Lysander Gets Acquainted with Alice, a Talking Locket Proves Genuinely Useful and Rodolphus Dreads His own Birthday
"How many windows do you think are broken back at Malfoy Manor?"
"Likely all of the downstairs windows."
"I'd say enough of them to probably make Lucy drink himself into a coma!"
Lysander and Rabastan snickered at Thorfinn's rather accurate wager. All three of them had counted their blessings that they had managed to sneak out of Malfoy Manor that morning, because they had left behind chaos of rather apocalyptic proportions. The day started off with a rather amusing letter from Severus Snape about Neville Longbottom apparently being taught the basics of the Druidic magic. It was safe to say that there were a few feeble attempts at trying not to laugh at the image of the dower Potions Master being hounded around the Hogwarts grounds by a giant, angry Cobra Lily.
"I knew Melpomene was a good choice," Augustus had not even tried to hide the fact he had been preening.
*Nagini thinks that Severus might be less inclined to be mean to the Neville hatchling now,* Nagini could not help observing.
As if the knowledge that Severus Snape may now have a Cobra Lily for a Boggart, it seemed that once more they had all gotten a bit too complacent and underestimated once more the diabolical mind of a certain sixteen-year-old wizard by the name of Harry I-Am-Determined-To-Make-Lucius-Lose-All-His-Hair Potter. Of all the things they could have guessed this pest could come up with, neither Lysander nor Rabastan nor Thorfinn thought that the new Lord Black – indeed, most of the Dark nigh on fainted when Narcissa, Bella and Mr. Mupples told them – would be downright barmy enough to send a Muggle opera teacher to Malfoy Manor.
Indeed, when Signore Rinaldi and his daughter arrived claiming to be there to teach everyone the basics to the art of opera singing, Lucius and Narcissa almost went blue in the face trying to explain to the pair that there must have been some kind of mix up while everyone else tried to not internally panic. Admittedly, the only ones who derived any amusement from this were Teddy Ruxpin, Nagini and Thalia, both of whom had to be forced to switch off their translators in case the Muggles got wind of two talking snakes. Naturally, Thalia had been quite difficult to persuade and outright bribery had to be used in order for her to comply. Teddy Ruxpin was buried in the sofa and then promptly sat on. Izzy, Phoebe and Sebastian had – much to the panic of the Greyback pack – had attempted to make Lord Voldemort himself look "less scary" for the two Muggles by putting a Darth Vader mask they had made out of cardboard onto his head.
You are probably wondering, and rightly so, how those three managed to get the 'mask' onto the head of the most dangerous Dark Lord since Gellert Grindelwald. Well, unfortunately for Lord Voldemort, they had managed to catch him literally off-guard, using their werewolf dexterity to jump into the air and jam the mask onto his head. While he had been quietly contemplating whether or not to Imperio the Muggles out of Malfoy Manor, he had not been using Legilimency to read the minds in the room. Izzy and her friends had sussed out days ago that 'Voldey-mort' went 'poking around' in their heads because the Dark Lord had managed to stop every single one of their cookie raids into the Malfoy pantry at exactly the planned times each time. Izzy, Phoebe, Sebastian and their friends had been miffed by that to say the least. Hence, they had quietly plotted to catch the Dark wizard off guard as part of a small revenge game. A game the Muggles had helped them to win that morning.
While Lord Voldemort tried to get the cardboard box off his head, while blaspheming away in Parseltongue, Thalia had tittered at the whole affair. *Who would have thought that the werewolf hatchlings would have a very good solution to this problem? Now Tom doesn't need to steal Mr. Fiennes's face to not scare the Muggles away!*
*THALIA, THIS IS NOT FUNNY!* the Dark Lord was not in agreement.
*Don't be Lord Grumpymort just because the hatchlings outsmarted you.*
*THEY DID NOT OUTSMART ME!*
*The Darth Vader mask says otherwise, Tom!*
The real fuss kicked off when Signore Rinaldi started to accuse the Malfoys of not only wasting his and his daughter's time, but also of swindling them out of money. While the Carrows, Jugson and Travers had been more than a little tempted to Crucio the opera teacher for his impertinence, but it was Bella, surprisingly, who vetoed that and insisted on a lesson for herself, at the very least, and anyone who wished to join. As if more shocks could not be delivered that morning, Balthazar willingly volunteered, as did Avior as well as Hannah and some of the werewolf children. Izzy amongst them, which convinced Augustus to join in.
Lysander had already quietly made up his mind to escape the Manor just as the vocal training exercises started – he swore at one point that perhaps the kittens were being strangled but it ended up being Bella – but what had made Rabastan and Thorfinn want to flee the Manor in order to save their own necks, was the delivery that came for Fenrir.
It seemed that the Boy-Who-Was-Going-To-Have-To-Buy-At-Least-Fifty-New-Pairs-of-Shoes had once again decided to throw his shoes into the ring with an angry Alpha because invitations to a dog show in Dublin had arrived at the Manor, delivered by another Royal Mail worker, addressed to Tyler Reed and his 'prize dog' Fenrir.
Antonin and Walden had Silenced the room where their friends were getting opera lessons to ensure that the Muggles within did not hear the bloodcurdling roars that came out of Fenrir's maw. Voldemort had tried to use a Body Bind in an attempt to stop the Alpha from charging out, but somehow Fenrir's blinding rage had ensured the spell practically bounced off him. What didn't bounce off him, was the wrought iron pan that Nagini used to knock him out.
*Phew! Nagini should have done that earlier,* the boa constrictor had commented to Thalia as Fenrir crumpled to the ground and was promptly pulled away by Reed and Mikah, downstairs to the Malfoy dungeons to keep Ollivander company for a little while. Until the Muggles left, at least.
Unbeknownst to everyone except Voldemort, Thalia had a joke lined up. *Well, even if Fenrir had managed to escape, it would mean a new film!*
*A new film?*
Voldemort had braced himself.
*Yes! Werewolves of Wiltshire!*
Though he had initially been as irritated as everyone else in the Manor, Lysander also counted his blessings for the diabolical little half-blood nuisance. Realising that with the entire Manor distracted, this was the opportune moment to finally make his own acquaintance with his father's new lady friend. Although their Lord had ordered Avior to introduce Lysander to Alice by the end of the month, the young Avery was getting extremely impatient. He knew he was likely to meet Alice on Samhain, and Lysander frankly did not want to risk his mother meeting Alice in case a ghost versus mortal fight broke out in the Manor.
Given how their luck went up until now, Lysander could practically see it happen already. More to the point, he now had his own developed 'Harry Senses' and they were blaring in his head. But he realised he didn't fancy coming off as a weird, creepy stalker to his potential young mother-in-law and thus had asked Rabastan and Thorfinn to come with him, since they too were determined to escape.
Rabastan and Thorfinn agreed immediately, fully knowing they were likely being skinned alive by Avior if he discovered what they were doing, but to them a skinning was well worth the risk. Currently, the three of them – fully disguised under Glamours – were making their way down Knockturn Alley towards the Ye Olde Curiosity Shop. Though the alley was a dreary and dingy as always, the three Death Munchers were in high spirits, even as they were forced to dodge spells being thrown out of the windows of the flats above.
"Damn. Someone's having a heavy exchange of views!" Rabastan commented as they dodged red sparks.
Thorfinn could not resist a snipe. "Well, I for one hope to witness what kind of exchange of views you and Reed will have in the future!"
Rabastan zapped his friend for that, his cheeks beetroot. "Shut it, Finn!"
Thorfinn only cackled triumphantly in reply. Lysander rolled his eyes. "At the risk of sounding like my father, could you two please behave in front of Miss Ferrars? I would rather not be booted out of her shop and having to wait for Father to grow a spine!"
"He was ordered to introduce her anyway!" Rabastan could not help but point out. "You're just being sulky."
"I am not!" Lysander huffed. "And besides, there are not many days left in October. Do you really think Father would comply with our Lord in the coming days? No! He will wait until Samhain and then risk a fight between Mother and his new lady!"
Thorfinn could not believe his ears. "I very much doubt Lady Avery will try to crawl out of the Underworld to haunt Alice Ferrars! Lysander, come on!"
"I can see Harry Potter and Team Prank releasing ghosts as a fun Samhain prank!" Lysander retorted. "No thank you!"
Neither Rabastan nor Thorfinn had a good answer to that one. Very soon, the three Death Munchers came to the antique store and almost instantly, all three brows started to furrow. The shop was closed.
Rabastan hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe she doesn't work today?" he suggested.
"Or she's having lunch?" Thorfinn threw in.
"Or she's off at some antique auction?" Lysander mused out loud.
Rabastan chuckled awkwardly. "Well … this was a very short reconnaissance mission!"
"Yeah," Thorfinn sighed softly and then lit up. "We could just go and see if we can get a drink at Prestige? I hear that they serve lunch these days."
Rabastan liked the sound of that. "A good thing I always keep money on me!"
Lysander, on the other hand, was not happy about this proposal at all. His jaw clenched for a moment. Unlike his friends, he was not going to simply give up and go home. He had no desire to throw in the towel because of a relatively minor set-back. But he knew he could not simply wait outside, and Lysander was not going to wait at Alice's front door.
Fortunately, it seemed that the Fates were on his side for a change.
Heading down the alley towards them, was Mr. Mulpepper. The three of them recognised him from Augustus's tale of when he bought Melpomene. The apothecary was carrying a few brown paper bags, humming to himself until he saw Lysander, Rabastan and Thorfinn outside Alice's shop.
"Gentlemen! May I help you? Are you here for Miss Ferrars?" he asked in an unusually upbeat tone.
"We are, sir," Lysander answered simply. "Would you happen to know where she is?"
"Yes! She's with another client at the Leaping Kelpie, so she may be a while," Mr. Mulpepper informed them. "Or if you're only a little early, I am sure she will not mind meeting you there first. Are you buying or selling, gentlemen?"
"Selling," the answer left Lysander almost without thinking.
"Wonderful! If you are unfamiliar with the Leaping Kelpie, it is just down the alley eight buildings on your left," the apothecary stated before he went on his way. "Good day, gentlemen!"
"Good day, sir!" the disguised Death Munchers chorused obediently before following Mr. Mulpepper's directions.
It did not take too long before Thorfinn voiced his thoughts again. "Of course Ferrars goes to the Leaping Kelpie – a hub for all kinds of characters with very little class to recommend them," he sneered. "The Gryffindor is still deeply embedded in that one – OWWW! Lysander!"
"Oh stop whinging, that was barely a full bolt!" Lysander retorted. "Don't disrespect her and I won't need to use your own spells against you, Finn."
Rabastan chuckled. "I am half hoping you don't like her, because if you're like this now, my friend, I would hate to see what you do to someone when you actually like her."
Lysander rolled his eyes but did not answer. He allowed a ghost of a smile form on his countenance for a moment before he composed himself. He did have a reputation to uphold after all, even though he was wearing a Glamour. But he did have to agree with Thorfinn that the Leaping Kelpie was not their usual scene. It was confirmed when the three of them entered the establishment.
There was a rustic quality to the interior, with a few Arthurian tapestries on the walls. There was a large portrait of a kelpie leaping out of a lake above the fireplace. Most of the booths and tables were taken, though, by all manner of folks. There was a young man and woman, both with odd amber eyes, working behind the bar and in the small kitchen. What really took Lysander, Rabastan and Thorfinn by surprise, was the sight of a fresh water dygfri – a rather rare water fairy – padding from table to table, checking on all the patrons and accepting pats. Lysander and Thorfinn were forced to take Rabastan to the only vacant table left before he started cooing out loud, which the young Lestrange was about to do.
Rabastan was not happy. "Come on, you two! Really? I just want to say hello! When do you ever see a fresh water dygfri up close these days?"
"You might scare the poor thing," Thorfinn could not help but tease.
"I will not!" Rabastan protested.
"You will if you continue making this much noise," Lysander smirked. He took a moment to take in his surroundings in order to track down any sign of Alice Ferrars and her client – only for him to have to double take when he realised that she was at the table right next to theirs.
And indeed, she was not alone. As if the Fates had adopted Harry Potter's pranking bug, Alice was in the company of a banshee child and a young woman with bubble-gum pink hair, dressed in a man's suit from the 1920s with an odd Victorian hat next to her on the bench. This hat, was decorated with gears. This Auror needed no introduction – Nymphadora Tonks. Quietly, Lysander had to admit to himself that Corban Yaxley had caught a decent catch amongst the half-bloods and blood traitors.
Thorfinn had noticed them too and busied himself with the menu. Rabastan, still internally sulking, preferred to watch the dygfri talk to a group of goblins seated close to the fireplace. Lysander tried to tune everyone else around them except for their lovely neighbours.
"-I don't know, Tonks. He is a tricky customer."
"Tricky customers are my speciality, Alice. We have a chance to catch a really big fish – one that will get Madam Bones more amenable to allow me to wear my dragon costume to work again, and one who has enough antiques to make customers and clients of yours happy. It's a win-win situation," Tonks answered jovially as she sipped her drink.
"And you're sure that he didn't recognise Orla?" Alice questioned further.
"Pffft. Please! The man has too much arrogance to pay attention to one urchin banshee," Tonks reassured. "Besides, Orla is very good at hiding."
A sharp kick from Thorfinn under the table knocked Lysander back to earth for a moment. Their waitress had arrived and Thorfinn had a strained smile on his face. "Veronica asked you a question!" he hissed.
Lysander promised Thorfinn internally a return on that kick. He smiled serenely up at their waitress. "A Butterbeer please."
The waitress made a note and hurried off to hand the order to the bar. While attempting to ignore the pointed look from Thorfinn and Rabastan's excited cooing and greetings to the dygfri – who had finally gotten to their table and had taken an interest in the new patrons – Lysander got back to eavesdropping.
"So your date with Corban Yaxley went well then?"
"Very well! We had a lot of fun – I am not kidding! I expected Corban to drag his heels most of the time but he didn't. In fact, he only refused to see the dead Diricawl because he cannot get past the fact the Muggles misidentified it," Tonks informed with a smirk as she sipped her smoothie. "So, how did your date with Avior Avery go?"
Lysander barely dared to breathe too loudly at this point.
"Well, we went to the opera. It was a unique piece but so beautiful," Alice confessed. Lysander dared to steal a look at her countenance and almost grinned at the blush. "Avior was a gentleman, before you ask. He was … refreshingly candid and genuinely funny."
Tonks spluttered at this point. "Avery?! Funny?!"
Lysander tried not to feel too offended on his father's behalf.
Alice rolled her eyes. "It's a dry sense of humour, but yes – I found him very amusing."
Tonks cleared her throat. "Well, to each their own I suppose! Humour is not Corban's thing so he doesn't even try." She took another sip of her smoothie. "So, will you go on another date with him?"
Alice did not take too long to answer, much to Lysander's delight. "I will, and I don't even need to ask you the same about Corban."
"Hey! I might say no!"
"That is about as likely as a Niffler leaving something shiny behind!"
Tonks had a look of faux offense on her countenance while Orla giggled. Lysander involuntarily snorted softly. The next question from Tonks, however, did very nearly made Lysander choke on his Butterbeer.
"If Avior asked you to meet his son, what would you say?"
For some reason, Lysander found his heartrate pick up rather quickly at this point. He didn't even dare to look in Alice's direction and tried to look as innocent as possible while drinking his Butterbeer, which made Thorfinn, Rabastan and the dygfri regard him with a look of considerable concern.
"Tonks, I don't think we are anywhere near that stage in the relationship yet," Alice replied, a deepening blush creeping onto her cheeks as she took a sudden interest in her own Butterbeer. "Meeting Avior's son – or anyone's child – isn't just something that gets offered easily."
"Exactly! It means it is serious, and according to Corban, Avior's got it pretty badly for you," Tonks's smirk only grew by the second. Orla continued to quietly enjoy the show between them. "You don't sound like some little fling, so, if he wanted to introduce you to his son, would you say yes?"
"Well, yes because it's important to him," Alice answered unequivocally. "But I doubt the guy would want to meet his father's much younger lady friend."
"Oh, I think Lysander might surprise you, and I never thought I would say that," Tonks had a knowing tone to her voice that genuinely made Lysander internally panic while downing his Butterbeer. "You never know, he not only wants to meet you but might actually put on a very lousy disguise in order to meet you."
OK, either she is very good at guessing, or she definitely knows, Lysander decided internally as he set down his glass.
Thorfinn, who had been watching the entire time, shook his head derisively at his friend. "You are rusty at this," was all he commented.
"Not really all that surprising, is it?" Lysander retorted sassily with a crooked grin.
Thorfinn did not get to answer and Alice did not have much time to question Tonks, because suddenly the door to the Leaping Kelpie crashed open, causing people to jump out of their skins and whirl around to look at who had made such an unceremonious entrance. Lysander, Thorfinn and Rabastan were amongst the ones who glared at the four wizards plus one goblin who had come in. All of them were in suits and dark trench coats, which made the disguised Death Munchers collectively pull a face.
The dygfri immediately sprang into a defensive stance, growling rather menacingly. Clearly it knew who these unwelcome guests were. The fairies behind the bar, however, were deceptively calm.
One of the wizards, a man with a moustache and a thick Birmingham accent, stepped forth. "Analeigh! Ossian! Business is good, I see!" he exclaimed with an air of menace that killed any jovial element that had previously been in the room.
"We have our days," Analeigh answered rather calmly.
"Then ya won't begrudge us our share then," the wizard sneered.
Lysander, Thorfinn and Rabastan could not believe what they were seeing. They had heard rumours of protection rackets growing in Knockturn Alley from fellow inmates at Azkaban but they had taken most of the stories with a pinch of salt. After all, Azkaban inmates did not have the best reputation when it came to telling the truth. Apparently, the tales were not as tall as the three of them had initially thought.
All three of them had clenched jaws when Analeigh handed over a few Galleons and a few Knuts. This did not make the butthole in a trench coat very happy. "Where's the rest of it?" he demanded in a deadly quiet tone.
"That's all we have," came the easy reply from Ossian.
"Well, it ain't enough," the gangster made the mistake of pulling his wand.
It went flying out of his hand in seconds, ricocheting into the antique alcohol cabinet nearby. The gangster and his goons rounded on the culprit, set to make them pay, until their eyes landed on Tonks, who had her wand drawn and a dark, playful smirk on her face. "Well, well," she said in a manner that reminded Lysander of Maleficent. "Gregor Selwyn! Does your cousin know what you are up to, picking on independent businesses in such an uncivilised manner?"
Cold laughter ran around the room. "Would ya look at this boys? This one knows things that can get her killed," Gregor Selwyn sneered, which made Lysander, Thorfinn and Rabastan discreetly pull out their own wands.
All three knew that if Tonks got hurt and Corban ever discovered that they had been there to help or stop these good-for-nothing dregs, Boglins would be the least of their worries. However, they did not act just yet, for Tonks started to chuckle mirthlessly.
"Come now, Gregor, don't play coy with me," Tonks taunted playfully, juggling her wand from one hand to the other, even as Selwyn's men kept theirs firmly trained on her. "We both know that my friends and I have ensured that enough of your men have landed a nice cozy cell in Azkaban."
That fact got a twitch in the face of Selwyn. Lysander's jaw clenched; anger, and then recognition spread over the gangster's face. "Nymphadora Tonks," one of Selwyn's men hissed. "Me older brother is servin' ten fucking years in that hell hole because of you!"
"Ah! Isiah! So this is where you have ended up?" Tonks was clearly enjoying herself at this point. "Well, well. If you keep this up, you will see your brother sooner than you think."
The taunt did exactly what the Auror wanted it to. Most of Selwyn's men were too busy restraining Isiah from doing something stupid, which gave Alice and Orla an opening. While the young banshee had decided to turn her scones into flying projectiles, hitting a fair few of them in the face, Alice had done something none of the Death Munchers had seen before. The antique collector had conjured butterflies, enlarged them and decorated their wings with Bluebell Flames. Unsurprisingly, when these giant insects with their wings on blue fire headed for them, several of Selwyn's men turned tail and ran screaming down the alley.
"COWARDS!" Selwyn roared before he made a foolish lunge towards Tonks.
Thorfinn had been ready for him. A bolt of silver edged with fire hit the gangster squarely in his chest, sending him flying across the room into the window. At this point, he, Lysander and Rabastan were also on their feet with an angry water fairy at their feet.
"Now, now," Thorfinn sneered. "Let us not resort to revolting Muggle tactics, Selwyn."
Gregor Selwyn picked himself off the ground, frothing at the mouth, glaring at the men who had not been scared off by the giant, flaming butterflies. "Don't just stand there! Put 'em all into the ground!"
It was at that precise moment a pie or two had been thrown into the faces of Gregor and his men, courtesy of Orla. The dygfri had uttered something akin to a battle cry and swiped at the goblin with her tail. Utter pandemonium followed from there – several of the thugs had been launched back into puddles and against walls of outside buildings by Knock-Back Jinxes and Stunning spells sent by patrons alike. Ossian and Analeigh used most of their spells to guard their shop from too much extensive damage while their staff threw heavy plates, food and spells alike. Tonks and Alice worked as a double team to cast Dancing Leg Charms and full Body-Bind Curses to allow Lysander and Rabastan to finish the unfortunates off with Ascendo and then Flipendo and Descendo several times. Thorfinn transfigured two men attempting to flee into chairs and then knocked them over the heads of their friends.
Most of the patrons had the good sense to duck under their tables and to not get involved, but a few others who clearly knew Selwyn and his goons were more than happy to assist in ridding the café of their presence.
Once or twice a curse or jinx fired by one of Selwyn's men almost hit Tonks or Alice, but the spells had either been caught by a spell fired by Rabastan or Lysander had managed to put a Shield up in front of Alice. It made Tonks regard the two of them with a look of undisguised surprise – confirming to Lysander that she did indeed know, or at least suspect, who they really were – while Alice shot them a grin.
"Thank you! Clearly, I am a little rustier than I would like to admit," she stated jovially to Lysander.
"You're welcome," Lysander smirked back a little. "And I don't think you're rusty in the slightest, ma'am."
"You're too kind, sir. You and your friends are very skilled indeed."
Lysander actually preened a little at that complement. "We have just had plenty of practise," he answered truthfully.
"I don't want to be a spoil sport," Rabastan piped in as he turned fire once more, "but we still have vermin to dispose of!"
Lysander and Alice did not need telling twice. They were back in fray soon enough, and helped Tonks bind as many of them as they could land their spells on, going so far as to chase some of Selwyn's fleeing men down into the darker depths of Knockturn Alley. More than enough of them managed to escape their grasp, though, much to the irritation of Lysander, Rabastan and Thorfinn.
"I think we may need to take up running again," Thorfinn grumbled as the three of them rejoined Tonks and Alice outside the Leaping Kelpie. "They got away."
"Doesn't matter. We got Selwyn. It will make Moody crack a half-smile at least," Tonks reassured with a cheeky grin. "I might even be allowed to wear my dragon costume to work again he'll be that happy!"
"Really?" Lysander sounded incredulous.
"Nah, probably not. But maybe Madam Bones can sweet-talk him," Tonks' grin had only grown at this point.
"I'll go and talk to Analeigh and Ossian," Alice decided to make herself scarce at this point. "I'll convince them to give the Aurors their statement."
"Doubt they will but it can't hurt to try. Thanks, Ali," Tonks replied. She watched Alice go back into the café before she turned back to the three disguised Death Munchers before looking directly at Lysander. "So, does your boss and your father know you are here, Avery?"
Lysander's guard went up a little. "No, they do not," he answered coolly. "We made our escape. Bella and some of the others are learning to sing opera. Courtesy of that Golden Boy your side holds so dear."
This made Tonks giggle. "I wish I could say that I pity you, but I really don't. Is Corban learning opera too?"
Rabastan snorted at how eager she sounded at that prospect. "Unfortunately not. He was lucky enough to be called into the Ministry on an urgent matter quite early this morning."
"Ah," Tonks seemed to be a little disappointed at that. "OK."
The three Death Munchers exchanged a look between them, but did not say anything.
"We will give him your regards if we see him," Thorfinn offered, his voice a little strained from attempting to be civil to an Order member.
Tonks nodded gingerly while internally debating something. "He hasn't … has he said anything about … wanting to go on another date?" she asked tentatively after a little while.
The question actually did take the three of them by surprise.
"Well, he hasn't said anything about not wanting to see you again," Rabastan answered truthfully. "I think even if he did have a plan on taking you out again, he wouldn't tell any of us because he rightly will assume we will attempt to spy on him. Again."
Tonks caught that in seconds. "Again?" she repeated. Her eyes widened a little. "You mean to tell me that you shitheads spied on our first date?!"
"Eeeeeerrrrm …"
Well, shit, Lysander grumbled internally.
"You did, didn't you?!"
"Not us, per se – we sent Mr. Mupples, Teddy Ruxpin, Nagini and Thalia," Thorfinn found himself confessing.
That piece of information did not make matters much better. Tonks's hair was flame red at this point and her eyes flashed with a menace only those with Black blood could muster. It was the same look Bella got when she was truly angry. Lysander, Rabastan and Thorfinn all gulped and instinct shouted at them to make a run for it.
Which they did, followed by an irate Metamorphagus who sent Tickle Charm after Tickle Charm at them.
"DIDN'T YOUR PARENTS EVER TEACH YOU TO MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS?!"
"No they – hehehehehehe hahahahahahaha – didn't actually!" Thorfinn answered between tickle-induced splutters.
"HOW REMISS OF THEM!"
"We are – hehehehehehe – Slytherins and Ravenclaws! We don't – hahahahaha – know how to mind our own – hehehehehehehe – business, Nymphadora!" Rabastan attempted to protest.
"DO NOT CALL ME NYMPHADORA!"
Lysander, Rabastan and Thorfinn spent a further five minutes trying to lose Nymphadora Tonks before realising that the Metamorphagus was not going to simply tire any time soon, thus forcing them to Apparate back to Malfoy Manor earlier than they would have liked. All three of them were still feeling the effects of the Tickling Charm when they unsuccessfully snuck back into the house.
Fortunately, they were not caught by their Lord, who had once more gone to his study to work on plans and sulk, but they were by Avior and Wormtail. Avior had been giving sneering orders to Wormtail regarding laundry when Lysander, Rabastan and Thorfinn tried to tiptoe past them, with their Glamours now fully gone.
"Lysander! Rabastan! Thorfinn!" Avior called. "Where in Merlin's name have you been?! You are lucky our Lord did not need your services or-"
"I approve of her, Father – hehehehehe hahahahahaha – I approve!" was not the answer Avior had expected from his son as he and his friends fled up to their chambers to hide until further notice.
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Rodolphus Lestrange would have been absolutely ecstatic to know that, that morning, Harry and his dormmates had gotten a taste of their own medicine, in the form of the feathery comet ball that was Morpheus. Indeed, it was only a few minutes before all the alarms were set to go off – and Neville was the only one awake, studying his Druidic books and finishing last pieces of homework using Hermione's tips she had given the night before. He had deliberately set his own alarm a little earlier than normal so he would have enough time to work before his friends awoke with a cacophony of noise with Melpomene singing and the automaton nanny bird shooing them all into the showers. Neville had had barely enough time to look up and open the window when he heard something akin to an owl.
For only a moment Neville had been thoroughly confused – he had not had his morning coffee yet – but then his eyes widened as he realised which owl was likely heading in their direction. The fast-approaching hooting of Harry's permanently slumbering owl only confirmed Neville's suspicions. He had been on time, only just, and had felt the wind in his face as Morpheus zoomed into the room at break-wing speed, and had landed directly on the tummy of Ron, who, despite the fact he slept like the dead and snored like a bear in hibernation, shouted in surprise at the sudden weight falling on him.
Well, perhaps 'shouted' is not a strong enough word to describe the noise.
"SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDER!"
A surprising operatic shrill. Yes, that is more apt of a description. This predictable but incorrect exclamation resorted in Morpheus being flung into the air with a rather surprised and not-very-sleepy 'hooooooot' and onto the bed of Seamus, who woke with just as much of a start. Seamus jumped about five feet into the air while babbling and blaspheming in Irish and English. Neville and Dean set about trying to get Ron and Seamus to stop panicking mid waking up while Harry groggily sat up, put on his glasses and huffed.
"It's a good thing Colin is not in our year," he commented wryly. "He would already have a field day."
"Shut up, Harry!" Dean grumbled as Seamus got himself stuck in his own duvet and tried to untangle him from it.
Harry only smirked and chuckled, and then started to give Melpomene some water; he then begrudgingly took the brush Nanny handed to him with a stern look on her face.
"The bloody hell was that for, Morpheus?!" Ron demanded at the still-slumbering owl that was now gingerly clinging to the rafters of Seamus's four poster bed. By now, he had recovered and had been entirely convinced that what had fallen on him was not a giant spider with rollerblades or another of Aragog's spawn. "You could do us all a favour by keeping at least one eye open when you land!"
"… Hoooooot … Hoooot …"
"Just because a letter is urgent that doesn't give you the right to go over the flying limit!" Ron was as red as his hair by this point.
"Ron, I don't think owls have set flying speeds," Harry could not help but point out.
"No, but this one needs lessons in landing!" Ron stated, little Pig hooting in agreement.
Morpheus drooped a little more, clearly contrite 'hoooot', making Ron feel only a sliver of guilt for reacting the way that he did. Seamus, judging by the fact he was still ranting away in Irish as he headed to the shower, was less forgiving and not at all sorry that the owl's feelings may have been hurt ever so slightly. Neville and Dean offered the owl pats to make up for their not so warm welcome, which was appreciated as the contented 'hoooooot' indicated.
That was when Dean spied Morpheus's precious cargo.
"Harry, you have another letter," he announced as he tried it from the owl's leg. "I think Mulciber replied."
"Or he sent a hex in a letter," Ron could not help point out before letting out a jaw-breaking yawn as Dean passed the letter onto Harry. "Would be vigilant while opening that one, mate."
"At least it isn't a Howler, so I think that must be a good sign," Neville put in.
Part of Harry wondered if that was indeed not the best course to take. After all, he was still extremely touchy about the deaths of his loved ones – he could imagine that it was the same for Balthazar Mulciber. Harry had lost count the number of times he had hexed, cursed and jinxed a loose-tonged fool – mostly from Slytherin House – for asking the wrong questions or making the wrong remarks about his dead parents.
Perhaps keeping his wand at the ready was prudent …
I will find a way to make your soul suffer for all eternity for what you have put us through, Brat!
And of course, before Harry could finalise his decision about whether or not he should be guarded with Balthazar Mulciber's letter, Voldemort had opened the Link for a good old rant. Though slightly irritated by that, the Headache of The Dark smirked darkly.
What has gotten your wand in a knot this time, Grandpa? he asked in a faux sweet tone.
Don't play innocent with me, boy! Voldemort exploded. What possessed you to send Muggle opera teachers to the Manor?! Are those Muggles in those ridiculous vans not humiliation enough?
Ooooooo you let the teachers in, did you?
Clearly!
Without greeting them with a Cruciatus?
This is not funny, Harry!
On the contrary. It's hilarious!
Harry was indeed set to happily join in Melpomene's rendition of Lorcan D'Eath's Night at the Raveyard at this point. Wait … what is that I am hearing in the background … Are your little Death Munchers torturing the poor teachers?
No, then they would be making themselves useful! That is Bella's singing…
She sounds like a dying cat.
HARRY!
You're paying for any hearing aids needed, that is all I am going to say.
NO I AM NOT!
Stop being so stingy, Tom.
STOP CALLING ME THAT!
Fine. Be a spoil sport, Grandpa Tom.
Before Lord Voldemort could have another breakdown, Harry shut the Link quite quickly, really chuckling to himself this time. Ron, Dean and Neville, who were all preparing for the day ahead, just shook their heads in concern at their friend but knew better than to say anything. Except Seamus.
"Bullyin' Dark Lords again, Harry?"
"Yep!"
"Oh boy," was all Dean commented.
"What?" Harry attempted once more to look and sound as innocent as he could manage. "Grandpa interrupted my morning routine! It's just so rude."
The guys all snorted with laughter at that. Sometimes, they still needed to remind themselves that this was the new normal. But with everyone focused on something else and now firmly out of his business, Harry turned his attention onto Balthazar's letter. Taking his chance that Balthazar did not put a Burning Curse on the envelope, the Boy-Who-Knew-He-Was-Getting-Perhaps-Too-Trusting-While-Opening-Letters-From-His-Mortal-Enemies cut open the envelope with a Cutting Charm and then lifted out the letter.
Hello Harry,
Though you are a continuous thorn in all of our sides, somehow you never cease to surprise me and you don't surprise me at the very same time. Not many share your continued fascination with those who are your enemies and the enemies of your parents, godfather and the parents of many of your friends. Where it comes from, I would very much like to know. Call it my own dangerous curiosity, if you will. Seeing as you know a little bit about my own academic background, I am sure you already know this about me.
In exchange for a promise that you will indulge my curiosity, I will tell you the truth about Xander, and the night he was taken from me. Xander was the only child of mine to survive infancy, so I might have spoilt him a little, though it wasn't usually noticeable. He was a sweet, contentious boy with his mother's love of the arts, music especially. I had him trained in many instruments but of all, piano was his favourite. I did think at one point he spent more time on his music and the piano than he did his studies.
None of his friends made fun of him for it, which always came as a relief to me as I knew those boys and their fathers intimately well. Xander happily gave Narcissa and Andromeda Black lessons – Bella never took to it, unsurprisingly. Anyway, before I start rambling, when he left school, I expressed my wish for him to follow his friends into the ranks of the Dark Lord. However, Xander was more like his mother than me, and declared he would never take the Mark, but would never betray any of us to the Ministry or the Order of Flaming Chickens. Like Narcissa, he went Unmarked. I will not lie; the first time he stated his intentions, I was disappointed and angry.
Angry that my only son would not fight for our culture, our beliefs. But with each passing day, my ire dulled and Narcissa herself convinced me that, though, Unmarked, it did not mean Xander was any less loyal. Indeed, he very much was. He kept us very well informed on developments in places our Lord did not have a servant stationed yet. It did not take long for the Order of Flaming Chickens to develop suspicions about his allegiance, and eventually they decided he was … too much of a liability.
On the night of a concert held in the honour of Lycoris Black – a famous composer in our world – Xander had gone together with Antonin and Evan Rosier, both of whom had only begrudgingly agreed to go. Afterwards they had parted ways, for Antonin and Evan had wanted to get a drink at The Leaky Cauldron. Xander did not accompany them and instead had gone down Twistturn Alley, where he … had been followed. Tracked, by Gideon and Fabian Prewett. Why those boys were there, whether they had orders or they had seen an opportunity, it ended … with my son paying with his life.
It was later revealed to me that he had put up a fight. But Xander was never much of a dueller … I am not going to lie; I could hardly think or breathe after his death. Indeed, I was barely responsive to anyone, much to the irritation of our Lord. My only child was taken from me … and everyone was baying for blood. Antonin and Evan most of all, as they felt that they had not done enough to keep Xander with them. Or had put him in danger by going to the concert with him. Our Lord ordered Antonin to take care of the Prewett boys – they were thorns in our side, and Xander's death had been the last straw.
Let's just say that Antonin did not need convincing and he carried out our Lord's orders more than to the letter.
Do not ask me why Xander did not follow Antonin and Evan that night. I have no idea why, and Antonin refused to divulge anything. Not even our Lord could see it in his head … The worst part of this, is knowing my son had a secret before he died and he kept it from me. Likely fearing some kind of retribution.
I think I am rambling, aren't I? I have been reading too many of Rabastan's self-help books … Ignore me.
I hope this has given you and your friends sufficient clarity, because I doubt, I can go further into detail. My heart is simply not strong enough.
Balthazar Mulciber
P.S. Your letter opened some old wounds for Antonin, so if I could make a request – please cheer him up. Because I doubt that we will make him smile any time soon.
To say that Harry took a seat while reading Balthazar's letter, would be an understatement. As if the Death Muncher could not have surprised him even more by not putting a curse or a hex on the envelope, the letter began civilly. Of course, Harry expected some form of quid pro quo from Mulciber – he did not forget with whom he was dealing with – but Harry had not expected the full story for only a mere indulgence in curiosity.
And then there was the actual bombshell: Xander never took the Dark Mark. He was never a Death Eater in the first place! His only crime was staying silent to protect his father, and his friends, and for that he had been hunted down. Harry did not believe that Gideon and Fabian had been there accidentally, not for a single moment.
"You all right there, Harry?"
The dark irony was, it was Ron's voice that knocked Harry back to earth. The Boy-Who-Had-Just-Gotten-A-Nasty-Shock-To-The-System looked up at his best friend, who was looking back in concern. As was Neville.
"What is it, Harry? You look like you've seen a ghost," Neville frowned.
Gingerly, Harry held out the letter to the pair and did not say a word. Confused, Ron and Neville took it and read it in complete silence. By the time they had finished, they too had taken a seat on Harry's bed, the colour drained from their cheeks.
"Buggering hippogriffs," Ron commented with a dry throat. "Fred and George were right … Mum was not telling the truth…"
"No offence, Ron, but I think your mum does deserve a tiny prank or two," Neville stated before he could stop himself.
Ron looked like he wanted to protest, but he did not say anything to the contrary.
"All right! Who is next in the shower?" Dean asked jovially as he returned, only to find three of his friends looking as though they were more than set to go back to bed. "Guys, I don't want to be like Nanny and say we're already a little on the late side but … we are kinda late for breakfast as is …"
"I'll shower later," Ron decided and went to double check his bag.
Neville opted for the shower.
Harry, opted for staring out of the window a while longer before forcing himself to get dressed and check his bag for the day.
You're forgetting your quill and ink!
The Boy-Who-Might-Need-To-Break-Into-The-Restricted-Section-For-A-Book-on-Advanced-Occlumency for a moment thought that Voldemort had come back in strop, and had decided to be petulant. But then, Harry found himself frowning. The tone was not serpentine enough to be Lord Snakeface, nor was there any menace in the voice. No … this tone sounded velvety – almost … human. An arrogant, pompous human, but a human nonetheless. Younger too …
What the hell …?
Would you stop having an internal debate, and get your things? Your friend is right – you're late!
OK, Harry definitely now needed to know where the voice was coming from. Wait a minute … The Locket … Had Luna not called it Tommy? Grandpa's Locket spy …
Harry hurried to his desk and opened the drawer. Indeed, his Buckbeak feather quill, his best ink and the Locket were all nestled in there. Against his better judgement, the Chosen-By-Fate-To-Haunt-Voldemort's-Nightmares lifted all the items out.
Well, well, so you can indeed hear me, little brother.
Harry gave the Locket a rather constipated look. I am fairly certain my parents did not secretly birth a bloody locket, he sassed.
Ah yes, I forgot … you do not know …
Great. Harry was stuck with a playful, snide, irritating version of Voldemort inside a locket. Wonderful.
There are many things I don't know, as a lot of people love to remind me. Care to be a bit more specific? Harry asked snarkily as he put the quill and ink into his bag and the Locket into his pocket.
The Locket did not like that. First you put me into that damn, dusty, creaking desk of yours and now you put me in darkness again! Put me around your neck this instant.
Eeeerm … no.
No?
No.
That answer agitated the Locket quite overtly. Why not?
This is your time out.
That answer left the talking piece of jewellery in rather stunned silence for a good moment. Harry chuckled to himself with glee as he followed his friends out of Gryffindor Tower towards the Great Hall, all the while trying to ignore its badgering pleas that came in rather annoying and regular intervals.
On top of that, Hermione was once more rather neurotic when it came to study plans and had demanded everyone's schedules so she could get on that. Then there was also Luna insisting to Harry that keeping Tommy in his pocket was a little claustrophobic, with Harry tempted to remind Luna that Tommy was a Locket. However he also knew that would cause more trouble, and frankly, the Boy-Who-Had-Enough-Trouble-On His-Plate As It Was really wanted to avoid some of it, for once.
Unless of course, he was likely to get bored again.
Though, that was funnily enough very unlikely at present, because Tommy the Talking Locket did not give up with pushing Harry's buttons. Indeed, during each and every single lesson, he found that he had an extra working partner with Hermione level intelligence and knowledge and twice the know-it-all attitude. Every lesson, Tommy would point Harry to the answers and start ranting about the 'poor quality of sufficient explanation' in each book.
Except in Potions. The Half-Blood Prince's book actually managed to get the rare compliment from the ever-critical piece of jewellery.
You know you have Abraxan manure for brains when your audience knows the recipes and potions better than you.
Sectumsempra, huh? For enemies? That sounds rather useful … why have I never heard of it?
WHY DID NO ONE ATTEMPT TO CRUSH THE BEAN BEFORE?!
Harry massaged his temples. I will crush you if you don't pipe down!
Put me around your neck and I will, the Locket attempted to bribe.
It was at this point that the thought of pranking a piece of talking jewellery crossed the mind of the Boy-Who-Was-Now-Stuck-With-A-Persistent-Talking-Locket.
What is your damn obsession about being worn? Harry demanded.
What? It is in my nature, the Locket sounded too sweet to be genuinely innocent. Plus, I just want to take an eency, weency, tiny little peep into your heart. That's all.
That sounds dodgy.
In more ways than one!
Tommy the Locket huffed. How else am I supposed to suss people out and play around a little with their emotions? Going straight for the mind is so boring.
That made Harry smirk only a little. So, Tommy knew to have a little fun – questionable fun, but fun nonetheless. That was good to know.
So, will you put me around your neck now, little brother?
No.
Fun or not, Harry was not entirely suicidal.
Tommy thus continued to pout and throw a strop that was eerily remnant of Grandpa's little temper tantrums, only far less explosive and much more … childish. Harry found Tommy would still provide unsolicited help with his classwork and homework, through rather gritted chains, and rant at inconvenient times about the amount of "dark places" people put him into. Through plenty of mental images, he managed to tune out the Locket for a good few hours.
Before the Boy-Who-Was-Contemplating-Defenestrating-Tommy-the-Locket could act on his darker impulses, another feeling tickled him. Going to Dumbledore's office to see Fawkes the phoenix and seeing if the Secret Spiller had managed to catch anything juicy enough for Theo Nott. He had made a deal, and Harry usually kept his word.
Plus, he did have a free period to enjoy now …
Very soon, Tommy noticed that they were suddenly changing direction. Where are we going now? he demanded. You should be going to the library!
Do NOT turn into a second Hermione! Harry warned. I will make you regret the day you were born – I mean, made.
Well, it rather sounds like this Hermione person has her head on her shoulders at the very least! Tommy sniffed indignantly.
Harry found himself snorting; a Dark artefact complimenting his sister-from-another-family was definitely a new one. Yes, she does.
"Hello, General! Hello, Tommy!"
The Snake in Lion robes found himself grinding to a rather surprised halt when he heard the sing-song tones of Luna approaching from behind. The surprise at being addressed was enough to silence Tommy for a moment. A small smirk carved itself onto Harry's countenance when he noticed that his dotty Ravenclaw friend had a rather calculating look in her eyes.
"Hello, Luna! How can we be of service?"
"I know you had planned to go to Dumbledore's office for Nott and to check what costume Fawkes is wearing this time – it is a Dutch tulip seller – but I could use yours and Tommy's assistance with something," Luna explained. "I need to find something important but it's in Slughorn's office. I have a couple of clues as to where, but I need someone to either keep an eye out or distract Slughorn enough for him to ignore me."
Nagini was not exaggerating when she said you have some very diabolical friends, Tommy found himself commenting.
"Nagini told you about us, huh?" Harry found himself preening internally.
"I suspect that was his only source of entertainment," Luna smirked.
Oh, your friend is on the mark there! Or I had to listen to my … other self rant on and on and on about how he was going to send you the most horrific nightmares he could think of as retribution.
"Yep, that sounds about right!"
"What does, Harry?"
"Oh, just Grandpa making more nightmares to torture me with to get us back for making his followers a little bit more bearable," Harry answered brightly. "Which I welcome, because it has been a while since he and I played the game of Who Can Make The Weirdest Dream!"
You think it's a game?! If a locket could blanch, Tommy was now blanching.
The Boy-Who-Many-Believed-Should-Be-Sent-To-A-Mind-Healer ignored that exclamation in favour of turning to Luna. "So, what is so important in Slughorn's office that you need little old me and a talking locket to distract our favourite new talent collector?" he questioned eagerly.
Those silvery grey eyes shone with a mischievous light that Harry loved to see. "Well, I have been on a little quest – I discovered that a former student at Hogwarts with the initials 'XM' had hidden pieces of music they have composed around the castle that holds special meaning to them. The Nargles have been rather helpful in giving some clues for once; I found one piece in the main library and one in the Restricted Section. The third is apparently in Slughorn's office."
What are Nargles?
"Meaning," the diabolical, well-trained detective mind of the Chosen One To Keep Lord Voldemort on His Toes started to whir, ignoring Tommy's question, "that whomever 'XM' is, they knew our new Potions Master before he retired."
"And may have been a member of the Slug Club," Luna added happily.
Harry found himself getting excited too. "It's a cool quest! Did the Nargles tell you if this is the final piece, or is there one more you need to find?"
"One more, but that one will be quite tricky."
"Why?" Harry asked curiously.
"Because it can only be seen at night," came the rather cryptic answer.
Harry huffed. He should have foreseen this, really – it wasn't too surprising he failed Divination! But he knew better to press Luna when she clearly did not want to divulge her secrets, and the bright smile on her face told the Darkside's Bane that this was a quest that Luna would rather keep to herself for now.
Well, a chance to break into Slughorn's office and act as a decoy was too good an opportunity to pass up for Harry! It was far too much fun. Even if Slughorn wasn't there, the Boy-Who-Had-One-Too-Many-Tricks-Up-His-Robe-Sleeves had plenty of ways to keep the Potions Master at bay until Luna had finished tearing his office up. After all, the place was one giant apartment.
Harry was more than happy to let his friend take the lead on this one. He dutifully walked behind the dotty Ravenclaw as she practically skipped ahead. He did sneakily take his wand out from up his sleeves as Luna rapped her knuckles on the door of Slughorn's office.
Knocking the man out if he was not going to comply was always a valid option, after all.
That's not very Gryffindor of you, Harry, Tommy commented with a smirk, hearing that particular thought.
Shush.
You were meant to be put into Slytherin, weren't you?
I said, shush!
By the way, is your friend always so … funny?
Yes. Got a problem, Tommy?
No … Not at all.
It seemed the Locket for once sounded a little nervous.
"One minute if you please!" they all heard Slughorn call from inside. "I have just received a letter inviting me to the International Conference of Potions Masters and Alchemists and I need to confirm my attendance – Harry, my boy! Miss Lovegood!"
The door had flung open at this point, and the student collector had lit up once he had seen the Boy-Who-Kept-Death-Munchers-Lying-Awake-At-Night and Luna standing there, smiling as innocently as they could manage.
"What are you two doing here?"
"Well, sir, we had a bit of a Potions conundrum and since Professor Snape is not our best friend at the moment, we thought we came to see you!" Luna came up with a rather well-prepared excuse.
Harry quietly snorted at the idea of Snape ever being his best friend!
Fortunately, the excuse worked a treat. Slughorn happily ushered them into his extensive office. "Well, of course, I would be delighted to help, Miss Lovegood. What kind of Potion conundrum are you facing?"
Luna didn't immediately answer; Harry tried to come up with something – anything – just in case she didn't have a sufficient excuse prepared. However, his brain farted. He could ask Slughorn about Hair Potions, but the Potions Master would rightly become very suspicious.
Say you're wondering about the Angel's Trumpet Draught. He won't be able to resist talking about the witch who found an antidote to it.
Harry had not expected Tommy to come up with the goods!
Luna was indeed struggling to get words out of her mouth when the Saviour of Awkward Situations carefully piped up. "Well, sir, I did some reading not too long ago and I came across the Angel's Trumpy Draught-"
It seemed that the Locket had not been lying, because no sooner had the words left Harry's mouth, did the Potions Professor look as though all of his Yuletides had come all at once. "Oh, the Angel's Trumpet Draught! A rather gnarly little poison, don't you think so? Not even the Antidote of Uncommon Poisons could deal with it, you know? There is only one known cure – the Angel's Antidote! Did you know that I had the personal pleasure of teaching its inventor?"
It seemed that Tommy had not been kidding.
Harry's head was already throbbing as Slughorn continued to babble. "Francesca Wyatt had some of the best Potions and Alchemy results I have seen – she was always so intellectually curious. She spent quite a bit of time in the dungeons trying to improve Potions in her spare time. Of course I made sure to give her permission to avoid getting detentions and it paid off rather well!"
Make it stop … the Boy-Who-Was-Close-To-Knocking-Out-His-Potions-Professor whined.
I did warn you! Tommy chuckled.
Meanwhile, Luna had sent covert Revelios around the office, in an attempt to quickly locate the hidden sheet music. She quietly hoped that Harry wouldn't knock Slughorn out, no matter how tempting it truly was. It would be difficult to explain to Snape when he would come to visit Slughorn later …
"… so when she wrote to me saying that she had a functioning and working cure for the Angel's Trumpet Draught, I of course danced for joy and had her work submitted to Cauldron Bubble – after all, the editor owed me a favour or two …"
Luna herself was getting a bit of a pulsing headache at this point as she sent another Revelio around the room.
She saw something glimmer out of the corner of her. Luna turned to the right and saw that her spell had found something, right under the grand piano forte. The Ravenclaw eyed Harry and Slughorn for a moment to see what the Potions Master was doing – he was currently showing Harry every edition of the academic journals that mentioned Wyatt's research. Once she was certain that the Potions Master was sufficiently distracted, she quietly and carefully headed to the piano and got to her knees besides it and looked under it.
There, stuck to the bottom, were three pieces of sheet music. Luna smirked triumphantly. She reached up under the piano, straining a little to hook each one between her fingers and lift them down to her.
"… I took your mother, Severus and some of my finest students to hear dear Francesca when she was the primary speaker for one of the conferences you know! … Harry, dear boy, are you quite all right? Your eyes glazed over slightly…"
Uh oh.
Luna hid the music up her sleeve before she hurried back to where Slughorn and Harry were. As she already had Seen, Harry's wand had a Sleeping Spell fired up. She forced the General to lose concentration on the spell by elbowing him quite sharply in the ribs. "Wakey, wakey, Harry!" she said in a sing-song tone. "Professor Slughorn was giving you some more information on your mother."
Slughorn did look a little bit embarrassed at the fact he had gone on and on a bit. Harry forced himself to smile serenely. "Yes, thank you very much, sir! It was very kind of you to make time for us!"
The Potions Master beamed. "You're very welcome. Are you sure you have enough to work with, Harry?"
"More than plenty! Thank you, sir! Bye!"
The Boy-Who-Needed-To-Escape-Before-He-Put-Slughorn-To-Sleep-For-The-Coming-Day quickly grabbed Luna's hand and fled from the office before Slughorn managed to pull them both into a different conversation. Luna very nearly laughed at Harry's enthusiasm to escape and did so once they were completely out of Slughorn's earshot.
"That bad?" she teased him lightly.
"He was boring me to tears!" Harry wailed. He then reached into his pocket and glared at Tommy. "I am going to pay you back for that!"
Luna rolled her eyes. "Harry, don't blame Tommy for the fact his information was more correct than you bargained for."
The Boy-Who-Was-Still-Nursing-An-Annoying-Headache gave her a pointed look. "Please tell me that after all that you actually managed to get what you were looking for!"
The Ravenclaw smirked and then pulled the scrolls out of her sleeves to show him. Harry smirked right back. "Good job, Luna."
"Right back at you. And you too, Tommy!"
"He says you're welcome," Harry growled. "But he's not happy that you ruined his show."
Luna giggled. "He will get another one soon, I think!"
Harry snorted at that. Fair point!
###########################################################################
"Can we skip my birthday this year? Please?"
It was a dark day indeed whenever the word 'please' was heard uttered out of the mouth of Rodolphus Lestrange. It had only been a few hours since those blasted opera Muggles had left and finally the windows and mirrors were given some respite from the dulcet tones of Bella, Avior and the rest of the class. If there was one talent that was lacking from everyone in the house, it was singing. Currently, he was sitting with fertility clinic pamphlets in the parlour with Bella and Narcissa. Mr. Mupples was babysitting Tom the Cabbage Patch Kid, reading a book on Egyptian mythology. Rabastan was reading a book on Mayan mythologywhile Antonin was plotting pranks and designing spells. Augustus and Balthazar were watching mystery series on the TV with Thalia. The banana ball python had literally been grounded by Voldemort because she had gone around with her plane, hitting lower ranked Death Munchers with Walden's prank hammer, turning several of his followers into angry bunny rabbits, Shetland ponies and Highland cows.
It took a good half an hour to transform everyone back; Walden had been put on falcon duty as punishment under the Imperius Curse and earned himself four extra Boglins for helping Thalia pull it off. A very pissy Dark Lord had then plonked his misbehaving snake in between Augustus and Balthazar while confiscating her plane for the rest of the day.
How they had gotten more series so quickly, Rodolphus had no idea and he did not want to know, quite frankly. Reed had something about 'channels' but Rodolphus had tuned out that nonsense.
"I don't think that's possible, Dolph," Rabastan commented, not looking from his book. "Team Prank likely has something planned for you," he added with a smirk.
"That's what I am worried about!" Rodolphus huffed.
"Awwwww, come on, Rodolphus, what's the worst that can happen?" Antonin could not help but tease.
That earned him the Eyes of Death from the eldest Lestrange.
"They will give me a birthday trip surrounded by the damn Muggles!" Rodolphus exploded.
*Yes, but it is likely to be fun!* Thalia pointed out. *Do not turn into the Hatching Day Grump before your Hatching Day. It is bad luck.*
"No it isn't!" Rodolphus grumbled.
*Yes, it is!*
"Thalia's right – it turns you into an Excitement Eater," Antonin surprised everyone with the joke. Rabastan snorted quite loudly.
Thalia, however, pouted. *Antonin! Do not steal Thalia's material!*
The Russian grinned. "Sorry, Thalia. Couldn't resist."
"Yes, because it's in his blood," Rabastan could not help but commented.
"Shut it, Basti!" Antonin growled.
Thalia, though, tittered. *You had better start guarding your books and research then, Basti, before Antonin goes snooping!*
Antonin turned quite red. "You take that back, Thalia!"
*Or what? You bug Thalia's house?*
It was Bellatrix who surprisingly put a stop to Antonin making a retort. "If you're plotting another prank for Potter or one of his friends, let us in on it. Cissy and I have talked with Alecto and we agree at it is high time that they all get a taste of their own medicine."
"What? We book those children opera lessons?" Balthazar snorted.
"No. We plot together and pick one of those little itty-bitty babies that we haven't targeted yet," Bella smirked. "Little Longbottom for example. Or the Muggleborn, or Lovegood's kooky daughter."
"Sounds good to me, dear," Rodolphus concurred happily.
"Yes, because so far – our pranks to Potter have not made him or his friends suffer enough," Narcissa grumbled.
"Of course not. They're enjoying their mayhem," Augustus pointed out with a grin.
That statement was soon proven even more because soon Rhydian, Lydia and Crystal came bursting into the room, faces completely split by their grins. Crystal had something in her hands and they rushed to Rodolphus to give it to him. Already, the eldest Lestrange fell his heart sink.
"So, where are we going for Dolph's birthday?" Augustus mused out loud.
"It's been decided!" Rhydian announced with glee. "We are all going paintballing for Rodolphus's birthday!"
Kill me now and give me fifty Boglins, Rodolphus cursed internally. I would rather be Imperioed to wear yellow and pink!
*Aaaaaaand Rodolphus has turned into Heir Lepouty.*
That got a good chuckle from Augustus, Rabastan and Mr. Mupples. Rodolphus glowered at Thalia, who attempted to look as angelic as possible. It didn't really work, surprisingly, even with Thalia miming a halo around her head with her tail.
"Do I really want to know what paintballing is?" Balthazar dared to ask as he hung his head into his hand.
"You get to shoot people with pellets and bullets filled with paint and it can be quite painful," Lydia informed, attempting to bribe the more sadistic members of the Death Eaters into looking forward to it. Judging by the glint in the eyes of Bellatrix and Antonin at hearing that, it worked a little.
"Shoot?" Narcissa repeated. "As you wolves like to do with those NERF guns?"
"Similar to it, yes," Crystal confirmed. "Except you all get armour and we are then on this massive arena. You put yourself onto teams and by the end, the team with the most points is the winner!"
"I hate to say, but that does sound like fun," Rabastan grinned.
"Agreed!" Antonin already looked excited at the prospect.
"How undignified," Narcissa sniffed. "Can I not simply sit on the sidelines and watch?"
"No," Rodolphus growled petulantly. "If we all have to suffer, you will suffer along with us, dear sister."
"That's right! No exceptions!" Bellatrix giggled maniacally, causing her sister to give her a cold look and to huff indignantly. "We shall all have fun on dear Dolph's special day!"
"Which reminds me, I still need to get a present," Balthazar smirked.
"Same," Augustus too looked like he was plotting.
That did not cheer Rodolphus up at all. "So, I take it my one birthday wish for some bloody peace and quiet is not going to get listened to at all?"
"Nope!" everyone chorused happily.
The eldest Lestrange at this point had conjured a pillow and screamed quite loudly into it. Thalia tittered. *Rodolphus has gone from Heir Lepouty to Heir Lemopey!*
Rodolphus really lost it at this point. "THALIA!" he roared, steam coming out of his ears.
*And now he's Heir Leshouty.*
"Rodolphus Leshouty does fit."
"SHUT UP, ANTONIN!"
"You're currently proving the point."
"NO ONE ASKED YOU, AUGUSTUS!"
"DOLPH, PIPE DOWN! YOU'RE SCARING TOM!" Bellatrix's venomous snarl put a halt to the incessant teasing; steam was still coming out of Rodolphus's ears as he was forced to stew in his armchair, completely red in the face. Quiet chuckling ran around the room at his expense.
"I hate you all."
"Of course you do, Dolph," Rabastan shook his head at his older brother.
Rodolphus attempted to ignore his younger brother's gloating and the silent smugness that was going around the room, by thrusting the pamphlet he had been studying to his wife. "I say this one, Bells," he stated gruffly. "The Muggles look half-way competent – I cannot believe I just said that – and they have the highest success rate out of all the options."
"Really?!"
Bellatrix and Narcissa immediately took to studying that pamphlet for a second time and lay it down next to the others in order to do a thorough comparison.
*What kind of Hatching Day cake does Heir Leshouty want?*
Rodolphus gritted his teeth quite firmly.
"His favourite is red velvet," Rabastan easily supplied. "Leave the cake to Tyler and me, Thalia."
*OK, Antonin will deal with the balloons then.*
"I DO NOT WANT BALLOONS!" Rodolphus was extremely close to aneurysm at this point.
*Thalia learned from Amy and Alecto's Hatching Day that a Hatching Day cannot go without decorations and balloons, Rodolphus,* came the prim, cheeky answer.
Rodolphus found he suddenly had very little energy or patience to argue with the ball python. Instead he silently prayed that Harry I-Aim-To-Turn-My-Enemies-Silver-Haired-By-The-End-Of-The-Year Potter did not – absolutely did not – arrange for Dumbledore and his Order of Flaming Chickens to join them during paintballing as much as Rodolphus would love to shoot the lot of them.
Knowing the diabolical little half-blood, however, he may have already sent the invitations to Dumbledore and the others. That thought already made Rodolphus want to take a lie down and risk the ire of Lord Voldemort further.
After all, the Averys, Thorfinn and Yaxley were already doing that enough with their ridiculous little chase! Some of the words echoing around the Manor consisted of:
"Papa, you are blowing things out of proportion!"
"You went to spy on Alice, you cheeky blubberworm!"
"Corban, that's an antique! Do you want Lucy to have a nervous breakdown?"
"That ship has sailed, now come here and accept your fate!"
Rodolphus massaged his temples. It seemed that indeed he had been forsaken.
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That evening was eerily quiet even for Blaise and Millicent's standards. The two Snakes were risking severe punishment – not just merely detention at this point – in order to execute their latest art scheme. Down in the dungeons, close to the Slytherin common room, the Zabini Heir had discovered a room filled with interesting Dark artefacts and statues that frankly looked like they could use more than a simple dusting down. When her partner in crime had told of the strange place, Millicent had indeed been excited but also slightly apprehensive. Her father and mother had once told her stories that not only did Salazar Slytherin himself build hidden chambers within the castle but there was one room belonging to his younger sister.
Perhaps this was the room? But then, how had no one else found it before?
When Blaise and Millicent entered the small study-like room, the first thing they both noticed was that the air was perfumed with the heavy scent of Dark magic. Greens and silvers were all over the room, as well as effigies of snakes and dragons. It was impossible to escape. Millicent dropped her bag full of spray cans as she went to investigate their new surroundings. Blaise, however, had taken a few of his cans and had headed to a centuries old statue of a goddess he did not recognise, standing on a sigil he could not make out.
"Are you sure we should be here?" Millicent asked when she noticed that several of the untouched manuscripts were in a language that she could not read.
"Oh come on, Mill – you're not scared are you?" Blaise teased as he started to spray the dress of the goddess purple. "You wanted to come here as much as I did."
"Yeah," Millicent confirmed. "But I didn't think it would have books that I cannot read and feel like I have just stepped into the Dark Lord's study!"
Blaise still did not seem overly concerned. "It's fine, Millie! We'll just to do these statues and leave – we won't touch anything else."
"But-"
"Millie, come on! The sooner you get to work, the sooner we can get out of here."
The phrase 'famous last words' started swimming around Millicent's head, but not enough for her to be dissuaded. Though reluctant, Millicent got a few of her spray cans and set to work on one of the other goddess statues she found in the study. All the while, the feeling of apprehension only grew inside of her as she attempted to shove the feeling to deepest, darkest depths of her mind.
It was a pity that the young Slytherin did not listen to her own instincts, and even more so that her friend had refused to heed her warnings. Because if they had, perhaps they would have noticed the kind of sigils the statues had been standing on, and they would have noticed that they were watched by two pairs of glowing eyes coming from the statues that they had graffitied when they finally left.
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Uh oh … Blaise and Millie may really have done it this time! Graffitiing statues in a strange room? Not the most clever or cunning thing these two have done so far! As for Rodolphus, he is in for a rather chaotic birthday! One he will definitely be forced to remember. Stay tuned to find out what happens next time!
Also, to the reviewer who suggested the Death Munchers should give Team Prank a taste of their own medicine by targeting Harry's friends – love it and will get onto it in the coming chapters but first we have some mayhem to get through …
Hehehehehehehehehehehe *cough cough* I still have a bit of the whooping cough guys but I am almost out of the woods! Thank you again for all your support and patience with me. I will never be able to properly express how much it means to me, truly.
KingmakersUmbreon
