A/N TW: racism

Horcruxes and Hallows

'You're absolutely certain it was the Locket he's hidden in the cave by the cliffs?' asked Peter.

'Yes – I'm quite certain,' groaned Regulus, and appeared to be growing tired of Peter's repetitive questions. 'Kreacher told me that he was made to hide the Locket there and barely made it out alive.'

'Good,' said Peter with a nod, although he did not look entirely too sure about himself. 'And you remember exactly what preventative measures he took from anyone ever attempting to steal it?'

'A blood payment is required to enter the cave,' explained Regulus, and lowered his voice so none could overhear their conversation. 'After that, there's a boat that can take you over the lake in the cave that leads to the island in the middle. That lake is now infested with his army of creepy Inferi, by the way. On that island stands a basin filled with an emerald coloured potion. A Drink of Despair, Kreacher had called it, because he was forced to drink it to test it out. The Locket lies at the bottom of that basin, but the only way to reach it is to drink the potion in its entirety. Now,' he said as he placed a hand on Peter's mouth, 'I need you to answer me this before you say anything else. How did you manage to get this idea inside the Dark Lord's mind?'

Peter spoke as soon as Regulus lowered his hand. 'He frequently mentions how he needs time to think,' he rattled off. 'And so, I asked him where he enjoys doing his thinking the most. He then proceeds to tell me that he often goes to the cliffs of Dover to stare at the sea. I ask him: why the cliffs? He then tells me because he remembers being there as a child and found enjoyment in exploring the caves. I then proceed to tell him that I have also been to the cliffs of Dover quite frequently, but had never encountered any caves. They sure must be very secretive, don't they!? And lo and behold, he now has the brilliant idea to hide whatever this Locket truly is out there. Little does he know – I do know where the caves are.'

'I think we underestimate you too much from time to time,' said Regulus sheepishly, 'but Kreacher now also knows where the caves are, and therefore I know too.'

'Okay, fine,' said Peter as he waved it off. 'Still, we're not closer to even understanding what the Locket is – or contains. All we know is that it's important enough to protect it with everything you just mentioned. So now here's my question. How do we plan on retrieving it?'

'Should we not figure out what it is until we actually decide to go there and risk our lives to retrieve it?' said Regulus.

'Fair enough,' said Peter. 'And speaking of figuring things out – I should head back inside my Common Room. The gang's waiting for me.'

'We'll speak of this another time,' said Regulus, and with a wave he bounced off towards the Grand Staircase.

Peter made his way through the seventh floor corridor and crawled through the Fat Lady's portrait. Inside, he was met with an impatient group of friends. 'Yes yes I got the Jobberknol feathers,' he said as he held up a fist full of blue feathers in his hands. 'Professor Kettleburn clipped them straight from the bird once I mentioned I wanted to brew some Memory Potions. Said I could really use some…'

'Brilliant work, Wormtail,' said James. 'Padfoot has provided us with a fancy silver cauldron we can brew the Veritaserum with.'

'And a glass stirring rod, and a storage container – and a muslin sheet for whatever reason,' added Sirius. 'Moony managed to get his hands on a brewing station that we set up in our dormitory, and Prongs stole the remaining ingredients from Professor Slughorn's private storage. Come and take a look at what Snivvy's been writing in the margins of his Potions book.'

Peter took the book from James' hands and tilted his head to read what was written in the margins. 'he writers like my great-grandmother,' said peter. 'Fancy yet illegible. Despite being the most powerful truth serum in existence,' he read out loud, 'it can still be resisted through different methods, including the taking of its antidote, and Occlumency. What's Occlumeny? He underlined the word so it must be something important.'

'Don't know, don't care,' said James as he started making his way to their dormitory. 'I've got Erumpent fluid in my pocket, and it feels as though it could explode with any movement I make – so let's please just get this over with.'

The four Marauders made their way up to their dormitory, and hunched over the brewing station. 'Step one,' James read out loud. 'Fill half a silver cauldron with distilled water and bring to a simmer. Slowly, Snivellus scribbled next to it.' Remus grabbed a carafe from his bedside table, and filled the cauldron halfway up with water. 'Incendio,' he said as he pointed his wand under the cauldron, and a gentle fire ignited.

'Step two,' said James after the water had been brought to a simmer. 'Carefully – Snivvy underlined this part – add the erumpent fluid to the cauldron, one teaspoon at a time.' One by one, James lowered three teaspoons of erumpent fluid close to the surface of the bubbling water. With a jab of his wand, the fire was brought up to a high heat. 'Now we need to let it boil for twenty minutes until it turns magenta.'

'As we wait,' said Remus while taking a close look at his watch. 'Tell us, Prongs, have you decided yet on what you will use the Felix for?'

'I have a feeling I must go to Little Hangleton,' said James. 'There's something there that relates to You-Know-Who's background, and I intend to find out what it is. I hope that the Felix can push me in the right direction once I'm there.'

'You're never going to let this go, are you?' asked Remus.

James shook his head. 'Everything is related somehow,' he said in a serious manner. 'The Hallows. Their disappearance. Dumbledore's disappearance as well. I've told you all what Professor McGonagall has told me; that You-Know-Who is in possession of the Resurrection Stone, even if he may not know it. Grindelwald is no longer at Nurmengard, and we know from history that he was always after the Deathly Hallows. I have a need to make sense from all of this. At the very least I owe it to her.'

'Perhaps you didn't know Lily as well as you thought you did,' said Peter.

'What do you mean by that?' snapped James.

'Yes, they disappeared at the bottom of the Lake,' said Peter with a shrug. 'But you must have noticed how they were starting to become friends again at the beginning of the year after they had been avoiding each other the whole year before. They knew each other through and through whether you like it or not Prongs. We know they went somewhere, and for all we know, maybe they knew something too before they disappeared.'

James seemed about ready to grab Peter by the throat. 'How dare you say that she's in on all of this?' he yelled. 'We all knew that greasy blithering git was bound to become a Death Eater, if he wasn't already one by now. And she knew that as well as we did. None of what you're saying makes any sense Wormtail! Why are you –'

'—that's enough!' said Remus. 'Prongs, if you feel that making this truth serum to pry information out of Slughorn is not enough, then so be it. I assume it's during the Christmas break that you want to go to Little Hangleton?'

'Yes,' grunted James. 'How's the potion coming along? We're going to need it before Slughorn hosts his last club party before the break.'

'Be patient,' said Remus as he bend over the cauldron. 'We need to get this right at once, or there won't be any information for you to pry out of Slughorn at all. It's already turning into a slight pinkish colour.' The group remained silent as they watched the water slowly turn into a beautiful shade of magenta. 'This should be about right,' he said as he looked at his watch. Twenty minutes in. Time to add the newts, and Snape wrote something in the margins about it as well, but I can't really decipher it.'

'Newts will not fully dissolve,' Sirius managed to read. 'Something something, passing through muslin will kill – no, will, something any bones. I suppose we just have to make sure no bones remain in the potion by using the muslin. Step three says to add one newt at a time, five in total, and keep stirring with the glass rod until dissolved. We also have to add the black beetle eyes, fifty-seven of them, slowly until the potion turns a dark shade of purple. We have to keep stirring for a period of one hour. How the git had the patience for any of this is beyond me.'

'He's clearly made it before,' said James as he placed the muslin just below the surface, and added a single newt on top, 'and he even found ways to improve it. Makes you wonder who he's been testing it out on.'

'Not important right now, Prongs,' said Remus as he took a hold of the container with black beetle eyes. 'Padfoot, start stirring until the first newt is gone, and I'll take over once all the newts have been properly dissolved. Prongs, just make sure the bones are taken out. Wormtail, check the time and clock it. Read the next step to us. I'll add the eyes.'

'After an hour the potion should have attained a dark red colour,' Peter read out loud. 'Start adding the Jobberknol feathers, seven of them, one at the time stirring clockwise, Snivvy added that in the margins. Once it has turned a dark shade of purple, remove from the heat.'

After an hour, the potion had turned into a desired state of red. One by one, Peter dropped the feathers into the potion as James took over to stir. Slowly the potion turned into the colour of nightshade, and took the cauldron from the fire. 'Transfer the potion to a storage container and leave to mature,' Peter continued to read, 'uncovered, for a full moon cycle. Hold up. Does this mean we should have started brewing this during a full moon?'

'What are you looking at me for?' said Remus with a raised eyebrow. No, just – give me the book. '...for a full moon cycle. Perhaps it just needs to cure until the moon is back into the stance it is now. Just one full cycle of the moon.'

'Perhaps we should have read the whole thing before we started,' groaned James. 'Anything else in there we should've known beforehand?'

'Snape made a note here,' said Remus. 'Best proceed, no it probably says procured, during the winter months. Lower temperature in brewing process increase potency. Okay, it may not be winter yet, but do we really need it to be that extremely potent? It's strong enough as it is.'

'And what should it look like after the full moon cycle?' asked James.

'After the cycle it should look completely clear, and resemble water,' said Remus. 'Padfoot, could you pour it over to the container you brought?'

'I'm on it,' said Sirius as he took the cauldron. 'As for now, Prongs, I'm looking at you in particular, all we can do is wait.'

'All we can do is wait,' James repeated with a sigh. 'We better get going I suppose. Dinner must be served by now.'

'Boys,' a voice called out, followed by a few knocks on their door. 'Boys are you in there?'

'Well be out in a minute, Alice,' said Remus.

'It's important!' said Alice. 'Please come out here!'

Remus opened the door, and was met with Alice and Mary bouncing on their feet. 'Here, take a look at this!' said Alice in delight.

"This is more than I ever could have hoped for. I will be there. Thank you,' Remus read out loud from the piece of paper. 'Who'se this from?'

'It's from Petunia,' said Mary. 'Lily's sister. She's coming to Hogsmeade this Christmas!'

...o0o…

'I can't believe you want to do this!' screamed Petunia. 'It's been three months. Just THREE MONTHS! She disappeared. That doesn't mean she died, dad! She has to be out there somewhere! SHE HAS TO BE!'

'Petunia, darling,' said Erwin with tears streaming down her face. 'The British government has given up on trying to find them. The Ministry for Magic has given up on trying to find them. Dumbledore has disappeared into nothing with all of this. I'm at my wits end here! I need a place to start putting this to rest!'

'By creating a memorial for them?' she shrieked back. 'By placing a tombstone on an empty grave? It is finite! It will mark the end of all hope!'

'Petunia, please, you have to understand that –'

'—no! NO I DO NOT UNDERSTAND!' she yelled. Before Erwin could speak any further, she rushed her way out of the house and ran up to the street. All she felt was anger lately, and the little spark of hope she had left in her heart came in the form of a train ticket up to Hogsmeade for the following month. She continued to stomp her way through town, making her way towards the farm on the outskirts of Cokeworth where their horse was stabled. If in luck, her mother would still be there so she could yell at her too.

Petunia was in luck. Arnica had just finished saddling up Foxy, and was busying herself braiding her manes. 'Mum!' she spat. 'What is the meaning of all this?'

'I see your father has shared his idea with you,' answered Arnica calmly. 'What is it that angers you so much?'

'Just – AARGH!' yelled Petunia as she pulled her mother away from their horse. 'Do you agree with any of this? Is this what you want as well? To put her down in the ground to be forgotten about? For her name to be engraved in stone for all eternity?'

'I want to give your father a piece of serenity,' said Arnica with a smile, and wiped a stray tear from Petunia's cheek. 'And I do believe that he is right, too. Any chance of finding her as left us, and before us now stands a void of darkness that I would rather not look in to.'

'But why not?' whimpered Petunia. 'Why not hold on a little longer? I feel as though she could still return for Christmas break. Like she was never gone at all! Why now?' Arnica pulled her daughter into an embrace, and Petunia loudly sobbed on her mother's shoulder as the tears started to flow. 'I'm not ready for this,' she said. 'I'm not ready to give up just yet.'

'I understand,' said Arnica. 'Truly, I do. More than anything in the world, I do. But I hope that you can find it in your heart to understand your father's need for this also.'

'No!' said Petunia as she pushed her mother away, and shook her head vigorously. 'No I'm not ready for any of this! Please, I'm not ready. Please...I just need more time.'

'Take Foxy,' said Arnica, 'and I will go and speak to your father about this. 'If it is more time that you need, then time is what you will get.' She cupped her daughters face into her hands and placed a kiss upon her brow. 'Once the time has come for you to mourn, then we shall mourn together as a family.'

Petunia nodded in understanding, and let the tears fall freely as Arnica left the stables. She turned to Foxy, and hugged the horse as an old friend. 'I bet you miss her too,' she whispered to her. 'Let's go to the woods, and maybe we can find her there.' With a good swing of her leg she got up on Foxy's saddle, and with a light tap against her flank they walked their way to the woods.

Left and right Petunia would dodge the low-hanging branches of the trees, and reminisced in the memories of all the times she had come out here with Lily, racing through the trees on Foxy as fast as they could. Severus would have been with them, from time to time. She hadn't always appreciated it. Despised it even, whenever he would get all the attention from her, and she was left to the side to watch them play in their magical world. But Foxy was good at judging character, and not once had she thrown Severus off her back as he learnt to ride on her. It made the good times outweigh the bad, and that she had enjoyed seeing how well Severus took care of Lily – and that regardless of how she personally felt about Severus, she also knew her sister would always be in safe hands as long as he was around for her. But none of that mattered anymore, knowing what he was about to become.

'Diffindo!' Foxy stepped aside just in time, as a branch had nearly fallen on Petunia's head. Diffindo! she heard again, and in the distance she could see a large branch clatter its way down to the ground. Before she could say anything, a loud Bombarda! Followed, and a tree that stood no less than fifty feet away, blew up from its centre and rained down on her in a sea of splinters. Foxy neighed loudly in fear, and whoever was blowing up the trees must have taken notice, and she came speeding out from behind a bush.

'I'm so sorry!' cried Eileen. 'I thought I was alone, and I – oh, Petunia. It's you dear. I'm so sorry about all of this. Truly. Is everything okay?'

Swiftly Petunia jumped off Foxy's back and tied her halter to a tree nearest to her. 'What on earth are you doing?' she yelled as she stomped her way up to Eileen. 'Blowing up trees! Have you completely lost your mind!?'

'I'm sorry!' said Eileen as she held up her hands. 'I should have been more cautious.' In her right hand she held up her brand new fir wand for Petunia to see. 'I got a new wand and I've been practising with it. I'll put it away if it makes you feel any b – are you okay love?'

Petunia placed her hands over her eyes and started sobbing loudly. 'It's not your wand that bothers me,' she said in between wailing sobs. 'I just feel as if I can't escape from all this magic disrupting my life!'

Eileen wasn't quite sure what to do, and petted Petunia awkwardly on the shoulder. 'What happened today that brought you out here?' she asked carefully.

'Dad's got in in his stupid head that he wants to create a memorial place for Lily,' said Petunia as she wiped a stream of tears from her face. 'Did you know about this? Is this something that you're planning to do for Severus as well?'

'I haven't heard anything from your parents about this,' said Eileen. 'And if it makes you feel any better, I haven't been planning anything similar for Severus. I don't think my heart is ready for that. But do know, Petunia, that I understand your father's need for this. We all need a place to go if we lost that what we love most in this world. I mean, is that not why you came out here to the woods today? Is this place not your memorial?'

'Severus must have told you,' said Petunia, and seemed to be able to regain her breath. 'We did used to come out here all the time.'

'Then I suppose that must be Foxy?' said Eileen. 'Could I pet her?'

'Yes, of course,' said Petunia. 'She's very friendly.'

Eileen scratched Foxy behind the ears, and she seemed to want more pets after that. 'Please don't tell anyone you saw me out here with a wand,' said Eileen in a serious manner. 'It's important that it stays a secret.'

'Your secret's safe with me, if I can tell you a secret too,' said Petunia.

'Of course, whatever it is,' said Eileen.

'I'm planning on going to Hogsmeade, and my parents don't know about it,' said Petunia. 'I've been in contact with some of Lily's friends, and they are going to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas. They will meet me there.'

Eileen seemed to think for a moment before she rose with the next question. 'How come you don't want your parents to know about this?' she asked.

Petunia raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. 'How come you don't want anyone to know you've got a new wand?' she asked.

'Defensive, are we?' Eileen answered with a smile. 'But I will tell you. You're familiar with the fact that Severus has been staying with his radicalised friends of his up in Wiltshire, while lying about staying at Hogwarts during Christmas. As it turns out, he's been staying at a place called Malfoy Manor, owned by Lucius Malfoy. He is the newly acquired husband of my cousin, Narcissa Black, who I ran into while I was at Diagon Alley to buy a new wand. Her and I agreed to write to each other, and this morning I received a letter back from her, inviting me up to Hogsmeade to meet with her there in private. She knows things,' she said while subconsciously lowering her voice. 'Things I have no understanding of because I've been away for so long. But with Severus gone – I need to return. I need to reclaim something that I lost a long time ago.'

'When exactly are you planning on going to Hogsmeade?' asked Petunia, who seemed intrigued.

'We haven't quite set a date yet,' said Eileen. 'Why do you ask?'

'I was wondering if perhaps we could go together,' said Petunia. 'I'm planning on leaving on the nineteenth of December. The ten o'clock train from King's Cross, but I've never been there before...and all I know of magic are what Lily and Severus have told me over the years. I don't quite know what to expect, and –'

'—I will go with you,' Eileen interrupted, 'on one condition. The question I just asked you. You're a grown woman. I will not go to your parents and tell them of your plans because you're old enough to make those by yourself. But I do want to know why you feel a need to do this behind their backs.'

'For the same reason I came out here,' said Petunia. 'My parents are trying to make peace with the idea that she will be gone forever. And the more they do that, the more determined I get to find out what happened to her. I need answers. I need to see the place where she vanished from the face of the Earth, because there's a restlessness in me that I cannot still until I see it for myself. And I know that they would not want me to go there. It's where she disappeared. Any Officials from the magical world have given up on us. And worst of all, they might fear that something similar to me might happen. It's just better if they didn't know at all.'

'Alright,' said Eileen with a nod, 'but just do me one favour. As a mother who has seen her son disappear far too many times already without knowing when and where he would return; leave them a note. Tell them where you've gone as you leave, and tell them that you will come back once you've found what you are looking for. Your parents are wonderful people, Petunia. They raised two beautiful, yet vastly different women, who are equally loved by them. They deserve to know that you are safe.'

'I will,' said Petunia. 'I promise. Does this mean we have a deal? Will you come with me to King's Cross on that day?'

'I'll let Narcissa know,' said Eileen. 'We'll do what we must, for the both of us.'

...o0o…

Tobias recalled what he was shown in the diary. The sickening sensation of being pulled into the story relived in his mind like a broken record. Over and over he saw the very goblet that was the source of all things terrible in his life. How he saw a fat Witch, who had introduced herself as Hepzibah Smith, had claimed to be a descendant of Helga Hufflepuff, and how she had given the goblet and the locket of Salazar Slytherin to Tom Riddle to see. But how she had obtained it – neither him nor the diary knew for sure.

Panic came and went like waves crashing against the shore, and with shaking hands he had asked the diary the questions that had been on his mind for so long. Who was Gellert Grindelwald, really? And the answer that came made the world crumble down on him. A Dark Wizard from another time. He already knew as much after overhearing that Kreacher thing speak to its owner. But reading that he would pry on the fickle minded Muggles to do his bidding for him...it brought back all that was ugly. The pretense of being treated as his equal, and to have an equal share of the power once he found what Grindelwald had been looking for. But Grindelwald had never been truly there. From a safe distance he would enter the minds of the unwilling, and made them believe he was there in front of them. He held more power in his fingertips than the Queen of England. Untouchable and unyielding.

And perhaps worst of all, Erwin had been right all along. Grindelwald has been nothing more than a ghost inside his head.

From this point on he poured his heart out into the diary. From when he voluntarily decided to join the British army, to the war breaking out and leading men into the trenches. From meeting Grindelwald there, and his obsessive search of the Holy Grail. Meeting Eileen and learning about how she was a Witch, and how it had made him feel inferior. Of having a son with her, who had gone missing along with his friend inside the Great Lake at Hogwarts. Of learning about the uprising within the Wizarding world, and of the one they call the Dark Lord.

And the diary had answers. Words of comfort and awe. Of advice and understanding. Anecdotes and encouragements. Tobias no longer left the diary lingering in Severus' bedroom. He held it close at all times. Finding comfort in the words the diary provided whenever he was on the verge of panic. As of late, he would hide it under his pillow, and would write in it as soon as the nightmares awoke him.

More and more the nightmares seemed to take on the face of Erwin. The children who used to bully him relentlessly, and they all looked at him with the same furious green eyes. Go back to where you came from! Telling him that he looked dirty and needed to wash himself as they beat him down. But I was born here! I belong here! And in the dream he knew that he was looking through the eyes of his own son.

The children from his childhood faded away, but it made room for the day that he was named Captain of the British Army. Experienced, and yet still very young and reckless. He felt the tingling sensation of power as he looked at his own hands in his dream.Fuckin' curry munchers rising through the ranks now!The disappointment in the eyes of his subordinates feeding into his aggression. Congratulations, Captain Snape! said a young man with an impressive ginger moustache, and shook up the power in his hand. He had meant it. He would have followed him anywhere. My only friend when the war started. His hands wouldn't let Evans eat for three full days.

Lieutenant Evans morphed into Grindelwald. He stood there on the shores of Normandy, tall and proud, and calling to him as an enlightened holy figure standing against a hellfire backdrop. A saviour in his final hour of need. With a voice like thunder, and a tongue to drown the throat of war as Death fell all around him, Grindelwald took him by the hand and lulled him into a state of absolute safety. The men around him dropping dead like flies. Bodies torn apart. The stench of guts spilling out. Screams of horror filling his ears from all sides. They all fell at the mercy of the ghost in your head! And yet there was dirt nor blood to be found on his hands.

As Tobias awoke his hands were covered in sweat. From underneath his pillow he grabbed the diary, and furiously started writing about how god-like Grindelwald had been on that beach on Normandy. Presenting himself as if he were Vishnu the Saviour, but really he had been Kartikeya, the God of War, and his dark-blue robes the colours of Paravani, the peacock Kartikeya rode on that trampled the snake.

...o0o…

The Dark Lord had hid them with great success. The Locket was now secure in the cave by the cliffs. The Ring he had placed under the floorboards in the Gaunt's shack. The Cup was secured inside Bellatrix' vault, and the Diadem was still residing in the Room of Requirement. The Diary, Lucius had assured him, was hidden in a place only he knew. It was the insurance he needed that if one could ever pry the locations of the Horcruxes out of his mind – there would always be one that could never be found through him.

The peace of mind that hiding the Horcuxes had brought him lasted by a mere moment. Upon his return to Malfoy Manor he learnt of the news that there still hadn't been any sightings of Grindelwald nor Dumbledore, and neither of Severus Snape and his Mudblood friend. All vanished into thin air like a puff of smoke. Gone and ready to be forgotten about as time progressed. But he knew there was more brewing beneath the surface. Dumbledore would never leave the castle he loved so dearly – and he would come back one day. As for Grindelwald...he knew of the shared history between the two men. How Dumbledore had once followed Grindelwald to the ends of the earth to rule over Muggle-kind as his right-hand man. His life devoted to finding the Deathly Hallows – some ridiculous fairytale. Desiring immortality when there were many other ways to obtain it.

He had met him once, briefly, in Little Hangleton when he was still a mere student at Hogwarts. He had just used the Imperius Curse on Morfin Gaunt to kill the Riddle family, and turned the Ring he had taken from Morfin's hand into his second Horcrux. No words were exchanged between him and Grindelwald, and up till this very day he wasn't sure what he had been after in that forsaken little village. A question that rose up in his mind like an orbital comet. Far away and mostly forgotten, until the time came again that it would have to be remembered.

The Mudblood girl was a strange one. He did not recall Severus Snape ever so much as mention the girl. Learning that they grew up together in their filthy Muggle town, and of all the things they've shared over the years – and Severus had been hiding it from him. Even when he pried inside his mind when it was still fragile as glass and thin as parchment, the only sign of her he had ever seen was her yelling at him to leave her alone. Her name buried deep under layers and layers of hardened emotions, and her presence imprisoned in a secret cave. They were not friends. Or perhaps not anymore. And yet, there was a solid foundation between the two that appeared stronger than their differences. Stronger than an exchanging of bad words. Stronger than the boy's desire to join the cause. Stronger than anything else on this earth.

There was love.

A/N In the 1920s UK, there were an estimate of less than 10.000 Indian immigrants (and the time I assumed Tobias' mother came to the UK). The vast majority of them living in London and other major cities, and a few others scattered here and there.
For an Indian family to move to a small town, and for a family to be of mixed culture even more, was an incredibly rare thing at the time. Small town UK still had very little understanding of living side by side with other cultures, and it wasn't uncommon to find an announcement in the local newspapers that a foreign family had moved into town. It would result in locals even peeking through the immigrants windows to catch a glimpse of them. Many locals would find the new families intriguing and were merely curious about the immigrants native background, but of course there were also loads of people who did not appreciate this so called disturbance within their own culture, and it would often result in racist outings.

Discrimination was not illegal in Britain until 1965!

I made Tobias half British half Indian this way for a very important reason. It's a reflection on the same struggle that Severus dealt with being half Muggle and half Wizard. Society has a tendency to force you to pick a side, and for Tobias it meant that he wanted to prove that he was British just like his white peers, more than anything else. It's why he joined the British Army and climbed his way through the ranks – but ended up there for all the wrong reasons. His position of power in the military gave him the free range to get "even" with the white community who once had discriminated against him. This, too, reflects on Severus, who joined the Death Eaters because it would give him power in a way that he previously never had a chance to hold. Severus, too, of course, still bares his Indian features. In the 1970s the Indian population in the UK had grown to an estimate of 375.000, which is still a very small amount compared to the rest of the population. Severus would have had to deal with racist remarks just as his father had, and it largely contributes to his dislike of Muggles.

To add another (fun) fact to this whole story (as it's not so much fun), more than 2 million Indian men fought for Britain in WW2. The largest volunteer force to have ever existed in history.

A/N If you google www dot Archive dot org with Advanced Potion Making by Libatius Borage, you'll find a free digital copy of the Snape version (messages scribbled in the margins) of the book.
On page 120 I took the info for making the Veritaserum, including Severus' notes.
It's 192 pages long and there's a lot of references to Alchemy and the spells he invented. It even shows how eerily similar the symbol for the Philosopher's Stone and the Deathly Hallows are on page 14. (And also the Masonic square and compass). It's a lot of fun to leaf through.

A/N Ministry for Magic is British English. Ministry of Magic is American English.

A/N "(…) the stone was placed inside a Golden Snitch and left to Harry Potter in Dumbledore's will. Its magic was last used to recall Lily, James, Sirius and Lupin, as Harry prepared to face death. Voldemort himself never learned the significance of the stone." - Rowling, Wizardingworld