Summary:

Quirrel POV - Harry meets his healers - Amelia At the ministry - Dumbledore.

Notes:

Well... So any attempt at a schedule went out a window...

I got a new job shortly after my last post and that changed my free time significantly, instead of being busy every evening, I was busy sporadically throughout the day. I then got a bit ill and have since recovered. Then I kept loosing half the chapter, I swear I fully rewrote the healer section of this chapter like 4 times over the months just because my laptop would update overnight.

But regardless it is out, I hope you enjoy, criticism and corrections welcome.

Chapter 8: Paths Converge

Quirinus Quirrell had an interesting life, he had been born to a half-blood father and pureblood mother in a tryst that led to his mother being disowned by her birth family, the Prewets. Sorted into Ravenclaw, when he eventually made it to Hogwarts, he flourished in the school. Gaining excellent marks in Defence against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Charms. He had also taken the optional classes of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, hoping to join the most mysterious department of the ministry upon his graduation. It was in his final year that his life changed, a rising star in politics had managed to lobby the ministry to force Hogwarts to reinstate an old class, replacing one of his favourites. Due to the fact he was midway through the newt material for DADA, he was rather peeved when he found out that this change would essentially mean that he would have to take his NEWT DADA exam at the ministry if he wanted it.

However, when he cracked open the new textbook he was instantly hooked. The explanations Adras potter laid out helped fill in several areas he had struggled to understand within DADA, getting the second perspective of the subject really helped him.

The teacher for the subject was a tall man swathed in black, towering over their similarly dressed potions master by a good half foot. Lord Gaunt, was an excellent teacher and effectively helped his 7th year students' study for their OWLs in Dark Arts. The 7th year students that year were studying for their OWLs in the new subject whilst the sixth years were cramming to get their OWLs done in one year as well so they could take their NEWT in the subject in their seventh year. He envied the fifth years who, whilst still crammed to get their OWL in one year, were able to take the normal two years to get their NEWT. He had flown through the material and asked Lord Gaunt for extra tutoring, this was apparently the correct thing to do as he found himself being approached by his teacher not long before the exams offering him an apprenticeship under him.

His first year as an apprentice had been spent studying for his NEWT and also being a teaching assistant. He found he enjoyed helping the children learn and grow and also that when he brushed up on the material they were covering in the classes for the next week, he remembered far more of it than if he was just studying for exams. He quickly leveraged this and passed his NEWT Dark Arts within the spring term.

Not long after his mark came through that he had got an outstanding, Lord gaunt sat him down to have a little chat. The revelations in those conversations were extreme and made him question his life choices. The fact that Voldemort was not only alive but Lord Gaunt himself. The fact that he hadn't been able to make any inferences in that direction until he read a slip of paper revealing the fact that Lord Gaunt and Lord Voldemort were one and the same was telling in his method of obfuscation. The handwriting wasn't his master's but a more elegant and italic hand. Which made sense to him, less chance of accidentally revealing his identity if he isn't the secret keeper. He had already experienced enough dark magic and knew his own core lent sufficiently into the cold embrace of the dark that he agreed to be marked when he was asked. Being a death eater changed almost nothing about his daily life, he still studied and worked on his mastery project, he still helped teach Dark Arts at Hogwarts, and he still received dirty looks from Dumbledore on the daily.

The only thing that really changed is his attendance at the monthly meetings held by his lord and a greater awareness of the movements in wizarding politics. The Hayfods had taken a majority away from Dumbledore's Progressive party shortly after the war had ended and held that majority in face of an assault from both the Progressives and the ministry backed Conservative Party. In conjunction with the Shireite party the Hayfods had been able to act with impunity pushing through several motions, one of which, the WCP act had actually had cross party support. Finding out that Lord bloody Voldemort had written most of that act made him laugh.

He finished marking the last 3rd year exam with a cramp in his hand. Sure, he loved teaching, but marking was probably the only major downside. Overall, they had improved. There were only 3 protest exams in this batch, down from the 5 or 6 that had been common when he started apprenticing under his master. The overall quality of the work was also much better than even last year's 3rd year. Granted this group had only ever been taught the Dark Arts instead of the biased and limited subject of DADA, so they probably had a better grasp. Two of the protest papers were just answered with "Dark Magic is Evil" for every question. He joyfully had marked those ones with a big red T and a 0 out of 112. He knew the students and one had been skiving every lesson this year and the other had been seeming to work fine up until he came back from Ostara break with a much gloomier attitude. He made a note of the name Gerald Fitzdonald and would pass it on to his master to see if the boy could be brought around. The final protest paper was stained entirely black with ink like a pot had been spilt on it. Except, he knew that the quills used in exams were linked to a single master inkwell and drew from that using a non-spatial summoning charm to remain full. So, the student didn't have an inkwell to spill. It was this that led to him seeing that the paper had score lines crisscrossing the entire page. The student had coloured his entire exam paper black. Given the paper for the third year was 4 feet of parchment cut into 4 leaves, which must have taken most of the 2-hour exam.

He noted down the marks for this last batch in the record and tapped the update rune on the side of the enchanted paper. This would update his master's records with the marks and allow him to submit them for report cards and such. He filed away the exams in the cabinet in his office before returning his focus back to his desk. He pulled one of the loose sheets of parchment towards him. Its surface was covered in lines of complex arithmetic equations. Arithmancy was kind of like muggle calculus on fairy dust. Sure, the standard integral was finding the area beneath a graphed curve, but the Japes integral found the area between an arithmantic equation and magical background. He barely understood it beyond the basics and his masters work was so far beyond anything he could do as to look like a toddler vs a university level mathematician. Still, he knew enough for what he needed for his project.

The majority of the page was actually him confirming that the sequence of runes and ingredients he was using for his ritual would not kill him by drawing too much magic from the caster. This was high ritualism after all. The basic definition of which was a ritual that used more magic than any wizard can reasonably provide. There were more esoteric levels of course and he had no doubt that he would see some of these eldritch rituals at some point in his career. His ritual however was not so fae as to call upon powers mankind should not grasp. It was merely a refinement to a blood empowerment ritual meant to give one a weaker version of mage sight. It would never hold a candle to the gift of the Blacks or Princes, but it was strong enough to be useful in research. The original ritual lasted for a year and a day and required the blood sacrifice of a Muggles' eyes to carry it out. He was certain he could alter the ritual to merely require cow's eyes in exchange for a 3 month affect window.

His arithmancy looked good, it was only a discrepancy in the other areas of the ritual that were causing issues now. He might have to change the array to use a heptagonal star, but that would mandate the use of gold dust for drawing at least a balance rune in each runic repeat. If he could get the six-pointed star to work the cost of the ritual would also be a fraction of the previous. Silver was far cheaper than pure gold.

"… missed his face by a hair. Artus spun on his heel and lashed out with his wand. His own bright green spell bolt flying towards his assailant."

Harry lounged in the armchair set in the reading corner of the Black library. He had the second book in the All-fathers Garden series in his lap and was thoroughly enjoying the antics of apprentice garden-keeper Artus and his trials to protect the magical garden that was assailed by Mudblood's and blood traitors alike. He was just getting to the big reveal that Harry had seen coming from a mile off. The book had been hinting that Artus's older brother, Lux, had been corrupted by a blood traitor in the Not-Hogwarts of this fictional magical kingdom. The concept of blood traitors had been something this book had really helped him understand. Mudblood's had been covered a lot in the first book, but this one focussed on the slightly more insidious blood traitors.

Purebloods or Half-bloods who despite their connection to ambient magic, either reject the old ways and the blessings of mother magic and the witch-father, or those that breed with muggles. It made his lip turn at the thought of it. Denying the reality of your own magic and siding with such… filth made his stomach turn.

As he contemplated this, the doors to the library opened and his Grandpa strode in.

"Harry, the healers are here to see how you have recovered." The older man said as he made his way towards the young boy laying back in the armchair. Harry felt a spark of trepidation at his Grandpas words. This visit would determine if he could start occlumency training and his grandfather had said that a basis in occlumency was paramount for a successful dark wizard. He shut the heavy story book in his lap and moved it to the table beside the armchair before standing.

"They are in the parlour waiting for you. I decided to have them meet there instead of in your room." Lord Black said as Harry walked towards him. Harry nodded, whilst it wasn't a hard rule, not allowing non-family into the family areas of the castle was something he appreciated.

"Grandpa, who is the healer?" Harry asked as he looked up at his grandpa. He thought he had grown an inch or so since arriving here, but he also thought it might be the posture lessons.

"Well, the Primary healer that I have contracted on your behalf is Master Greengrass, and his apprentice Alois Pomfrey. Master Greengrass is the uncle of one of your to be school mates Daphne Greengrass, and he has his own daughter in the year above you, Genine Greengrass." Grandpa Arcturus explained. Harry's mind whirred, The Greengrass' were a noble pureblood house, was Master Greengrass the heir? Lords would have their title supersede Masteries, but heir could sometimes be superseded if the mastery was more pertinent.

"Is Master Greengrass the Heir Greengrass as well?" Harry asked, deciding that his own rudimentary knowledge of the customs was not deep enough to risk making a decision on how to treat the older pureblood he was about to meet. Arcturus looked down at the smaller child beside him as they began walking out of the library.

"No, Master Greengrass is not the current heir to the house Greengrass, unlike the houses of Black and Gaunt, who's inheritances are agnatic, with cognatic passthrough, the house of Greengrass is Absolutely Cognatic in their inheritance. As such there have been as many Primary Lady's of House Greengrass as there have Lords over the years. They are one of only 3 houses to do this, with the others being the house of Dagworth, and the house of Moon, although the latter is on the brink of losing their title. The current heir Greengrass is the Current Lord Greengrass's firstborn Daughter, Daphne Greengrass, your peer." Grandpa explained as they walked out of the library and down the corridor that led to the reception areas and the visitor's parlour he had met Madam Bones in. The long gallery was lined in landscapes and the occasional moving portrait on one wall and with the varied viewpoints of the castle's windows on the other. Harry had grown very comfortable living in this grand abode over the past week and a bit since arriving here tired and groggy after that fateful day at Gringotts.

This morning, Arcturus had received his full guardianship papers from the ministry and had promptly gone about setting up the elements that he was barred from doing until his guardianship was confirmed. The first of these was his healthcare and the next was actually a personal portkey licence. Harry fingered the small Silver raven hanging around his neck and knew that if he held it and whispered "Toujours Pur". He would be whisked away through all but the strongest of wards back to Ravenloft Castle. Grandpa had presented it to him shortly after a second owl arrived with the confirmation of his licence for a personal portkey had been granted.

Harry entered the parlour to find the normal seating area replaced by a single chaise lounge. Two men in lime green robes stood beside it. One was broad shouldered and had light blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. His features were elegant and noble, a slightly different yet recognisable cast. The other man was much younger, late teens to early twenties. His features were much planer but held a rugged quality to them despite his young age. His black hair was tied back in a similar manner to the blonde healers and his light brown eyes seemed to assess Harry as he strode in beside Arcturus. The blonde healer stepped forwards, his green robes flowing around him as he moved.

Lord Black smiled as Harry walked confidently into the room, his head held high and his posture straight, a far cry from the beaten and wary child he had been just over a week ago. He felt a swell of pride in his grandson's progress, but he also knew that there was much more to do.

"Harry, this is Master Greengrass and his apprentice, Alois Pomfrey," Arcturus introduced, motioning to the two healers. "They are here to assess your recovery and make sure everything is on track."

Harry nodded, a hint of nervousness flickering in his emerald eyes. He had been through so much already, but he trusted his grandfather and knew that this was another step in reclaiming his life.

"Good afternoon, Heir Potter-Black," Master Greengrass greeted, his voice calm and reassuring. "I'm Master Darius Greengrass, as the Lord Black introduced, Master Spellman, and Academic Master Of Healing and Dark Healing, This is Apprentice Alois Pomfrey, my assistant. We are to be your primary healers for the foreseeable future. As I understand it, today we are checking your recovery progress. If you can take any enchanted objects off, no need to remove your rings, but any wands or protective amulets could alter our results." Master Greengrass said. Harry went to start taking off his portkey necklace but quickly found that he couldn't.

"Hang on Harry, let me help you with that, it has a charm to make sure it can't be removed from your person or so you can't be forced to take it off by coercion." His grandpa moved behind him and with steady cold hands lifted the silver chain from around his neck and tucked it into his waistcoat pocket. Harry unlatched his wand holster and handed it to the old man. He took a deep breath and stepped forwards; he would be brave.

Harry settled onto the chaise and looked up at the ceiling, his mind briefly wandered to the ornate patterns above. The younger healer, Alois Pomfrey, stepped forward and began casting a series of diagnostic spells, his wand moving in precise, controlled motions. The results were displayed in a floating, translucent script above Harry, showing various aspects of his physical and magical health. The older healer studied the symbols and arcane marks, flicking his own want through them and moving the eldritch magical constructs to parchment.

"Things are looking good so far, you have put on 5lb and grown 2/3 of an inch, the scarring in your old wounds has lessened and your organs are looking much healthier. Your magic is looking less stressed and is doing much less to support your body. Your shoulder looks much better, the tears in your tendons and damage to your cartilage are showing signs of healing. Another few weeks on this potions regimen and It will be difficult to tell you had these injuries in the first place." Darius smiled at Harry as he explained.

Harry's thoughts stilled at those words, a life of punishment and maltreatment washed away by a few weeks of potions. It felt… Anticlimactic. Like all the pain he had endured at the tender hands of his filthy muggle overseers was just an illusion. He felt a spark of anger at it all being so easy. This was warred against, however, by a much stronger feeling of vindication and glee. The mere idea that soon the damage they had done to him, all the scars and broken bones where fading and soon their mark would be off his physical form. He could leave them behind that little bit more.

"Do you believe him ready for Occlumency training?" Grandpa asked the healer, dragging harry from his introspection.

"His magic is far more stable now than his notes from St Mungo's last week detail. Given how long it will likely be before the lad will be actually performing any mind magics I would say he is certainly good to start learning the theory and practicing the Sphere 1 exercises of the mind arts." Darius explained to his Grandpa. "Although I would hold off on anything more advanced than that, particularly any intrusion training for at least another month."

"That's good to hear, and we don't have anything of that nature planned for at least a while." Arcturus nodded and smiled at Harry as he sat up on the chaise. He held out the boy's wand holster and Amulet portkey. "You can go back to the library until Dinner, Tilly will fetch you."

Harry stood up from the chaise and eagerly walked over to his grandpa and taking the proffered wand holster, strapping it back onto his arm then putting the necklace back around his neck and tucking the amulet back into his shirt. "Thank you grandpa." He then turned to his healers. "And thank you Master Greengrass and Apprentice Pomfrey." Harry bowed slightly as was appropriate and left with eager, quick steps, excited to return to his book.

The Ministry was a hectic mess on the best of days, today however, it was somehow worse. Internal schedules for upcoming trials and notices to defendants and witnesses had been sent out and the buzz generated by having merlin damned Dumbledore on the docket gave her a headache. Her inbox was full of people snooping and submitting spurious information requests. Those she happily stamped with her denied stamp and sent back.

Amelia Bones stood from her desk to stretch her legs, she had spent the morning dealing with the information requests and putting the finishing touches on her statements for her position as prosecution. She returned to the desk and picked up the sheaf of parchments that, in her opinion, were the most damming to the muggles fate. It was the results of the magical scans on Harry from . There was of course the large quantity of injuries to his person and a large quantity of which could not be written off as standard rambunctious child. This was further enhanced by the signs of neglect, the starvation, chronic dehydration, and malnourishment evident in his body. All of this was however overshadowed by a factor that she had just received a consult on. Few knew how they formed, but each one was a calamity, and according to Master Elwin Starkhold, Harry potter showed signs of nascent obscuras formation. It was still the very earliest stages and likely would have not fully formed before school started and thus attenuated naturally, but still was alarming. His readings were apparently borderline and if he had another major incident of extreme emotion or suppression event of his accidental magic, he would have become an obscurial.

Allowing a magical child to form an obscurus was a crime even older than the WCP and would be brought up as an additional charge at the trial, one that would be applied to the muggles exclusively. Thankfully Master Elwin had accepted to be an expert witness before the court and could explain the esoteric readings a little better. She hadn't known what Mauve Othalla meant until the master healer had lead her through the scales for strength of the twisted magic within the boy's core. The spellcasting practice he was getting will be helping to straighten out the torsion that could have formed into the most tragic of magical beings.

She filed this report and the testimonies of the healers and aurors who interacted with the child back into her case file and moved to the cabinet on one side of her room, tapping it with a wand to bring the files she needed to the front. There was a particular case file she wanted to reference, the last known Obscurus reported to the ministry in England. Tacticus Gaul, the halfblood son of a muggle and a witch, born 1868 died 1879, 2 months before his 11th birthday. The healer had brought up this case as once she could reference. She pulled the slim file folder with a few sheets of parchment from her records cabinet and was surprised as to how light the file was. She found a heavily redacted report and a writ sealing the record, signed by Albus bloody Dumbledore a mere 2 weeks after he entered office as Chief Warlock in 1972.

Amelia took a deep breath and sat down in her chair, getting a wizengamot writ overturned was something that would take far longer than she had, and delaying the trial any longer would mean the squib would have to be put on bail. She read through the report and sighed; it wasn't what she hoped. Far too much of the report had been spelled unreadable, thick black ink in swirling patterns obscuring the redacted information. The report only contained the basics, Auror's called to the muggle village of Stuntey, near Ely in the early hours of Saturday morning May 10th, 1879. 1 muggle male Deceased at scene, 4 others injured, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes summoned, A whole lot of redacted information, and the discovery of the body of Tacticus Gaul, bearing marks of unspeakable abuse in the aftermath, evidence of a redacted event.

She had heard from Master Elwin that this was a known case of an obscurial and that she could read between the redacted text that it seemed that way. The boy had been abused by his muggle father, supressed his magic, possibly in an attempt to avoid said abuse and this lead to a twisted knot in the boy's essence which formed an obscurus. She had to wonder why Albus had sealed it, and so long ago too. It wasn't in attempt to hide what was going on in the Potter case. She would have to owl Master Elwin to see if he had an unredacted copy. The man had worked in the DMAC during the time, so he was the most likely person to have an uncensored copy.

Albus Dumbledore held his summons to the Ministry of magic in one hand. The parchment it was written on was very soft and supple, the words it illustrated however where not. He was being charged with a Class 3 breach of the WCP act and was apparently facing impeachment from the Wizengamot. There was also to be a hearing about the Wizengamot calling on article 7 of the 1708 Hogwarts charter to call upon the Board to reassess his position as Headmaster of the school. He was slumped in his large comfortable chair in the headmaster's office of his school and sighed. This had gone, just about as bad as it could have gone. He had been making moves with Elphias and his other contacts in the wizarding governing body to attempt to keep the latter two elements of his summons delayed or removed. But it seems the minister had poked his nose in and the bowler hatted fool had ruined his efforts mightily.

He was confident that when it came to a trial that he could cast reasonable doubt on his guilt in the matter to at least reduce it down to a not otherwise proven. But the impeachment only required a majority, and the Article 7 only needed reasonable suspicion of misconduct, not the proof beyond a reasonable doubt that a conviction required. Thankfully, He had enough men on the board that he knew he would at least keep his position for the coming year, but he knew 2 members that sat in his pocket where due to retire next year and their sons where not quite as firmly on his side. He expected to be placed on probation at the school, a difficult outcome, but one he could handle.

The biggest issue would be the trap he was setting up for Voldemort on the 3rd floor corridor, The extra scrutiny would mean he would need to actually put elements in place to block students access. This would then defeat the secondary objective he had surrounding the experiment, one that still pained him to do but the prophecy demanded they clash. Especially now that the boy was likely being told the Hayfods party line and it didn't take an occlumens to realise that the Hayfods had made up the majority of Voldemort's supporter's last time. If he could spur conflict between them, then all might not be lost. He had no doubt the shade of Voldemort he had heard reports of in Albania would make his way to the castle at the chance to acquire such a powerful artifact as the Philosophers stone.