Mo Chridhe

Chapter 16

Draco glared at Harry something fierce, he hated that he was in his common room. intruding on the place where they didn't need to wear masks against the majority of Hogwarts. Hated how easily the other boy had it, Dumbledore's golden boy, already revered by everyone. Using Marcus to make his life easier as if his status wasn't enough. Even worse his godfather seemed perfectly fine with it; he'd gone to him expecting something to be done. A Gryffindor in Slytherin common room! The audacity! If only his father could hear about this!

"Marcus!" Harry said cheerfully, his entire face lighting up when he caught sight of the wizard.

Draco rolled his eyes, he was good, he'd give him that, he sounded and looked completely sincere. Resignedly going back to his homework, grim and annoyed. He couldn't write to his parents about it, the spells prevented them from revealing anything about Harry at all as a matter of fact. Not just his parents either, no, they couldn't complain to students in the other houses too.

"Do you have homework?" Marcus asked, observing everyone's reactions to Harry being there. Oh, he knew there were a few that were unhappy. None more than Draco, the spoiled little brat, treated like a prince, the Malfoy's had been stupid doing that. Draco didn't even understand what a 'punishment' was. Oh, everyone knew Narcissa had struggled for over a decade to have a child. It was something of a phenomenon, it had happened with James Potter as well.

"I do, did anyone keep a copy of the newspaper?" Harry asked, sounding far too hopeful.

"Luckily for you, I swiped it when Marcus made his way over," Lucian Bole proclaimed with a grin, flicking over the rolled-up paper still in its covering to keep it dry. It had been a very wet night and early morning, so it was hardly surprising.

Harry easily snatched it out of the air, grinning widely, "Thanks!" the older Slytherins were far nicer than the younger years. His fellow first years were constantly angry, annoyed, jealous whenever he was around.

"Hmm good reflexes," Lucian commented, "Do us a favor and wait until we graduate before you try out." Teasing him, standing up, he messed with the boy's hair before he was off with a wave of his hand.

"Try out?" Harry asked, turning to face Marcus, causing his elbow to drag his bag down off the table and onto the floor. Everything scattered everywhere, causing Harry to groan, it was going to take forever to get it all back.

"What's this, Potter? Why would anyone in the Black family be in touch with you?" Malfoy proclaimed, his anger skyrocketing.

Marcus' gaze narrowed at that announcement, "Accio!" and the contents of Harry's bag begun to zoom back into the cheap bought bag. It had no specialties, like lightweight charm, impervious to rain and such. It was just a bag with no special features that Muggle-born students bought. There was only one thing that didn't return, the letter in Draco's hand.

Marcus stood up, stomped over to the blonde, who trembled but kept his chin inched up in rebelliousness. "You'd think you were raised by Muggles, Malfoy, or do you think you're exempt from all etiquette? Perhaps I should inform your mother and tell her she failed in raising her son who likes to steal others mail." Snatching the letter, his gaze bore down upon the boy, now he was frightened, good. Using the boys mother seem to cause him no small amount of fear. He tucked it away for future use.

"I wasn't stealing it," Draco snarked back but without any real bite. Still worried that Flint would actually tell his mother, and Merlin she would be so disappointed. He adored his mother, and would hate to see her upset. He could get her to smile when nobody else could. If she knew what he'd done…she really would be very upset. "Why is Potter getting mail from Lord Black?" envy suffusing him, it was so unfair. When Orion Black died, the headship was given to Regulus who died and it returned Arcturus for a second time. His mother said there were no other male heirs and he'd likely be given the majority of the Black estate.

Marcus turned the letter around, wanting confirmation himself, and it was sealed with the Black coat of arms. The crows were a dead giveaway that it was the family. Only two families have crows in their family crests, the Blacks and Lestrange's. The Black's had three ravens whereas the Lestrange family only had two. This one housed three crows upon the wax seal. "None of your business," Marcus sneered, the sheer audacity of him to demand answers he has no right too. "Best watch your tone, Malfoy." Before someone actually hurt the boy, which truly was the last thing he wanted. Punishment did no good when it was nothing but pain, just taught you bad habits, he should know.

Harry approached Marcus, tugging his robe, getting his attention, staring up at him in concern, "Marcus?"

Marcus inhaled sharply before he stared down, "Yes?" watching Draco slink away with his homework, he let the boy lest he take his mood out on Harry. Who by the way was not at fault for what just happened, even though he knew Draco would see it that way. Spoiled little brat that he is.

"It can't be Sirius, can it?" Harry suitably distracted Marcus and his emotions bled back into a more neutral feel.

"No, definitely not," Marcus declared, "Azkaban doesn't have the facilities to allow prisoners to write, they're never allowed out of their cells. Anyone that goes there to talk to them is usually a Ministry official and it's done whilst they're in their cell." Visitation didn't even enter into his mind, for it was not something he'd ever thought about, the rules were rules and the magical world was backwards, like it or not.

"You said there wasn't anyone else left," Harry pointed out, frowning in confusion, hadn't he? What little he'd been told he'd sort of figured that Sirius was the only one left.

"I did not think there were," Marcus told Harry flipping the letter between two of his fingers, before handing it back to Harry to do as he wished. He couldn't deny he was curious to know who was writing on behalf of the Black family, nobody would dare to use the Black coat of arms when they weren't family. He could only recall three females being left, and they most certainly wouldn't have property belonging to the Lord Black.

"Marcus! You're not going to believe this!" Terrance Higgs called out, a look of shock on his face, held in his hand was a letter. Marcus eased Harry into the booth tapping the table, wordlessly telling him to begin his homework. He moved closer to his friend, inclining his head just so. "Someone's going around killing entire families. The entire Vance family has been wiped out; he was decapitated!" speaking urgently into Marcus' ear so that young ones wouldn't hear.

Marcus zoomed in on Terrance's face, "You're joking right? The entire family?" that sort of shit didn't happen very often. Even the Dark Lord Voldemort didn't actually go around killing entire families, there was always – usually – one left alive to carry on the name. The Potters had clearly been exceptions to the rules.

"Every last one," Terrance replied firmly, "Do you think this is being made a distraction from Black?" it was front and center of the newspaper. "There's nothing about Black in this one." Showing him a mock-up of tomorrow mornings copy of the Daily prophet, which wouldn't be printed for another few hours.

"Not surprised that the Ministry would try and sway the news but kill an entire family? Unlikely, especially since the Vance family donates quite a lot to like a dozen ministry causes." Marcus moved to sit down, giving the newspaper a perfunctory read.

"Well, that's true," Terrance commented, sitting down beside him, "Wasn't it just last summer they donated to the Ministry's potions labs?" truthfully, they were understaffed, their Potioneers were pathetic, and they barely created anything to keep them afloat. St Mungo's potioneers did far better, and independent brewers brought out new potions yearly and did by far the best.

Marcus snorted derisively, "With the 'promise to see that St. Mungo's Janus Thickey Ward empty' of patients, please, imagine promising something they wouldn't be able to deliver in a million years." Mocking them cruelly but not towards the patients, but the Ministry for being its usual pathetic self, and making promises it would just not deliver. At least not under Fudge at any rate, he was the worst Minister they'd ever had.

"What's St. Mungo's Janus Thickey Ward?" Harry asked, peering curiously up at the two older students. No sign of sheepishness at having been listening. He was learning a few tricks being in Slytherin and being shameless was one of them.

"You've not heard of it? Even with being Longbottom's friend?" Terrance asked Harry, more than slightly surprised.

"What has Neville got to do with a ward?" Harry asked, straightening up, eyeing Terrance shrewdly.

"I keep forgetting how young they are," Terrance mused, and how clueless most of them were too.

"Yes, a whole four years, the horror," Harry mocked him, knowing it would be taken in the spirit it was intended. His sassiness was accepted wholeheartedly, and everyone was amused by it and gave back as good as they got.

Terrance huffed out his amusement, ruefully shaking his head, "Excuse me," he said, before moving away from Harry and Marcus and up the stairs to the male dormitories.

Marcus grumbled at the fact he was being left to explain, and he would need to be careful. Harry actually liked Longbottom, and he didn't want to upset him. Although, if there was anyone on this planet that would understand what Neville went through it was Harry and not fully because he was an empath. The two were more alike than any eleven-year-old children should be.

"You understand what we told you about the Order of the phoenix?" Marcus answered.

Harry nodded, "The group Dumbledore made to fight against Voldemort, that my parents were part of." Not sure what this had to do with a hospital, but he'd get answers soon enough. Baffling as it was at the moment.

"Longbottom's parents were part of the same organization," Marcus informed him, a terribly grim countenance on his face. Far worse than his usual look, many wouldn't notice the difference, and Harry didn't need to be close to know the difference. "When the Dark Lord's defeat was announced, it was a dreadful time for those on the dark side. They raged against their defeat, so much so that four Death Eaters, ones high up in the organization, the inner circle as a matter of fact…" used to hearing Voldemort called the Dark Lord so much so that he quite often used that term.

"They were murdered, weren't they?" Harry said sadly, it explained why Neville only ever mentioned his gran.

"Oh, no, their fate, one might argue is far worse." Marcus murmured quietly, "They were Aurors, well respected, unfortunately, they made the mistake of joining the Order, risking not only their lives, their child growing up an orphan, but painting further targets on their backs…but also their jobs and freedom. The Order of the Phoenix was a vigilante group, people might see it as doing something for the 'greater good' but it doesn't mean anything if you're in prison." Desperate for Harry to understand why it should be best to avoid any and all vigilante groups.

"They're in prison?" Harry gasped, well that explains why Neville might not be too keen on talking about them. Especially if they chose the war over raising their only son.

"No," Marcus refuted that statement, "They were tortured, to the point that they retreated into their own minds." It was a nice way of saying they had lost the plot and become insane, and if Longbottom wasn't friends with Harry – who desperately needed someone in his life – he wouldn't have been as kind.

Harry gasped, a soulful gentle sadness suffusing him for Neville and what he'd gone through. Naturally, he couldn't even really begin to fathom what the Aurors had gone through. As much hurt Harry had been through, he was still somewhat innocent in many ways and Marcus wanted him to retain that, but be ready for anything. It's why he never shied away from giving him the blunt uncensored truth, and giving him the ability to defend himself.

"Ever since the attack, the Longbottom's have been permanent residents of the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's hospital. There is no hope of them getting better unless revolutionized potions or spells are created in future." Marcus explained, new developments were made all the time, so who knows? Longbottom might get his parents back. He shuddered anew at the thought of being young then coherent and faced with an old and aged body.

"Does…everyone know?" Harry asked somberly, as he absently snapped the wax seal in half.

"That I cannot say," Marcus replied barely refraining from shrugging. "Most families likely won't have informed their children what happened. Others may have given a nicer version, such as they were hurt and have been in hospital since, others perhaps have no clue such evil exists in this world."

Harry huffed out a disbelieving sound, "People aren't that stupid, are they?" evil didn't exactly have an actual emotion, but Harry knew it all too well.

"It's not as easy for everyone to understand emotions or even facial cues," Marcus teased, "Others go into a lot of trouble to give their children a happy innocent childhood. Many elect to make sure they understand the way the world worked." In fact, most pureblood's don't get that innocent childhood, happy yes, but not innocent.

Harry cocked his head to the side, smoothing out the letter and straightening it. "What were your parents like?" he asked inquisitively, no small amount of jealousy suffusing him, but it was such a familiar feeling, used to it around Dudley Dursley. He had parents who would do anything for him, but had their heads buried in the sand about what kind of child they were bringing up in their staunchly 'normal' lives. He always buried it deeply within himself, refusing to open that particular can of worms. What was the point? It's not like he could get them back, although the pictures had fractured that can he kept so close.

"My father isn't what my grandfather wanted in an heir," Marcus said sounding amused, "He relentlessly blames my grandmother for her 'foolish indulgences', she's since passed on now. My father was closest to her and they had visited all around the world, each country for at least a week by the time my father left Hogwarts. They mapped it out and everything. My mother adores it, and is determined to replicate it with both my father and I."

"You've been to a different country?" Harry asked, jaw dropping open, the only place he'd been other than school was the zoo when Figg couldn't watch him. "How many?" he perked up, the desire to know so strong that it nearly surprised even him.

"One hundred, as of right now," Marcus revealed laughing at the look on Harry's face. "I have another ninety-five to go." They were likely not going to surpass his grandmother/fathers record, which his mother desired to do. She didn't have a competitive bone in her body, she just loved the idea of bonding so much.

"Is it just you and your mum?" Harry asked in wonder, sidling closer to Marcus the feelings the wizard felt for his mum suffused him and left Harry feeling overwhelmed.

"Oh, no, my father is just the heir of the Flint estate, which means he doesn't have anywhere near as much responsibility. He has a job he loves, and comes on all the holidays we go on, there's only been like three times in all the years, but that was due to illness." Marcus revealed honestly.

"I'd love to do the same thing," Harry said sincerely, "I've never been anywhere except the zoo, I went this summer because Figg couldn't take me."

"One day," Marcus agreed, Harry didn't have anyone to tell him otherwise, he was the last of the Potters, the only heir able to take on the lordship. Nobody could tell Harry what he was expected to behave or do with his life or lose his inheritance. "Do you have any more questions right now?"

Harry shook his head, "No, thank you." He answered promptly with politeness that Marcus was slowly but firmly drilling into the preteen who should already know all this. The muggles were completely barbaric, leaving their children the way they were. Hoodlums the lot of them. Their education lacked in every way possible, and they left them defenseless! Unless, Harry was the only one uneducated but he explained he attended a primary school and was educated.

Marcus nodded, before focusing on his own work, he might look like a 'troll' but he was smart. Top five percent in all classes, he had to be, everyone often forgot that those that play quidditch had to maintain a certain grade point average. Which Professor Snape would see through and remove them from Quidditch if they didn't maintain. He cared more about his student's education than quidditch. In fact, Marcus suspected he secretly abhorred the sport. He loved when the team won though, not that you'd be able to tell, the half smirk he showed the second they won then disappeared.

The next time Marcus raised his head, as if sensing something was wrong, or everything was too still, he found Harry with an impressive scowl on his face. Which was cherry red, in either embarrassment or anger, he couldn't tell which at the moment. "Harry?"

"I don't know a lot of the words," Harry said his tone subdued. The letter clenched in his hand, but luckily not scrunched up entirely.

"Come closer," Marcus insisted, setting his homework aside. "I'll read it for you, if that's okay?" seeking permission before even thinking of touching the letter never mind reading it.

Harry handed the missive over with obvious relief unaware of the trust he was giving to Marcus. After all, family letters had the potential to have information outsiders shouldn't know. Marcus blinked, before blinking rapidly again, almost gaping. This was from Arcturus Black! Lord Arcturus Black! He was thought to be dead. "Pack up, we need to go to Sev…er Professor Snape." Marcus roughly shoved his belongings into his bag, he was very pleased to see Harry actually doing as he asked without a million questions.

They were half way towards the professors' private quarters before Harry asked anything, "Is it a bad thing?" wanting to know if more bad news was coming his way. Don't get him wrong, he was still glad to be here, away from the Dursley's but who knows how long that would be?

Marcus paused, slowing down realizing he was going too fast, a smirk appearing on his face. "Oh, no, this is a good thing, a very good thing. Black's take care of their own." guiding Harry forward with his hand on his back.

"I'm not a Black," Harry couldn't help but point out.

"Soon," Marcus murmured, he would never dare risk voicing family secrets, it was likely because he had Black blood that he was able to read it himself he reckoned. Yes, he had Black blood in him, although it was somewhat distant. Distant enough that the Black family likely didn't consider him a blip on their radar. It was really only the immediate line they cared about, the direct male line at that.

Harry perplexedly followed Marcus; he could – albeit barely – sense the wizard's turmoil but he insisted it wasn't a bad thing. Mixed signals, but Marcus had never lied before so Harry had to take him at his word. Why not just tell him instead of all the secrecy?

Once they were at Severus Snape's private quarters, Marcus murmured the password to gain entrance. Not many actually had or knew the password to the wizards' private quarters. Certainly not his fellow Slytherin prefect, and to know that he was trusted by Severus? Meant more than words would ever be expressed to Marcus. None of the faculty knew the password either.

Neither were particularly surprised to see the living area and kitchen vacant. Severus Snape didn't know peace until he went to his bed at eleven o'clock in the evening. Then he was awake at the crack of dawn to repeat the process over and over again. It was intolerable, especially considering Severus didn't want to be a professor, but whilst he was one, he'd do it properly and care for those under his supervision.

The worst thing about it was his talents were laying in waste. All because Dumbledore's need for complete control of his sycophants. Like it or not, currently, Severus was indeed indebted to Dumbledore, and his freedom depended on the older wizard much to Severus' distaste.

Unlike any other first year, Harry was quite happy to get comfortable in the Potions Masters quarters. He dug into his bag and removed the diary; he was making his way swiftly through them. Not as quickly as he liked, but he did have other priorities. He couldn't begin lagging behind on his school work. Marcus and professor Snape were adamant he'd do well, if not they would ensure he did. So, he allowed only thirty minutes a day – more if he could – to reading the diaries. It was like he could have written them himself.

"Which one is that?" Marcus asked returning from the potion's lab, Severus' private one that nobody except Severus got into. Well aware that there were five diaries for Harry to get through, more would likely be coming if the witch empath was so inclined.

"It's only the second one, but it's so eerie, it's like I could be writing this," Harry commented, "But she's so lucky to have her entire family like you, it must have made her childhood a little easier." To be swarmed in love? It was a foreign concept to Harry. He knew the emotion, unfortunately, it just never been applied to him.

"Your experiences will be very similar," Marcus agreed, setting out his own work, "It's understandable." It was going to take at least half an hour before Severus would be available. The potion was at a very violate stage, and it would remain so until it needed no additional handling for the rest of its stages.

Harry made a soft noise, neither agreeing or disagreeing, they might both be Empaths but at the end of the day they were poles apart. Male, female. Spoiled, abused. Loved, hated. Family, orphaned. The list could continue on endlessly, but Harry would never wish his life on anyone, well, maybe just Voldemort.

The scribbling of the quill made plentiful background noise as he read, "Are you thirsty?"

"Serin!" Marcus called without even breaking his concentration, as he read quickly through the chapter, trying to find the information he needed – and the spelling – for the words he wanted to use for his DADA homework. Giving his left hand a sort of wave as to say go ahead.

"Uh, hi, can I get a glass of orange juice please? And two coffees?" Harry asked the house-elf hopefully.

"Coming up, young Master!" Serin squeaked out in delight, almost cooing over the look on Harry's face. He looked so unsure of himself, the poor thing, blessed be. It wasn't befitting the last of the noble and ancient house of Potter. He was still a youngling though, no doubt he'd learn how to lead. With that thought, the house-elf disappeared with a pop.

It was rather fortuitous timing, as Severus emerged from the potions lab just as the tray popped into existence. Severus looked decidedly relieved to see it there. He had a firm no drink or food policy for his labs. Not just for his own but the labs in the classroom. He was beyond gasping for a drink, a coffee would hit the spot, and sandwiches the house-elf brought up would also quench his hunger.

"What is going on?" Severus asked, he was very rarely interrupted in the middle of brewing, especially when brewing on his own time. Not that it was anything important, no breakthroughs, just the potions Harry needed. He needed a lot of potions; he likely had more potions than food and drink in his stomach at any time of the day.

Severus sat down, a sigh of relief suffusing him, he'd been intently focused on the potion for the last hour. Which meant no sitting down, no slacking. Picking up the pitcher he poured himself a small measure of orange juice and drank deeply. No pulp but recently pressed, nothing beat it.

"This," Marcus answered, handing over the rather large pad of parchment Harry had received. He hadn't even read a quarter of it, but what he did know was surprising.

Severus arched a brow, before glancing down at the blank parchment. Any other situation he would have assumed they were playing a prank on him. However, he knew Marcus was far too serious to even contemplate the idea. It was childish and juvenile and that's where his and Marcus' belief aligned entirely. "It's blank." He stated, causing both of them to look at him as if he was nuts.

Taking one piece of paper, Severus illuminated his wand, in the wand light he could see the runes glowing. "Runes, only blood can read this." Staring shrewdly between the pair of them, they had to share the same blood, depending on how far back the rune had been modified to take.

"Black blood," Marcus said idly, fascinated by the runes, "It's not the only one, there's a secrecy bond rune imbued too."

Severus nodded, confirming that he saw it, "I see it, anyone that touches the paper has their magic hooked into silence." Which meant him, although, he had no idea what it said. "I knew the Black and Flint families were connected, naturally, but not directly."

"Ursula Flint nee Black." Marcus grumbled, "Married Phineas Nigellus Black, and had five children. One of those children had taken on the Flint name due to the lack of Male heir." Not that it was a piece of history that his grandfather liked repeating, if not for his mother he wouldn't have known about her. It's not like they didn't have Flint blood, it just came predominantly from their maternal side opposed to the patriarch.

"What is in the letter that's so important?" Severus circled around getting them back on track. He was scheduled to go to the common room tonight and help his snakes that need a little…encouragement.

"You have no idea," Marcus muttered, taking the full letter back, he began to read, a guttural sound compared to Severus smooth voice.

The contents of the letter left Severus stunned, well, this changed everything.

I know! Likely a let down after the awesome action in the last chapter :) but eh not all chapters can be so fun!

A/n – it's likely someone (okay someone definitely has boo! Lol) has already figured out what the letter contains, it's sort of been alluded in the last chapter or sorts if you guys were paying attention 😉 ugh I'm also going to have to write a very eloquent letter worthy of a Black in the next chapter…what not to look forward to for 100 Alex 😊 I've never really been an eloquent person, I can write it but say it? Ha! Nope never 😊 lol may just avoid it and 'discuss' certain parts

Sorry I haven't been around this past week, came down with tonsillitis well, strep throat actually since I don't have tonsils! I hate being sick! Used to get it all the time as a kid so I had my tonsils removed which sucked since it was such beautiful weather (admittedly with quite frequent rain showers heh!) I'm doing okay now, just got a tickly throat which I hope fades soon and have some extra shifts to catch up so it might take a little longer to get the next chapter out so maybe four days instead of two just to let you know hope you enjoyed the update regardless R&R please xx