Thank you all who reviewed or bothered to read this!

I did promise bi-daily (is that right?) updates didn't I?

So here's the next chapter. Hey. Out of curiosity, do any of you watch Marvel: Agents of Shield? We've been recording it to watch every week. It's pretty interesting, and the setup reminds me a bit of Firefly, in that each episode is mostly its' own thing, but with a small underlying plot that is being built on slowly.

Now then, let's move on.

Enjoy.

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Muhammad more or less took everything in stride. He was familiar with the Imps, but not with Goblins, and though he had looked at them all with a raised eyebrow, he had said nothing. Harry went, first thing, into Diagon, and though many more of the shops were closed, and people seemed more frightened than ever, there didn't look to be too much trouble. A couple buildings looked as though they had been attacked, though some time ago, but the twins' shop wasn't one of them. The store was closed up now though, the door no longer open and the smiling sign long gone.

Harry was once again wearing the glamour of the woman, and had expected Muhammad to be amused by it, but the boy had not. He followed Harry to the shop with his mouth set into a grim line, and his brown eyes darting around them carefully. He studied the place, and his shoulders were so tense Harry worried the smallest noise would have the young man attacking someone. He had never seen Muhammad use magic, let alone offensively, but he knew he was capable of it, and being that he had gotten the impression that the young man had been raised by Mahdi, he had no doubt he had some skill in fighting.

Harry knocked on the shop door, and a panel at the top slid open. He couldn't see beyond it, but it closed quickly and there was the sound of turning bolts before the door opened up. Lee smiled thinly at him, his stance cautious, but stepped aside to let them in.

"I remember you. Here to see the twins again are you, Miss?" Harry hid a grimace behind a small smile of his own and nodded without a word. "Right. You can just head on back I imagine. They said to let you if you showed up again. He's with you right?" He pointed a thumb in Muhammad's direction, the young man in question eying Lee carefully.

"Yes."

"That's fine then. You'll keep him out of stuff won't you?" Harry nodded, and they headed through the store. It wasn't the same as it had been. There were no more pygmy puffs, and several of the newer looking products appeared nearly violent; aimed more towards actual defense than just pranks. Harry wasn't that surprised. The shop was quiet, empty, and Harry felt nervous when they reached the door to the back room. He touched on the presence at the back of his mind, and Mitera sent a wave of calm his way that felt like standing on a beach with his toes in the sand and water lapping up over his feet. Grounded, he calmed some and slipped through the door.

Muhammad followed, closing it behind him, and seemed to understand enough to be careful not to touch anything, which Harry was thankful for. The last thing they needed was for the young man to mess with some invention of the twins without knowing what it did and accidentally blow himself to kingdom come.

Harry sniffed at the air, his sense of smell hindered some by the glamour, and managed at least to determine that Fred and George were in the basement rather than the flat. Muhammad stood back when he walked to the door covered in warning labels and signs. There was noise on the other side. A sort of sizzling and the occasional clang or bump, and the teen knocked carefully. All the noises stopped, and then footsteps rapidly ascended towards the door. Harry took a step back as it swung open.

George looked paler than Harry remembered, and his hair had grown longer. He had it pulled up into a tie on top of his head that made the red strands flare out in a way that reminded him of a rooster's tail feathers. There was a hard set to his brow that had never been there before, and it remained even as his eyes lit up with recognition and a bright smile overtook his face. Harry was wrapped up in a hug before he knew what to do with himself. He smiled into George's chest and hugged him back. It was tight, like with Bruce, but George wasn't nearly so strong, and the teen held back his own strength a great deal more than then.

"You're back. You're really back." There was relief and a hint of desperation in his voice, and Harry's smile faltered. What had happened while he was gone? George pulled away and smiled down at him. Then he caught sight of Muhammad, and suddenly Harry was pushed behind him and his wand was out; his face set into hard lines and his posture threatening. Muhammad put his hands up placatingly.

"George! He's with me!" The redhead paused, and glanced back at Harry before lowering his wand. Harry sighed, and the other two eyed one another warily. "Why don't you go get Fred and I'll introduce you?"

"How 'bout you two come down instead." It didn't really sound like a suggestion, and Harry frowned. George was... Different. But the way he still stood protectively in front of the teen, and how automatically he had moved to protect him told Harry that they were still brothers, so he could allow the odd behavior.

"Alright." He glanced at Muhammad, who nodded, strangely appearing more relaxed now than he had in the street, and George gestured for them to go down first.

Harry had never been in the basement, and with good reason. All their experiments, all their in-progress inventions, happened down here. This was where they made things happen, and a lot of that was dangerous. Harry had joked with them about making things explode, but it wasn't just a joke. Explosions were common, and their work could go from fun and harmless to deadly very quickly.

The room was filled with all manner of things, various pieces of unfinished inventions, more than one cauldron, some of which were very much in use, bits of tubing and glass, and all manner of bits and bobs from magical items and creatures. There were vials upon vials of potion ingredients, unopened boxes, and... Were those weapons? Harry blinked. On one wall was a large rack filled with all sorts of things. Swords, daggers, axes, even a mace. There was a crossbow too, not unlike the one that Hagrid used, but smaller, and in the very center of the room was a large table with all sorts of things on it, and many stains on it and the surrounding floor from Merlin knew what. And there was Fred.

"Harry." He breathed, and then the teen was wrapped up in another hug. This one was longer though, and Fred shook as he hugged him. Harry swallowed past a lump in his throat and rubbed his back. "I thought... You said you would come back, you even sent the letter but I-" He sucked in a shaky breath and pulled Harry tighter. He hadn't thought Harry would really come back.

"Oh Fred..." Guilt churned inside him, and he knew for certain now that he had been gone much longer than he realized. When the redhead had calmed, he pulled away from Harry and wiped at his eyes, and Harry studied him. He was paler than his brother; his skin a stark white that made his freckles stand out unpleasantly on it, he wore the scarf the teen had given him, though it was scruffy and tattered and a bit dirty, and his hair...

Harry couldn't help but stare. In all the time he had known them, the twins had never made any effort to make themselves look different from one another. In fact, they had made every effort to make themselves look as similarly as they could. It was a game they played; wanting to be recognized as separate people, but doing everything they could to make it as difficult as possible for others to do so. But Fred's hair... Where George had grown his out, Fred had cut his hair short. Very short. It was barely a couple inches long, and was a messy bit of red fuzz and fluff on top of his head. It made him look a lot like Dad, who tended to keep his hair just as short, but it was so strange, for him; so completely off from his normal personality.

"Fred?" Harry's voice came out as barely a whisper. His brother looked down at him, and when he noticed where Harry's attention was, he grimaced and something in his eyes became very pained. It was George who answered.

"Percy and Charlie are dead." Harry closed his eyes, pain slicing through his heart like a flaming knife. That explained it then. He had never met Charlie, but in every picture of him, his hair had been long, long like George's now was; and Percy had always kept his hair short like dad's. This was their way of remembering them. Or paying penance.

He tore the glamour off with a snarl, twisting around and slamming his fists into the wall. Everything glass shook, and cracks appeared where he hit. Fury filled his body like a raging storm and he bared his teeth at the wall with a rumbling growl and a glare. His magic swirled angrily and flashed along his skin in a visible dance of green light. The glamour shattered, his wild magic rending the band useless, and it fell to the ground with a clatter. His tail lashed behind him like a whip.

Mitera touched his mind from her place at the back of it, and he felt water wrap around him in a calming embrace and ease his rage. It did nothing for the grief though, and Harry let out a cracked sob. He hadn't been close to either of them, but he still hurt, if not for himself, then for the Weasleys, who already had so little to begin with. Voldemort just kept taking and taking from them. He was just as much a Weasley as they were, regardless of his lack of red hair, and he knew how devastating this all must be for the his family.

He pushed aside his grief and turned to comfort the twins, knowing that they likely needed it.

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"How did it happen?" He sat on the familiar old armchair in their flat, Muhammad sitting in the one next to him, with the twins across from them. They had all calmed down, some, and now he wanted answers. Fred looked down in silence, and George put a hand on his shoulder while he explained.

"It was Greyback. He and some other werewolves attacked this little town, and Percy and Charlie and Remus and some others all went out to try and stop them. We went too. We thought we wouldn't have to worry so much, because it was daytime, but..." He swallowed. "I don't know how they did it, but there was something wrong with them. Their magic was tainted, and we could feel it in the air as soon as we got there. We started to fight them anyways, and we were doing okay, but then they changed. They changed like it was a full moon, but it was daytime!"

"They were wrong though." Fred whispered. "They were all wrong. Twisted..." He didn't elaborate, but Harry still felt a chill down his spine. The redhead rubbed at his side, and Harry watched the motion with a growing suspicion. Mitera told him nothing, and her silence felt strange to him.

"They got Percy and Charlie before we understood what was happening, and... They almost got Fred." The hand on his brother's shoulder gripped tighter. "They bit him Harry." The teen swallowed, and eyed Fred. "They almost killed him, but Remus got us out. He apparated us both away before they could kill us. Some of the others made it too..." But not all of them, went unsaid.

"Is Fred...?" George nodded, and Harry grit his teeth. That couldn't be easy for them.

"We both are." Harry blinked and stared at them, but George just looked at him, a strange glint in his eyes. He was... Defensive? Mitera sent him an image. A huge, reddish brown wolf was locked in a cage, and George stood outside of it. He put his arm in, and let it bite him, and pulled away as soon as he was able, a great portion of the skin on his arm being torn away. Harry swallowed. He understood. He knew them both well enough to. If one of them was suffering, and the other wouldn't be able to do anything about it, then the option they would take... Would be to join in the suffering, so the other wasn't alone in their pain.

"Alright." His acceptance seemed to startle them a little, but Fred looked back up, and George's tight expression eased, and that was the end of it. He wondered who it was that had been that had taken issue with their actions.

"So..." Harry looked at Fred. "Did you find..." He waved a hand. "Whatever it was you were looking for?"

"Yup."

"It wasn't him, was it?" Harry glanced at Muhammad.

"Not exactly, no." Both redheads gave him looks that made it clear he was to explain, and he sighed before beginning his tale.

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A scream filled the air and echoed off the stone walls and Harry laughed. It was followed by many curses in Arabic, and the teen only laughed harder.

"... Harry?" He stifled his humor and turned. Draco stood near one of the entrances, and was looking from his standing form (he had actually landed on his feet for once) to the cussing Muhammad sprawled in the snow.

"Draco!" Harry left the young Arab behind to greet him. He stopped a few feet away.

"You're back." The blonde looked surprised, and Harry grumbled internally. What was it with people and thinking he wasn't coming back?

"Yea." Draco looked over his shoulder at Muhammad, who was busy trying to wipe the snow off his clothes.

"Who's he?"

"A friend. I'll introduce you later." Draco nodded and they stood there awkwardly for a minute.

"Welcome back." Harry smiled, the tension easing away.

"Thanks. How is everyone?" The Malfoy heir shrugged.

"We're alright. It's been hard sometimes, being so far away from everything that's happening, but it's been good here. Everyone's glad to be safe. No one's managed to find us or anything, and we haven't really had any problems."

"That's good. How's Oddball?" Draco chuckled.

"He kept trying to find you at first, but since he realized you weren't coming back right away he's mostly stayed in our rooms. He follows me when I'm in there but he hasn't come out much. He's fine I think, just misses you."

"And Metis?"

"Blaise says she's grown, but you'd have to ask him for details. She stays in his room mostly. He said she sleeps on his bed." Draco looked slightly horrified by the idea and Harry chuckled. Then he sobered, becoming a bit more serious.

"Has your dad found anything?" Draco straightened.

"I think he has, but I don't know the details. I don't know what you left for him to do, but he's been pretty tight lipped on the whole thing. I know he wants to talk to you though." Harry nodded. He would need to speak with Lucius anyways, but it was nice to have confirmation that he was keeping everything secret. It made him seem more trustworthy at least.

"Stupid fucking snow. It best be warm inside." Harry looked back at Muhammad, who glared at him, and he smirked. It was kind of nice to have the situation reversed for once. He pulled a couple cigarettes from his pocket and lit them; tossing one to the young Arab.

"Here." Muhammad grumbled, but calmed once he took the first puff at least, and Harry snickered while he smoked his own. He turned back to Draco, who looked between the two of them, and at the cancer sticks curiously, and motioned the blonde inside.

They went in together, and Harry hummed to himself as the power of the wards washed over him. He would miss Oman, and Mahdi, and Sa'id, and Bruce, but he was glad to be home all the same. Maybe it hadn't started out that way, but Bogdon had become his home. When the war was over, he planned to travel, and maybe he would find a new place to call home one day, but for now... For now, Bogdon was home.

His footsteps resounded off the stone walls in a way that was similar to Hogwarts, and he smiled at the sound as they entered the castle. He took a drag off his cigarette and heard Muhammad sigh once they were in the warmer air. Not nearly so warm as what the young Arab was used to, perhaps, but certainly more suited to him than the crisp air of outside; with its' six inches of snow even now in summer.

"Kreacher." The elf appeared with a pop, and his already large eyes grew larger at the sight of Harry. His lips twitched as though he would smile, but he kept his face hard as stone and stood at attention.

"Yes, Master?"

"How are things?" The elf blinked, as though considering what exactly he was asking before answering him.

"They are well. The wards are still standing strong. They were not weakened by your absence. We have kept well stocked, and I stocked more while you were gone, in case of storms." Harry nodded. "There have been no injuries or fights during your absence. A few of your guests have gotten ill, but they were well taken care of by Misters Finnigan and Zabini." So they had continued to handle the medical wing then? That was good. They were suited for it.

"Thank you Kreacher. Do you know where Lord Malfoy is?"

"Yes Master. Lord Malfoy is currently in his quarters."

"Is he awake?"

"He is reading." Harry nodded.

"Alright. Let him know I'm coming up would you?"

"Yes Master." Kreacher bowed and popped away. Harry turned back to his companions.

"Muhammad, this is Draco. Draco, Muhammad." Both looked each other up and down with a nod. "Draco."

"Yes?"

"There should be an empty room on this floor, not too far from the dungeon stairs. Do you know which one I'm talking about?"

"I think so, yes."

"Good. Could you show Muhammad where that is, and the dining hall and my room also?" Draco nodded. Harry pulled his backpack off and handed it to the young Arab, who took it and tossed it over the shoulder not carrying his own bag without complaint. "Could you toss that in my room?"

"Sure. You gonna be long?" Muhammad blew smoke at him.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Hmm." Muhammad looked at Draco. "There is a Library here?" The blonde nodded.

"Yes. I can show you where it is."

"Then I will be there when you are done." Harry nodded.

"I'll meet you there then."

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The Malfoy's had made their home far from the other people in the castle. Most of Harry;s guests lived on the ground floor and the floor above, but the blondes lived on the top floor, isolated from the others. They had requested it, and Harry had allowed it. Their quarters were made up of three bedrooms and two bathrooms all connected to a small joint living area that was like a miniature common room. The rooms were simple and nice, and done up in shades of brown and gold. They were much smaller and simpler than what the Malfoys were accustomed to, but they had seemed happy enough with it.

Mrs. Malfoy, especially, had seemed pleased when they moved in. Harry suspected that she enjoyed having her family so close together. All the same, the main door was open when Harry arrived, so he slipped into their living room without knocking. It was empty when he came in, and he looked around. The main room had a few arched windows on one wall, and a fireplace situated between two of them. There were a couple of couches and armchairs, a rug, and a table to one side with chairs around it for when the family wanted to eat together but not in the dining hall. It had changed a bit since Harry had brought them here.

The furniture remained brown, but the golden patterned rug and the gold curtains had been added to. There was green mixed into the patterns now, and there were some flowers of various colors about the room. There were two new chairs, both done in shades of green, and the dining table had a green cloth over it. They hadn't removed any of the brown or gold, and the Slytherin green mixed in pleasantly with the rest of it. There were some portraits on the walls, likely from their manner, of various people with blonde hair. Some were asleep, but the awake ones only glanced at him before ignoring him. There was one picture of a couple with dark hair that Harry thought might be Mrs. Malfoy's parents, and it occurred to him that the blonde coloring of her hair was not natural.

It was a still painting that caught his attention, strange as it was in a home belonging to wizards. It was put up above the fireplace, and the people in it didn't move. Harry went closer and eyed it. The portrait was of a family, and at first glance, Harry had thought the man in the picture was Lucius. It wasn't though. He was broader in the shoulders, and his hair a slightly more golden shade than platinum. The woman, presumably his wife, had deep gold hair, a much brighter shade than his. Where the man's face was severe, hers was kind and gently smiling. She looked down at the other two occupants of the painting with such love in her eyes that Harry knew they had been well cared for.

The other two were, it seemed, her children. One was a young man, maybe a teen or a bit older, and the other was a child of, perhaps, seven or eight years of age. Harry eyed the young boy, whose expression mimicked his father's, but didn't quite pull it off. His grey eyes were too filled with emotion. He looked happy and excited even as he worked to keep his mouth in a small frown. Harry just barely recognized that this child was Lucius Malfoy. The shape of his eyes and the exact shade of his hair being the only things to mark him as who he was.

But the other boy in the picture, the teenager, was who truly captured his attention. With his father's broad shoulders and strong jaw, and the rest of his features clearly belonging to his mother, including her very much green eyes. Green eyes like his mother, and like Harry. The teen recognized his grandfather. He reached a hand up automatically, placing his fingers on the young man's chest; the portrait set low enough on the wall for his face to be just a few inches above eye level for Harry.

"That was my brother." Harry jumped, dropping his hand and turning. Lucius Malfoy was leaning against the back of one of the couches, his arms crossed over his chest and watching Harry carefully.

"Your brother?" He asked, not able to help himself.

"Yes." Lucius watched him carefully, studying him, and Harry knew he was making the man suspicious, but he couldn't help it. He needed to know. He needed to be sure.

"What was his name?" Lucius didn't answer him at first, just stared for several moments, and Harry wondered if he would answer at all. But then he did.

"Cain." Harry closed his eyes. Cain. Cain Malfoy. Cain who had changed his name to Evans, and Married a muggle woman named Samantha. Cain who had fathered his mother.

"What-" Harry whispered and then swallowed, and Lucius pushed off the couch and came closer. He stood next to Harry, but looked away from him, at the portrait.

"Our father disowned him. Father arranged a marriage for him, as is the usual practice, and he told him he wished to marry another. A muggle." There was no spite or anger when he said the word, and Harry wondered at that for a moment. "So he was thrown out and made penniless." There was regret there.

"Would you do the same?" Lucius looked at him. "If it was Draco?"

"Never. My son's marriage will be arranged as is tradition, but if he asked for differently, even if it was to marry a muggle..." He sighed. "As long as he is happy, I would allow it." Harry stared at him. There was conviction in his voice. Distaste at the idea, yes, but conviction all the same; and Harry believed him and nodded. "Our father was not so forgiving. His hatred of muggles ran deeper than most."

"You don't like muggles either."

"No. I do not. But I do not hate them either, and where my father's hatred was unfounded I, at least, have reasons for my views." Harry hummed but didn't ask. Maybe someday he would, but for now it was enough to know that Lucius didn't hate muggles outright. Lucius' eyes were on the portrait again. "I tried to find him later, once father had passed on and I was older, but I never was able to. I always wondered what happened to him." He looked back down at Harry now, and there was something there, in his eyes; some emotion Harry couldn't name that was tinged with suspicion. He swallowed.

"He married a beautiful muggle woman." Lucius' expression didn't change, but he was listening intently. "They were happy, and they had two children; two little girls. One of them was a witch and one wasn't, but both grew up and got married, and each had a child of their own. And he worked hard to take care of his family." Harry swallowed. "And one day, there was an accident where he worked, and he died." It wasn't much, but it was really all Harry knew. Lucius eyes were both sad and knowing and he nodded. "I... Have you met my Aunt?" Lucius stared at him carefully.

"I believe I have bumped into her once or twice since living here."

"She has a photo book. Maybe... Maybe you could ask her to show it to you. I'm sure she would." Lucius watched him for a moment.

"... Perhaps I shall." Harry nodded, and they both looked back at the portrait. Harry took a shaky breath, and decided that maybe it was time to get back to more current matters.

"Draco said he thought you had made some headway?"

"Ah, yes. I found a spell that can destroy them. I used it on one, but not the others. I was waiting for you to return." Harry nodded and looked up at him.

"What spell was it?"

"Fiendfyre. It's a dark spell, and a bit difficult to control, but it's very powerful, and its' destructive capabilities make it suited for such things." A fire-based spell? Harry grit his teeth. It wasn't something he could do then. But Lucius could, and was willing. He said he had already destroyed one of them, so that was good. But what about the last horcrux?

"Have you found anything regarding the last one?" Lucius sighed.

"Yes and no. I could find no mention of any artifacts specifically associated with Gryffindor aside from his sword and the hat, and you said you were certain that the blade was untainted; and given its' sentient nature, it would be impossible for the hat to have been used for such a purpose. But... I suspect that the last may not have belonged to Gryffindor." Harry eyed him.

"You think it breaks the pattern?" He shook his head.

"Not exactly. Thus far, the horcruxes have been split between items belonging originally to the founders, and items belonging to the Dark Lord. I believe the last is of the latter group."

"But why? He had items from the other three founders, it stands to reason he would have taken something of Gryffindor's also." Lucius shook his head.

"I don't believe so. I have heard the Dark Lord rant on the foolishness of Gryffindor. He detests anything associated with it. Those of his followers coming from the house are even treated notably worse than those of the other houses. I think his dislike for Gryffindor would be great enough that he would not wish to use an item belonging to him for such a purpose."

"Alright. So then what would he use?" Lucius shook his head.

"I am uncertain. If it were possible, I might suspect his wand, however..."

"The magic involved would make it nonfunctional." Lucius nodded.

"Yes. His cloak was another thought, as he has always worn the same one, but cloth is unsuited to holding any great amount of magic for long period of time. It's the same reason that the hides of certain magical beasts are used in place of cloth for magical clothing. Besides that, his original cloak was taken by the Ministry after his initial fall."

"And if it had been a horcrux he would have worked to get a hold of it, but he didn't."

"Precisely."

"Then what?"

"I believe," Lucius paused. "I believe he might have used Nagini." Harry raised an eyebrow. "I have been doing research, and there has been nothing that suggests if it is possible or not to create a horcrux from a living being... But the snake is always by his side, and he is known to be particularly protective of her. Besides that... Souls are fluid things, and even animals possess them. I have never sensed any black magic from her, but if he made her into a horcrux long enough ago..."

"What?"

"The piece of his soul in her could well have fused with her own soul after so long, or... You said the number was of how many the Dark Lord intended to create. It is possible that he had not made her into a horcrux before. If he has done so recently however..."

"Then you wouldn't have known about it." Lucius nodded.

"Yes." Harry thought about it. If Nagini was a horcrux, she hadn't been one when Sirius was killed. She would have been made one after. It made sense. Voldemort would want to keep at least one of the horcruxes with him, and the snake was almost always with him, and capable of defending herself when she wasn't. But... It wouldn't do them any good to put all their eggs in one basket. They would need to kill Nagini anyways, because she was Voldemort's familiar, and regardless of the way she had called him brother like Metis did, the Dark Lord was still her master. She would not stand by as they fought him. So if she was a horcrux, then killing her would destroy it, but if she wasn't...

"Alright. I'll look for a way to get rid of her. In the meantime, I want you to try and determine what else the last horcrux could be. If it's not Nagini, I want to have an idea of what it is. He's made enough horcruxes that he won't be able to get away with making any more and still be functional, but I want to try and get them all destroyed and taken care of before we go after him. If we can take Voldemort down in one shot, then I want to." Lucius nodded.

"I will look into it, but I cannot guarantee that I will find anything."

"That's all I ask."

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Harry had trouble with his meditation that night. After talking to Lucius he had gone to check in with Muhammad, and had decided to put off looking in on everyone else until the next day. They weren't going anywhere, and it was already dark out. He was tired, and he wanted at least one night of rest before dealing with everyone. As such, only the Malfoys knew he was back, and he was able to settle into his room to meditate, Oddball happily sleeping in his lap as he sat cross-legged on the floor.

Mitera's presence was focused elsewhere though, and he was having trouble emptying his thoughts. He finally had some answers. He knew how his mother had been a Malfoy now. He even knew his relation to the Malfoy's (Lucius was his great Uncle, and Draco was his second cousin). But there was still the question of how Sirius had become his father, rather than James Potter. Remus had told him that Sirius had no memory of the event, and he believed that. Remus had known his father well enough to know whether or not he had been lying. So Sirius hadn't known.

But was that because of his time in Azkaban? Or was it something else? Harry sighed to himself and opened his eyes. There were too many questions in his mind at the moment for him to be able to meditate tonight. Instead he picked Oddball's sleeping form up and crawled up into his bed. Sleep wasn't going to come any easier to him right now than meditation, but he wanted to rest and relax, and laying in bed in the dark was preferable to sitting on the floor with the lights on.

He lay and stare at the dark ceiling, and considered a new question. Why did it bother him so much? Why did he want to know so badly? Understanding the details of how it had happened would not change anything. Sirius would still be his father. He would still be himself. He found he couldn't answer that question.

It mattered. To him, it mattered. He wanted to know. He had no real logical reasons. It was all emotion. He desired that knowledge like it was the holy grail. It didn't matter that it wouldn't definitively change anything, because knowing that it wouldn't didn't alter his need to know the truth. To know the details. To know how he had come to be here. He knew who he was, but he wanted to know how he had come to be.

A few hours of quiet thought later, and he finally slipped into exhausted sleep. He wanted his answers. The only problem now, was figuring out where he would begin to find them.

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Harry stared. Metis stared back. He blinked. She blinked back (never-mind that snakes weren't supposed to be able to do that).

"... Wha?" Blaise shrugged.

"No idea. She just kept getting bigger."

And she was bigger. Oh, was she bigger. Before he had left, the blue snake had gone from the size of a pencil, to the size of his arm span, but now... He had been gone for three months. Just three months. But Metis had grown far more while he was gone than she had while he was here. She was, easily, twice as big around as his arm now, and long enough that she could pull her head up off the ground to stare at him eye to eye. She was huge. Bigger than Nagini even, and he had a nasty sinking suspicion that she was still growing.

"You are so small." She hissed at him. "You are my little brother now. Not my big brother. You are too small to be my big brother, because big brothers are bigger." She nodded sharply in a way that showed her sureness of these facts. Harry chuckled, and rubbed the top of her head.

"I'm not small. You're just big. You've grown so much! You must eat many mice now!" She wobbled from side to side, twisting in the same 'dance' he had seen her do that day in Diagon from within her cage.

"I do not eat mice little brother! I am big now! Mice are too small! I crush them beneath my scales!" She sounded very smug about this.

"What do you eat then?" He asked her. He would almost swear she was grinning at him.

"I eat rabbits! The floppy-ear thing brings them to me!" Floppy-ear thing? Kreacher. He smiled. Well, at least she was taken care of. He turned back to Blaise.

"Thanks for looking after her." Blaise shrugged.

"No problem. She's pretty entertaining." Harry chuckled.

"Well, she's not really a normal snake." Blaise grinned.

"Not really no. The only problem I had with her was her sleeping in my bed. She takes up a lot of room."

"Sorry about that. I always let her sleep with me before so I guess she got used to it." Blaise waved a hand.

"It's fine. You might want to get her used to sleeping someplace else though if she gets much bigger. She's heavy you know?"

"I will if I can convince her..." But Metis was very stubborn. If she decided she would only sleep in his bed, he wasn't going to be able to change her mind. Most likely he'd end up having to modify the bed itself.

Blaise laughed, likely knowing his trouble already.

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Everyone was glad to have him back with them. Particularly the Dursleys. His Aunt gave him a big hug as soon as she saw him, and Dudley looked greatly relieved. Even Uncle Vernon seemed more at ease now that he was home. Most of the people in the castle weren't very close to him, but they were all happy he was well; each of them understanding on at least some level that he was an important player in the current war.

Once he had spent some time with his relatives, he met with Draco, Blaise, Seamus, and Sarah, the four of them being the main members of the D.A. who had come to the castle with him at the end of the last school year. They filled him in on what they knew.

While he was gone, Voldemort had been slowly taking over the Ministry. Where he had taken Hogwarts by force, he had gone a slightly more political route with the government. Nearly all of the higher Ministry positions were occupied by death eaters or sympathizers, and everyone else was mostly keeping their heads down. They didn't have much on the details, only what they could get from the papers. The prophet had lost a number of reporters, and these days tended to write about Voldemort and his followers in the most flattering light they were able while still reporting facts. When they couldn't make them out to look good and still be truthful, they lied. Harry didn't think the paper was under the Dark Lord's control, but he had intimidated them badly enough that they were doing their utmost to stay on his good side.

The Marauder's map had proved to be a valuable source of information; allowing them to see the movements of those in the castle. There were a number of relatively high ranking death eaters who remained at Hogwarts full time, and a handful that came and went. Voldemort himself was there often enough, though they were uncertain where he went when he left. Harry suspected that Malfoy Manor was still being used as a base of Operations for them, since they had been using it before the Malfoy's defection. If he had been able to rend control of the wards, it would be an excellent place to work from.

The students looked to be mostly okay, though there were a handful that seemed to spend a great deal more time in the hospital wing than was normal. He didn't recognize most of the names, but one stood out.

Ginny.

Ginny went to the hospital wing at least once a week, and the strange thing about this, was that they had found that most who went there ended up doing so after a run in with a death eater in one of the halls, but Ginny went there like clockwork. Harry knew she had very little skill with healing spells, so she wasn't working there, and there was no one there long term who she would be visiting. This suggested some sort of ongoing problem, maybe from something that had happened not long after the initial takeover.

It was worrying. If there was something wrong with Ginny... Harry sighed as he stared at her name on the map. They might be forced to do some sort of rescue mission. But with the death eaters crawling all over the place, stealth would be the best option, and he wasn't entirely sure they could manage that.

Still, Ginny was his sister, and if she was hurt, he would get her out.

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