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"It's not real."
Harry looked over his shoulder and at Elaine upon hearing those words come free of her lips. Grindelwald, a man that most definitely hadn't looked close to Harry's age when last they'd met but now did, had seemed very real when he'd manifested at the opening of the 'final' passage.
He looked back where Grindelwald had been, and sure enough, the man was still standing there. "He looks pretty real to me," Harry said when he looked at Elaine again. "Why don't you think he is?"
Elaine rose a brow. "I've been meddling with this magic far longer, much like rituals and rites the likes of which you know very little about, for now. Believe me, when I declare with the utmost confidence, he's not truly present. Were he, I imagine he'd not be standing so passively."
"So it's a trap," Harry said, righting himself and coming free of her grasp. "What do you think it'll do if we attacked it?"
"There are a great many things he might have set for conditions should we have fallen for it. Mayhaps beyond the illusion, there's a ward or magic that would cause a reaction, or perhaps the spell you cast would have struck something we don't see," Elaine cocked her head. "There's even the chance it's… part of what we're looking for. I've read that Horcruxes might project themselves outward, the strength reportedly varies."
The journal. I remember the journal projecting Tom as if he were just as real as I'd been at the time. They're not stupid… we'll need to be careful.
"You're absolutely certain he's not returned again?"
Elaine looked over at the figure, still as it was, and nodded once. "My belief in what I've said is unwavering. Were he returned as you might think, he'd not have waited around to fight you and I at the same time, not when he's proven inept at handling us so long as we're together."
Harry supposed that was true. In a one-on-one, or when Harry had fought Grindelwald with somebody other than Elaine by his side, especially during the early stages of the war when there was plenty of violence and little time to train the Aurors, he'd lose; that huge battle when they'd hunted down Grindelwalds most devout came to mind. That fight, it shouldn't have been taken.
Nothing could be done to change that, but he'd learned from it, and if another conflict came into being, he knew better now. "You raise a good point. What're we going to do, brush past him? Well, after you've checked for any traps of the non-Muggle variety, that is."
"I believe that'd be for the best, yes. We've already spent far more time down in this expansive fort than I'd have liked," Elaine looked around disdainfully, the earlier playfulness and intrigue finally having worn off. "I do believe we'll have nought but one more piece of his soul left to destroy after we've secured this one, and afterwards, we'll be able to consolidate power as we'd like."
Harry supposed that was one way to say enforce peace and wrap up the many loose ends they'd acquired throughout the years they'd had to get to know one another, and by Merlin, were there plenty. Hogwarts, or more specifically, Slytherin's Study was one such issue that bothered him even now, especially the portrait of a 'younger' Slytherin. Beyond that, there were the rituals Elaine had done and her constant desire not to discuss them.
He knew of one she'd done, and he'd spoken with Slughorn Senior about it sparsely, but he'd made little headway before Grindelwald's sudden attack. It was almost strange to think with the destruction of Grindelwald, a vast amount of time would open up for Harry, Elaine and all of the others; there'd be no more conflict. Harry could even afford to speak with Corene and Elaine's mutual relative as well as the Potters, Marcus and the Goldhorns… he still needed the cloak as well.
That'd be a conversation.
"You're swimming in that expansive mind of yours, aren't you?"
Harry blinked and found himself looking into the eyes, deep and dark as ever, of Elaine. There was a foot of distance, if even that, between them.
"Just doing a bit of thinking, is all," he answered as he refocused his attention on the figure at the far end of the passage. "Did you already clear it for traps?"
Elaine shook her head.
With a gesture and a — hopefully — charming smile, Harry spoke. "Ladies first."
"One of these days I'll make certain your confidence in clearing traps. I do so hope you're ready. I imagine I'll use a reward system, one you'll love," Elaine, whilst speaking to him with her attention focused thereon as well, was simply flicking her wand whilst she spoke. It was like the magic she was working was so easy, that it didn't so much as warrant an ounce of her attention.
He'd always known she was powerful and well-versed in all things magical, so he supposed the show was more for the sake of the others than for him. Why, well, he imagined she just felt like showing off; this was Elaine, after all.
"And?"
"Not so much as a ward," Elaine returned her wand to its holster and held out an arm in that familiar, looped shape. "Escort me?"
Harry shot her a knowing look, especially since this wasn't exactly the greatest time for one of her games, but he stepped forward and shortly thereafter, made to humour her. He'd done so many a time before, so what was one more instance of doing so?
"I'm curious," he said as they slowly strolled down this final passage. "Just how much do you know about Horcruxes? How long have you been studying them? I feel like you've known of them before we suspected Grindelwald of having created them."
"Yaxley had made mention of them once before — you're aware of how strange he was all throughout Hogwarts, don't you? There was one such time that he raved on and on about a man worse than Grindelwald, one that would bring destruction unto us in terrible fashion, but as quickly as those tales had risen, they'd fallen off."
"But not before he spoke of Horcruxes?"
Elaine smiled at Harry. "Clever," she complimented. "And correct. This supposed wizard that was worse than Grindelwald created seven Horcruxes, with half a mind as to create thirteen, supposedly. I'd questioned others about Horcruxes after hearing the term and failing to find any mention of it throughout the Hogwarts library sans the use of the restricted section. As you can suspect, I was met with certain issues on account of my questions, until, I found a source that was willing to educate me."
Malfoy, maybe? Or Yaxley himself?
"Whatever happened to Yaxley? I thought you said he'd escape and was safe at one point, and then other people say he's dead — I've never seen a body."
Elaine opened her mouth… and closed it, and then she diverted her attention away from Harry altogether and over to the visage of a younger Grindelwald as they came to a stop a few feet away from him.
"Don't mind him," Elaine said, the words directed at Harry even as she looked at the youthful version of Grindelwald. "He'll not be able to stop us, and should he move, he may very well give away the precise location wherein he resides."
"You're not followers," the distorted voice of Grindelwald, young-sounding and menacing, said then.
Elaine tutted and reached out so as to brush her hand down the cheek of Grindelwald, but it fell through. "Followers of you? Never, my dear," she brought her hand back and made a show of flicking something off of it. "Consider us as something akin to your replacement, only more intelligent, powerful, young, energetic and liked."
Harry wasn't sure if Horcruxes could feel rage or emotions of any kind, but he imagined if they could, it'd certainly not appreciate the words that Elaine had spoken. Sure enough, as he imagined, the figure gave way to smoke that rapidly retreated towards a locket with a vial of some kind attached to it, and as it siphoned itself inwards, a light began to emana—
It was set awash with fire, and Harry, in a split-second decision, pulled back Elaine at the same time he summoned forth a shield to keep away the burst of flame that began to billow without containment. He registered books, scrolls, tomes and the like flying towards him, but none made contact with his person or Elaine's, and in a few seconds time, the two were back whence they'd come with a fire chasing after them. Thankfully, as they made their way back to the Aurors who'd dutifully held the rear, the fire was halted in its tracks with one wave of Harry's wand; the stone walls met one another, and the fire, he imagined, suffocated shortly thereafter.
He wouldn't know. None of them would. For in the seconds that followed, fifteen or thirty, Elaine gathered up the others, held aloft a large boot from her satchel, and then a pulling sensation tugged the lot of them away from the confines of the maze system they'd been in. In place of it, Harry found himself standing alongside the others with the lot of them looking at the familiar interior of Elaine's office.
"You had a portkey that whole time?"
Elaine raised a brow. "It was a series of inter-connected portkeys that would jump us rapidly from one location to the next in a very intricate fashion — you only noticed one?" she raised her nose, her lips rising. "How wondrous, my work."
Harry looked at her, at the others, and then at a nearby chair; the lattermost sight made for the best, and in an instant, he was collapsing into it with the sigh all men seemed to make as they did so.
"You're all relieved, go do whatever you need to before going home," Harry said to the Aurors who'd done much and more to gain his respect and appreciation. "Take tomorrow off too, will you? We'll manage a day without you, and I'll see to it that you all receive a bonus for the exemplary work you accomplished. Aster will know as well."
He received a series of sighs and 'thank yous' from the group, as did Elaine; one of the girls even hugged her, much to their mutual surprise, and then the couple were left alone in Elaine's office. Harry looked at Elaine curiously, wondering what her thoughts were, and beyond that, about the great myriad of things that still taunted him since they'd not been solved thus far.
"You're sure the fire destroyed the Horcrux, are you?"
Elaine, who'd sat down since the others had left, lazily rolled her head to look at him. "I'm the epitome of certain, thank you. Fiendfyre has a habit of destroying everything so long as it's given the proper freedom to do so, and Horcruxes have shown no special resilience to the flames."
"So one more?"
"One more."
Harry did as she'd done earlier. He opened his mouth to say something, but when words failed to materialise, he closed it. For one, fleeting moment, he'd thought about revealing what little he'd kept hidden from Elaine. Specifically the portion about a wizard that was supposedly worse than Grindelwald, and that had created Horcruxes of his own… was startlingly similar to what Harry had thought in recent times whensoever his mind returned to his old life.
But ultimately, now wasn't the time. He couldn't afford Elaine growing distracted on account of new information, nor could the Wizarding World as a whole. Not when victory was so very close.
"I'm of the opinion that a hot bath before a long rest might be best at this point," Elaine said aloud, her tone tired-sounding; she'd not guzzled down a half-dozen pepper-up potions thus far. "And then work resumes."
"And then work resumes," he echoed as he heaved himself to his feet and made to escort Elaine to the floo connection in her office.
Soon enough, they'd be home, clean and in the warmth of their bed, and on the morrow, their work would start all over again.
When Harry rose the following day, he did so to a cold and empty bed. Elaine had already gone off to the Ministry, he assumed, and if that were the case, she'd be there until late in the evening like she always was. Hopefully, in the time they'd have back, the search regarding Grindelwald's final Horcrux wouldn't take all that long. Harry wanted to get it over with, all of it.
He couldn't well do that if there was the threat of the man returning, and there still was. In fact, the two Horcruxes they'd gotten so far likely hadn't been the final one he'd created. No, it was the final of the three that was likely still out and about, and it'd be that one, naturally and even before the destruction of the others, that'd be used to restore some semblance of life to Grindelwald; from what he understood, the rebirth of one through a Horcrux left them weaker than they'd otherwise be.
Harry rolled over in his bed, looked at the vast field, empty and well-kept as ever, and then heaved himself out of the bed. He wouldn't spend the day idly, he'd focus on his studies and take advantage of the time he had to work with. Merlin knows Elaine did the same whensoever they had time together. There was seldom a time when a book, tome or scroll wasn't within a few meters of them.
I think I fancy myself a little stroll into the basement, Harry thought as he pulled the covers back up the bed, fixing the messiness of it in some small part. If she's been up to anything recently, it'd be down there.
And so that was where Harry went. He was aware of just how oft she utilised the potions quarters in the basement, and with the vastness thereof, he imagined it wasn't too hard for her to have set up some sort of workshop. Mayhaps one wherein she'd store additional items and the like; his mind thought of her plans to capture a Horcrux and return Grindelwald, maybe, just maybe, she'd already partially completed someplace to store him in the depths of the home.
Weird as it was to say, Harry wouldn't have been all that surprised if that were the case. Elaine was exceedingly cunning and always thinking, and so long as he didn't ask her about something, she'd not offer up information randomly. He still had so many things to press her on, and as of recently, one, her father, was really beginning to weigh on his mind.
Harry pulled open the door to the basement and peered down into the darkness below, that familiar smell of dankness reaching his nose in all but a second as he did so. Unlike was usual, the place didn't have torches going, and the air did seem a touch staler than when last he'd gone down with Elaine.
I suppose she's not gone down since we've returned, and she hadn't gone down a couple of days before that either. Nothing too important, then.
Still, Harry pushed ahead, a genuine sense of curiosity the driving force behind his doing so. Shortly thereafter that push, he saw the familiar cauldrons, bottles and ingredients — even his potion knife was still out — splayed across various tables. They'd not cleaned up since their last use of the lab… that was right. Laddey and the others weren't allowed down either, despite their best wishes.
It was for their safety; who knew what Elaine would bring down and what potions or items they'd have otherwise stored in the depths of the home? One thing was certain, if he and Elaine ever had kids, they'd make sure the entrance to the basement was locked. That'd be an absolute necessity, especially if they inherited so much as half of his affinity for danger or half of Elaine's ambitions.
Merlin, he could imagine the trouble they'd get into already. He'd have to keep them out of Slytherin, and away from the dungeons or the girls' bathroom wherein the entrance to the Chamber was. He didn't need any children that he and Elaine had to get mixed up with anything they might learn from either location.
To think I'd find myself thinking about children with Elaine years from the time in which I'd been sent here, Harry mused as he continued down the expansive space that was his basement, lighting the torches along the way with lazy flicks of his wand. I don't think I'd believe anybody. Not even myself if I time-travelled to say as much.
Harry snickered to himself, and after not more than a dozen steps, he came to a pause, turned at a ninety-degree angle, and peered at a passage. This was one kept shut by a locked iron gate with bars that were oddly reminiscent of a prison. He lit the nearest torch so as to get more light into the room, and upon doing so, he realised just what it was that'd been firmly fixed shut.
There, upon a series of tables and behind a second locked iron gate, were all the items they'd looted from multiple journeys seeking out Grindelwald's Horcruxes, and what looked to be scavenged items from the Battle of Hogwarts. Most of what seemed to come from the latter were broken, burned or in some rare cases, wholly intact wands.
It made for a particularly heavy sight, but he imagined those were trophies moreso than keepsakes of their own fallen; in that way, he felt it was a sort of justice.
Harry moved on after another few seconds peering in silence. There was more to go, and he needn't linger on something so sobering so early in the day. All of those texts, ancient as a great many of them were, wouldn't likely prove immediately helpful to Harry. Thus, he moved along, his feet carrying him ever down into the depths of his basement, past long-empty side passages and empty rooms alike.
In some instances, like when he'd been walking for nearly thirty seconds, he noticed little scratches or pictures crudely drawn onto the walls. He wasn't stupid, he knew it'd have been done by previous occupants no more than a few decades to a century ago — they could have even been more recent. He didn't exactly know what had happened when he'd manifested; for all he knew, he'd taken over somebody else's life.
He hoped that wasn't the case.
Harry held his wand out before him, the light of his Lumos carrying onward for a good distance before an end was finally in sight. Between him and that aforementioned end that was nearly twenty or thirty meters away was a drop from smooth stone to compact dirt. That drop was quite literally a drop too, and by his estimates, it'd twist an ankle if one wasn't careful.
For a few seconds, he debated going further along, especially when he saw the final extent of the basement wasn't quite as safe or up to his standards as the rest. That debate eventually gave way when, through careful inspection, he saw proof of recent activity that could only have come from one person. Elaine. She'd come this far and gone across the dirt path, and so his fate was sealed.
Harry went on after her steps, following the dirt and muck they'd dragged with them until he was at the far back left of the dirt portion of the basement. It didn't take him very long to find what Elaine most assuredly had, that being an older, small set of three stairs that led into a backroom that was partially buried.
Harry, crazy as it was to do, couldn't help himself. He followed after the steps in an instant, crawling right into the passage and squeezing his shoulders almost painfully to ensure he could fit. Within seconds after squeezing through, his eyes went wide as he took in what he'd found; runic inscriptions, various vials, tomes, scrolls — some of which were burnt — a giant cauldron, broken glass and finally, toward the very centre, a bloodied dagger.
Just what had Elaine gotten up to when I've been asleep? Why haven't I noticed any blood?
He was very tempted to record his findings, maybe even get a few pictures taken, but he didn't know what exactly it was that he was messing with. Elaine… he knew she was into rituals, a form of magic he knew little about, but this seemed far-fetched even for her, and decidedly far and away from the sort of middle road he'd been riding along on.
Anytime something looked so evil, it usually was. Ron said that… or Neville?
Harry couldn't quite remember who had said it, in truth. It'd been far too long since last he spoke with any of his original friends; Hermione, Ron, Neville, they were all well and truly gone, he suspected. There wasn't any guarantee they'd come into being either, especially not anytime soon, there were still plenty of years before even the first amongst those he knew would be born considering their parents weren't yet around.
That was a strange thought. Stranger than most.
Harry withdrew from the room with his mind full of thoughts about what he'd just seen. He knew he was relatively inept when it came to rituals, rites and other such magic, but it wasn't exactly the easiest area to study. Much of the magic was kept tucked away in familial libraries after most rituals and rites of the 'old way' were deemed too dangerous or 'inherently dark'. Some of them, granted, were quite horrible, but there were others that he'd have done if he could.
With one last glance at whence he'd come, Harry turned and started back towards the staircase. He'd seen what he wanted to, and it was enough to tell him that Elaine was still going wholeheartedly toward her ambitions of grandeur. That wasn't especially welcome on account of the many factions she'd formed throughout her rush to power; he still remembered how some thought she'd strip Muggleborn of their rights whilst others thought she'd unify the country and usher in an era of real prosperity.
He'd heard from her the latter was right and the former was something she'd said just in the hopes of receiving support. Considering what he knew of her alternate self, he took that promise with trepidation.
Harry closed the door to the basement and started off toward the Owlery next. The day was still very young, and there were plenty of letters to be sent out to his mates, old and new.
By the time Harry had finished writing a myriad of letters, his hand was sore and the ink had nearly gone dry. He'd written something for Slughorn Senior, Professor Slughorn, Corene, Aster, Daphne — he still wasn't sure why he included her —, Druella, Emilene and many more; even Ogg, the man with Hagrid's job received a letter, small as his little missive was.
Harry hoped the majority of them would respond to the letters he'd sent them quickly. Especially Marcus. Harry had met the Potters once before, and strange as the meeting had been, at the time, he thought he'd made a rather good first impression. He couldn't be certain of that considering how reclusive the Potters of this era seemed, but he'd try again.
It wasn't like they'd come to the Ministry. There was always the chance they'd fled the country like many other families had done throughout the conflict too. From what he'd overheard by way of Elaine, the population of the entire Magical British community had fallen by around ten per cent, and that loss, whilst only one in ten, was devastating.
Makes sense why the population was so low back in my time, and why so many classrooms were abandoned, Harry thought solemnly, the vast emptiness of Hogwarts back when he'd first attended making sense in a sad sort of way. The least we can do is give them peace. Merlin knows this will already be hard enough to move on from.
Harry sighed, flexed his hands a fair few times to get rid of the stiffness or lessen it, whatever would help, and then ran up the stairs until he found himself in his bedroom. From there, he washed, dressed and ascertained he was presentable before he raced back down the stairs and over to the Floo.
"Hogwarts," he said aloud, and with a burst of green flame, Harry was whisked away.
When next Harry opened his eyes, he found himself peering into the vast, well-decorated and incredibly old-looking Headmaster's Office. This time, however, he wasn't greeted with the frowning visage of Headmaster Dippet, but the person before him wasn't a stranger either.
Neither of them, as it turned out, was; he found that out when the second came into view.
"Professor Slughorn," Harry greeted, his eyes widening when he greeted the second. "Corene."
Professor Slughorn smiled wide and moved over to Harry with deceptive speed for a man of his stature, and make no mistake, he'd not shrunk in height nor weight in the time since Harry had last seen him. That jolly attitude was still running amuck too. "Harry Peverell, my boy!" he said loudly as a hand came to rest on Harry's shoulder. "What a pleasant surprise, to see you. I still can't believe how quickly you and Elaine have risen in the Ministry — celebrities, the pair of you, and it was I thought got to foster such ambitions. I tell you, it's the greatest joy a mentor might have, seeing his pupils do so well. Why, even your dear friend, Corene Carrow, has achieved much since last I saw her. I dare say, and I hope neither of you will repeat this, the three of you were my greatest students."
"I'll not so much as utter a word, Headmaster," Corene assured the man, her voice startlingly less girlish than when last he'd heard it, not all that long ago; she'd really grown up, they all had.
"Neither will I, sir," Harry then extended a hand to the man and smiled as a realisation dawned on him. "And congratulations on Headmaster, sir. Word had yet to reach Elaine and me of your appointment. So far as we knew, it was still Armando Dippet that was the Headmaster. I can't think of anybody more deserving of it than you."
Slughorn's smile grew almost impossibly large at Harry's flattery. "You're far too kind, and Horace, lad. You and Elaine each were always very respectful, much like our newest Professor, Miss Carrow. Perhaps a glass of wine one of these evenings? To make up for lost time."
Miss Carrow. I hadn't thought she'd wanted to teach at Hogwarts. It wasn't something she'd said previously, really, I remembered her quest for knowledge being what truly brought her to Elaine. It was like a treasure trove of tomes, wherever it might be, would always act as a compass regarding her actions.
"Congratulations, Corene," Harry said with that same smile now looking at her. "What subject are you teaching?"
"Charms. Horace—" Corene's head turned subtly so as to indicate the man, her actions as wasteless and fluent — machine-like — as ever. "—has promised me the Potions title when a suitable replacement for Charms has arisen."
Horace grinned and with a hand on his stomach, he spoke between fits of chuckles. "Once you've gotten to a venerable age such as I, you'll understand the desire to be off of your feet, believe me. I've all I can do to hustle from cauldron to cauldron to make sure our newest students don't burn the castle to the ground."
Thoughts of an Irish boy flashed through Harry's mind, more specifically, thoughts along the lines of what Horace had just described, but they were gone as quickly as they'd come.
"A few years in the Ministry and I think I'll understand how you feel," Harry said with a series of nods before he clapped his hands together, softly, and looked betwixt the two as he spoke again. "I came by to check on the sewers in which Elaine, Corene, myself and others hid throughout the siege of Hogwarts. We think we've misplaced something, and we've traced it back to here… might I take a gander, sir?"
"Please," Horace said with a gesture at Corene. "You and the lovely Miss Carrow are free to traverse Hogwarts as much as you'd like, just don't forget about that wine one evening!"
And with a dip of his head at the jovial, fun-as-eve Professor turned newly-appointed Headmaster, Harry exited the room with Corene by his side.
"Congratulations, again," he said to her with a smaller, more casual and comfortable sort of smile. "I didn't know you wanted to work as a Professor."
"I work for knowledge, and where might I find more than among one of the grandest libraries with some of the wisest Professors to whom I now have unlimited access?" Corene cocked her head at him, her eyes, dark like Elaine's but sans the quality hers had, peered into his with only the illumination of torchlight on her face. "It's the perfect place of employment for one such as myself."
"Remind me before I leave that I've got something for you back at home, will you?" Harry asked, his mind shifting to the greatest gift he could give her; unlimited access to the Peverell library, one that'd been rapidly expanded by him and Elaine. "But, before that happens — you remember how to get to where we were, don't you?"
Corene blinked at him, her visage as expressionless and hard to read as ever, mayhaps more so than when she'd been younger. "One could hardly ever forget."
"Fair point, that," he agreed with a grin as he looped his arm through that of Corene's in a manner that'd long since become routine for Harry. Each and every witch of this time seemed to expect it, even the Muggleborn. He supposed they're been more unification back in this time. "Charms?"
Corene cocked her head at him, and seeing such a look was enough to make him grin like an idiot. He hadn't realised just how much he missed Corene's company, and he imagined were Aster here and messing about as he usually did, he'd say the same about the other boy. Life had simply changed so much in nought but a year that so much had become unrecognisable.
"You'd like an explanation beyond that which I gave you earlier."
He shrugged. "I just like small talk. Remember that old classroom and the hot chocolate?"
"Another memory I'd be hard-pressed to forget," Corene said unblinkingly. "Do you seek out an ulterior motive for my being here, or is your innate curiosity so extreme now?"
And back and forth the two played, Corene's lips aloft as high as ever they'd go whilst Harry chuckled not less than a dozen times in the time it took for them to reach the old girls' bathroom. As one might suspect upon reaching the aforementioned place, it was flooded by the ghost of Myrtle, but unlike previous times, there were no ghastly moans or whimpers. Just silence save for the trickling of water.
It was certainly quite the eerie place, and very unassuming. Without prior knowledge or a reason to step inside of the old bathroom, one would never suspect the area and what it housed within. Slytherin had been quite the clever man indeed.
"You'll need to speak if we're to be granted access in this manner," Corene said as she flicked her hand, the doors behind them closing shut with an echoing noise. "Is the guardian still sleeping?"
Unless Elaine's woke it up, I'd say so.
"Yeah, it's still asleep," Harry said aloud before he spoke a second time, only rather than English, he was speaking in parseltongue. In seconds, mechanisms began to sound off in order until the area before them, opened up, with no small amount of water following down the path they'd soon take.
Well, the stairs of the path. They'd not be going down the slide like he'd done once before. Harry wasn't as young as he'd once been, and he certainly didn't fancy risking a rolled ankle even if magic could fix it. Corene probably wouldn't have been very fond if he suggested they take the chute either.
"What's the true reason for your visit?" Corene asked as she waited for the stairs to appear from whence they were hidden. Her voice, as could always be said, lacked an edge or tone, instead, conveying itself as completely neutral. As for her gaze, it was much the same, only her lips were still raised in such a way that showed her manner was decidedly friendly.
He'd come to know enough about Corene to read that much, at the very least.
"I wanted to visit the area we'd all stayed, particularly the back right room in which there were journals and books," Harry said. "You're welcome to read them while I'm down there if you'd like. I'm not sure if Elaine ever gave you permission, but they're as much mine as they are hers — we just won't take anything, yeah?"
Corene agreed with an initial nod far faster than he'd have expected, and a verbal answer followed a few seconds after. "Elaine hadn't given me permission when last we were down there to peruse the collection sans a guardian. If you're now granting permission for me to do so on the condition I take nothing, I agree. Might I ask if notes are fine?"
"Take however many notes you'd like. You're her cousin, and you're a great friend," Harry leaned forward to give her a partial side hug, and strangely enough, Corene went so far as to bring an arm up to return the gesture. He could barely contain a self-satisfied smile at having gotten her so far out of her shell from when first he knew her. "You should come over this week at some point. Elaine might not say as much, but she'd be glad to have you. You're family."
Corene cocked her head. "We're cousins, something which I'll say isn't exceedingly rare on account of our blood status," she paused, clearly thinking, and then she spoke again as her hands came to settle behind her as she started down the stairs; clearly she was confident enough in her steps not to utilise the railing. "Accepted — I'll not turn down your request, Harry. As you've said, you're a friend of the truest nature. The pacts our families have signed have done much and more for my own, and yours has risen greatly in power since your return. I would add such a private evening betwixt the three of us would be most welcome. Nostalgic."
He certainly agreed there. It was just too bad they'd not be able to rally that old group they'd had. Reinhard, he'd stay gone until the end time came for the lot of them, and Yaxley… nobody really seemed to know what happened to him. There was nothing but speculation, and he imagined even Corene and Elaine weren't entirely certain. If they were, the story wouldn't have changed as oft as it currently had.
There were even rumours that Yaxley had been a guest of honour as a meal once, and then there was the time when he'd heard Yaxley had been an inside man for Elaine. Merlin, the rumours ran abound and were all-encompassing.
"Aren't you coming?"
Corene's voice seemed strangely off. The quality, it took him nought but a second to recognise; eagerness. It seemed the thought of having her personal choice as to what she could read was really getting to her. He nearly snorted.
That thirst for knowledge had never so much as took a break in all the time he'd spent getting to know Corene. It was something she shared with Elaine, for neither cousin seemed remotely content to sit by idly whilst others were making advancements.
Maybe they'd return to how they'd once been when there wasn't so much stress still around. Harry could hope; Aster and Corene balanced out him and Elaine respectively.
"I'll never understand the why in regards to long, intricate halls or staircases that the Founders had," Corene said aloud, disdain evident in her words if not in her tone. "One can work wonders with magic and yet, they allow one to walk unharassed for vast expanses."
"There could have been traps here at one point."
"I, like Daphne, was with Elaine when first she stepped foot into this Chamber. There was seldom a trap the trio we made needed to disrupt, and little sign that there'd been others in previous eras. Like most, it would not be hard to think Salazar Slytherin was arrogant in his strength," Corene stopped, stepped aside and primly folded her hands before her as her eyes sought out his. "It would seem we've finally reached the end of the passage. As before, if you could."
Harry stepped forward, cleared his throat in the way all good showmen did and promptly spoke a sentence aloud in Parseltongue. It was nonsensible, but it was the one he'd heard Elaine utter when they'd first sought the place out all those months ago. And, as had happened with her, the stone passage slowly, almost painstakingly slowly, slid to the side to open the well-kept quarters within to the world at large.
It looked pristine, and any damage from the siege of Hogwarts itself had long since been done away with. Even the sheets, the scrap and the trash that'd been left behind were now cleared. Harry was impressed by how quickly it'd all happened, and he wondered when Elaine had gotten around to fixing the place back up to such a pristine quality.
As he'd long thought, she could work wonders with magic so quickly and so fiercely, it was hard to comprehend.
"You'll need to repeat the phrase at the entrance to the study. It was given a redundant security ward by Slytherin or those who came after him in the event that the rest of the quarters fell," Corene said as she passed by him, her lithe build squeezing past Harry's larger frame with nary a touch. Her hair, long and dark, was about the only thing that'd changed about her since he'd come to know her; her height, her build, her style, it'd all remained the same.
Some witches could kill to stay looking perpetually young.
"How do you know that?" he asked, curious as he made to follow after her to the entrance of the study.
Corene came to a stop to the left of the door and twirled, her stop not more than a second later as graceful as a ballerina. "Whensoever Elaine visited, I was oft near. She'd go in and remain within the study for hours unending, leaving Daphne and I to whatever work we'd brought with us at the time."
"Thanks again for the help with Ancient Runes and Arithmancy," he said abruptly and with a wince when he remembered how troublesome he'd initially been.
Even Hermione would have been frustrated with me, I bet.
"You repaid my tutoring with a vast assortment of chocolates," Corene stated, blinking at him. "Enough that I'd remained eating them for three months sans a break. That thanks was sufficient enough."
"Still love La Fudgerie, was it?" Harry asked.
"Yes. It is a taste of home. On Saint Pierre, the island my family hails from and the place which you visited once, we had an expert set up a personal pastry shop within our keep," Corene smiled and genuinely smiled as the memory must have played before her eyes. "Here, we've not done so, and so the chocolate gifted was a gesture kinder than you realised at the time."
"Couldn't yo—"
Corene shook her head. "I'll return whence my family comes from, eventually. It would be unwise to grow more attached to this land than I already am."
I don't want her to go.
Harry allowed that selfish thought to stay in his mind for a fair few seconds before, with great disdain, he kicked it away. If that was what Corene felt was best for her, and if that was the plan, he couldn't stop her even if he'd hate to see her go. Her, Reinhard, and Daphne returning to France — even if he didn't like her — it was like their group had shrunk considerably. That wasn't even taking into account Ash or Joseph, or even Cliff.
"The door, if you'd please?" Corene asked. "You should know I don't plan to leave for a considerable amount of time, as well. Elaine and you shall remain plagued by my company for years to come."
He had to swallow when he heard those words come from Corene. She wasn't usually empathetic or sociable, and so for her to say that, especially in a manner that was joking meant a lot to him.
Harry said the phrase, and as Corene moved past him, he smiled at her. There wasn't much that he felt he could say, but he hoped that smile conveyed how he felt. Her friendship, like Aster's, was a treasure to him. They'd been two of the three that'd truly gotten to know him beyond the surface of who he was.
"You return."
Slowly, Harry looked at the source of the voice, a portrait, that was above the door and of a much older, grey-haired Slytherin. One that was clearly reminiscent of how the man was oft seen in books.
He nodded, his thoughts no longer on Corene as he replied aloud.
"I have."