"I fucking hate this thing," Hydrus grumbled. "Feels like I've got a crab hanging off me."

Krum gave an acknowledging grunt, as commiserating a sound as the Bulgarian was capable of, while Hydrus continued to fiddle with the brass prosthetic he'd been temporarily fitted with. Had his partner for tonight's dance been anyone besides Hellena, a girl named after Ravenclaw's founder in a twist of tragic irony, he might've been able to skip it. Knowing her though, she'd probably still hold her right hand up in the air despite there being nothing to hold, thus unintentionally 'slighting' Hydrus and setting off a chain of pureblood politics he wanted no part in.

'Maybe this could be another side project,' Hydrus thought. 'Help the magical world catch up with the muggles in terms of prosthetics.'

Honestly it was almost infuriating how far behind this side was, and not just because of his time travel. Part of it was because of how many of life's little worries were easily solved by magic, but another part was just the wizarding world almost refusing to do anything that the muggles had already done. If his hand had been removed via more mundane means rather than cursed off, none of this would be an issue at all, and he could've just regrown it. Instead, since it had been decades since curse-related injuries were prevalent and since nobody ever bothered checking in with the muggle side of the medical field, he was stuck with a chunk of brass and bolts that left him feeling like a cyborg from the worst science-fiction movie the fifties had to offer.

He'd spent some time seeing if there was a better way to replace or repair his arm, but the prosthetic he now wore was as far as the wizarding world had gotten back during Grindelwald's war, and he'd had people to take care of such wounds in his own time. The muggles must have had something better than this, but he hadn't even thought to wear one until Bellatrix mentioned it, and he'd not been able to come up with an excuse to go and check in the mean time.

"How'd you lose your arm anyways?" Roger Davies asked. "Er, if that's not rude to ask."

"It is," Hydrus confirmed. "But if you must know, I lost it trying to prove that I'm the true heir to Salazar Slytherin."

Davies rolled his eyes and looked away with a scowl. Hydrus smiled at the annoyance and joke that would go over almost anyone's head. The three of them were standing in the foyer waiting for their dates to arrive. If Hydrus had to guess, Hermione would either be the first or last to arrive, and depending on that, Fleur then Hellena (no doubt with Tamina in tow) would follow. He was proven wrong when Hellena and Michael arrived together first instead.

"Here you are, mate," Michael said. The boy seemed oddly stiff. "One pureblood princess."

"Darn, here I was hoping for two." Hydrus took Hellena's hand and kissed its back. "Good evening, Hellena, how are you?"

"Fine," she said. "Just fine."

She was wearing a cream-coloured dress that suited her pale complexion and white-blonde hair. Its bottom half was covered in frills and lace, whilst its top was tight and apparently doing its best to strangle the already waifish-looking girl. She wore a simple pearl necklace and matching earrings, and her hair was curled and cascading down her shoulders. All in all, despite the pearls making the look seem a bit older than was fashionable, she looked cute.

In a moment the others could ascribe to him simply admiring her 'beauty', Hydrus instead thought back to his own forces during the war. He should've done more things like this to keep them happy. Morale was hardly a concern back then, not when the only alternative to fighting was to go be killed by a madman, but little things like 'dances' would've been easy enough to do in order to make his followers happy. He could easily see his forces dressed up in whatever 'fancy' clothes they could find, his older soldiers playing along with everything, and the younger majority getting to be 'normal' for once.

Hell, he probably could've used one or two moments like those when he himself was still a teen. Voldemort's initial rampage had practically destroyed his entire world. Technically Hogwarts was still left standing, but the students and faculty had been forced to flee; the ones who didn't have a place in the world Tom Riddle had promised anyways. Most died in the attempt. The man's first target had been the Ministry, then Hogwarts, then nearly every other place of importance in magical Britain. Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, St. Mungo's; they'd all been left half-destroyed and entirely conquered. Even Dumbledore hadn't been able to do more than slow him down before fleeing, and neither the ancient warlock nor Harry in the years to come had been able to figure out just what had given Voldemort so much power upon initially reviving.

Hydrus shook his head. These trips down memory lane were becoming more frequent and it wasn't good for his mental health. The last thing he needed was to have a breakdown just before the 'all-important' school dance.

"Why don't we go stand over there," Michael said, jerking his head to the side. "Wanted to tell you something real quick."

Hydrus guided Hellena over to a corner of the room and waved his hand to cast a silencing charm. "Go on then."

"Malfoy wanted you to know that it's happening the first day back from Yule break." Despite the charm, Michael had leaned in to speak and his voice was quiet. "Whatever he and your Weasleys have cooked up for the Ravenclaws is going to happen then."

"So he did end up enlisting their help?" Michael nodded. "Good. He's becoming a fine talent in his own right, but I think we all know that when it comes to things like this they're the pros."

"Don't need to tell me twice," the Shnopps boy agreed. "They're menaces."

"Any idea if there'll be collateral damage?" Hydrus asked.

"Not sure." He shrugged. "Probably not?"

Once more proving he didn't know anything about ladies' prep times, Hermione arrived next. Her being there more or less confirmed that she wasn't dating Ron yet, though maybe she never would now that there wasn't going to be a war breaking out at the end of the year. She looked just like he remembered from his last time at the ball, hair straightened and teeth fixed.

"Damn," Shnopps said. "Not bad for a mudblood."

Hydrus's eye twitched. "I'll make sure to pass on your compliments."

The boy's face lit up. "Whatever. You avoid them more than the rest of us do."

"I do?" Hydrus wanted to argue with that, but thinking back on it… "Well, it's only because few of them are useful. If she winds up entangled with Krum, and with talents like hers, maybe that will change."

"Merlin, you really would, wouldn't you?" Michael shook his head. "Honestly, you'd keep giants around if you thought they'd be useful."

Hydrus hummed. "Maybe I should get a pair, just to one-up Malfoy and his henchmen duo."

Michael laughed, and a half-second later Hellena joined him. Hydrus spared her a glance and felt some pity well up for the girl. She really was a sweet person, but if it weren't for the fact that Tamina had more or less 'adopted' her, she'd have been eaten alive in a house like Slytherin. The blonde only ever laughed when others did, was always staring off into space, and if it weren't for the neck holding it in place Hydrus was certain she'd forget her head anywhere she went.

"So who's your date for the evening?" Hydrus asked. "Tamina? Daphne?"

"Tamina," Michael confirmed. "She said she'd be up right after us, so we might see her some time before the evening's up."

"She wants to look as pretty as possible," Hellena said with a small smile, finally adding something to the conversation. "That there's someone she wants to impress."

"Well it sure ain't me," Michael said with a snort. "She was walking around looking like a troll with that face mask on."

"Doesn't that bother you?" Hydrus asked with a cocked brow. "You're her date after all."

"Please, I'm only here to hang out with everyone." Michael waved his hand through the air dismissively. "I've already got a marriage contract in place with some German girl whose family owns a few breweries. My father apparently wants to get into that business."

"How is he not already?" Hydrus asked, bemused. "Your last name is Shnopps."

"So?"

Hydrus blinked, but before he could explain how wonderful peppermint schnapps were, Fleur made her entrance. Everyone but Hermione stopped what they were doing to stare, and it took all of Hydrus's willpower to look away before the alluring woman caught him gawking. He none to gently pressed down on Michael's foot until the boy snapped out of his reverie and coughed.

"Thanks," he muttered. "Merlin, she's something else."

"Right, time for you to learn how to deal with it. Just look whoever is talking in the eye, unless she speaks up, then look at her nose." Hydrus made his way back over towards the rest of the champions. "Well, well, well, look who decided to show up."

Fleur cocked a brow at him and slid her arm into Davies', causing the taller boy to lock up like he'd been hit with a stunner. "It takes time to look this perfect, not that you would know."

"Please." He slid his good arm into Michael's. "You're just jealous the boy I brought is cuter than yours."

Fleur laughed, but Hellena turned to him in confusion. "I thought you were bringing me?"

'Oh, sweetie,' he thought. "I can do both."

"You can?"

Michael cleared his throat and pulled himself free. "He's just messing about. Here, trade sides with me."

They did so and Hydrus tried not to laugh at the poor girl when he slid his arm around her waist. It was a bit more intimate a gesture than was strictly appropriate for such an event and acquaintance, but he felt bad for accidentally teasing her.

"Is that fur from the manticore?" Fleur asked.

Hydrus was wearing a dark, black set of dress robes that included a fur lining. He nodded. "Yes. We figured it was best to make sure nothing went to waste with it since I was the one who killed it. Plus, it gives me the chance to rub it in Krum's face."

"Ha," Krum started. "We see if you're still so confident after second task."

"Oh I will be," he said. "Even if I were to somehow lose. In case you haven't noticed, I'm incredibly arrogant."

That earned a proper laugh from the others, even Krum, and Hydrus turned to the door just as McGonagall entered. She quickly ushered them into the grand hall where Michael broke away from the group, leaving the champions and their dates at the centre of the hall to prepare for the first dance. Hydrus took a moment to look around and saw that it wasn't as packed as he'd expected. There were still more students milling about than his last go around, but he wouldn't be bumping elbows with anyone.

The first dance went about as well as he could've hoped. He and Bellatrix had spent quite a bit of time practising, both with and without the prosthetic arm attached, so he was able to keep up with the apparently well-rehearsed Hellena. The girl herself spent the entire time just staring down at his chest, refusing to meet his eyes even once, and doing a perfectly fine job of following the steps.

Next he danced with Fleur and then Hermione. He could at least say he did a better job of maintaining his composure with the quarter-veela than Davies or Krum had, but his cheeks still held a warmth the entire time they stepped and twirled. The song with Hermione had been a quick one, saving him from too much painful nostalgia, but she did manage to step on his feet a few times.

Once they were finished he took Hellena by the arm and guided her over to a table where Michael, Blaise, Tamina, and Daphne sat. He pulled out a seat for Hellena beside Tamina but the tall girl shook her head.

"I'm going to get a drink."

"I can do that," Hydrus said. "What would you like?"

"No, it's alright."

Hydrus watched her leave, trying to puzzle out what her deal was as he took his seat. Blaise said hello but got up to leave as well, taking Daphne with him, leaving Hydrus with just Tamina and Michael. He raised an eyebrow at them.

"So what is it you two seem to want to talk about?"

Michael squirmed a bit in his seat, but after a moment spoke up. "My cousin isn't dumb."

"I never said she wa—"

"She can speak seventeen languages." The boy interrupted. "She plans to learn all of the European languages by the time we graduate. She struggles a bit with magic, but not like Crabbe and Goyle do. Her potions, astrology, and divination scores are all above average."

Hydrus didn't know where this was going, so he remained silent as Michael took another breath.

"Her parents want to marry her off to Gregory Stables, a fifty-year-old Chechen wizard." He looked back and forth for a moment, so Hydrus made a show of casting another silencing spell. "She doesn't want that, and I just want to see her happy."

"And you want me to help you break things off." Hydrus took the boy's measure, and saw genuine sincerity behind his pleading eyes. "You know I don't mind helping my friends, but I take it you want something more than just me proverbially bitch-slapping House Stables so as to scare her parents off."

"You've already helped a bit," Tamina chimed in. "By taking her to the dance."

It suddenly clicked for Hydrus. "You want me to marry her?"

"You don't have to actually marry her," Michael said quickly. "But if you could at least set up some sort of contract…"

"I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop." He glanced over and saw Hellena was sharing a dance with Blaise now. "You two wouldn't look like the most suspicious pair of drug dealers I've ever seen if that's all there was. What else do you want?"

"She… She already has someone she's with."

Hydrus cocked his brow at them again. "And it's some poor half-blood or muggle born?"

Tamina shook her head. "It's… It's me."

"Oh." Hydrus scratched at his jaw. "Didn't see that coming. Probably should have though."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tamina asked, glaring.

Hydrus shrugged. "Nothing. You two just get along exceptionally well. If you were worried about me getting in the way of things just because I'd be potentially engaged to her, I honestly couldn't care less." He hummed. "The real problem is that you need to take it up with Bella, not me. I can still make sure she doesn't get married off to the old guy, but if you're looking for her to get engaged to me, she'll need to be the one to sign off on it."

"Could you arrange a meeting?" Tamina asked quickly. "We would only need a little bit of her time."

Hydrus scanned the room. Eventually he found Bellatrix chatting with McGonagall, and after staring at her for a few seconds, she met his gaze. He tilted his chin up then turned back towards the table. "She'll be on her way."

"Wait, right now?" Michael seemed to be losing his nerve. "I wouldn't want to disturb her."

"It's fine." Hydrus wanted a drink of his own now, but knew he'd have to wait to make introductions. "Bellatrix isn't as scary as she seems in class. Once she knows it's what I want she'll find a way to make it work. Just be polite and try to compliment me as much as is reasonable, she's a bit crazy like that."

"Thank you." Michael didn't seem convinced, but the gratitude in his voice was palpable. "I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"You already have," Hydrus said. "You delivered Draco's message to me. You've stood by my side and cheered me on during the first trial." He stood and offered his seat to the newly arrived Bellatrix. "I don't keep score when it comes to such things. You've been my friend, and I help my friends."

"And here I thought you'd called me over for a dance," Bellatrix said. She'd been a touch cold ever since he'd blown her off the other night, but he was still 'her lord'. "What is it?"

"My friends here want me to accept a temporary marriage contract with Hellena Tankle," he said. "I told them they need to sell you on it first. She's already secretly dating Tamina, and that isn't a problem for us. I'm going to die of thirst if I don't get going, so I'll bring you one too."

He didn't wait for a response before leaving. Bellatrix would either handle it, or he'd have to deal with the fallout later. He'd lectured her about not reporting everything he did to Arcturus, but he hadn't the faintest idea what else he needed to actually declare in order to make sure she wouldn't accidentally 'betray' him.

He'd only taken a single sip from the spiked punch that someone, no doubt the Weasley twins, had tampered up before someone else came tapping on his shoulder.

"Excuse me." It was Ginny Weasley. "Would you be willing to dance with me?"

"Depends," he said after finishing off his glass. "Is this to win, or the result of losing, a bet? Or are you trying to make someone jealous?"

Ginny wasn't much different than he remembered. She'd died somewhere around the time he was twenty-three or twenty-four, but beyond that he could hardly remember her. The gaps in the memories of his late teens and early twenties stood as tombstones over the graves that Magic had left filled in the wake of his second bargain. He knew from conversations with others that they'd been together, that they'd loved one another, that he'd nearly gotten himself killed in the wake of her passing, but it didn't change the fact that he could hardly recognize her beyond being his best friend's little sister with a crush a mile wide on the 'boy who lived' though.

"Neither," she said, too defensive for it to be true. "I just want to dance."

"Very well." Hydrus floated his and Bellatrix's glasses back to the concessions table. "But only because of my partnership with your brothers." He pulled one foot back and allowed his chest to dip into a formal bow. "Shall we?"

All in all it was a fairly smooth experience, but it was odd to look at the 'stranger'; every detail of her face looked ghostly familiar and yet wrong in so many ways. Wrinkles he'd subconsciously expected to find were missing, some freckles had yet to appear whilst others were stronger than they should've been, and having to look her in the eye rather than towering over her felt all sorts of weird. Other than the occasional gaps with Fleur, this was his first time coming face to face with the price he'd paid for his second blessing.

When Ginny stepped on his foot, he lifted it up from under her so as to raise the third year into the air with the aid of magic, spinning her around in a dazzling display. As she settled back down, he smiled at her.

"There," Hydrus said. "Have you won your bet?"

"I told you it wasn't a bet." Which meant it was the latter guess. Her eyes betrayed her as she turned away, and Hydrus followed her stare to where it ended at his younger self. "I just wanted to dance."

"So be it then." He pulled away and bowed once more, this time bringing her hand along with him to place a kiss on its back. "Have a good evening."

He called forth the glasses he'd left behind and returned to the table where Michael, Tamina, Bellatrix, and now Hellena were sitting. Bellatrix took hers with a tight smile and swallowed its contents in a flash.

"I'll be handling things from here," she said. "You don't need to worry about it."

"Good." He held out his hand to her. "May I have this dance, Bella?"

The rest of his evening was spent twirling with the first of his now-two future fiancees. Perhaps that could be how he would manage to live up to Bellatrix's expectations toward his 'harem', just get engaged to as many pureblooded lesbians as he could find. The thought of it brought a chuckle to him, and Bellatrix must've misconstrued it as she finally sent a real smile his way.

Hydrus didn't particularly enjoy dancing, but it was obviously making Bellatrix happy, and considering the way he'd been pushing her around as of late maybe that made it worthwhile. The last thing he needed was to disillusion the most loyal follower and the most devout member of the Black family he had. The insane witch was held in high regard in their society, and that made her worth her weight in gold.

The fact that she was pretty and kept him warm had nothing to do with it.

Arcturus sat in pain. His sons both sat before him, and he was doing his damnedest to not let them know how much it hurt him to just sit still. He stared them both down, and although Orion looked him dead in the eye, Cygnus refused to meet his gaze.

"Well?" the patriarch demanded. "What do you want?"

"Will you be making Hydrus your heir?" His eldest at least wasted no time dilly-dallying. "After what he did with the manticore?"

The patriarch allowed his sons to stew in the question. He'd put off this meeting as long as he could, coming up with excuses related to preparing for the Black Yule Ball to ward them off, but it couldn't last forever. He sighed and turned towards the window.

Long ago, back when his grandson was still nipping after his father's heels, Sirius had been all but declared the heir to House Black. Even from such a young age he'd shown an astronomical potential in magic, having accidentally blown up an entire guest house during one of his temper tantrums. During his later training, a gift made itself known that even Orion couldn't begrudge the passover because of.

The boy was able to draw on the magic of family members around him, something completely unheard of in all of magic, let alone in the Black line. Only Arcturus, Orion, and Cygnus knew of it, wanting to save the revelation for a later date and announce it during Sirius's seventeenth birthday celebration. The last thing they needed was to inflate the boy's ego further than it had already gone, and thus even Sirius himself wasn't aware of what he could do.

"Possibly," he finally answered. "He's everything we ever hoped your boy would become."

When he'd grown older and more rebellious, eschewing all that the noble line had to offer him, Arcturus had been heart broken. Now it seemed fate had given him a second chance to rear an heir worthy of the most noble and ancient house that the entire wizarding world had to offer. Hydrus had inherited his father's gift, and made use of it to perform magic that Arcturus had yet to replicate despite the countless aching bones and coughing fits the attempts had cost him.

Sirius had been such a disappointment. Had he just been more submissive, more malleable, Arcturus could have turned him into the greatest head that this family had ever known. He certainly rutted about the way that was necessary to restore their line to good standing; if he'd had half the balls of their ancestor, the notoriously randy Alphard Black, he would have sired countless children and built himself up a legion of wells to draw magic from. Instead he'd put out a single under-fed and underweight welp that could barely be recognized as a living human, let alone a noble.

That same welp now had the power to brutalise and slay a manticore the size of a dragon with such aplomb that it left a crowd speechless.

"And you intend to marry him to Bellatrix?" Cygnus finally spoke up.

"Hmph, that's certainly what she intends." Arcturus scratched at his beard. "She's handling his marital affairs; been far more useful than you ever have."

Cygnus twitched, but didn't argue. What a spineless little shit he was, and lucky that Arcturus didn't shove his boot so far up his ass that—

"You're handling his affairs in the wider world, Bellatrix is handling his personal affairs." Orion jutted his chin out and sneered. "Are you sure he can even stand on his own two legs?"

"Don't get testy with me, boy." Arcturus flared his magic, enjoying the thrill of getting to stretch the proverbial muscles again. "I haven't yet made a decision, but with each and every word out of your mouth it becomes that much easier. Is that clear?"

"I will not be cowed so easily this time, father." Orion stood and Arcturus could feel the magic pour off him in a futile attempt to try and beat back his own. "I have waited decades for the chance to seize control of what is rightfully mine, and I will not be—"

Arcturus vanished the air from his son's lungs with a flick of his wand, then cast a constriction hex on his throat to stop more from coming in. His cane fell to the ground, now headless, and he paid it no heed as he stood. Orion's magic faded away like a fart in the wind, and the patriarch watched as his son's eyes bulged out before the man himself eventually collapsed. He waited just a few moments more to ensure Orion would remain unconscious before undoing his magic and setting his wand on his desk.

"Take his ring, Cygnus." Arcturus's voice was as cold as his name. "For now, it belongs to you."

"Yes, father."

As Cygnus set about his work, Arcturus didn't doubt they both knew that his holding of the Heir's Ring was nothing more than a formality. The younger of the two brothers was far too weak-willed, too soft, to ever lead this family, but for now he would do as both a humiliation for his older brother and to keep the ring warm for whomever would truly inherit the clan.

As of now, Arcturus was of two minds about who should inherit.

On one hand, there was Hydrus Sirius Black. The scion lost but now found, and quickly laying claim to the wizarding world. If Bellatrix was to be believed, he was setting up the foundation for a power base that could allow him to stand atop every last one of his peers and lessers, and doing it with such a gentle but firm touch that people both feared and loved him. Arcturus didn't doubt that even if he hadn't chosen to 'return' to their house, he could've climbed up to the top of society with nothing more than his wand and wit.

On the other hand, there was the boy's father.

Sirius Orion Black. The Black Sheep. From what the latest reports said, his grandson was responsible for nearly ten-percent of all arrests in the ministry, an absolutely unprecedented number. His coworkers cursed his name and the proficiency he wielded, and he'd yet to pick up a single scar despite his long tenure as an auror and hitwizard. It had been his eldest grandson's destiny to lead this family to greater heights than ever before. He'd once abandoned them, but now came crawling back, all in the name of his son and 'competition'.

"Tell me, Cygnus," Arcturus said. "What do you think about our situation?"

His youngest son paused, either thinking or pretending to think in order to look more intelligent than he was. "Hydrus is as powerful a wizard as I've ever seen, certainly more powerful than any I've ever seen at that age... If he were to marry my daughter, I'd have no complaints whatsoever at his inheriting your throne."

"How proper." Arcturus wanted to sneer at the man, but it had been a proper answer. "Doing the opposite of what your now-disgraced brother did, whilst still showing your own ambitions. I'm sure your mother would be proud."

Cygnus's nostrils flared, but as always he remained silent, remained weak.

"For now you shall be my heir." Arcturus slid his wand back into the cane he retrieved from the floor and returned to his seat, the pain he constantly ran from catching back up to him. "Eventually I shall change my mind. Maintain honour whilst you wear that ring, is that understood?"

"Yes, father."

"Good." He cast one last look at his eldest son. "Take him home, and if Walburga gives you any lip, tell the cow to take it up with me."

Merlin, that'd be a treat.

Hydrus stared into the eyes of his headmaster and mentor, waiting for him to make a move. His hands were splayed out, a treasure cradled in either palm, and the ancient wizard had yet to make a decision as to which he would choose. The much younger wizard licked his lips, and that was apparently enough of a signal for Dumbledore to settle.

"I'll take this one." He reached out and grabbed the American lollipop that Hydrus had offered, and left behind the lemon drop in the other. "Better to take the road less travelled, it could make all the difference."

"More for me then." Hydrus popped the other candy into his mouth and basked in the sweetness. "I'm still waiting on your vow."

It was a week into the winter break and they were in a pub not too far from Glarus, supposedly the rainiest city in all of Switzerland. A few muggles milled about, but with the sky belching out sleeting rain by the puddle-full and winds strong enough that Hydrus had offered his lone arm in support of his old friend, the majority of people seemed to have preferred to stay home. What little folk joined them despite the weather seemed to be the most experienced of alcoholics, the dreariest of drifters, and the loneliest of bachelors.

Hydrus was wearing a simple pair of muggle jeans and a flannel shirt which had done a fine job of keeping him warm beneath a leather jacket that looked like he'd stolen it straight out of Sirius's closet. Dumbledore had chosen a light-brown tweed suit that was old and out of date, especially with the watch chain poking out from one of its coat pockets, but considering how ancient the man himself was it hardly seemed all that suspicious. The pair probably just looked like an out of touch grandfather trying to bond with his rebellious grandson on a vacation.

"I'm still trying to find the words that will best suit us." Dumbledore had unwrapped the sucker and was admiring its matte, raspberry-red colour. "As you yourself said, it wouldn't do for the headmaster of Hogwarts to be beholden to a student for too long."

"I know," Hydrus confirmed. "But I figured I should make it clear whom we're waiting on."

He'd probably allowed the basilisk to grow too old, but he didn't particularly care. The resurrection stone had survived everything short of a nuclear explosion in his past life, and he didn't doubt it would do the same this go around. Losing the ring that it was set in would be disappointing, but he couldn't find it within himself to care all too much after he'd lost half an arm the last time he tried wearing it.

Dumbledore finally reached out and took a bite from his fish and chips that Hydrus had ordered for him. The younger man's plate sat already-devoured, it once held a sausage and potato dish the menu called 'papet vaudois', and he wondered how Dumbledore was able to still enjoy his own savoury dish with the tootsie-pop stuck in the corner of his mouth. Somehow, someway, the man managed to take another bite before continuing.

"How certain are you that this will work?" the headmaster asked. "What if it still isn't ready?"

"I'm almost positive that, if things remained how I left them, the ring will be decursed. The real worry is just how much of the ring-setting will remain." Hydrus crunched down on his lemon drop, and with its aftertaste still ringing in his mouth, took a sip of his beer. "The only way I could see it still being a problem is if the basilisk spat it up, but for the beast to have done that we'll have bigger problems on our hands."

"Oh?"

Hydrus took and slowly released a breath of air. "Truth be told, I don't have much of an idea on how the basilisk will react to the magics. For all I know, it's grown to become a powerful menace. Digestion is the means with which we absorb nutrients, so for all I know it's sustained itself on the powerful Slytherin and Peverell magics and become something hitherto unknown."

"How remarkable." Dumbledore forked up a bite of chips and fish and chowed through it, all whilst Hydrus wondered over the state of his sucker. "It seems we have quite the work cut out for us."

"For all it knows, I'm still its parent." Hydrus reached into his bag and handed over a pair of oblong and hyper-extended 'goggles'. "Between that and these we should be safe. The lenses are a series of back and forth mirrors that will allow us to survive even direct eye contact with the serpent, albeit petrified, and the other can cart the victim off to safety."

"Incredible." Dumbledore took the goggles and replaced his glasses with them before staring about the pub like a blind man given sight for the very first time. "It's like a twisted carnival attraction."

"I'm hoping we won't end up relying on them," Hydrus said. "The basilisk should respect me and obey my commands, but as I said, with the potential 'power up' the stone has given it we can't be sure."

"Uncertainty and danger are the hallmarks of true adventures." Hydrus wished he had another plate of his own as he watched Dumbledore continue to feast on his. The old man still hadn't removed the goggles. "It's quite exhilarating to be on the hunt once more."

Hydrus didn't know about that; he'd probably done enough hunting for a lifetime. Dumbledore, on the other hand, had been sitting on his thumbs since 'The Great War' of the forties. Getting to go traipsing around with his protege, even if the man didn't recognize him as such yet, was probably the most exciting thing that had happened to him since the famed duel with his ex-lover, Gellert Grindelwald.

"You certainly don't seem to be a stranger to alcohol," Dumbledore said as Hydrus took another sip from his beer. "Be sure not to overdo it."

The barback who'd taken their order hadn't even batted an eye at the fourteen-year old who hardly looked his age ordering a beer. Hydrus wasn't sure if the man just didn't care , if it wasn't a problem in Switzerland in this century, or if the thick wallet he'd left sitting on the table had whispered 'don't worry about it' to him. Either way it was delicious.

"I come from a line of powerful, long-lived alcoholics," he said. "It'll take more than a few beers to set me on my ass, fourteen or not."

"Here," Dumbledore said. He pushed the remainder of his plate forward. "I'm quite finished, and you'll need more food to balance that all out."

"Thank you."

He'd never have taken it if Bellatrix or another member of his 'family' had been around, but it was hard to believe Dumbledore would care about the impropriety of sharing food, let alone discuss the moment with anyone whose opinion mattered. The first bite of fish put what little thoughts he had on the matter to rest. The little foreign pub might not've been a proper chippy, but that seemed to only encourage them to try harder to make it as delicious as possible.

The fish was flaky and tender without any hint of stale sourness, double-battered with a proper mix of beer and flour that gave it a crispy crunch each time. Unlike some of the cheap stands he'd visited in this life and the last, it wasn't soggy at all and held firm with each bite. The chips themselves were standard fare, but that was almost better than being some artisanal nonsense. It took him less than a minute to polish off what the headmaster had left him, and he capped it off by draining the German stout he'd been nursing.

"Your appetite is quite something as well, I wonder where it all goes," Dumbledore said with a quick, quirking smile. "I doubt it'll be much longer before you've caught up in height with your classmates."

"I've spent too many years of my life starving." That fact was both true, and fit into the narrative he'd woven for his backstory. "It often feels like a score I can never truly settle, but I'll be damned if I don't give it my best shot."

"Just be sure to keep up with your exercising." The older man stroked his beard. "Else by the time you're my age, they'll have to levitate you around."

"I intend to, but even if I fail, the muggles will have come up with a remedy." Hydrus waved the host over with his empty stein. "Their medical limitations may be far wider than our own, but they also have the potential to stretch their skills beyond the scope of what our world has to offer."

"Have you spent much time on their side of things, then?" Hydrus asked for the check. "You seem to be quite well-versed."

"It's easier to sneak and survive there." Another double-truth. "At least for now."

Voldemort had started his campaign mostly maintaining the law of secrecy. He'd blitzed the magical world upon his return, but kept his attacks 'in house' to try and make sure that he wouldn't be fighting on two proverbial fronts. As time went on, and as Harry and his forces continued to survive like cockroaches, the Dark Lord started to care less and less about secrecy. After the Quiet Year, if the monster even got so much as a whiff of Harry's location, he'd storm the spot without an iota of care for witnesses, magical and muggle alike, in order to have a chance to finally put their endless battle to rest once and for all.

It was Harry's job to make sure they stayed even just half-a-step ahead at all times. It was Harry's job because if there was any slip up, it was him that the others would blame; regardless of whether or not it was his fault.

They rarely ever said it aloud, only during understandable and torrential breakdowns where they would winnow away his confidence and hope. They would accuse him of being a failure, of disappointing his parents, of not being half the man his mentor or even his godfather were, of being the reason they would never get to bury their loved ones. Once they'd calm down, they'd almost always apologise.

But Harry couldn't forgive them, not when they were right.

Had he been the man he eventually grew to become, or even just half that, before Voldemort was resurrected for the first time, he could've potentially bought them years of peace with which to find the horcruxes in. His fourth year, much like this one, had been spent in the midst of the Triwizard Tournament, a perfect opportunity to hone his skills and become worthy of the position. Instead he'd done what he always did during the school year. Goofed off, moped, bickered like a child with rivals and friends alike. Many had tried to assure him that it was understandable, but they were the same ones who'd curse his name when it was their turn. The same ones who hated him as much as they respected him. The same ones who would eventually die and leave him with yet another memory of failure and a new reason for others to hate him and—

"How about this." Hydrus shook his thoughts away as Dumbledore spoke. "I, Albus blah-blah-blah, to not attempt to wear, use, or otherwise risk my well being via the ring and stone until Hydrus Sirius Black gives me permission. I shall allow Hydrus Sirius Black to lead and make all decisions in regards to this venture, and shall make no attempt to undermine that outside of whatever circumstances he and I would both consider to be reasonable." He'd pulled his sucker out of his mouth to speak clearly, and was twirling it in his finger as he went, seemingly transfixed by its shrunken state. "The last bit is a bit tricky, and risky if your and I's definitions of reasonable aren't similar, but it should do."

"Fine." Hydrus could hardly find it within him to care after his last bout of morose reminiscing. "Shall we then?"

"Let's."

Hydrus stood and tossed a stack of Euros onto the table. Technically he should've paid in Francs, but the excess amount he left should keep the proprietor more than satisfied. Merlin, it was nice being rich again.

They had only just stepped out of the bar when Dumbledore gasped. Hydrus spun around, wand half-palmed, but saw the headmaster simply standing in the rain with eyes wide and mouth agape. He was staring at the half-shattered form of his sucker.

"There's chocolate inside!"

Sirius rubbed at his forehead. James was off at a Wizengamot meeting, and one he couldn't weasel out of. Dumbledore was on some vacation and it was the Lord of House Potter's turn to fill in as Substitute Chief Warlock. That meant Sirius was stuck in his friend's office all on his own, pouring over the ledgers listing visitors from the first trial. Right now he was flipping through the various permits and personnel documents for 'Johnathan Spotsworth's Worthy Pots', the business that had provided the portable restrooms for the event.

If he hadn't already been motivated to catch the Shadow in order to impress Amelia, he was definitely gonna wring the bastard's neck now that he was forced to browse through a catalogue of shit-catchers.

There was a knock at the door. "You in there, Siri?"

"Yeah."

Lily opened the door, and the familial love Sirius held for his 'sister-in-law' doubled over as he saw the tray of food she brought him. He stood to come get it, couldn't let her see any potential plans he and James had left out for the prank after all, and beamed.

"You're the best, Lils." He grabbed the tray and sat it down on a shelf near the door. "What's got you playing the dutiful, 'proper' noblewoman?"

She rolled her eyes. "See if I ever do anything nice for you again."

Sirius just laughed. "You know how much longer James will be away?"

"Who knows," she sighed. "Apparently there's some old debate doing the rounds again."

"Lemme guess," he said with a snort. "Coconut charcoal?"

She blinked. "How'd you know?"

"Wait, seriously?"

That old debate had driven Sirius mad when he was a teen and forced to 'shadow' his grandfather at the Wizengamot. Looking back on it, knowing what he knew now via osmosis from James, it had actually been an interesting one in the grand scheme of things. It was one of the rare instances where a Wizengamot debate wasn't split almost perfectly between party lines.

Arcturus himself was partly responsible for that, his greed for getting to make money off imports and the innate practicality of the substance lead him to supporting the theoretically 'light' bill, and dragging the internal bloc he headed along with him despite the rest of the 'dark' side opposing it. The other half of the Wizengamot had been split straightly down the middle on it because of something to do with the environment. At first Sirius had actually agreed with his grandfather, but as the meeting dragged on and on, he eventually decided he would rather eat a whole coconut himself than listen to anymore arguing.

The fire he'd started to escape the situation had almost been done subtly enough to let him get away with it.

There was a tapping at the window, and Sirius turned around to see a vaguely familiar Ministry owl. He shot Lily an apologetic look and the woman nodded and left. He opened the window and took the letter from the raptor, feeling some amount of relief when the bird flew away. That meant he wouldn't be expected to write something back. He tore one end of the letter open, and slid the contents out.

Hello love,

He smiled at the sight of Amelia's handwriting. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

I'm afraid I've got some bad news.

Or not.

France is kicking up a bit of a fuss over the Triwizard Tournament. It seems your son revealing that the second task would be taking place underwater, and pointing out how unfair that would be to Delacour, has got their public in a frenzy. They're sending a delegation of officials, including their damned PM, over to observe the task. Besides what that could mean for Hydrus himself, we'll have an extra influx of VIPs we need to look out for and observe. I need you to swing by the office and pick up you and James's share of the new dossiers ASAP.

I'm sorry. I promise to keep not mentioning the way you're always staring at my legs in exchange for you doing it with a smile.

Yours,

Amelia F. G. Bones

Sirius wanted to toss the letter into the fire in annoyance, but the sweetness at the end stayed his hand.

'Remember her legs, Padfoot,' he thought. 'Remember the legs.'

With a sigh he folded the parchment back up and tucked it into his pocket. He practiced the most over-the-top, ridiculous smile he could manage in order to retain some of his pride by rebelling against her request, but still doing what she'd asked. After that he locked up the office and made his way to the Potter foyer, giving a quick 'no worries, just more about the op' to Lily as he went, and tossed some floo powder down.

'Seriously,' he thought as the flames flared. 'I'm going to WRING the Shadow's neck.'

BBaRtS

Officially over 100K words! There's a chance we wouldn't have hit that point till next chapter if it weren't for these long-ass AN's, but I'll take it. We're at, according to the stats page of FF, 139 reviews, 1206 followers, 820 favorites, 8 communities, and 75,199 views as of the time of me posting this chapter. That's so insane to me. Over SEVENTY-FIVE, THOUSAND, views. Now, admittedly, every time any person views or re-views a single chapter it counts as a new 'view', but let me have my big numbers. My self-esteem needs this.

Since we talked about formatting stuff with the em-dashes last time, lemme ask y'all this. With regards to Magic, what are the better way to do pronouns between 'she' vs 'She' with the capital S. In my head I think the capitalization is better to show how much reverence Hydrus has for her, and can provide some fun contrast for other characters that might see her and not have that reverence. But it also might just be distracting.

I've finally finished chapter 16, and even moved on to and completed chapter 17 on top of that.

On to a couple reviews, which as always are my favorite part.

"I know the worlds are different, but how can you say Harry doesn't have future knowledge that he can make financial gains with?" This may be another example of me not emphasizing things enough, so I tried to add some more oomph to just how bad things got immediately following Harry's fourth year at the end of the tournament. We aren't looking at cannon post-revival Voldemort, we're dealing with apocalyptic circumstances for the magical world in the wake of the dark lord's return.

"At this point I always read the latest chapter looking for the mandatory 'it would not do to have a breakdown in front of...'." I love finding the best points to put these in, and how we're building up to the 'right' time to have that break down.

"Still wondering how there is no dark lord or intrinsic villains in wizarding society that Harry fits into." I'm sure in the world there's been plenty of evil wizards since Grindelwald, just just none that affected Britain/her citizens on a large scale. (And thank you for all the reviews on various chapters less-than-three)

Again, and to bring it back to that first AN chunk there, thank you all for the support and big numbers.