional turmoil. A place both Sebastian and Salazar had said he would have when discussing his abilities.

Harry accepted everything the Thunderbird threw at him. He thought he was dying, and he was sure he was crying blood, but he refused to fight against the creature that represented himself in his most raw form. It takes two to tango, and the Thunderbird found Harry was unwilling to help feed the storm.

As the elemental bird and Harry mentally fused and its power infused into his magic, he realised the toughest part of the process had arrived. He opened eyes he didn't remember closing, and found himself back on the ground, facing the dark trees and the glowing yellow eyes within. Harry heard the basilisk's hiss above the storm. He didn't give himself a chance to think, launching himself at the trees just as the King of Serpents raced out of them.

.

.

OoOoO

.

.

19th August (1 yr, 203 days diluted)

The Malfoys were just finishing dinner when the sound of footsteps caught their ears. While Slytherins to the core, mealtimes were their one unchanging part of their schedule. Likewise, only one man had quasi-freedom to visit whenever he wished. As such, Lucius and Narcissa knew that Severus Snape was there for a reason, and had timed his arrival to the second.

The dour man walked with purpose through the family dinner room door. Draco's face shone with curiosity and delight at seeing his godfather, while the other two watched him as one would an approaching hippogriff. "Your presence has been requested this evening."

Two things jumped out about the moment, beyond the obvious of the man playing messenger. That the 'request' was from someone who expected the politically powerful family to agree, and that the envelope he held was being presented to Narcissa rather than Lord Malfoy.

"Who dares?" Lucius demanded with a sneer, disappointment oozing at his friend. "Really Severus, who dares to have you playing dog to fetch us?"

"Lucius," Narcissa's voice cut across her husband's. She hadn't taken her eyes off the letter still in the Potions Master's outstretched hand. The parchment was plain save for a flower at each corner, each alternating between two familiar eye colours. She forced her gaze away from it and up to Severus' face, her friend looking into one of those colours with far too much knowledge. "He knows."

"As far as I am aware, he knows everything," Severus confirmed.

"Narcissa?"

"Mother?"

They ignored the twin voices of the Malfoy males as she took the letter. Were she to open the letter, the words within would be meaningless. A highly encrypted string of letters and symbols that would ultimately be revealed to be nothing more than a piece of Hogwarts homework. Her family had taught her the protection before her first Express ride, but there was an additional piece of security that only another had known.

Rather than running her thumb across any of the flowers, Narcissa pressed the digit against the edge of the folded message and dragged it across. Blood quickly soaked into the parchment to cause it to unravel like a flower blooming to reveal the letter's actual words. The script was beautiful. She knew several Pure-bloods who would kill for the quillmanship the missive possessed. And while the language was more High Society that she ever got from the sender's mother, the tone and personality was one she was well familiar with. Her heart clenched at the memories it brought to the surface.

She sighed once she finished reading, burning the letter as she had done so many times before. The Lady Malfoy turned to look at her husband and son, and neither could not place the look in her dark blue eyes. "How much...?"

"If things are not smoothed over today, total annihilation. He has not told me why," Severus admitted, keeping his opinions to himself.

"Enough," Lucius growled, uneasy at the situation that was beyond what he was used to. "I don't know who this new master of yours is, Severus, or why you're-"

"I am attempting to stop my godson and his father from falling foul to the rage of a Lord of Magic, Lucius. Unless the existential threat to House Malfoy is not something you care about?"

Draco gaped, Lucius jerked back in his hair as though slapped, and Narcissa closed her eyes in defeat. "He has gone further than she ever did."

"She wouldn't even be able to see him."

"We have been called to a House meeting under the Aegis of Neutrality," she revealed, standing smoothly from the table. "Get changed into something fit for Merlin's Redoubt. And Draco, don't dawdle."

The Lady Malfoy stalked from the room with her husband trailing after her, no doubt desperate for some type of information. Draco raced from the room, having heard that tone in his mother's voice only a few times before. Severus decided to sit and sample some of the remaining dinner while he waited. It was the least everyone owed him for doing this.

Snape polished off a delightful crème brûlée when a house-elf told him the Malfoys were ready. He met them at the manor's main Floo. Changing clothes had allowed Lucius to regain his composure, while Narcissa was giving their son the same look countless parents had in the past. Behave.

Narcissa motioned for her friend to lead the way and steeled herself for what was to come. Lucius hadn't asked many questions when they were getting ready. The shock of a Lord of Magic appearing after so long became drowned out by the fear of one coming for his family. That the meeting was in the famous Merlin's Redoubt was a promising start as far as the Malfoys were concerned.

The place was as important to their society as Hogwarts was. A place of legal and social neutrality that was a law all on its own. The Dark Lord himself could have stepped into the Redoubt for a cup of tea, and no one would have tried to stop him or arrest him. Should any have tried, including Albus Dumbledore, then they would have instantly become social pariahs. The restaurant had multiple floors of meeting rooms, each having aided in the signing of many peace treaties between warring Houses. It was the only place in the entire country where deadly enemies could meet with the chance to talk through their problems.

The Aegis of Neutrality was a magical ward version of the Redoubt's promise. A powerful spell that enchanted an area so that all who freely entered had to keep their spells contained, or suffer for the offence. While it was created for those who couldn't get to the Redoubt, it also came with the extra security in that none could speak of what went on beneath the Aegis without the others being alert to the breach.

As Severus led their party through the busy ground floor, Narcissa couldn't stop herself from once more glancing at her son. The boy had inherited the Black temper and had yet to see it as a negative. She only hoped she still had a family at the end of the meeting. They reached the back of the restaurant and a part of the wall that was slightly discoloured. The magic of the Redoubt meant only those who worked there could access the floors above, with the portal being the only other means of getting to the rooms. And one had to speak whatever word was used to link the portal to the desired room for the connection to be made. The Redoubt's security included a muffled area around the portal, as well as changing the connecting word after every time a room was in use.

Narcissa didn't blink at the familiar red hair that opened the door, though she felt Lucius twitch at the sight of Patricia Rakepick. She was surprised when she stepped into the room to find a familiar family waiting for them.

Andromeda Tonks nee Black was tall, black-haired, and purple-eyed. Narcissa would bet a large amount of Galleons that the main reason someone had yet accosted her in mistake for their escaped older sister was more down to the fear that the mere thought of Bellatrix brought out in people. Although the middle Black Sister wearing Healer's robes might have helped. Her daughter Nymphadora was doing the family name proud by being a full Metamorphmagus and in her final year as an Auror trainee. Rumour had it Andi's girl, currently with vivid, short purple hair, brown eyes, and a more slender and athletic bust than her mother, was being mentored by the legendary, if highly erratic and paranoid, Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody. Her sister's husband was also doing well with himself, having forged a strong Law Firm that had enough political backing to allow the blond with a noticeable waist to go toe-to-toe with the older and more prestigious firms, and even win as often as not.

The widening of Andi's eyes caught the attention of the man she was speaking to, but Narcissa suspected he had known they were there. She knew he had when he turned with a smirk she had seen on two aggravating Gryffindor pranksters. "Lady Narcissa, a joy to see you!"

Narcissa didn't know what had happened to the Boy-Who-Lived, but it was obvious to a blind person something had. He had drastically grown up and out in the short time since she briefly caught sight of him when picking Draco up from Platform 9¾.

He now looked like a young man who would be finishing his OWLs, if not NEWTs, and the dragonhide boots brought the 'boy's' height to a few inches under her six-foot frame. His clothes were expensive and exquisite, almost certainly bought from some of the same places she shopped. Places where you were never told the total price, even when going on a shopping spree, but were – sometimes literally – cut-throat with being paid in full, and he moved like he was born to wear them. That is, he moved like he was a born and raised Black. His black hair sucked in the torchlight, and was braided and tied back with a leather thong in the manner Lords and their heirs were supposed to. For all of Lucius' bluster over their loss of traditions, he had waved her words away when it came to their son's hair, letting Draco use modern gel to contain his long locks. He had replaced the large glasses she had seen him wear with far smaller, tinted versions, but she could still see the powerful green eyes she knew from her Hogwarts days.

Yet the most striking change wasn't the growth, the clothing, nor even the power that Narcissa could feel contained beneath the heir's skin – she'd obviously caught sight of the ring on his right pinky, and prayed to Morgana that her husband and her son weren't blind enough to miss it. Instead, it was the dramatic change in the famous scar.

The 'lightning bolt scar' had always been a rune. Narcissa had known it before she ever set eyes on the boy at Platform 9¾s, and knew it after she saw the then boy there. Although she supposed she could forgive the unwashed masses for their ignorance. The Younger Futhark Sol rune (Sigel in the Anglo-Saxon language) looked somewhat like a childish lightning bolt. If one was half-blind, drunk, and squinted. The only accurate way of drawing the rune, and how it had so obviously been etched into the boy's temple, was a mirrored capital 'N' with the left arm lifted half-way up the length of the right arm. The Elder Futhark Sowilo versions – either a sideway, eastern facing jagged capital 'M,' or a 40 degree upward tilted reverse 'Z' – looked far more 'lightning bolt' like. Despite all of this knowledge being easily accessible, no one had seemed to put things together. A disappointing proof of the public's lack of intelligence for the youngest Black Sister.

Now though? Now the 'scar' spread from the young man's temple down to his jaw in a collection of interlocking and alternating versions of the rune. The lightning pattern shimmered in the light, seeming to glow from within, and the heir appeared to carry the more prominent marking with far more ease than he had the angry red original. She knew what the mark had become, even though she didn't know why it had changed. A mark of Power.

Should Narcissa have counted the runes, she would have found that Harry had a combined seventeen Sowilo and Sol runes marking Harry's skin. Thirteen versions of the Sowilo for each year he had lived containing his Thunderbird form, and five Sol for each time he had faced Riddle and either won or survived. It had been his form's explanation of its mark that had Harry chosen not to hide it. The mark was as much a display of Lily's power, genius, and love for her son, as it was a showing of his and his form's victory over their enemy.

Harry swept up Narcissa's hand to kiss the knuckle, his words breaking the Black witch from her assessment. "I was about to inform your sister of the fabulous news. She was never been officially banished from House Black. The two of you can reconnect after all these years."

For the woman who had grown up loved and protected by her two older sisters, Narcissa's heart raced at the information. She didn't doubt Potter for an instant, though she was about to ask him how he knew this. And that was when her son opened his mouth, and her fears about her family's survival returned.

"What the hell are you doing here, Potter? Shouldn't you be hiding out in case Black or Lestrange get you?"

The youngest blond sneered, only for it to wilt at the death glares his parents sent him. Harry's hand raised to hold back whatever Lucius was about to snarl, and the room filled with the pressure of Potter's magic.

"It's fine, Lord Malfoy," Harry's voice took on a silky tone that had both men carrying the Dark Mark shiver. "After all, this is the same boy who was there when they found the Hogwarts caretaker's cat hanging from a hallway's rafters, believed dead, and with words written in blood on the wall declaring all enemies of 'the heir' to beware. And in that packed corridor, surrounded by many potential enemies, he proudly declared that all Mudbloods would be next."

The narrowed eyes of the group were their own weight pressing down on Draco, causing the boy to hunch his shoulders, but it was the deadly glare from his nemesis that had his skin paling. He hadn't noticed how tall nor how powerful Potter had become since the end of the year. Especially as the Gryffindor moved closer.

"He is the same boy who called a first-generation witch a Mudblood in front of the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams, after she rightly pointed out he had bought his way onto the team. Who uses his godfather's power as Head of Slytherin House to get away with abusing others, including his fellow snakes. Who constantly declares his father will hear of any disrespect, real or imaginary, as though Lord Malfoy is a slave who jumps the moment his son clicks his fingers. Again, including when dealing with his fellow Slytherins."

By now, the Malfoy parents were fuming at their son, while Severus Snape's intense glare showed his own anger. He didn't doubt Lily's boy's information, not when he was aware of the brat's mentor. While he heavily favoured his snakes, and didn't mind tweaking the rules for his godson now and then, he didn't appreciate being used as a tool for the boy's ascent through the House's ranks. If Draco was on his way to becoming the King of Slytherin through the achievements of being born to Lucius and the House's Head's godson, then the boy didn't deserve to be near the title.

"Do you think the Blacks had the reputation they did by riding off their history?" Harry pushed, staring the blond down. It was a near textbook destruction of Draco's reputation, and he said every word in a smooth, chilling tone. "Or did each generation prove that they were worthy to carry the name Black? Speak your mind, Draco. He who grinds the names Black and Malfoy into the dirt with every arrogant, dishonourable, and childish act he performs within Hogwarts' walls. He who challenged me to a midnight Honour Duel our second week into our first year and didn't bother to show. Tell me what you really think."

Narcissa was a doting mother who wasn't blind to her son's flaws. She might not have known how far he had fallen in his actions, but she wasn't really surprised at hearing them laid out. Her son had his father's arrogance and the Black's temper, but neither the former's ability to navigate political and social situations, nor the latter's viciousness to put his wand where his mouth was. And that was why it shocked her when she saw him reach for his wand, the embarrassment having become far too large to handle. She hadn't blinked, and yet she still almost missed Potter's arm striking out to grip her son's wrist to keep his wand from being drawn. The smooth, venomous voice changed to that of barely controlled anger as Draco cried out from Potter's iron grasp.

"This meeting is in Merlin's Redoubt under an Aegis of Neutrality, and you would break both because I told the truth of your behaviour? You would destroy your parents' honour out of childish pride?"

A loud hiss broke the tension, causing all bar the two students to look at the furthest corner of the conference room. Out of the shadows came a giant, vivid red snake of a species none could name, and each adult took a step back as it continued to hiss. Draco's skin had gone near see-through from fear, both at the realisation of what he had almost done, and the fury he saw within Potter's gaze. The steel fingers slowly released his bruised wrist, and the man-boy stepped back, clearly calming as the snake spoke to him.

"Everyone, meet my familiar Cadwaladr," Harry said, turning from Draco with a smooth spin. He walked over to the long table to claim the top seat, brushing fingers over the snake's head with a wordless 'thank you' as he passed it. The seven-foot serpent followed its master and curled beside the chair for easy reach.

Edward 'Ted' and his daughter Nymphadora (Don't-Call-Me-That) Tonks shared a look and wondered the same thing. What the actual fuck? Narcissa and Andromeda nee Black shared a look and thought of the same man. Lord Arcturus III. Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, experienced Death Eaters, shared a look and thought the same thing. The Dark Lord.

Draco Malfoy kept looking at the door and wondered if it was too late to run. Patricia Rakepick just wanted to laugh at the chaos the kid had caused.

"Sit, sit, please," Harry waved them into the seats, acting like the previous loss of temper hadn't happened. "I consider everyone here to be my extended family, or my extended family's family. And we have a lot to discuss."

"I would very much like to know what you meant by not being thrown out of the family," Andromeda announced, taking the seat at the foot of the table to declare her thoughts on the meeting.

Her husband and daughter took the chairs to her immediate left and right, while Severus took the chair on Harry's left rather than right only because he couldn't bring himself to be near that blasted snake. Let Rakepick have that honour. Interestingly enough, both Lucius and Draco sat next to Severus, meaning Draco was beside his cousin, while Narcissa took the chair opposite her husband, giving her a clear view of her son to glare him into silence.

"Andromeda, daughter of Cygnus, son of Pollux, cousin of Arcturus III," Harry said, laying out the bloodline for all. "The marriage contract you skipped out on to marry your husband was something your parents had pushed for, not the House's Lord. While the breech might have been embarrassing, your parents would have had to appeal to Lord Black to have you Banished from the family."

"Which they did," she snapped.

"They appealed to its acting Lord, Orion Black," Harry corrected with a shake of the head, bringing the sisters up short. "Your father's cousin and brother-in-law. As you know, only the true Lord Black has such power, and Orion's father, Arcturus III, did not do what any of that generation demanded. Just as he refused to do so for his grandson Sirius."

"But then, why...?" Andromeda's face appeared to be made of granite, but her eyes and soft voice told the truth and finished the question.

"Because that generation and yours had already drawn the battle lines in the Blood War. Lord Arcturus felt the pseudo-Banishment would keep you relatively safe as the rest of the family dragged the House into chaos. And while Lord Arcturus didn't know how bad it would get, he didn't trust the new Lord fighting for 'Pure-blood rights.' After all, he had grown up during Grindelwald's rise, and could easily see the similarities between what happened in his youth and then. And then the worst happened. That very threat he was hoping to protect you from cursed him."

"The Dark Lord cursed Lord Black?" Narcissa snarled, eyes ablaze with fury that created a small corona around the orbs. She pierced her husband with the death glare, and the man had the sensibility to cringe. "Did you know? Did you, Lucius?"

"I swear, Cissa, I didn't," the blonde pleaded, words bursting with truth. "I would have told you!"

"Lord Arcturus had told the man that he would put the full force of House Black's power behind him and his movement only when everyone in the family supported him," Harry continued only when Narcissa had turned her gaze back to him. He was only aware of the details from Riddle's memories, as any evidence was for the general outline of what he was telling the group. "But the man hadn't understood what it meant to be a Black to those true to the House. Lucretia Prewett's twins fought against the Death Eaters, Charis Crouch's grandson might secretly have sided with him, but the boy's father was leading the DMLE against the Death Eaters. Dorea Potter and her son were staunchly against his terrorist ways, a son who fought alongside a non-Banished Sirius Black. And then there was you, Andromeda. A woman who remained neutral in the entire conflict. As you can imagine, the monster tearing our society apart didn't take this realisation lightly.

"And despite that Halloween happening, he was far too sick to retake the role of a Lord for real," Harry sighed, leaning back in the chair. His fingers drew circles behind Cadwaladr's eye in the way the snake enjoyed. The history lesson fascinated the group, and they hung on his every word. "Arcturus decided that his will reading would reveal the truth."

"It was never read," Lucius spoke up, telling those who didn't know. Ted Tonks had taken his wife's hand in his own, and the spouses were holding on to each other for dear life. While Andromeda had come to accept the loss of her name, to know her parents hadn't been successful in taking it away had pulled the world from beneath her feet. "Gringotts have always claimed that the Ministry were denying beneficiaries the right to attend the reading."

"And that is because they illegally incarcerated Lord Black's heir in Azkaban, as he was not my family's Secret-Keeper."

It didn't take the Blacks long to work out the meaning of Harry's words. He'd had to tell the Rakepick sisters earlier in the week. And then vanish while both set about trying to destroy their home in a rage. Even now, Patricia's hands clenched tight enough that he smelt blood from how deep her nails pressed into her palms.

"Heir Potter, is this something you suspect, or something you know?" The Law-Wizard asked, professional ethics taking over before Ted even realised he was speaking.

"Proof within a family grimoire, I'm afraid, Mr Tonks," Harry answered, ruefully smiling at the winces at that news. "But I believe there is also proof in Lord Arcturus' will given Azkaban inmates have attended to will readings in the past."

Which was true. Harry had asked the goblins how that was possible, and had been told that the prisoners were stunned, tossed through a Floo, chained up with goblin guards surrounding them in a private area of the reading room, and then stunned again at the end of the reading. The goblins were in a strange legal situation, able to explain all the reasons Sirius could and should have been allowed out for the reading, but could not explain why his presence was a required part of the process.

"Amelia Bones is looking into both Blacks," Lucius spoke up, catching everyone's attention with how he referenced the missing Black sister. "Fudge and Dumbledore have worked together to declare their trials National Secrets."

"I passed Madame Bones a note telling her Sirius was innocent," Harry revealed. "And told her I had no proof either way for Bellatrix."

"The Lestrange brothers are dead."

"Killed when the escape happened," Snape added into the shocked silence. He hadn't told the brat this in their Cokeworth meeting, as it hadn't seemed important. It was when the Prophet's reports had no talk of the brothers' murder that he questioned it. "I only know because Dumbledore let it slip. He even attempted to get me to swear a Vow not to reveal it."

"And I only know through using a Pensieve memory of a meeting with the Minister," Lucius explained, a perfectly styled eyebrow raising at the secrecy. That he was using the memory to check any important documents lying around the room went unsaid.

"Bella's contract was written too quickly after you left," Narcissa told her sister, speaking her racing thoughts aloud. Her gaze cut to Harry when she finished it. "And it was signed with her marriage happening when Lord Black was tied up in Europe, unable to return until after it was over."

"A Subjugation Contract?" Harry offered, disgusted at the thought. Even in the modern era, Houses still used such things for wilful children, but they were highly regulated. A badly written version could make someone a slave, while a 'properly' written one would keep the wild child from dishonouring either House. Harry's Thunderbird screeched in his mind at being chained in such a way.

"Maybe not," Andromeda mused, eyeing the lawyer in the family. "Bella was deep into the Dark Arts, and she wasn't a saint. Out of all of us, it was she and Sirius who loved the rush of battle the most. She was always pro-Pure-blood supremacy, but she was never the crazed weapon she became."

"A limited version of a Subjugation Contract could do it," Ted admitted, carefully. He took his time, considering everything his wife had told him of her family. "Enough to amplify the traits her husband most desired. And if Rodolphus Lestrange was a staunch believer-"

"He was," Lucius admitted, not blinking at talking to the man whose blood status he sneered at. Draco's jaw dropped at his father's attitude, while Nymphadora's jaw was only a few seconds behind. "Caesar Lestrange was one of the first Death Eaters and raised his sons to be blind worshippers of the Dark Lord."

"Wait, are you saying Aunt Bella is innocent?" The trainee Auror barely kept herself from screeching. All those who knew the woman in question shook their heads.

"Not innocent, dear," Andromeda corrected. "But not completely acting of her own choice."

"And if there is one thing the Blacks are notorious for, it's that they loathe being controlled by anyone." No one even blinked at Harry's description of the infamous family. They all knew it was the most polite way of saying it, and it could explain Bellatrix killing her husband and brother-in-law. She saw the opening for freedom and took it.

"I don't feel comfortable doing anything about her," Ted admitted, getting his hand squeezed by his wife in understanding. "But I can look at helping with Sirius' case. I've already heard enough irregularities to get the ball rolling. But you may need to give an Oath that the grimoire says what you're telling us it does."

"I have no problem with that," Harry immediately accepted, only to sigh. "I'm not surprised Dumbledore is helping hide the trial transcripts."

"Why?" Nymphadora demanded, horrified by what she was hearing. Her hair continued to cycle through colours as it had been since the meeting's start.

A glance at Snape, who gave the tiniest of nods, and Harry revealed the truth. "Because the story of how my parents got together is an outright lie. The truth of the life of Lily Evans is radically different from what almost everyone believes.

"While born to non-Magical parents, Lily came into Hogwarts knowing plenty of the world she was about to experience. I would say she was more a Half-blood in understanding given her best friend was a Half-blood who explained a lot of this world. The first strange thing happened as soon as the Sorting Hat was placed on her head." Harry looked around the room, taking in the reactions of those around the table. Some knew the story and were mirroring his wandering gaze, some looked curious, and Draco couldn't hide his boredom. Although Harry had to give the boy credit, he wasn't sneering. "It apologised for not being able to put her in the House that her legacy demanded he should. The only thing the ancient artefact could do was put her in the House that allowed her to live the longest."

Andromeda frowned and took a long look at Harry's appearance for the first time. It took her staring deep into his eyes, the intense glow muted by his glasses, that she finally saw it. The middle Black Sister gasped, hand covering her mouth in awe. Purple eyes cut to her sister, who was smirking at her.

"Exactly, Mrs Tonks. The Hat denied Lily Evans, the perceived Muggle-born, the 'House of her eyes.' A line it said deliberately to stoke my mother's curiosity. It took until her second year for my mother to brew the potion needed to reveal the truth. A truth Lady Narcissa had realised not long after finally taking notice of the Gryffindor one of her younger snakes was friends with."

"Aunt Cissa, dear," the woman who had been there for his mother said, reaching across to take his hand. They shared a look that spoke of a shared history, even if that was their connection to the same woman.

"Of course, godmother," Harry smiled, shocking those who didn't know. He let her hand go to return to the subject. He couldn't help sending a wicked smirk at his school rival. "My mother found out what the Blacks still remembered. That just because you're a Parselmouth and declare yourself Salazar's heir, even if you are related to the man, it doesn't mean it's true. To be a Slytherin requires the Slytherin Family Magic. Shown by his unique eye colour. That's right, Draco, the enemies of the true heir really do need to beware."

He raised his hand to show the Slytherin heir ring, destroying the worldview of half those sitting there. The smirk vanished, and the most politically powerful teen in the country moved on to describe how Narcissa and Sirius took Lily under their wing, the fears of the family at the manipulation of James Potter by Albus Dumbledore, and the growing relationship between Lily and Sirius. The mind diddling the Headmaster perpetrated on those in the love triangle, and how hard the man had pushed the James and Lily pairing, horrified the Tonkses. Harry didn't mention Lily's dreams, nor the details of the Potters' marriage. He only described his mother as 'resigned' to the marriage after the suspicious deaths of the elder Potters, something that brought furious snarls from the two Black women.

Ted Tonks was already shaking his head before Harry's tale was over. "You might get away with an Oath on Sirius' innocence, but you'd never get Dumbledore in front of the Wizengamot if this is all from Lily's grimoire."

"I know. But there is another issue besides Sirius' innocence that this leads to. Lord Arcturus died in 1991. Sirius has less than a year to take up the mantle of Lord Black before it moves on to the heir presumptive-"

"That won't be a problem," Lucius preened, and Draco puffed up at the news, causing Narcissa to wince and Snape to pinch his nose at their reactions. Harry leaned across the table, once again showing his signet ring.

"The heir presumptive who is Sirius' blood-adopted heir," the Boy Who Lived snarled, willing the Slytherin ring to morph into its Black mirror, causing both Malfoy men to pale. Draco's skin turned red in anger, but Harry's follow up cut the pompous peacock off. "And let me be very clear here, Lucius. Should I die in mysterious circumstances before either my godfather or myself claims the Lordship, a contract will activate. My family's considerable wealth will be used to not only kill you, your son, and any other children you may have hidden away, but also every remaining Malfoy on the continent. Kill me for the title of Lord Black, and I'll fucking end your House."

No one doubted him. This wasn't the calm manipulator who cut down Draco earlier, or the exhausted orphan who revealed his entire life as a lie. This was a young man ready to bathe the world in blood as a death message to someone he considered an enemy. The magical pressure pushing down on the group, and the way his scar sparked, made it obvious how serious he was.

Patricia put a calming hand on his shoulder, speaking for the first time. "Easy kid, remember to breathe."

Harry closed his eyes and nodded, forcing himself until control despite everything in him wanting to rip Lucius apart. It was just over two weeks his time since he merged with his Animagus forms, and the merging hadn't yet settled. Salazar had warned him he would be more sensitive to magic until it had, but neither had expected to have a violent reaction to sensing Riddle's magic. All three parts of Harry's psyche saw the man as his enemy, and his hyper aware senses were screaming at being around two Dark Marks. Both animals wanted to slaughter Snape and Malfoy senior as a message to Riddle.

"Did you know?" He asked, opening his eyes only when he felt he was back in control. "Did you know when you gave an eleven-year-old girl that book what it would do? What it was?"

Lucius looked into the eyes glowing with the fury of the Killing Curse and knew the wrong answer would mean his life. He didn't even consider lying. "Not properly. I knew it was extremely Dark, and I knew it would cause problems at Hogwarts."

"Why did you do it?"

"I had to," the man confessed, unable to look away from the lethal gaze. The world faded away, leaving only the two of them and the dangerous conversation. "No matter where I hid it or how, the blasted thing was always dripping in magic that escaped my containments. Draco almost got to it three times before I realised it wanted to be found. I knew I couldn't keep it hidden with Weasley's Merlin-damned raids happening. I only planned on moving it to a different property, but then I wrote it in and-"

"And it wrote back, giving you the idea of being planted at Hogwarts," Harry sighed, breaking the man's gaze to lean back. He had just performed a pinnacle of Mind Arts tricks, a version of Legilimency that mirrored a Veela's allure that could get someone to speak when they otherwise wouldn't. Harry wasn't perfect at it, but he felt Lucius' desire to tell someone, and the meetings many layers of security and privacy helped give him the push.

"What wrote back?" Snape and Patricia both demanded only a second ahead of the two sisters. All four knew enough about the Dark Arts to know whatever Lucius had been talking about was extremely dangerous. Harry mentally winced, remembering how he hadn't gone into too many details with Patricia about the diary.

"What almost ensnared my son, Lucius?" Narcissa followed up, her mother's fury rising. It was Harry who answered. A reply that horrified those who recognised the word he used.

"A Horcrux."

Chaos erupted.

Snape snarled, lips curving with utter disgust at the term, while Andromeda jerked back in her chair in absolute horror, looking like she was trying not to be sick. Patricia's head snapped around to face Harry, but his pseudo-guardian didn't have a chance to speak. Not with Narcissa's reaction taking centre stage.

"YOU ALMOST GOT MY SON POSSESSED BY A HORCRUX?" The Pure-blood woman who was famed for her control and poise screamed. She rose, almost knocking her chair against the wall in her fury, and pointed her glowing wand at her husband's heart.

"I didn't know!" Lucius pleaded, his palms open and up in desperation to hold back his wife's magic. Draco was shrinking back away from his father in horror. The boy might not understand, but he was smart enough to know the man he glorified had almost risked his life. "I swear to you, Cissa, I didn't know what it was. I don't even know what a Horcrux is!"

Patricia stepped into the irate woman's personal space, showing a familiarity with her body that didn't surprise Harry. Arms wrapped around Narcissa's trembling form, and the Curse-breaker gingerly moved the wand away from its target. Only Harry heard the whispers used to calm the Black Sister, but he gave the pair their privacy. He turned to Andromeda. "You know what it is?"

"All Blacks do."

"I suppose he told you about them?" Snape queried, getting a curt nod back.

"I don't know what they are, but they sound really bad," Nymphadora said, her hair returning to its bright colour after having gone white at her aunt's rage. "Why do you know about them, mum?"

"Because they're abominations," Andromeda told her daughter. The same daughter kept glancing at her now sitting aunt as though she had become Harry's snake, ready to strike. "A Horcrux is a disgusting attempt to achieve immortality. You must mutilate your mind, your soul, and your magic to create a Horcrux. It's rumoured that the first Dementors were victims forced to create Horcruxes until they ceased being human."

"The Dark Lord created a Horcrux," Narcissa appeared dazed, her eyes glazed over as she contained her anger. "No wonder he was a monster by the end."

"That would be because he wanted to make six," Harry said, his voice causal despite how utterly horrifying the subject was. "He'd already made five by that night."

Andromeda turned from the table to be violently sick. Narcissa wobbled dangerous in her chair, and Lucius actually Apparated across the table to get to his wife before she could faint. Even Snape appeared shaken to his core, while Patricia was glaring at Harry. "How much do you know?"

"That just the first four actually work as anchors, and that any more are 'merely' soul echoes," Harry leaned close to his second godmother, but everyone else heard his words. "That making more causes fractures to the soul. That my mother's ritual destroy his body to leave his fractured soul hovering in my nursery. That Albus Dumbledore took one look at my scar and immediately came to a very wrong conclusion."

"There was a soul shard behind your scar," she whispered, eyes wide in horror. Everyone else matched her reaction.

"Hence this," he told her, absently waving at his shimmering mark. "I took his knowledge and even some of his power while kicking it out of my head. But you know what that means. Especially as I destroyed the one Lucius had."

"The Dark Lord knows," Snape's tight, dry voice cut through the tension of the pair's starting match. "He knows one has been destroyed, and he knows-"

"Knows that I ripped knowledge and power from his bodiless form? Yes, he does."

"You stole You-Know-Who's magic?" Nymphadora squeaked. "You-Know-Who's still out there?"

"The Dark Lord is going to return?" Lucius asked, aghast at the thought, subconsciously pulling his wife closer while glancing over at the scared Draco. "I can't let that monster have my son."

"Yes, yes, and yes," Harry confirmed. This time, his gaze held no malice when it turned to Lord Malfoy. "You and I are never going to fully see eye-to-eye. We see the world too differently. But I know we are at risk from non-Magicals, and I hate that we're losing our traditions. The first-generation mages need to be welcomed and shown why this is their world, rather than forced back to the one they came from, but they also don't have the right to change us to match what they want to."

"You're talking about a third side," Lucius declared. The man was a politician first and foremost, and his instincts rose at Potter's words.

"You've heard my story. I'm going to destroy Dumbledore completely, but the monster who killed my parents isn't the answer either.

"I only joined him because he declared himself the heir of Slytherin."

"I know," Harry agreed. "Just like I know you did your best to only be the money and Ministry man," the blond subtly nodded, knowing Harry had deliberately left out what else Lucius had done under the Dark Lord's command. He hadn't missed the mention of taking memories. "I can remove the Mark before you leave today."

Lucius jolted, as did Snape. The Boy Who Lived was ignoring the glaring Patricia who obviously wanted to get back to the Horcruxes. Lord Malfoy was very careful in his reply. "If you could do that, and word got out that there was a true Slytherin heir walking around..."

"Oaths would have to be made," Harry declared. He might have Riddle's memories, he might even know what each Death Eater had done, but that was then, and this was now. The law had allowed them to be free for twelve years. The deal was one Harry and Salazar had discussed. It left a foul taste in the teen's mouth, but he knew it was needed. "And I won't deal with any who are fanatics."

Lucius nodded, the message received. No one who revelled in the torture, rapes, and murders. "Many wondered if your victory that night wasn't a different sign to what the public believed it to be."

"Even up until your Sorting," Snape added, drawing everyone's attention. "It was no doubt one reason for Draco's determination to befriend you. Was the reason for the Dark Lord's defeat that you were actually a greater Dark wizard? One that the Dark could rally around once more to protect our way of life."

"There's a vast difference between Dark and Evil," Harry told the man he now called uncle. The silence was deafening. It was as much a confession as any a Slytherin might give. The two former Death Eaters shared looks when Harry finally faced Patricia. "Yes, I know what the other Horcruxes are. He hid one away in a place only I can get to, gave one to Bellatrix, and used Regulus Black's help to hide the other."

Ted Tonks and Lucius Malfoy were two husbands comforting their distraught wives. And they were both almost sent flying when said wives' magic reacted to hearing how three Horcruxes had been near their family.

"Tom Riddle has no care for elves. Speaking of, thank you for sending Dobby to help me last year," Narcissa nodded, shocking Lucius at the revelation. "I need to know if Regulus had a favourite elf he would have used if someone asked for aid."

"Kreacher," his godmother instantly replied. The elf in question popped in

"Miss Cissa calls Kreacher? Kreacher is delighted to see Miss Cissa again!"

The elf was old, hunched over by the passage of time and a hard life. Harry recognised it from Riddle's memory. "House-elf for House Black, what happened after you left the Dark Lord's cave?"

The elf froze, shocked by the question no one should have ever asked. While everyone saw the sneer paint itself on the house-elf's face as he turned to Harry, none expected the look to morph into one of shock and awe. "Dark Death Lord...Is Dark Death Lord going to help Kreacher avenge Master Regulus?"

"That's my plan," Harry agreed, ignoring the questioning looks at what Kreacher called him. The group would hear of Regulus Black going back to the cave, of a brave boy forcing himself to drink a terrible potion as his last act of defiance against a man who spat on Magic itself. Of an elf ordered to destroy something he could not. As the crying house-elf wound down, Harry's soft voice broke the heavy atmosphere. "Bring me the locket, and I shall rid it of its Evil."

Kreacher clicked to cause the corrupted Slytherin locket to appear in mid-air. Harry rose to his feet, a magic-infused thumbnail slicing open his left palm. "Over there, please, Kreacher."

Kreacher used his magic to put the locket where the powerful mage indicated. The room stared on, inching back from the corrupting feel of the locket. Draco had moved into the arms of his parents. Every thought of working with the Dark Lord dying a quick death at the feel of the man's soul reaching for him.

Harry focused on the ritual Salazar had him memorise. His technique required much more practice to be suitable for combat, but it would be sufficient for now. He calmed his breathing, focusing on his Peverell magic and the rune array required to cleanse the Horcrux. When he had both ready, he flicked his bleeding hand at the object, and those watching gasped as the blood raced towards and around the locket. The blood drew itself into the runic array Harry wanted, and only those paying attention spotted that the blood never touched the floor. Shadows darkened in the room; the group thought they could hear the whispers of those long parted, and then Harry spoke in a language beyond human understanding.

The words rose and fell. Harry's blood glowed. And then something within the locket screamed as every piece of magic that made it a Horcrux was stripped away. With no magic anchoring the soul piece, it floated free, shifting into a monstrous face that snarled at Harry before fading away to rejoin its original piece.

"And another one bites the dust," Harry groaned, swaying as he recalled his blood. The crimson liquid flowed back into the gash that sealed itself shut after accepting the last drop. What they had just seen shocked, horrified, and fascinated them in equal measure. But the Boy Who Lived wasn't done. He stepped up to the crying elf to place his now healed palm on its forehead. "I take you as a member of House Black. To be my worker and aide, to share my secrets and guard them as your own. As you are my aid, I am your shield. As you are my servant, I am your loyal master."

Kreacher glowed, growing taller and younger as the Oath of Old took effect to make Kreacher a proper elf of House Black. Dobby popped into the room, sending a smile of thanks towards a shocked Narcissa, before using his magic to retrieve his Master's locket from where it still lay.

"Dobby will aid you in getting comfortable with your new form, and then I will assign you as Lady Narcissa and Andromeda's personal elf," Harry declared. Kreacher was too busy babbling over his new Master's greatness. Dobby had to gently wrap his arms around the elder elf to pop them away.

"How? What? What the fuck?" Nymphadora screeched, getting a 'language' from both parents.

"It's the old Oath of house-elves," an exhausted Harry explained, dropping boneless into his chair. The ritual had taken a lot out of him, but that didn't take away how impressive it had been. Patricia was immediately by his side, wand waving to check him over. "You'll find them more loyal and capable, and the mage far less capable of abusing them."

"And the elf's 'Dark Death Lord'?" the trainee Auror pushed. Harry yet again lifted his hand to show off his Peverell ring.

"The reason only I can safely go after one of the Horcruxes. Part of its container is a family artefact that will cause ruin to anyone not of our bloodline to handle. I will become Harold Peverell upon my majority. I've gained the Lordship no other Potter could claim." Every pair of eyes widened at that. The shattered teen could only shrug. "That's all my shocking news I'm revealing today. How about the rest of you?"

.

.

OoOoO

SN:

Last Edited - 29th June 2023

Word Count – 16,557

Previous Word Count - 16,711