It's been a while and a lot of it was the fact that I wasn't anticipating how busy this summer was. I don't want to say I'm back because i want to focus on another story, but I'll update more- hopefully soon, depending on the muse.

Chapter 41: Unveiling the Shadows

The summer passed rather quickly for Hermione as August soon started to bleed through, and September seemed to be close within its reach. This was probably a good thing for her as she was starting to run out of things to do. She had already read and reread her second year books, and all the books she had picked up during her trip in Diagon Alley, a couple of days ago- mainly about the wizarding culture, the treatment surrounding magical creatures, and everything she could find between the mixture of the light and the dark.

She had to know why everything was so backwards. Why was the magical world so bent on treating magical creatures so horrible? Or the fact that everyone was willing to go head over hills over someone in a powerful position, without even questioning? She knew nothing good came from idolizing someone- especially from someone in power, as it always meant power was unbalanced and always led to problems down the road.

Yet, the fact that no one was willing to see the problems as they were? Hermione may have been an outsider from the wizarding culture, but she knew the problems when she saw it. The fact that slavery was legal here, but it's okay because this is what they do, and it's normal made her see red. She knew that the muggle world didn't spend over three centuries, just from the TransAtlantic Slave Trade- alone, and slavery was still happening around the world, but just swept under the rug for much more grander things.

There was no one to help her, to figure things out- or even aid her. Her parents wouldn't understand what she had meant, and would probably frown on the fact that they were sending their only child to a society that legally allowed the use of slavery, amongst other things. Nor the fact that they were a bit hesitant when it came to finding out that she was indeed a witch and they didn't belong in her world. It wasn't like she had friends that she would be willing to write to, and would be able to understand her perspective on things.

She had a feeling after her stunt on Saeviour's birthday that they had shunned her out of their exclusive friend group, and that she was back to being the unfriended, know-it-all that had no friends. Perhaps, that was a good thing. Who really needed those kinds of friends who bullied and made snide remarks to those who weren't like them. Or the fact that when it really came down to it, she was always going to be the one that was stuck doing their homework because they were too lazy to do it themselves.

She still felt as though Saeviour's birthday had just happened, the memories vivid and fresh in her mind:

Saeviour's birthday had been an event that Hermione had been anticipating ever since she had received a letter to celebrate his twelfth birthday on July thirty-first. Most of her excitement stemmed from the fact that she had been thrilled to receive an invitation to anything—especially a birthday party—since she had never been to one nor been invited during her time at Muggle school. It had been difficult for her to contain the rush of importance and happiness that had flooded through her until the day of the party.

On the day of, Saeviour's letter had served as a Portkey, which she had assumed had been created by his father, activating at one o'clock in the afternoon. Traveling through a Portkey had been one of the strangest feelings she had ever experienced, especially the sensation of the hook near her navel. Yet, somehow, her parents' living room had bled away until the movement had stopped, and soft grass along with a tall, dark manor had appeared before her.

Potter's manor, if she had to guess.

The manor had seemed like something written out of a fairytale. Huge, bright green vines had wrapped around parts of the building. The exterior had been painted white, with black trim added for contrast. Large oak trees had stood out front, plump and full of bright green leaves that provided ample shade under the warm, bright sun. In the distance, she had seen hoops that were likely for a small Quidditch area.

She had turned her attention away and noticed white tents that had been set up, providing more shade for the guests. Huge, colorful banners had lined the tall trees, spelling out "HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAEVIOUR" in large letters, and beneath that had been a three-layer chocolate cake with sliced strawberries layered between the tiers and whole strawberries on top, along with blue writing that read "Happy 12th Birthday."

Hermione had been about to find Saeviour, or really anyone she wanted to have a conversation with, considering that most of the guests had been the Weasleys, Neville Longbottom and his grandmother, along with several Gryffindor and Hufflepuff classmates.

Yet, before she had even had the chance to do anything, she had heard a voice nearby. It had sounded like Saeviour.

"Hermione!" Saeviour had greeted, waving his hand in the air.

Hermione had smiled brightly as she had seen Saeviour quickly pick up his pace, with Ron in tow.

"I'm so glad you could make it. Honestly, I don't think I would have been able to have any fun without you here," Saeviour had said with a huge smile on his face. "Now, the golden trio is complete."

Saeviour had slung both of his arms around Hermione and Ron's shoulders—a gesture of comfort that had shown her they were the best of friends and that they would be together forever, as long as Hermione had been able to keep it together and not do anything to offend them.

"Happy birthday, Saeviour," Hermione had told him. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Of course, it wouldn't have been the same without you," Saeviour had said in a rather smug tone. "You're one of my best friends, and you've helped me out so much... It's the least I can do."

Hermione had no idea what to say, so she had chosen to say nothing. It had seemed to be the right decision, as Saeviour had quickly changed the subject—one that had almost reminded Hermione of a spoiled brat who always got what they wanted and had never heard the word "no" before.

"Come... I want to show you how many presents I got, considering it's probably the most exciting part of this entire thing."

Before Hermione had even had a chance to say anything, Saeviour had pulled her arm with Ron walking beside him as they had headed toward the stack of presents that had been set on two black tables. All of the presents had varied in different sizes and widths, paired well with the colorful wrapping and bows on some of them.

Hermione had had a hard time trying to comprehend the fact that someone could receive so many presents for their birthday. She had never seen so many presents in one place, either on her birthday or Christmas. Her gifts had always been small, some of her most prized possessions such as special editions of her favorite books, or just a gift card to her favorite bookstore. It had been enough to make Hermione always grateful for what her parents had given her. She had never once questioned the quantity or anything else. She had been perfectly content with what she had received.

Yet, this had been vastly different from what Hermione had been used to.

"I just can't wait to open them," Saeviour had boasted. "I hope one of them is that new broomstick on the market. I'd kill to be able to have one of those... It's supposed to be better than the Nimbus Two Thousand."

"Why would you care about what kind of presents you received? Isn't the most important thing about a birthday or a birthday party spending time with friends and family? Who cares about what you got?" Hermione had found herself saying aloud.

The air had grown tense, and silence had settled in. It had been so thick that Hermione had been sure she could probably hear a pin drop, just from the way no one had spoken nor moved. She had watched as Saeviour's expression had turned from a smile into an ugly scowl. His brown eyes had narrowed, and he had formed a rather unpleasant expression on his face.

She had known what she had said had been rather harsh, but it had needed to be said. She had been rather tired of the fact that Saeviour had been acting like a twat, being incredibly self-righteous. Why had she been the one who had to keep the peace and do everything he had wanted? And if he had demanded an apology, she hadn't been going to give one because everything she had said had been the truth.

"Are you kidding me, Hermione? Are you suddenly jealous of the fact that I'm more popular than you and trying to steal my fame? THIS IS MY DAY, and I can choose to spend it however I want," Saeviour had yelled, his face turning a shade of tomato red in the process.

"Woah, mate, let's calm down... I'm sure Hermione didn't mean it," Ron had intervened, placing his arm on Saeviour's shoulder as a means of support. "You know how she gets at times. It's probably best if you leave her alone right now. Besides, I think my mum probably wants to see you at some point."

"You're right, Ron," Saeviour had turned his attention to Ron, his expressions doing a complete 180, as he had smiled at Ron. No signs of anger or anything like that had remained on his face. "Besides, we don't need her. Without us, she would be lonely... Let her be, let's go see what Mrs. Weasley wants."

He had thrown a dirty look over his shoulder toward Hermione as he had walked away to where Mrs. Weasley had been standing near Professor Dumbledore and all the other adults attending the party. She had gripped her fists tightly, her nails digging little crescent moons into her palms as she had wished she had been given a chance to either speak her mind or hit something—preferably both.

Did she really need friends if her friends were acting like this?

Hermione had stood there for a couple of minutes, watching Saeviour and Ron talk to the adults. She hadn't noticed that two people had approached her side by side—both of them with red hair and matching grins on their faces.

Fred and George.

"What's a little member of the golden trio doing out here looking all sullen?" Fred had asked. "You should be with them..."

"Unless there is trouble in paradise," George had added.

"How do you know?" Hermione had asked. "It's not like you two would actually think that we're having troubles with the friendship, or that they'll use me for anything."

Both Fred and George had started laughing, and Hermione had briefly wondered what she had said that had been so hilarious to them. None of it had been funny; it had all been serious and filled with her insecurities.

"Come now, Hermione. You think we haven't noticed," Fred had started.

"The fact that you are sometimes hanging around with Saeviour's ex-brother—" said George.

"A person that he hates tremendously—" Fred had piped up.

"Just because you want to get something out of him." Both of the twins had finished at the same time.

"How do you even know about that?" Hermione had questioned.

There had been no way that Fred and George could have known about her actions during the spring half of the second term. She had made sure to keep her actions secretive, and if they had asked, she had already had an excuse ready. Yet, Fred and George had seemed calm, knowing what she had done.

"You don't have to play dumb with us," Fred had started.

"We know that you had something to do with the Lestrange child getting set free—"

"We've never seen Harrison so happy when he went back to school," George had responded. "Although he did try to hide it as best as he could."

"Such a shame that he hadn't told us much about her, nor about anything this summer." Both of the twins had looked at each other with an expression Hermione hadn't been able to understand.

"He's been rather secretive as of late," Fred had agreed.

Hermione had asked, "I mean, are we surprised? He'd always tried to keep anything under wraps until something happened. The thing about him was he wouldn't give out information for free, so why had you been surprised?"

George had feigned shock on his face. "Hermione, I didn't know you cared about him."

Fred had finished, "You really aren't as light as they'd thought you were if you'd truly cared about him. But that's okay. Sometimes, the light wasn't as good as they might have seemed."

"Even I know they weren't... They had locked up two children in Azkaban because they had been considered dangerous," Hermione had added.

The twins had laughed in response. "Oh, but that had only been the tip of the iceberg, Hermione... You hadn't even begun to unravel all of the secrets and schemes that had been taking place, even at that moment. Perhaps once you'd realized the truth, you'd have seen what we'd been talking about, but until then, you were just going to be little-miss-goody-two-shoes and kissing the boy-who-lived's arse."

"Until then, we'd bid you adieu." Both of them had sent grins that had reminded her of the Cheshire cat before they'd skipped off to do something else.

Hermione had frowned; the entire interaction had felt off and very conflicting. They hadn't been just the pranksters that everyone had told her about, disobeying the rules and causing mischief wherever they went. They had been hiding something more than what they had said. Everything they had said had felt like a puzzle piece, connecting to a much bigger puzzle. They had also mentioned schemes that had been taking place at that very minute, which had made Hermione feel puzzled. What sort of schemes had they been talking about? She had known it couldn't have involved the Dark Lord—after all, there hadn't been any confirmation whether or not the Dark Lord had been back—but the other question—she hadn't been sure about Dumbledore.

She had known there had been a lot of propaganda surrounding Dumbledore, mainly about how the guy had had no faults and how he had been the greatest wizard in the world. Yet, the fact that he had willingly allowed not one, but two children to be sent to Azkaban had really shown there had been something else that had been hidden. No supposed leader of the light would have done that, so it wouldn't have surprised her if he had also been scheming.

Those thoughts had seemed to swirl in her brain, making her want to focus on them, but she couldn't. She had been surrounded by people of the light—people who would gladly fight with the boy-who-lived and Professor Dumbledore. There had been no point in saying anything about any of that then, in case they had reacted negatively and been ashamed of her input—shunning her as a result.

Perhaps that would have been a good thing. It had been clear that the light hadn't been as good as they had seemed, and the dark had been—well—the dark. Just as bad as the light, so it hadn't really mattered.

Hermione had let those thoughts swirl in her mind as it had soon been time to have dinner and the rest of the celebrations had followed suit. She had sat next to Saeviour, with Ron right next to her, waiting as the strange creatures had begun bringing out dishes and dishes of steaming food. They had been rather ugly creatures with tan, folded skin that had probably made them look like elves with their pointy ears.

"Who are they?" Hermione had asked, noticing the small figures that had almost looked like some sort of elf—all of them with really big ears and wearing matching tea towels in a poor, sad, beige color.

"They are just house-elves, Hermione," Saeviour had brushed her off, looking at her with disdain written in his eyes. "I'd thought you would know that, considering you'd read a lot."

"I must have missed that," she had murmured. "What do they do?"

"They clean, serve us our meals... things like that," Saeviour had answered in a rather bored tone.

Hermione had had an inkling in her stomach that not everything had been said, so she had asked the questions that had come to mind. She had had a feeling they hadn't just been maids, as Saeviour had put it. Otherwise, why had they been wearing the same tea towels in a beige color that had looked well-worn in some places?

"Oh—so are they like maids or something? Are they getting paid for the type of work they did? Do they have days off?" Hermione had asked, rattling off the questions as soon as they had reached her mind.

She hadn't been able to comprehend that all of this had felt normal. Had this been normal in every household in the wizarding world?

"They don't get paid. They just do it," Saeviour had admitted in a rather matter-of-fact voice. "I don't know why you'd been asking all of these questions. This is normal, and normal people don't question anything like this…. You should quit being ignorant, for once."

Hermione had seen red. It hadn't been the fact that Saeviour had literally said that they just did it, but the fact that it had implied the usage of slavery being a normal thing around here. How any of this had been legal was beyond her. No matter how many excuses someone had made—house-elves were still slaves, and yet no one had cared.

"Are you serious, Saeviour? Do you realize that you're talking about the possibility of slavery? I can't believe you're okay with this. No one in their right mind would be okay with this..."

"Quit being dramatic for once, Hermione," Saeviour had said, rolling his eyes in the process.

"I'm being dramatic? How about this? You're the one who's a lazy prick, who struggles so much with magic. I'm sick and tired of your snide remarks that you give to others and the fact that I'd always have to do your own damn homework because you are too lazy. The fact that you bully others to make you feel proud of yourself was sickening. Guess what, Saeviour—the world doesn't revolve around you!"

There had been silence all around. No one had dared to move or say anything, as Hermione had made her point loud and clear. She had known she had caused a scene, but somebody had had to say it; otherwise, who would have called the savior out for his righteous behavior?

"Are you kidding, Hermione?" Saeviour had responded. "If it hadn't been for me, you would be alone and a little freak. You should be glad—"

"Saeviour, that's enough," James Potter had called out. "You're causing a scene in front of everyone. This is not how you act."

"But Dad, she started it."

"I don't care who started it..." he had said. "You're being a whiny brat right now. Not everyone had to agree with you all the time, and besides, your mother did the same thing when she and I had first met, with the house-elves..."

"Dad," Saeviour had pouted.

James had ignored his son and instead told Hermione about the house-elves.

"And Hermione, to answer your questions. The house-elves are like maids. They'd been in our family for centuries and had never once left us. When the Dark Lord had been after us, we had gone into hiding and had sent them away for our own safety, but now that the threat had been subdued for now, they serve us."

"Oh."

There had been awkward silence as the house-elves had finished putting the food out, and people had started to dive in, enjoying some small talk. In the meantime, she had heard Saeviour say something to his dad.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Saeviour had apologized. "I miss her. I wished that bastard hadn't killed her," Saeviour had murmured darkly. "He'd pay eventually. I swear it, Dad."

"Now, Saeviour—let's change the subject and not talk about this in front of our guests. And besides, you were way too young to be saying stuff like that."

"You're right... Today is my special day, and I won't et anyone ruin it."

Hermione was unable to give Saeviour another answer for the rest of his birthday celebration and spent the few weeks not corresponding with anyone. Those words, always alone and a little freak already embedded itself into her heart. Wounds so fresh that it was hard to focus, but perhaps it was a good thing.

Sometimes, it was to get out of those friendships considering how toxic they really were. They were always going to see her as a little know-it-all freak, and there wasn't anything to do to change their minds. The damage was already done as soon as Saeviour said those words. They weren't going to be friends again and Hermione would be navigating Hogwarts by herself- which perhaps was a good thing.

She didn't have to worry about anyone about trying to figure out what she was doing, nor did she have to be very secretive. She didn't have to worry about anyone finding out that she was secretly planning on those who were wronged and figure out justice.

It wasn't just that.

It was the fact that Fred and George's brief mention dealing with the plotting that made her realize something else.

Dumbledore was the key role in all of this. How she had no idea how much he was into this?. But it would make sense. The fact that Harrison was thrown in Azkaban, and allowing a younger child into Azkaban- and the fact that he wasn't willing to give said child reparations was something else entirely. There was more to that, and Hermione wouldn't be surprised if he wronged even more people.

It was just the matter of finding out why- that was the million dollar question.

However, before she could even understand any of Dumbledore's possible schemes- she had to figure out the line between good and evil, first.

…

The room was dim, with only the crackling fire casting long, flickering shadows that bathed the space in a warm, orange glow. The flames danced in the fireplace, their unpredictable movements the only signs of life in the otherwise still chamber. In the hushed silence, Harrison's green eyes flickered towards the Dark Lord, who stood motionless before the fire, his back turned to him. Nagini laid near the fireplace, resting on the dark-colored rug, her dark green slaves reflecting the firelight in the background, her yellow eyes- half-closed, kept an eye on the Dark Lord and Harrison.

The air seemed tense, thick and palpable with every passing second as the moment when the rest of the Dark Lord's followers would arrive, and the meeting would soon commence.

*Harry,* the Dark Lord's voice cut through the silence, and Harrison looked up- away from Nagini to meet the Dark Lord's gaze, who had turned away.

* Yes?* Harrison responded back in Parseltongue, keeping his voice low.

* Can you do me a favor? * Tom's voice was as smooth as silk, and somehow, contained an underlying edge to it.

Harrison cocked his head slightly, curiosity piqued. The Dark Lord wasn't one to ask for favors, or anything like that. This had to be something important if the Dark Lord was entrusting him with something like this.

*When you return to Hogwarts, can you report back to me if you find anything suspicious, particularly concerning Dumbledore? I have a feeling he might attempt something once he realizes that I'm back in power,* Tom explained, keeping his voice low and measured.

* Of course, my lord,* Harrison responded back immediately. *You're not planning on revealing that you're back in power, are you?*

Tom let out an amused chuckle, which made Harrison narrow his eyes slightly, * No… Not yet. Not a for a good while, at least *

*If you don't mind me asking, when are you going to do that? * Harrison knew it was a dangerous question to ask, considering who he was asking. One should never ask the Dark Lord about their plans, or when.

The air thickened and the Dark Lord's eyes flashed dangerously that nearly sent a shiver down his spine.

*Harry, you should know better than to question me like that,* He hissed back in a low voice that sounded deadly.

*I'm sorry,* He quickly apologized.

The Dark Lord simply didn't respond to that quick apology, and instead changed the subject in a casual tone, * You will know soon enough… However, right now you will be my eyes and ears inside Hogwarts, understood?*

*Understood.*

The Dark Lord seemed satisfied with Harrison's answer, as he nodded only once. He turned away from the fireplace, and in a slow, deliberate pace, he walked towards the long, ornate table in the center of the room and took a seat, in the center of the table. On his right, he simply gestured towards the seat to his right, indicating where Harrison should sit and he did so, without another word.

Nagini seemed to spring to life as she uncoiled herself from near the fireplace, and instead slithered towards Harrison, and coiled herself around Harrison's shoulders. He felt her cool, smooth scales around him, and scratched her head a little bit which seemed to please the snake and simply raised her head just a little bit so Harrison could get underneath her chin.

*Really, Nagini… You choose the boy over me?* Tom asked with a raised eyebrow.

*The boy's warmer and he tends to give me a lot more attention than you do…. He always gives me a nice, juicy rat to have,* Nagini protested.

*Is that so?* Tom hissed back in a low voice. *I thought you were my familiar and not his.*

Harrison smirked in amusement watching the Dark Lord and Nagini arguing over whether the fact that the snake was the Dark Lord's familiar. Harrison knew she was, but it was just entertaining watching those two fight and be a little jealous.

Before they could get further in their little antics, the Dark Lord must have sensed something in the wards as he sat up- straightening out his spine, placing the glamour that would reveal the bald-headed Dark Lord that had snakelike features, and summoned Harrison's mask to wear for the meeting.

The Dark Lord seemed satisfied with his answer as he nodded only once. He headed towards the long, ornate table and pointed to the right of him to where Harrison sat down right next to him. From there, it didn't take too long for the Death Eaters to gather suit in their white, skull-like masks and their black cloaks and hoods concealing their identities. They piled into the room, with the only noise being by their footsteps and the slightest rustle of their robes moving. They each took a seat at the table, with Lucius on Tom's left side, and so forth.

"Welcome, my friends," the Dark Lord began, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

The room was silent, save for the crackling of the fire and the soft hiss of Nagini as she shifted slightly on Harrison's shoulders. The Dark Lord's presence commanded attention, and even without looking, Harrison could feel the collective focus of the Death Eaters fixed on their leader.

At the head of the table, Lord Voldemort's snake-like features twisted into a cruel smile as he surveyed his followers. "We are on the brink of a new era," he hissed, his voice a cold whisper that sent shivers down the spines of those present. "Azkaban will no longer hold our loyal comrades. The time for their liberation is upon us."

"How, my lord?" One of the Death Eaters asked, leaning closely towards the table. "Isn't the fortress heavily guarded? And aren't they under those dreadful dementors"

"Yes," The Dark Lord responded, smiling coldly in response to the question. Harrison watched as some of his followers seemed to shrink back in their seats ever so slightly that it made Harrison want to smirk in response. He refrained from doing so and instead, continued to listen to what the Dark Lord had to say.

"I'm sure the Dementors would join us when we break our loyal friends out. They joined us in the last war, before my demise. I'm sure, it'll be the same considering the ministry keeps them in check," The Dark Lord explained.

He turned to his left- directly at Lucius and asked,

"Lucius, how does it go at the ministry?"

Harrison watched as the older blonde seemed to swallow in his pride before he answered in a low voice, "My Lord… The security is still the same out there as it was before. There are very few Aurors that guard the place, few and far between as not many of them find the pleasure in going out there. When we will break the rest of them out, I'll do everything in my power that we will face no resistance. I'll make sure that none of the Aurors are there."

"See that you do," Tom said in a cold tone. "I don't want to see Dumbledore and his fellow followers out there, when we go out there because we didn't make the precautions."

"It'll be done, my lord," Lucius said rather quietly.

It was quiet for a moment or two before Snape, who was sitting right next to Lucius asked,

"My lord, what about the wards there? I'm sure Dumbledore might realize the fact that something is amiss and will investigate what happened?"

"Severus… On the night that we attack, stay there at the castle with Dumbledore… I'm sure Dumbledore will call you anyways, once he realizes. Make sure the old man doesn't get suspicious," He told him.

Snape nodded, "Yes, my lord."

*My lord, * Harrison whispered, slipping into Parseltongue. He just had to ask the question * Can I be of assistance to you when you break the rest of the Death Eaters out?*

It seemed that hearing the hissing noise that came from the usage of Parseltongue freaked out the Death Eaters just a little bit. Harrison saw a couple of Death Eaters flinch at the sound of hissing, while others seemed to pay no notice to it. He knew it was common knowledge that the Dark Lord spoke Parseltongue, but having someone else do it- seemed to give them more a mystery to figure out. However, unlike everyone else's reactions- Snape was the only one who didn't show any slightest hint of a reaction of hearing Harrison speak Parseltongue.

Tom remained impassive and still continued to look towards the rest of his Death Eaters. There was no reaction, or any a slightest bit that he had heard Harrison.

After a couple of seconds later, the Dark Lord finally hissed back a reply- in a low voice, *We will talk later.*

*Yes, Tom.*

"My lord, who will be the mainline of assault? I don't want to be going into that place blindly, and us getting ambushed. We are much to fragile," One of the Death Eaters questioned- one that Harrison had no idea who their name was.

"We will worry about that when the time gets closer," The Dark Lord told them in a dismissive tone. "We will attack on Halloween night. Make your preparations in the meantime... Severus, stay. The rest of you may go."

The Death Eaters rose in unison from the long, ornate table. Their voices in a low murmur of agreement, and discussion about this meeting. Snape stayed, only standing up from the table to approach the Dark Lord who stood at the edge of the room, his red eyes staring at the door- waiting until the rest of the Death Eaters headed out. Harrison sat up from his chair as soon as he heard the door close with a thud- and received a slight hiss of disproval as it caused Nagini to shift from her comfortable position that she had made, and started to approach the two men.

"My lord?" Severus asked in an uncertain voice.

"Severus, my trusted friend…. I have an important task for you," Tom replied in a neutral tone. "Fail, and I will have to kill you, because this is a task I can only entrust you with."

Harrison saw the man's Adams apple bob up and and down as the professor swallowed in the reaction the the threat the Dark Lord made.

*Harry?*

Without saying a word, Harrison stepped closer to the Dark Lord and stood next to him. From there, the Dark Lord took off his silver masked around Harrison's face, to reveal Harrison's identity towards Snape. He saw the man's eyes widen slightly before his mask slid back into place.

"Hello, professor," Harrison greeted.

"Harrison.," Snape regarded him with a slight nod. "My lord, may I ask why you have him here, attending meetings? May I remind you that he is only twelve years old, and will be entering his second year at Hogwarts in September... He's still a child."

"I am well aware of that, Severus. You do not need to concern yourself with the fine lines nor all the details in why he is here with me. The only thing you need to know is that this child has done great service for me-"

"That doesn't excuse the reason why he is here?" Severus interrupted with a harsh tone. "You were very insistent when I was only a teenager. I had to be of age to be able to get the mark, and participate in raids. What makes him so different that you are willing to abstain from your beliefs, when you didn't allow me and many others to do that?"

"Severus," The Dark Lord said in a low menacing voice. "You will not interrupt me again… My reasons are my own. Rest assured. He is not marked, nor will he be in the near future. He will not partake in any raids, or anything like that, if you wish to know... The only thing you should know and the reason why I'm entrusting you is this. You will keep this boy safe from harm. He is under my protection, and he is my heir. Will you be able to protect him and bring him to the meetings- and to bring him to and from the castle?"

Snape seemed to contemplate his decision from the way that the man remained silent until he finally said, in a low voice.

"Yes, my lord."

Doing so, Harrison met Snape's onyx eyes and he knew that the man was curious. As soon as Hogwarts started back up again, Harrison knew that Snape would be asking all the questions especially considering the fact that the Dark Lord just declared that he was his heir, something unheard of for the Dark Lord to do. He knew the man was curious, but his curiosity would have to wait for later.

"Good, you may," The Dark Lord dismissed him.

Snape turned around and headed out towards the room to where he assumed that he was going to apparated back to whoever he came from. Tom stood there in silence, watching the door came to a close again, and removed his glamour in the process.

"Why did you reveal my identity to him?" Harrison asked, cocking his head slightly.

"I needed someone to protect you at Hogwarts in case something happens that you can't protect yourself... But also, the fact that I want you to attend some of those meetings that I will be hosting. It'll be easier to get you and from the castle, considering he is already there."

"Oh."

"Now, what is it that you want to ask me?" Tom asked, switching the conversation to the question that Harrison asked during the meeting.

"May I partake in the Azkaban raid?" He asked.

It was the same question that he asked when he had yet to bring the Dark Lord back to full power and one that he wanted. It would make everything come into place. He knew it was long shot, considering his age and all and the Dark Lord didn't exactly agree to any of that, but he had too. He had to make sure he fulfilled that promise to the inmates on that fateful day, and the same promise that he made to Ella- he would get the rest of them out, one way or another with the Dark Lord by his side.

"We will see… I don't know yet," Tom responded in a nonchalant voice.

"Okay."

That was the end of the conversation, as the Dark Lord left the drawing room, leaving Harrison and Nagini, who was still on Harrison's shoulders, her head propped up as if she was listening to the conversation, alone inside the room. He was glad that the breakout was happening in only a month's time and knew that the wizarding world would once again tremble once the Dark Lord came into more power, as he knew this was only the beginning.