AN: Hey, look, I managed to post the next update before a year was gone since the last one! Yay me!

Er. Sorry about this, really. For a few months my mental health didn¨t allow me to write anything at all, and then I got lost in another fandom, this time MCU.

To make matters worse, I can't promise you a flurry of updates right now to make up for the super long absence, but I WILL try to update at least once a month again.

For those of you who don¨t remember where we are – which I assume is going to be most of you – it's October of Harry's second year, and they have just solved the problem with the diary by stealing it from Parvati and getting it to Alduin. Alduin realized it was a Horcrux, and had a honest chat with Alexandra about it.

There's a lot of direct quotes from CoS in this one!

Harry was walking back from a Quidditch practice in the October rain, looking forward to the shelter of the castle and thinking about the blasted diary. Alduin had called him to explain that it had been an extremely dangerous dark magic artefact, and to thank him for finding it so soon and so efficiently. Harry had explained it was mostly Sophie's merit. „Was it more dangerous than just releasing the Chamber monster?" He had asked then.

„Yes, though there is no 'only' about the monster either."

„Yeah, I kinda figured that when it said it wanted to rip and kill, it wasn't exactly about peacefully guarding the castle. So the Slytherins were wrong, then?"

„I believe it's more complicated than that. It seems the monster was under Riddle's control via the diary, and of course we know Riddle would have no interest in peacefully guarding anything."

So now Harry was thinking about that. How powerful an artefact it must have been, to be able to not only release the monster, but control it as well? Through a bloody diary? It had looked so ordinary, too.

Sophie said Parvati was really upset she lost her diary, and was looking at both Lavender and her in suspicion now, arguing that they were the only two who knew about it and the only two who ever entered the room anyway.

„Except the house-elves, anyway," Harry had said.

„Blaming them doesn't quite seem like it would work," Sophie replied. „I wish we could tell her."

„I'll try to convince Alduin over Christmas."

„Great. That's two months away. The last thing I need is Parvati giving met the cold treatment for two months…"

„Oh, very well! I'll talk to Alduin sooner then. But I'm not promising anything."

Lost in these memories, Harry almost walked into Sir Nicolas, standing by a window and holding a transparent letter, looking grim.

„Oh, hello, Mr. Potter," he said.

„Hello, Sir Nicolas," Harry replied. „What happened? You look a little preoccupied…"

"Ah," the ghost waved his hand, "a matter of no importance… It's not as though I really wanted to join… Thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfill requirements'..." He frowned, and then he exploded: "But you would think, wouldn't you, that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?"

Harry considered it. He could certainly see the problem with it, however… "One would think you'd deserve it for the this, if nothing else," he said politely.

Sir Nicolas agreed. "Nobody wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean, and my head had come off properly, I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However—" He shook his letter open and read: "'We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requirements. With very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore.'"

He shook his head. "Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on! Most people would think that's good and beheaded, but oh, no, it's not enough for Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore."

"It's really strange," Harry agreed. "I mean, would it be such a problem if you didn't participate in the two activities he mentioned? Surely there are other things to the Hunt?" Harry had no clue, but he supposed there would be, otherwise why would Sir Nicolas want to apply?

"Well, yes, but these are considered so very attractive for people who see it, you see..."

"Well, I'm not saying they should cancel them, just-"

But here Harry was interrupted by loud mewling at his ankles, and when he looked down, he saw Mrs. Norris, who seemed to look accusingly at the water and mud that had dripped from his Quidditch robes.

"You'd better get out of here, Mr. Potter," Sir Nicolas said quickly. "Filch isn't in a good mood — he's got the flu and some third years accidentally plastered frog brains all over the ceiling in dungeon five. He's been cleaning all morning, and if he sees you dripping mud all over the place —"

"All right, thanks," Harry said and prepared to retreat, but not quickly enough. Filch appeared from behind a tapestry, with a scarf tired around his head and a purple nose.

"Filth!" he screamed, pointing at it. "Mess and muck everywhere! I've had enough of it, I tell you! Follow me, Potter!"

So Harry bid goodbye to Sir Nicolas and gloomily followed Filch to his office. At least the caretaker couldn't take points, so whatever happened, he wouldn't hurt Gryffindor.

The office was small with no windows and had a rather depressing atmosphere that made Harry think it was no wonder Filch was always in such a dreadful mood.

The man took a quill and began looking for something on his desk. "Dung," he muttered as he did so, "great sizzling dragon bogies… frog brains… rat intestines… I've had enough of it… make an example… where's the form… yes…"

He finally found a large roll of parchment, and began to talk to himself as he wrote: "Name… Harry Potter. Crime…"

"Please, it was only a bit of mud!" Harry tried to defend himself.

"It's only a bit of mud to you, boy, but to me it's an extra hour scrubbing!" the caretaker shouted. "Crime… befouling the castle… suggested sentence…"

He seemed stumped for a moment, unable to think of a punishment terrible enough for such a monstrous crime, and suddenly there was a great bang on the ceiling, sounding like someone threw a hundred glass vases on the floor above them.

"Peeves!" Filch screamed. "I'll have you this time, I'll have you!"

And with that, he ran out of the room.

Harry waited only a couple of heartbeats before he snatched the incomplete form and followed, leaving the office and doubling back on his footsteps. Cleaning water and mud wasn't hard, especially not when they were fresh, and it was a spell Alduin had recommended him last spring when he complained that his things were always getting dirty in the rainy weather. With a quick wave of his wand, Harry first cleaned his robes and shoes – admitting to himself that he really should have done this as soon as he entered the castle, but he had been too preoccupied – and then went, erasing all traces of his befouling of the castle and wondering why Filch couldn't do it just as easily, until he came across Sir Nicolas again.

"Mr. Potter! Did it work?" At Harry's confused look, he explained: "I persuaded Peeves to crash a cabinet right over Filch's office. Thought it might distract him —"

"Was that you? Yes, it worked, I had time to get away. Thank you! I wish I could help you with that Hunt business in turn..."

Sir Nicolas hesitated. "But there is something you could do for me," he said then. "If you wouldn't mind too much..."

"What is it?"

"Well, this Halloween will be my five hundredth deathday."

"Oh! Congratulations!"

"Thank you. I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons," Sir Nicolas continued. "Friends will be coming from all over the country. It would be such an honour if you would attend. But I daresay you'd rather go to the school feast?"

Harry mentally grimaced. He would, in fact, but he'd walked right into that one. "No, no, I'll come. Can I bring some friends?"

"Of course! And...do you think you could possibly mention to Sir Patrick why you think they really should accept me to the Hunt?"

Harry nodded. "Not a problem," he said.

"Wonderful! I'll be in your debt."

-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-

When Harry suggested the Deathday Party visit in the Gryffindor common room, however, no one looked too enthusiastic. „If it wasn't at the same time as the feast…" Sophie said.

„We'll of course go with you if you want us to, Harry," Neville said.

„Yeah," Ron agreed, less convincingly. „But still, the feast…"

„It's fine," Harry said. „I think I'll ask Hermione and Horatio and Roger. They're Ravenclaws and I doubt they've ever seen such a thing, they're bound to find it interesting.

He was right, too. Hermione was thrilled. „Oh Harry, thank you so much for asking me! Of course I'd like to go too. Can I take my friends with me?"

„Well…some, sure, but how many are we talking? I mean, I wanted to ask Horatio and Roger as well, and I'm not sure how many people I can take."

„At least Su?"

„Yeah, that's fine, I think."

Horatio and Roger both agreed that it was interesting and they'd stop by for a while, too. „As for how many people you can take with you," Horatio added, „why don't you write home and ask Alduin to ask your family ghost? You do have one, right?"

„Of course. Good idea. Thanks for the tip!"

Miss Brigit let him know she did not think Sir Nicolas would consider it presumptuous if Harry brought more guests with him, as he was clearly intended to be the guest of honour, and so Harry was able to tell Hermione that she could bring all of her friends. He beamed at him. „Brilliant!" She said.

Harry was glad he pleased her, but then wondered whether he shouldn't have asked some of the Slytherins as well. After thinking about it for a moment, he mirror-called Draco and explained the situation.

"It sounds interesting enough," Draco conceded, "but there's no way I'm going to miss out on the Halloween feast for it."

"I kinda expected to hear that," Harry said, "I just wanted to make sure. What about the others, what do you think?"

Draco asked around, and then turned to the mirror and said: "Daphne and Milicent aren't interested. Pansy looks like she might be, but I assume the invitation didn't include her?"

"Does she have something to say to me first?" Harry asked pointedly.

"I don't think so. Anyway, Theo looks like he's considering it."

"Can you pass him the mirror?"

"Sure."

Theo's face replaced Draco's, and the boy said: "Tell me more about the party."

"I don't know much, to be honest. It's Sir Nicolas five hundred deathday anniversary, and apparently lots and lots of ghosts are going to be there, and well, that's about it."

"Wow, you really do remember to ask for details, don't you?" Theo rolled his eyes. "But yes, I'll probably show up. I mean, it's more of an unique opportunity than the Halloween feast..."

Harry sincerely hoped that was true, and that Hagrid's huge pumpkins were going to make an appearance next year, too.

-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-

The laboratory safe with the diary locked in it was like a magnet to Alduin's thoughts.

The safest thing, of course, would be to destroy it immediately. He was sure he could get his hands on some basilisk venom on the black market. But the thing was...there was so much potential information in it, he rather loathed to do it. After all, how better to gather intelligence on your enemy than talk to him yourself?

On the other hand, he knew the danger in that, and knew that he couldn't do it on his own. He needed to call the transcendentals once again.

And there was one other thing. The possibility that there were more horcruxes out there needed to be taken into account, and to that end, it would be best to determine their probable number. So that meant a very honest conversation with Abdullah and Isobel.

He wondered how much Abdullah had told his wife. Alduin had shared all these details with him in perfect confidence, of course, but still. Isobel was bound to wonder. She knew something was wrong, both because she knew Alduin well enough to be able to tell and because she certainly noticed that outside of any encounters in society, Abdullah now visited Travers Manor every week like clockwork, and until just very recently, it had been several times a week. Abdullah must have given her some reason.

It was not as if Alduin minded Isobel knowing. Not beyond the simple fact that the more people knew, the more risk of discovery. He trusted her more than either Mrs. Gerard or Sarabeth, and as much as he trusted Muhammad. And it would be easier for Abdullah, he supposed, if his wife knew as well.

He wondered how many people in the world were aware of at least the possibility that Riddle had horcruxes somewhere. It must have occurred to most transcendentals, at least in theory. Dumbledore probably entertained the idea as well. Aduin wondered about the Death Eaters themselves, though.

He was perfectly confident that Lucius had no idea what the diary really was. If he had, he would have never let it out of his sight. In fact, he would have probably destroyed it – except that Riddle would then kill him very, very slowly when he returned, and Lucius preferred to avoid such fate. So he would have kept it in his most secure safe, somewhere where the frequent Ministry raids couldn't find it, and never mentioned it to anyone. Certainly he wouldn't hand it out to random children.

Alduin supposed it wasn't really surprising that Riddle didn't tell Lucius what it was. He wouldn't have wanted anyone to know how he achieved his immortality. Still, he must have given him some information. Lucius clearly knew the diary had the power to possess, or at least coerce, and that it opened the Chamber. Why, Alduin wondered, had Riddle told him that precisely? Why not just tell him it was an important Dark artefact? The warning about coercion was sensible, it prevented Lucius from interacting with the diary. But why tell him about the Chamber?

Alduin sighed, and walked up to his wing of the house, and to Wynn's nursery. Alexandra was at the Crouches for a historian get-together, but she had fed Wynn before she left, and the boy was now sleeping peacefully in his cradle. Alduin stood over him and watched him for a while. "I won't let Riddle win," he promised quietly. "I won't let him get to power. You'll be safe, I swear."