The Guile of the Traveller

by Kingmaker'sUmbreon

After being hit by the Killing Curse, Harry finds herself in a limbo that looks a lot like Kings Cross station. Deciding that the remnant of Voldemort's soul does deserve a chance at redemption, Harry finds herself in London, 1944. However, Harry soon makes a name for herself, and discovers that adventure and drama followed her everywhere, including into the past.

42. Chapter 42

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

The majority of the residents of Hogwarts were still in the clutches of the Realm of Hypnos the next Sunday morning when the Malfoy twins rose from their slumbers and decided to meet simply with the two of them to discuss the successes and failures of the Occlumency lesson the day before, once more meeting at the Black Lake.

Abraxas had barely come to a stand-still when his sister pounced into her questioning, looking unusually nervous, which in her case was hardly ever a good thing. "How much did Ygraine see?"

"Yes, sister, I slept awfully, thank you for asking. As for the answer your actual question, she saw the funeral of Cousin Maximillian, Mother's struggle to conceive again, our fight about my potions – some thoughts and feelings I in hindsight should have protected better-"

"But nothing regarding the visions concerning our dear Harry?"

"White may have caught glimpses of the past and saw some of my visions concerning Evren, but she saw nothing that could reveal to her the true nature of our little Traveller, no. At least, not yet. And she won't if I have anything to say about it." Abraxas regarded his sister with a hardened look. "What about you, Lorri? What did Rowle see inside your head?"

Loreley pursed her lips, her saffron eyes conveying a level of concern. "Ophelia has more skill as a Legilimens than I first gave her credit for. She knows that Harry's scythe and weapons are not mortally or magically forged – she also knows the scythe has the power to summon Otherworldly animals."

"Oh for the love of Merlin," Abraxas pinched the bridge of his nose. He raised his head quickly. "But nothing else?"

"No, I managed to kick her out before she could push my shields further," Loreley reassured, not looking all too happy with herself. "I spent most of last night building fortifications."

"Rowle hasn't confronted you or Peverell about any of this, has she?" Abraxas pressed further.

"Not yet, but she will – it is yet to be determined if she will come to me or Harry," Loreley sighed.

"Well, you had better come up with a believable story, Lorri," her twin brother told her. "Anyone knowing who Hera actually is, apart from her family, Gringotts and us, a liability will can ill afford."

"You don't need to tell me that!" Loreley snapped, a rare level of venom in her tone.

"No, I suppose I don't. We can only hope that Rowle thinks that the scythe is another Peverell creation," Abraxas continued. "Leave enough doubt in her mind to keep her quiet."

"That is the tactic I am going for," Loreley admitted. "I do not take kindly to gaslighting at the best of times, but Ophelia cannot be permitted to know the truth prematurely."

"Prematurely?" Abraxas repeated, his eyes widening. "You mean to say, she will find out anyway?"

The look in Loreley's eyes made him gulp. "Some secrets will be guarded forever, but that does not mean they never come to light."

Her brother huffed. "I wish you would be less cryptic sometimes."

"Where's the fun in that?" Loreley quipped easily with a small smirk.

Abraxas rolled his eyes and then pursed his own lips as he looked at his twin. "Do you know if Rosier and Black's plan worked yesterday?"

Loreley's smirk widened and her eyes danced with mirth and mischief, but she refused to say anything on the matter, clearly enjoying the suspense too much to allow it to break. Abraxas really did hate the oath of silence they had to keep sometimes!

"Not even one measly clue?" Abraxas winced at how whiney he sounded; it almost reminded him of Draco!

Loreley's eyes danced. "Sorry, brother, but you will have to wait and see like everybody else."

The Past Sighted twin rolled his eyes. "Can you at least tell me if Goldstein and Rosier have picked their targets for the Ball yet so that we can start preparing for a possible fight on our hands?"

The Future Sighted Malfoy smiled sadly, a dark look descending in her eyes once more. "The targets have been picked … more than one fight shall ensue … Gemini in danger …"

Abraxas saw the vacant look that had descended on his sister and knew precisely what was happening. "Loreley, Loreley! Snap out of it!" he stated sharply, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

Loreley blinked and shook her head a few times. "Oh dear … thank you, Braxi."

Abraxas smiled weakly and gave a curt nod. It wasn't long until the Malfoy twins decided it was best to head back to the castle to try and get back before the rest of the castle were roused from their slumbers, in order to evade any more awkward questions.

###################################

Harry had been rather relieved to know that not only had her fifth year students not objected to getting a lesson on a weekend. The Traveller had been worried that having a lesson at ten o'clock would have been a problem but that they had even turned up earlier than she had expected. She had only just started getting to the mid-section of the song she was playing on Evren's violin – still with no abnormal magical results – from her tome on medieval songs when the fifth years arrived.

Apart from a few more snide remarks from Cassius Smith than normal, the lesson on the Soap Blizzard of 1378 – with a much deeper dive into the sources than she had done with her seventh year class – and the International Warlock Convention of 1289 had gone rather smoothly. The majority of the class could name at least one factor of the Soup Blizzard off the top of their head and the major debates held at the Convention, such as Bridget Wenlock's discovery of the properties of the number seven in Arithmancy and Armand de Bisclavret's theory on the intelligence of magical creatures, especially werewolves and familiars. In fact, Harry discovered that they had gotten through the topics with such rapid speed that she had enough time to cover the Gargoyle Strike of 1911 as well as go through some more practise questions.

As it turned out, the Lady Regnant was not the only one who had extra classes full of rather eager fifth years – with the exception of Muggle Studies and Astronomy, the Room of Requirement was regularly filled once more to the brim that Sunday with students preparing for the mock exams that would commence that coming Friday. It had taken the staff so much by surprise that they had quietly snuck into the Room while the seventh years were teaching in order to observe the Club for themselves for the first time, though they were careful not to distract the children from their teaching and their learning.

Admittedly, Professor Griffith had been tempted to try and help Rhona Percy and Altair with their lesson on de-fanging the vampiric vegetation that the Room had provided their class but he had been stopped by Professor McCullagh and interim Professor Black. Professor Redferne had to practically be dragged out of the Care of Magical Creatures greenhouse because he was geeking so much.

If the seventh years were not teaching, they were busy with homework, studying, dissertations and asking permission to find some sources in the Restricted Section that were pertinent to certain topics they were researching. It had been a miracle that some of them even remembered to go and get lunch! Well, perhaps it should be noted a few of them would have forgotten had the first, second, third and fourth years not taken it upon themselves to try and remind the older years to get their heads out of their notes and books in order to eat.

Oizys Avery, Eileen Prince and Octavian Rookwood had at one point led a group of younger years who had gone around the older students' dorms to try and see if they could find some seventh years who were not taking proper care of themselves and basically bully them into going to get some food.

Unfortunately, this pattern of behaviour continued for the entire week – Monday to Friday. Almost every moment that the fifth and seventh years could get with no lessons was dedicated to writing practise essays, going through notes and spontaneously quizzing each other at random intervals. Indeed, it had become very common to go into the Slytherin common room and hear random questions being thrown at anyone who was in the fifth year or seventh year and the people from the year groups were expected to answer before being allowed to go on their way.

As a result of this, Oizys, Prince, Rookwood, several other first years, and many of the second and third years had taken to sticking enchanted cotton wool in their ears, legging it to their dorms and not coming out until it was lunch or dinner. The fourth years and sixth years listened in eagerly, hoping that it would save them study time the next year by soaking the information in early. But it wasn't just the Slytherins who were militant; the other three Houses were just as bad, if not worse.

When it came to the tutors, they turned more militant than before, even Tom and Minerva if that was even possible. Harry had been one of the few who had actively tried to keep her fifth years and fellow seventh years from plummeting into all out panic, along with Diggory, Gilbert and Tessa in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. The Lady Regnant had used Evren's violin and the lullaby Hypnos had given her to try and regulate the emotions around her. It had worked for the most part but unfortunately many of the fifth years had broken free from the enchantment after only an hour and asked her, politely though, to stop with the music for a bit.

Harry's Tuesday lesson for the fifth years was on Giant wars and conflicts as well as their leaders – from Gogmagog's campaigns against the descendants of Troy and then later the giant's post mortem war against William the Conqueror and his cousin Payn Peverell, to Ysbaddaden's campaign against King Arthur to Bendigeidfran's war with Ireland, to the giant wars of the Early Modern Period. She had remembered that this topic had been one of the most tedious in her own time but no one was playing Hang Man this time. Harry did not lose her students in this subject, but she did lose them a little when it came to the History of Cauldrons, especially the invention of the Self-Stirring Cauldron. Unfortunately, the lesson did end with another almost altercation between her students when it came to the topic of tactics used in the Giant wars on both sides.

It was the first time that the Lady Regnant had been close to losing her temper with her students.

"Bendigeidfran should have been able to hand the Irish their arses on his own, even with that stupid magic cauldron he gave them!" Smith was laughing coldly.

"His tactics were absolutely sloppy," a Gryffindor agreed, shaking his head. "Efnisien had to save their worthless hides-"

"Efnisien is the reason the whole debacle started in the first place, what the hell, McLagan?" War snorted. "If he had not been such a vicious piece of trash then Matholwch would never have dishonoured Branwen and risked war-"

"Matholwch was a bloody cry baby!" Smith snorted.

"A bit like you then," Yaxley shot at him with a smirk.

As the fifth years started shouting and cussing each other out, Harry had felt her hand itch to give someone a good zap around the head but she was forced to restrain herself and had to be contented with shouting.

"ENOUGH – ALL OF YOU!" the class recoiled at the dulcet tones of the irate Lady Regnant. "WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT UNNECESSARY AD HOMINEM ATTACKS ON EACH OTHER?! You have a difference of opinion; that much is clear. I know you are all stressed, but for the love of everything good and holy, do not add to each other's stress with this nonsense!"

No one dared to answer or argue; they simply shuffled their feet and kept their eyes to the floor.

Harry took a deep breath and stated. "Good luck on Friday. I know you will do me and the rest of your tutors proud."

That was a clear enough dismissal and the fifth years left more sedately, well and truly scolded.

The Traveller had felt a little guilty for exploding, but she was apparently not the last either. Orion, Heron, Minerva, Tom and even Diggory had lost their tempers with their students at some points during their lessons, which none of them were too happy about or proud off. It was almost a relief for everyone involved when Friday 11 November finally arrived.

While they were still expected to go to class and be able to concentrate, the seventh and sixth year tutors could not help but sit and pray in their classes, hoping that their tutoring had paid off. The first exams for the fifth years were Muggle Studies, Arithmancy, then Divination and Herbology after lunch. Many in the younger years believed the fifth years had gotten off lightly but that sentiment was not shared by the people taking the subjects. Ossian Gilbert had spent a good amount of time at breakfast hyperventilating at the fact his fifth years were the ones to be put to the test first. It was so bad that a bet had gone around the Gryffindor table on whether or not the poor boy was going to faint.

Everyone was so tense that they almost forgot that the seventh years still had session with the Revision Club to attend, one of them being Harry's double History lesson. The Traveller had been very happy that she decided to prepare a more fun lesson: the History of Dragon Pox, the History of Duelling, Alchemy in Medieval Europe and Broom history. It was fortuitous that she did, because the tension amongst her fellow seventh years was palpable.

Not wanting a repeat of Tuesday, Harry stood in front of her tense class and folded her arms. "Everyone close your eyes, take a deep breath and count to twenty, please," she stated gently but firmly.

"Why?" Malum, who was practically vibrating in this chair, asked curiously.

"Because I can practically smell the stress on all of you," Harry responded simply. "I can't teach a class who is pent up – close your eyes, breath in, count to twenty and then out, if you please."

No one dared to argue; they had heard about Harry's rare bout of fury at her fifth year class on Tuesday – whether first hand or second – and knew it was best not to vex her any further. Harry got them to do the breathing exercises three times before she countenanced starting the Quick Fire Round.

"All right. You are all at least not shaking or jumpy anymore so let's get started. How was Dragon Pox originally contracted?"

"By wizards working closely with Peruvian Vipertooths," Ophelia answered easily.

"Very good. How has the ability for one to contract the disease evolved?" Harry continued her round around the circle.

"One needs to have been in contact with someone who has the disease or who is incubating the disease unwittingly rather than bitten by the Vipertooth," Tom responded, still sounding a little tense. "It is much like Muggle chicken pox only much more deadly."

"Correct again," Harry smiled. "Who was the first recorded to lethally succumb to the disease?"

"Chauncey Oldridge in 1379," Ignatius piped up, looking pleased that he could once again answer a question without stumbling.

Harry did a small twirl, causing her class to chuckle, which was what she was aiming for. "Who developed the first curse for the disease?"

"Gunhilda of Gorsemoor," Harry was rather surprised to hear Abraxas participating actively without being ordered to.

The Traveller chuckled. "Seriously, you guys are good! OK – first recorded evidence of our kind using brooms?"

"962 CE!" Septimus, Felix and Dolohov answered in unison, the three of them lighting up in an instant.

"Classification of the art of broom making until the Early Modern period?"

"Family Magic," Druella, Walburga and Loreley were on the same wave length too it seemed.

"According to an alchemical duodecimo published in 1557 in the city of Lyon, what were the main ingredients for the perfect medicine?" Harry decided to crank the difficulty slightly up a notch.

However, Heron was quick on the draw. "Vinegar, salt, urine, Sal ammoniac and a particular Sulphur Vive, but I don't remember its precise composition." At this confession, Heron looked a little embarrassed.

Dolohov snorted. "Urine! Seriously? Bloody idiots."

"Thank you for that comment, Mr. Dolohov," Harry sighed. "But yes, Mr. Lestrange – you're correct. I also didn't expect you to give me the composition of the Sulphur Vive because none of our sources are explicitly clear on that matter. Final question: what method did Merlin employ to win his duel with the High Priestess, Nimueh?"

"I swear the answer to that is a lightning bolt," the Hufflepuff next to Diggory, Mallory as Harry remembered, commented.

"It wasn't just any old lightning bolt!" Malum scoffed. "He mirrored the powers of life and death in order to trade Nimueh's life for the Original Potion's Master, Gaius' life."

"Correct," Harry stated with a smile. "So, without further ado, let's begin with the rather unpleasant History of Dragon Pox. As we have established, it originally was contracted through being bitten by the venomous bite of the Peruvian Vipertooth, or the New World Red Poison-Bite as they were called up until July 28, 1821, when Peru won their war of independence from Spain. Surprisingly, the ability of the disease to adapt was uncanny and by 1100 CE, the disease had evolved to being an almost fully airborne one. How come, you might ask?"

It was at this point, the runes pulled up an anatomical image of a normal human body.

"Well, it made use of its primarily method of 'transportation', if you will. One of the first symptoms as you are probably aware is sneezing, with sparks coming out of the nostrils. For those unfortunate enough to be infected, they too would sneeze around their loved ones – in earlier cases it was almost impossible to say immediately if it was dragon pox if there were no sparks coming out of the nostrils. Once inside, the disease would begin its campaign against its host, causing first fatigue, headaches, muscle pain, fevers and vomiting and then attacking skin cells which results in the pockmarked skin and green tinge to the skin." The simulation highlighted the affected areas and showed the progression of the disease in each stage. "Adults who catch the disease may have their greenish skin harden, calcify and then turn thin and brittle, so that bodily movements make hardened tissue split into a network of cracks. This makes one's skin resemble dragon scales to some degree. In the most severe cases, patients felt like they were burning within and had their lungs not filled with mucus, but with tar from smoke, which was also the cause of Chauncey Oldridge's death because he coughed himself to death. This was because he sneezed so much, the smoke from the sparks that came out of his nose had travelled down and had caked his lungs to the point it was extremely difficult to breathe. He also suffered cardiac arrest during one bout, which sealed his fate. With me so far?"

There were vigorous nodding of the head and a decent number of thumb's ups in the air so Harry felt safe to continue. "Dragon pox went on to claim many more lives, many not recorded due to being mistaken for another bout of the Black Death in Europe and the emphasis on the sweating sickness that occurred in waves from 1517 to 1529 in England that was prevalent in medical studies at the time. Sometimes it is also due to lack of sources. If we choose to believe the recordings of Court Healers, Queen Elizabeth I had survived Dragon pox and not small pox in 1562 but unfortunately we only have three journals and nothing else to corroborate their writings. However, as Mr. Malfoy correctly stated, Gunhilda of Gorsemoor developed a rather effective cure – historians still debate if the original date is 1560 or 1660. Now, can someone name the components of the cure, please?"

"Excretion from a horned toad, fairy wings, ginger root, dragon claw, peacock feathers, fresh lemon juice, dried and crushed crabgrass, and Flobberworm mucus," Tom listed with ease; Heron looked very put out because he had been about to answer the exact same thing.

"Very good, Mr. Riddle! So, here is a question that historians have debated amongst themselves until blue in the face: why, even with a cure, do people continue to die from the disease?" Harry knew she was about to step into dangerous territory, but it needed to be done.

"Because Healers have messed with the recipe," Dolohov remarked, frowning slightly. "If I remember correctly, Gunhilda's original recipe was amended like three times without any official notice and no one in the Healer community decided to put regulations on it."

"There is also the matter that Gunhilda was working under medical theories of her time," Heron pointed out. "We do not believe and know the same things as she did back then. There were still some Healers who put a lot of stock into Galen, despite theories slowly being disproven! But the issue is, the potion was never officially retested and thus, as Caius pointed out, there was never one official updated cure."

"Or vaccine made," Ignatius pointed out. When a bunch of the other seventh years stared at him strangely, the Prewett Heir decided to explain. "It's how Muggles protect themselves against diseases; it's rather a new thing actually. They've been doing it for a little over one hundred years. What they do, they inject themselves with some of the disease to inoculate themselves and when they get the disease in question, it doesn't affect them as much or at all."

"And how do you know this?" Felix sneered distastefully.

"Ossian Gilbert's been teaching some very interesting extra classes for his Muggle Studies group. Billy went to a few of them for fun," Ignatius replied, shooting Felix a pointed look.

"Well, you should be careful, Prewett, because Lord and Lady Black will not let their daughter marry a blood traitor," Mallory remarked snarkily.

Harry bristled at that term in an instant. "Mr. Mallory, that is enough! If you cannot use the appropriate language in my classroom, you will leave and you are requested to never return. Is that clear?"

Mallory snored. "You don't have the power to that, Evans."

"Is that so? Then please, talk to the Headmaster. I am sure he would be only too delighted to hear what you just said and the kind of potty mouth you believe is appropriate to put on in a Club meant to help each other," Harry glowered at the Hufflepuff, who suddenly didn't look very argumentative at all, especially considering he was getting death glares from Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Slytherins alike. "If you must know, Mr. Prewett's point and Mr. Lestrange's point are actually at the foreground of the debate that is still on going. Mr. Dolohov raised an excellent point that is used by both sides of the medical and academic argument."

Harry continued by listing the arguments made by each side and both on the blackboard, and gave her students time to note them down before going over the History of Duelling, with some famous examples from as many time periods as they had covered with Binns. This subject had everyone up on their feet, especially since the Room had provided them with sources that provided some interesting titbits about duelling customs, tactics and eye witness testimony. Harry had her class assess the evolution of duelling customs and uses of space and spells over time, which led to some interesting discussions. Fortunately, there were no heated arguments or potential arguments this time.

Afterwards, the seventh year had their customary small break. That was when Arcturus had come up to her with a grin on his face.

"Professor Evans, may I have a word with you just as Harry Evans for a moment?" he requested in a low tone to avoid being overheard.

Harry looked surprised for a moment as she leant against her desk and cocked her head curiously momentarily. "Yes, of course, Arc. What is it?"

Arcturus half-laughed, suddenly looking very nervous. "Well, I thought I'd let you know that it's Altair's birthday soon – he hasn't ever told you that has he?"

Harry blanched. "No, he hasn't," she admitted, suddenly feeling really stupid for not asking.

"Yeah, November 29th. Orion, Druella and I would buy a gift, treat him to cake at Madam Paddifoot's – we have done so for years now and I thought it would be stupid not to ask you if you would like to join in," Arcturus' eyes danced with something that Harry could not read but his charming smile distracted her from her Sherlock senses.

"Of course!" Harry readily agreed with a smile. "I'd love to."

Arcturus lit up. "Great! I have already asked Loreley, Potter and McGonagall as well; they agreed. Could you do me a favour and see if Tom is also willing to join in?"

"Oh," Harry frowned. "Arc, why don't you simply ask him yourself?"

"Because I suspect he is far more likely to say yes if you ask him than if I do," that damned look was back in the Rosier heir's eyes.

Harry sighed. "Oh very well. I will see what I can do." Then her teacher cap was back on. "Back to your seat, Mr. Rosier. We're about to begin again."

Arcturus grinned and would have skipped back to his seat had he been of a similar disposition to Orion, looking extremely pleased with himself. Tom, who had been keeping an eye on Harry and Arc, frowned a little at this. He did not have too much time to dwell on his thoughts as he was forced to concentrate on Harry's interesting lecture on Alchemy in Medieval Europe – that was easy, considering the awesome manuscripts the Lady Regnant had in her own possession that apparently had once belonged to her own family and then to Nick.

Malum, Septimus, Felix and Dolohov's passion for Quidditch and their clear interest in Broom History had made the topic ironically fly by, resulting in Harry giving them more practise essay exams a good ten minutes early and dismissing her class more than in time for dinner.

"Screw studying tonight," Harry decided candidly to her friends. "I am not touching any of my work tonight. My head is pounding like a drum!"

"I am not surprised!" Druella chuckled, looping her arm with Harry's. "We still need to take our own mock exams, my dear; don't drive yourself up the wall, please."

"Please tell me you are also forgoing your training tonight," Walburga added. "You need sleep before you start collapsing again."

I think that might be a good idea, Thanatos agreed through the Link. You can test yourself tomorrow morning and then we will continue training the same evening.

Harry sighed. "Very well," deciding to answer both at the same time.

"Wow! Harry Evans actually backed down," Malum grinned.

"Doubt she will keep to it," Felix added with a smirk.

"Hey, I for one don't mind if Harry does some of her training in the dorm, just as long as gives us a head's up first!" Druella laughed.

"Druella!" Walburga looked scandalised.

"Oh come on, Wally. You must be a little bit curious about how our Harry spends her time?" Druella shot back with a knowing look. "I mean, it isn't every day you get to see how a former child soldier handles herself with actual weapons!"

"Speaking of weapons and training, when are you taking over Tom's class to teach the Patronus again, Evans?" Dolohov asked curiously, looking actually slightly hopeful.

"This up and coming Monday," Tom replied for her, smirking mischievously at Harry's absolutely nonplussed and surprised expression.

"But-"

"Harry, I took the temperature with our fellow seventh years and it seems that there are many in the other Houses who are rather desperate to be able to cast a decent shield or a corporeal in time for our Charms practical so we should do this sooner rather than later," Tom told her, trying to charm her with his best grin.

Harry looked set to protest until her own teaching ambitions pointed out that more Patronuses the better was not only good for the future, but it indeed could save someone's grade. It had nothing to do with that damn grin! "OK then."

"We have also been hearing something about training practise," Heron commented, mirth embedded in his tone.

"Yes, and I refuse to put a stick or dagger into anyone's hands until this stress fest is over," Harry stated decidedly. "Right now, we need to focus on getting these mocks out of the way, otherwise we might risk someone getting stabbed because someone had a stressed hissy fit."

Her friends snorted but didn't argue.

Dinner was a very interesting affair to say the least. The whole time the seventh years and the few sixth year tutors were ambushed by happy, worried – some to the point of tears – and angry, also some to the point of tears, fifth years who were blabbing about some of the ridiculously difficult questions or the phrasing of the questions or worried that they had missed an important property of a plant. Ergo, Percy, Altair and Loreley had been swamped at intervals at dinner and behind the Gryffindors, Ossian was attempting to reassure his students that it was perhaps the adrenaline levels in them lowering that was making them doubt themselves.

"I swear I must have missed something! What if my calculations went wrong somewhere?"

"I just had to come up with something because I was just stuck on one question!"

"I swear I made my Leaping Toadstool cry!"

"There was a question on the three conditions dittany has been known to be an effective treatment and I completely blanked so started guessing!"

Due to the cacophony of voices, Harry soon found her head pounding even more and only after eating one treacle tart and some stew, she withdrew to the Slytherin dungeons before everyone else, fetched Evren's violin and her music books and made herself at home on her spot. Athenaïs, Sigyn and Seraphina had decided to join her.

Harry studied her ancestor's violin once more. She knew she was missing something, just as she had in Animancy and regarding the portrait Grindelwald had sent her. It seemed that the rumoured power of the instrument didn't come from the violin itself.

Evren's wand broke when she was eleven; she had used the violin her entire life to cast her magic. So then how…

It suddenly hit Harry like a freight train and she couldn't believe how absolutely blind and stupid she had not been to see it. The bow! The remnants of the wand had been put into the violin's bow, that is what Nicholas had told her.

The wand chooses the wizard, or in this case – the bow. Harry guessed that the bow tolerated her well enough to allow her own magic to make use of the violin's own power that Evren must have bestowed herself. But it wasn't enough to allow Harry to use it to conjure the kind of spells Evren may have been able to.

The Lady Regnant of House Peverell smiled to herself, which caused Athenaïs, Sigyn and Seraphina to give each other questioning looks. They watched the strange witch turn her wand into a violin bow – slightly confused as to why she was not simply using the one she already had – and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

The souls inside Athenaïs' necklace started to chatter excitedly. Eve started hissing in Athenaïs' head. I think she has finally figured out how my Mistress's violin works! Praise be to the Morrigan.

Harry nestled the violin under her chin, put the bow to the strings, placing her fingers on the strings and began to play on instinct. The jaunty, folksy song made the Gargouille and the two cats bob their head to the music until the three of them watched in shock as the violin's runes began glowing silver and a three dimensional scene began playing around them: a story about fairy creatures kicking humans out of their territory and their ridiculous but funny solutions to the attempts of the humans to destroy their forest home. Athenaïs, Sigyn and Seraphina laughed at the humans falling into a giant pit, right into a giant net, hoisted up and then flung out of the forest again at impressive speeds.

The story and the music were still on-going when the rest of Slytherin House returned. Naturally the sight had taken the younger years by surprise – they had quietly jumped slightly but had tiptoed back to their dorms so as not to disturb the Queen of Slytherin from her flow. The fifth, sixth and seventh years, though, had been much louder.

"Great buggering hippogriffs, Evans! What the hell?!" one of the sixth year boys jumped out of his skin.

War could not resist commenting either. "About bloody time, Evans! How can you figure out a cursed portrait but not how one magical violin works?"

"Look at those images! This is so awesome! Well done, Harry!" Orion couldn't contain his excitement as he came to sit beside her.

Harry, who soon drew her music and the story to a close, flushed red with embarrassment and put her ancestor's violin carefully to one side as she returned her wand to its normal state. "Thanks, Orion."

"How did you get it to work?" Altair asked eagerly, taking his usual spot opposite her.

Harry snorted. "I forgot one of the fundamental laws of Wandlore: the wand chooses the wizard. Or in Evren's case, the bow," she held up her ancestor's 'wand'. "The bow was not taking to me – so I decided to see if my own wand works. Apparently, I have my answer!"

The three familiars were meowing and chirping happily, causing the witches and wizards to laugh at their antics.

"Well, that's another mystery solved!" Druella stated with a grin. She rubbed her hands together gleefully. "Come on, Harry! The girls and I have decided that it's unofficial girls' night tonight."

"At long last!" Ophelia squealed. "We haven't done that in ages."

"Oh," Orion pouted. Altair looked just as disappointed as Harry gathered her things. "But Avery, Heron and Rosier are going to play Dragon Land – Harry will miss the arguing and backstabbing-"

"I am sure you will give her a full report tomorrow, dear," Walburga smiled at him brightly.

Harry chuckled at that and shot her friends beaming smiles. "Night, boys! Don't kill each other," she stated, mirth dripping in her tone.

"Night, Harry!" came the easy chorus, with around three disappointed voices mixed within.

Once in the dorm, Harry shot her girls pointed looks as she put her books and violin back into the trunk. "Unofficial girls' night? Is that the best you could do?"

"Well, it's true, we haven't spent as much time together as we would have liked," Ygraine smirked. "With good reason, but still."

"Fair enough," Harry conceded. "So, what do you girls want to do?"

Walburga lit up. "Well, I thought we could dive into these new magazines and journals on the who's-who of British wizarding elite. I do need to buy a new dress for dear cousin Lucretia's Presentation and you, dear Harry, need to know some faces preferably before they are introduced to you."

Harry rolled her eyes but she didn't argue; knowing faces would be very handy indeed. The girls changed into their night gowns, proceeded to make a pillow fort by the windows of the Black Lake, gathering the extensive pile of magazines and journals that looked mostly political but also very gossipy. Athenaïs contented herself with a magazine for familiars while Sigyn and Seraphina stretched themselves on their witches' laps. Harry dived into the journals while having to look up now and again to assess Walburga's choices of dress. Quite quickly, she kicked herself for not asking for these journals before because she learned about Malum and Oizys' parents' fearsome reputation as lawyers, the Rookwood family's endeavour to clear their family reputation ever since 1895, the efforts of the Lament family to salvage their reputation, and the rise of Minor pureblood families, such as the Warringtons, rising in the Ministry. There were several pages on the Blacks, Prewetts, Malfoys, Lestranges and the Potters – there was so much on their politics, philanthropy and speculation about matches for the Heirs and Heiresses that it made Harry's head spin.

Then she came to the pages dedicated to Minor Nobles and families who had sworn fealty to a Noble House of superior rank. Harry flicked through them almost flippantly until she came to an article that read DIANTHA UNDERWOOD TO STAR IN NEW MOVIE WITH CASSIOPEIA BLACK.

Harry froze to the spot and stared unblinkingly at the moving photographs of the two actresses.

Underwood. Lord Nott's mistress had that exact surname! That could not be a coincidence.

Ophelia noticed the change in her friend almost immediately. "What is it, Harry?"

The Lady Regnant swallowed the bile that was threatening to come up and shook her head. "It's nothing," she replied dismissively.

Unfortunately, her friend was sharper than that and she leaned over to read the article over Harry's shoulder and lit up. "Oh yes! Diantha Underwood. Have you heard of her? She is one of the best magical actresses in Britain, next to Cassiopeia Black of course. To see those two star together in Persephone should be amazing!"

Walburga lit up at this. "Oh yes! Cassie mentioned this during the summer. It is a movie centred around Persephone deciding to accept her fate as Hades' queen with the help of Hekate, her closest confidante and ally in the Underworld. Cassie was cast as Persephone, of course, and Miss Underwood as Hekate."

Harry nodded weakly. Ygraine continued. "The Underwoods are a Minor House whose fealty are sworn to the House of Nott," she grinned. "They still work as the families' lawyers but considering they only have daughters that could very easily change. However, Diantha has so far turned down every courting offer she has received and as for Anne … she is a bit of a recluse. She rarely leaves the house these days."

Harry took several deep breathes at hearing this.

Ophelia didn't notice this so she continued. "I have heard some troubling rumours about Anne Underwood. They say she has a child out of wedlock but no one knows who the father is-"

"Can we talk about something else?" Harry didn't mean to sound as snappy as she did.

Fortunately the girls didn't grasp the real reason why Harry was on edge.

Walburga had blanched. "Oh how insensitive – apologies Harry. I sometimes forget that you have two fathers! Well, I have a few good choices for my dress, thanks to you, ladies. Druella, do you have a good topic to talk about?"

Harry closed the journal distastefully. The Rosier heiress laughed. "A couple of things: my mother wants me to already select my bridal party, Cygnus got embarrassed at the Samhain do my family held – I can't believe I didn't tell you girls already – and I heard that Avery is considering finding a Seeker from the pool of fifth years."

The girls laughed heartily at hearing Cygnus Black bungling up again. Harry grinned lopsidedly. "What did your fiancé do?"

"It's not what he did. My grandmother's spirit was being her usual self, which means some very personal stories were going to be told if the person wanted to hear them or not," Druella informed happily. "Grandmother loved to make people uncomfortable or laugh at another expense and Cygnus is a very easy target. He was a nasty shade of beetroot by the end of the Dumb Supper, I was told!"

Harry barked out a laugh. "So have you written to your mother about your bridal party?" she asked carefully.

"I wrote the letter during lunch, and I will send Endor with it tomorrow," Druella replied with a smile. "I have named all of you girls as non-negotiable."

Harry spluttered at that. "What?!"

"Harry, I need to survive that ceremony. I refuse to do it without my girls," the Rosier heiress rolled her eyes.

"How are you going to survive your own marriage?" Ophelia laughed.

"Good question. I have no idea," Druella smirked. "I suppose I will just have to find ways to keep that dear, boring husband of mine on his toes."

"Oh boy," Harry commented.

"My sentiments exactly!" Ygraine scoffed.

"I must say I am rather surprised Avery is considering a fifth year for Seeker," Ophelia frowned. "I mean, War is exceptional and the ones who tried out last time were not very good at all. I wonder why-"

"I may know," Harry admitted readily, grinning mischievously. "Loreley advised her brother and myself to put the idea into his head."

"Loreley?" Walburga raised an eyebrow. "How peculiar. I wonder why she would do that?"

"Maybe it is a case if Ravenclaw can't win, then better to help her brother's House?" Ygraine guessed. "She is a Malfoy after all."

"I doubt it," Ophelia's eyes had darkened slightly.

"Well, I hope whoever it is they do a better job than Lament ever did," Harry stated.

Druella snorted. "Harry, you raised the bar sky-high. Avery is going to be comparing them to you from now on. Not that you seemed to have caught onto that yet-"

Their conversation was halted when they heard the sound of angry shouting coming from across the hall that grew louder and louder by the second. Oh no – not again! Not during mock exam week for the fifth years!

"BLETCHLEY, PUCEY, PERKS, MONTAGUE – OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR!"

"The make-up thing was a joke, this isn't funny! You evil sea hag, I will make you pay for what you did to my clothes, Perks!"

"You dyed my familiar's fur pink! What the hell is wrong with you, Bletchley?"

"Great, this nonsense again," Druella muttered as the girls got up, familiars in tow, and went to the door to investigate.

"We really don't need this right now," Ygraine agreed as Druella opened the door and they stuck their heads around the door frame.

The seventh years were not the only ones watching the other seventh and sixth years waging an odd kind of war with each other. War and her dorm had come out as well, looking extremely tired and they were less than amused.

"Oi, you stupid harpies, it may have escaped your notice but some of us had exams today and have to prepare to do a fucking Astronomy written exam on a fucking weekend day so kindly SHUT UP!" War exploded.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem that the sixth years cared all too much at the moment.

"Go to bed, Warrington, this doesn't concern you," one of the sixth years – a blonde girl with icy blue eyes – stated haughtily.

"Well, I would but your dulcet, tone-deaf harpy voices are keeping me awake, Greengrass," War retorted condescendingly. "So for the good of everyone who has to put up with you lot in the same corridor – shut your traps, before I start taking points from you!"

It was at this point that one of Greengrass's dorm mates had gone back into the room and when they had returned, the suicidal idiot had decided it would be a good idea to fling the pillow at the face of Christina Warrington, the Prefect. Everyone stared in shocked silence; the pillow flopped onto the floor with a thud that seemed to echo around them. That thud was like a war drum had been struck. Indeed, it had been the cause for Bletchley and her dorm to come out and see what had happened.

Uh-oh, was the thought that ran through everyone's heads.

War's eyebrows twitched dangerously. "Did. You. Just. Throw. A. Pillow. At. Me. Bulstrode?!"

Bulstrode at least had the decency to gulp and regret her decision. Unfortunately the sixth and seventh years discovered once more why Christina Warrington was aptly named War as the Prefect and her dorm mates took their own pillows and went after Greengrass, Bulstrode and their dorm mates, easily breaking into the room, shrieking ensuing to the point one would have thought the people inside were being brutally murdered instead of being hit with feather pillows. What made it worse was that Athenaïs and Sigyn also jumped into the fray. Indeed, Harry had envisioned her evening being more normal than usual but instead she found herself going after pillows that had been transfigured into animals and then bringing them back again as well as trying to stop her own familiar from hitting her fellow Slytherins with pillows.

Three of them had managed to escape into the common room and Harry, Walburga and Ygraine had tiredly gone to get them back. They ignored the looks of abject shock and amusement from the fourth, sixth and seventh year boys at them as they caught the animals with Stunner and Freezing spells, turned the animals back into pillows and trudged back to their dormitory corridor without so much as saying a word.

Well, almost.

Harry, Walburga and Ygraine were about to go back down the corridor for the third time when three pillows collided with their legs and flopped onto the floor.

"Really, War? You're going to play it like this?" Harry called down the dorm corridor.

"Bulstrode, you wait until your mother hears about this," Walburga added.

"Grey, your aim needs improving!" Ygraine shouted, picking up the pillow indignantly.

The door slamming behind the girls echoed around the common room.

After calming down, Harry, Walburga, Druella, Ophelia and Ygraine had managed to settle War and her dorm mates after five minutes of placatingly agreeing that Bulstrode was a massive idiot and that everyone involved was being a humongous moron before leaving the fifth years to bed down for the night. The group then promptly dragged the people in both dorm rooms who started this mess over the hot coals.

"You pull something like this while there are stressed out fifteen-year-olds? Have you bloody forgotten how you were last year or something?" Druella had continued after she had managed to put her foot in their door before Greengrass could slam it shut. "Please don't reassert the dumb blonde stereotype, Greengrass. You're supposedly better than this."

While Druella was dealing with Greengrass, Bulstrode, Talbot and Shacklebolt, Harry and Walburga dealt with Bletchley, Pucey, Perks and Montague.

"I get vengeance, I do," Harry had told them from their door frame, feeling like she was taking the good cop role in this situation, judging by Walburga's apoplectic expression. "But if you have been wronged, you bide your time and strike when they least suspect it. You were not acting like Snakes, girls."

"Indeed not!" Walburga agreed. "Tensions are already at a high level; this could have all been avoided if you had chosen to wait another month or so to pull something like this off. The imminent arrival of the Yule holidays would have ensured that, yes, they would get angry but not resort to a petty pillow fight like a bunch of five-year-olds!"

"Do us all a favour – don't do something like this again and please ward your stuff just in case," Harry finished off.

Bletchley, Pucey, Perks and Montague hadn't looked too happy but they also knew they were in no position to argue. The Black heiress and the Cursebreaker had more than a fair point, which was why as soon as the girls were gone the four of them immediately went to get ready for bed without so much as trying to argue back.

The girls did finish their girls' night, with Harry feeling safe enough to practise her Soul Fire and levitating weapon control in front of her friends. The girls had thus abandoned most of their magazines and journals in favour of watching the Lady Regnant's more hidden powers work. Druella and Ygraine especially loved watching Harry throw her Soul Fire coated daggers at conjured targets, cheering each time the daggers hit their mark. Walburga watched in awed silence while Ophelia watched with very little overt emotion at all.

Walburga and Harry did engage in a short duel, with rapiers and not wands, as well before they all went to bed. Ophelia could not help but note that Harry had out right refused to use her own rapier against Walburga.

############################################

Tom had spent the entire week before processing Harry's seemingly blasé attitude at what she had seen in his head, what the kind bookshop owner had told him, what young Clare had said about him 'being in pain' and needing to see a Healer and what he and Heron had happened to overhear during Rosier and Black's clearly-planned ambush on Altair. Sunday Tom had spent the entire day battling the maniacal part of his conscious, resulting in him essentially squashing the 'voice' and looking it up in a mental naughty spot. From Monday to Friday, he had spent running Altair's words in his head while also questioning the extent of Harry's own feelings for the both of them. Tom had tried to find good moments to try and get some answers from both Harry and Altair, but the opportune moment never seemed to present itself. Not even Friday evening, when the girls had kidnapped Harry, and then Altair went to bed when Rosier did.

Until the Saturday morning of the fifth years' Astronomy exam.

Tom had no idea why, but he woke up earlier than he normally did and simply couldn't get back to sleep. The snoring of Mulciber, the gentle snoozing of Frey and Avery, and the silent form of Heron told him that it definitely wasn't late enough for his friends and familiar to begin awakening from their own slumbers but Tom was wide awake. He tried to lull himself to sleep again by reading a book, but it was no use.

Getting frustrated with himself, the young Dark-inclined wizard got up, decided to take an early shower, got dressed and left to read in the common room. It seemed that he was not alone in being unable to sleep and escaping to the common room because Altair was curled in a corner of one of the sofas, doing some work for his Herbology dissertation, a small frown on his face. Tom's heart skipped a beat at the sight. Suddenly, he felt like turning back and returning to his dorm.

Do not be an idiot! the saner voice of his conscious snapped. Sit down and don't let this chance slip.

Before Tom could make any decision, Altair had apparently heard someone come into the room and he raised his head. The Nott heir looked nervous momentarily, but a bright smile quickly took over his cherubic face. "Morning, Tom. I didn't expect you to be up this early."

"I could say the same for you," Tom replied as he carefully approached at a leisurely pace and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa Altair occupied.

"The mocks are already messing with all of us, I think," Altair continued, flicking through one of his Potion books for a chapter poignant to his point. "I think yesterday proved that! Can you believe the girls were having pillow fights?"

Tom chuckled. "I doubt Harry and her girls were actively participating, given how annoyed they were yesterday." He swallowed a little as he noticed the little distance between them and opened his book, trying to distract himself from the blood rushing to his cheeks and the quick jump in speed of his heart beats.

Altair, despite working, didn't seem to want to kill their conversation. "I suppose so," the boy took a deep breath. "Did you … sleep well?"

"Well, enough, thanks to Dreamless Sleep," Tom admitted, looking up from his book. "You?"

"Not really," Altair laughed shortly. "But erm … it's fine. It's nothing to worry about."

Tom frowned. "I still have some Dreamless Sleep and I can make a new batch of Anti-Nightmare Draughts if you need them, you know."

"I know," Altair answered hastily, his cheeks quite rosy at this point, refusing to look at Tom. "It's not – I don't have bad dreams and the dreams … they're not exactly ones I mind at all but … it's fine. It's nothing to worry about. I just woke up a bunch of times last night. I'm just being stupid, as always."

Tom's frowned deepened at this. Babbling was only normal for Orion Black; Altair was clearly saddled with something. "You are not being stupid, Altair."

The Nott heir began chuckling at that. "I never thought I would hear you say that."

"Hear me say what? That you're not stupid?" Tom repeated, sounding slightly disbelieving. "I don't believe you're stupid. Why would I-"

"You never looked at me before," Altair cut across lightly, sounding a little sad, looking away from his work and dabbed at his eyes with his blazer's sleeve. "You tolerated me for Arc's sake and then you were forced to notice me because of Harry. I am nothing to you."

Tom shut his book sharply at hearing that and he turned to face Altair fully, feeling anger-tinted regret. "Is that what you believe?"

"Are you going to deny how you have treated me for almost six years?" Altair shot back in a whisper, his voice slightly wavering, those usually bright eyes now practically grey with unshed tears.

Tom's jaw clenched slightly.

"No, I never saw you for your own merits, I admit it," Tom confessed readily. "I wanted an alliance with Rosier and I didn't think an alliance with you could … be beneficial. Yes, Harry opened my eyes to how wrong I was in the rudest way possible and I admit readily that I should not have underestimated you. But I have been getting to know you and I regret my behaviour towards you. A lot has changed in such a short period of time and I don't know how to react to it but all I know is that you are not nothing to me! Neither is she for that matter!"

It was probably the conviction in Tom's voice that made Altair look up and away from his work fully this time, utter disbelief in his eyes. He closed his eyes for a moment and when Altair spoke next it was like he was confessing to a sin. "I have half-siblings," he whispered.

Tom froze in shock and felt his eyes widen. Altair continued. "My parents' marriage was arranged, as you know. Father hated it. To make his displeasure known, he took mistresses and none of them were serious until he met Anne Underwood." Altair swallowed. "She gave him my half-brother and half-sister, born almost nine months apart. My mother … is rather sensitive on the topic. It's why people thinks she's mad. Half the time she has no idea what to do with herself. She's been doing a little better since I have been sending her letters more regularly but …"

Tom sighed in disbelief, kicking himself about how he could have missed that there may have been a reason, albeit a horrendous one, that Lord Nott snubbed his own legitimate family. His own anger at the rotten excuse of a father he had been dealt surfaced momentarily. "Merlin, Altair. Who else knows?"

"Only Arcturus and Harry," Altair confessed. "Now you as well."

"You trust me with this?" Tom whispered.

The Nott heir's expression brightened.

"I know about your father. Plus, I have decided to take a leap of faith," Altair grinned at him slightly.

Tom's breath hitched slightly but he could not help smiling in return. "A leap of faith?" he repeated with a light teasing tone. "For what, if I may ask?"

"For two people who I think are worth the risk," Altair stated in his usual blunt manner. "I just hope they think I am worth the risk too."

Tom swallowed as his heat beat echoed in his ears. "And … what if one of them isn't worth the risk?" he whispered.

Altair had by now closed his books entirely and shoved them out of the way. He put his already dry quill down and regarded Tom with a look full of mirth. "I think I can make that decision for myself, thanks," he stated with a small, infuriating grin.

It was perhaps this infuriatingly smug grin or the look in Altair's eyes that broke what little reserve Tom had left. He barely felt himself close the space between himself and Altair, and he was conscious of their foreheads touching. Tom knew that he had lessened his control when his lips claimed Altair's in a feathery, tentative kiss that Altair returned in seconds, deepening it eagerly. Tom savoured the minty but fiery taste as he answered Altair's deepened kiss; it was pure Altair and he was now hooked. Unfortunately, whatever spell had taken hold of them lasted only until the beautiful, angelic tones of the girl they both also adored came floating into their ears.

# Can you hear me calling,
Out your name?
You know that I'm falling and I don't know what to say,
Speak a little louder,
I'll even shout,
You know that I am proud and I can't get the words out,

Oh I,
I wanna be with you everywhere,
Oh I,
I wanna be with you everywhere,

Something's happening,
Happening to me,
My friends say I am acting peculiarly,
Come along, baby,
We better make a start,
You better make it soon,
Before you break my heart

Oh I,
I wanna be with you everywhere,
Oh I,
I wanna be with you everywhere #

Tom and Altair reluctantly parted, both breathing heavily and flushed red, as they turned and watched Harry – dressed all in black and some odd looking leather armour, carrying an odd cloak – come through the Slytherin entrance hall, Athenaïs close behind her. The Lady Regnant twirled to her song and snapped her fingers to the beat. Though she was ruffled and her forehead was beaded with sweat, both boys could not help but admire her.

It was after she finished her second chorus that Harry seemed to notice them. She jumped ever so slightly out of her skin – Athenaïs laughing at her expense – before recovering quite quickly and grinning a blinding smile at them. "Morning, boys! It's definitely getting colder. I think Orion might be getting his snowball fight very soon," she informed jovially. She then noticed the state they were in and her eyes widened. "You guys were not outside just now, were you?"

Altair coughed. "No, we weren't," he agreed.

Harry seemed to realise what she had done because she got a panicked look on her face. "Oh my gods, I am so sorry – how could I have been so stupid? I am such an idiot! You know what, I am going to go and take a shower and pretend like I didn't do what I think I just did – I should warn you though that everyone will wake up in less than five minutes-"

Tom and Altair exchanged a disbelieving look as she made her escape.

"Wait-" Altair called out.

"Harry, we need to talk-" Tom added.

Unfortunately both of them were already too late and the Lady Regnant had bolted through the door to her dorm with Athenaïs clearly telling her off from the disgruntled Haaaaayyuouaaaauooo! that the boys heard.

Tom and Altair sighed frustratedly in unison.

"She always runs away," Altair commented, looking a little dejected.

"Harry has issues with her feelings, much like me," Tom observed, not looking too happy about that admission.

"You noticed that too, huh?" Altair smiled wryly.

"Harry's face – it always gives her away," Tom told him with a small smirk. "Much like you."

Altair huffed but didn't dare to refute the statement. After kissing the Nott heir one more time before the common room would be invaded, Tom heard a thought run around his head.

I need to find a solution to my little Horcruxes.

###################################

Harry hated to admit it to herself, but she spent the entire day trying to avoid Altair and Tom like the plague because of some lingering embarrassment. How could she have been so utterly stupid to not realise that she had disturbed them? As a result, the Traveller had gone from sitting in petrified silence at breakfast, to the archive straight after she had eaten breakfast – ignoring confused calls from her friends – to hanging out with the talking portraits in the Tapestry Corridor to accidentally coming across the Armoury and spending an exuberant amount of time animating the knights and engaging in duels with the suits of armour.

Eventually the slightly cowardly Lady Regnant made a disappearing act to Look-out Tower at around two o'clock, taking pleasure in observing the students down in The Quad and the students taking the Stone Bridge. She watched owls come back with mail, probably from home, and owls leave with mail. She had not seen Athenaïs yet but her Gargouille enjoyed hunting as high as possible and the Look-out Tower was a relatively small tower in comparison to Gryffindor Tower or the North Towe, two of its brethren.

But it was fine to her. It gave the Mistress of Death time to be a voyeur without too much issue, to enjoy the chipper weather in the hopes it could give her some more clarity. She closed her eyes and began sensing the life forms around the castle again, giving her busy mind something to truly focus on. It was in this moment that Harry wished she could ask Hermione, Ginny and Luna for advice on what they would do.

Falling in love with the enemy isn't logical – then again logic is sometimes lost on you, Harry could already hear Hermione say.

Love is sometimes like a wand; it chooses you without you having any say in it, she could Luna say whimsically. Which means your old Voldemort is officially wandless.

This already made Harry cry with laughter. She quickly composed herself when she felt five life forces come up the stairs of Look-out Tower behind her. The Traveller, ever vigilant, already tensed in case she would need to defend herself. She quickly relaxed when she saw it was Loreley, Artemis, Minerva and the Weasley twins, who took her by surprise.

"Bloody hell, Harry, you have been leading us a merry dance!" Artemis commented with a laugh as soon as the group caught sight of her and sighed in relief. "We have searched everywhere, including every cubicle of every disused bathroom. Moaning Myrtle wasn't too happy with us disturbing her, I can tell you that right now. We even braved both Bell Towers and the Dark Tower to try and find you."

"So how did you find me?" Harry asked out of curiosity.

"Billy Prewett and his friends saw you up here," Minerva informed her. "Well, they said they saw someone on Look-out Tower and since they knew we were looking for you, they suggested to check the Tower. So here we are!"

The group joined her in her surveying. Artemis whistled. "Wow! You really do have a good vantage point from here. Oooo, oooo, look guys! I think I just saw Mallory and his girlfriend there – apparently things haven't been going so well between them."

"No surprises there!" the Weasleys chorused.

"Speaking of things that are not going very well, why have you been avoiding us?" Minerva wanted to know. "You barely looked at any of us, only answered a few questions from Billy about those photos that are almost done and you could hardly look at Riddle, Nott, Orion or anyone."

"Hey, Minnie," Septimus said gently. "I think it was mostly because of Nott and Riddle."

Harry gulped, looking extremely guilty.

"Do we need to aim a Bludger for them the next chance we get?" Octavius asked her jovially, but with a slight serious undertone.

"No! They haven't done anything wrong," Harry reassured quickly. She laughed shortly at herself. "I am just being a massive coward," the Gryffindor in her hated to admit it. "If I tell you what happened, do you swear on your life never to breathe a word of what you heard?"

The group nodded in unison. Loreley looked especially eager for the answer.

"I went to do some quick morning training this morning and I came back and … I might have disturbed them," Harry swallowed, focusing her gaze on a group of young Hufflepuffs and Slytherins to avoid looking at her friends in shame.

"Was it a public display?"

"OCTAVIUS!" everyone – even Septimus – chorused.

Harry was redder than a tomato. "I didn't see them kiss … but I know the signs and they had all of them."

"Were they angry?" Artemis asked, sounding suddenly very worried.

"No," Harry admitted.

"I was about to say – they didn't seem angry with Harry at breakfast. More sad and troubled at the fact she was refusing to look at them," Minerva added.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but did it bother you seeing them like that?" Septimus wanted to know.

"No, not at all," Harry shrugged. "That isn't it! I feel ashamed that I disturbed them and I feel ashamed that I … felt like joining them."

There was a stunned silence for a moment.

"Oh blimey," Octavius seemed to realise. "Sacrum Vinculum. It's the only explanation."

Harry scoffed. "I have done some reading on it since I got the prediction from the Strings of Fate and I know the girls told me we wouldn't be judged but it hasn't stopped me from being nervous about how they would react if they knew."

"From what we have seen, I think they'd be bloody relieved," Septimus laughed. "I know I would be. Even though in my case it would mean pissing off our parents."

Octavius snorted. The girls frowned at this. "Our parents are almost dangerously opposed to Dark magic. There is almost no room for debate with them, especially our father," Octavius informed them. "They don't put much stock in tradition, almost to the point where our family are in danger of being branded as blood traitors. Not because of their tolerance of Muggleborns, but they believe that the wizarding world should adapt to the Muggleborns and not the other way around."

Harry's eyes widened, as did Artemis' and Minerva's.

"But that's ridiculous, no offence," Artemis scoffed. "You can't expect to be catered to in a foreign country when it comes to customs and culture – so why should this be any different?"

"We agree," the Weasley twins chorused.

"I also have no interest in a girl from a Light family. Most of them are like our sisters, for Morgana's sake," Septimus snorted. "I can never imagine being married to Tessa Prewett, no matter how many times our mother has suggested it. I would sooner go for a bride from a Dark or Neutral House."

Harry smiled knowingly at this.

"I'd rather not marry at all," Octavius admitted. He took a deep breath. "I fancied a girl once, you know."

"Are you sure you want to tell them this?" his twin questioned, frowning with concern.

"It's fine," Octavius reassured. "I mean, we were fourteen, fifteen. I liked this girl that lived close to us. Madeline was her name and she was a Muggle." This took the girls by surprise once more. "I didn't care. She was funny, could climb trees faster than any of the other boys. She could swim too. Madeline stayed with a family around fifteen minutes from our home; she was an evacuee from London. The Muggles were bakers who knew us quite well so they let Madeline visit us a few times in a week and she would just talk – she was an amazing story teller. She talked endlessly about her parents back in London and the older brothers she had in the Navy and Air force."

Octavius smiled nostalgically and then turned more serious. "What we didn't know was that Maddie was ill; it only got worse when one of her brothers died. Issue was, we had to go back to Hogwarts around the same time and the day before we left … I saw a black dog out on the moors with glowing eyes. Less than three days later, Mother and Father wrote to tell us Maddie had died."

"Fuck!" Artemis had her hands in her hair. "No wonder you guys were – oh Merlin, how did I never see it? I am so sorry! And to think how I teased you …"

"Artemis, it's OK," Octavius smiled smally. "I didn't tell you, remember? You couldn't have known."

"So that is why the dog is your Boggart," Harry whispered. "Because of Madeline."

"Maddie was part of it, but it wasn't the first time I had seen it," Octavius admitted. "I saw it just before our uncle died as well. I was probably imagining things but … I now know if I see it that someone I love will die."

"Forgive me for saying this, but how was Maddie able to visit you without not finding out your secret and risking the Statute of Secrecy?" Minerva asked carefully.

"A whole lot of enchantments," Septimus chuckled. "But even that didn't stop Maddie from knowing there was something different about us. We have tame owls after all. But it didn't scare her. Instead, it made her like our family more."

"Maddie always said, 'I want to live before Mr. Hitler sends more bombs for us' and she considered coming over and feeding our owls living," Octavius, who was fighting tears, snorted.

"Problem is, Mum and Dad might not have let you marry Maddie anyway," Septimus was trying not to laugh at this point. "You two would make nothing but trouble makers! They would likely end in an early grave."

The group split their sides laughing.

Harry went around and gave Octavius a hug, much to the boy's surprise, but he returned it happily. Septimus, Artemis and Minerva joined in happily while Loreley watched with a bright smile. Afterwards, they persuaded Harry and Loreley to join them for Charms and Transfigurations practise in the Transfigurations court yard. It was three versus three – Weasleys and Artemis versus Minerva, Harry and Loreley. Loreley had conjured a gramophone and had put on some jazzy, blues music on as the team members took it in turns to try to outdo each other in the Charms they put on the giant metal astrolabe that stood in the courtyard.

Very soon, they had managed to gather sparse crowds of interested passing students. Dumbledore had been out for a late afternoon stroll and had stopped to watch the Gryffindors, the Slytherin and the Ravenclaw with interest.

When Septimus made the thing glow with rapidly changing rainbow colours, Harry began laughing.

"Septimus, we do not need for people on the other end of the castle to see a disco ball in the Transfigurations courtyard!"

"What's a disco ball?"

"Never mind!"

Loreley had gotten rid of the disco lights with an intricate looking enchantment that was reminiscent of the Hogwarts ceiling that could reflect the night's sky but managed to put different plants and stars into the enchantment.

"Oi, Malfoy, that's showing off."

"That is the point, my dear Octavius."

"It looks like there is a whole galaxy in there – Harry, what's with the giant green space dragon?"

The Lady Regnant tried her best to look innocent. "What? I think it's cool."

Loreley smirked. "It is stunning dear Harry."

"Thank you Lorri."

Artemis rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, doppelgänger of mine, there is no way that thing is real."

"Not yet," Loreley stated mystically.

Octavius and Artemis had managed to turn the astrolabe into an elaborate alarm system that – whenever someone stepped too close to it – would start singing operetta extremely badly and begin to dousing the poor unfortunate with water, which Dumbledore did put a stop too despite his eyes dancing with mirth. Harry had quietly feared the man would put a stop to their game but as soon as the astrolabe was disenchanted, the Head of Gryffindor allowed them to continue about their business.

Minerva, who had been trusted to keep score despite being part of the enemy team, counted the tally. "We're currently tied everyone," she grinned. "Transfigurations next!"

That poor astrolabe was turned into everything from monkeys, to slippers, to teapots, to globes to clocks to a pair of new socks – Dumbledore had almost been disappointed when the socks had to be turned back into its original state. It was around this time that the group's other Slytherin compatriots arrived, having heard other students about the small Transfigurations competition going on in the courtyard.

"Merlin, Lorri – you look like a bloody Black!" they heard Artemis shriek with laughter at the transformation of Loreley's hair and eyes.

"Minnie looks like a human version of that Egyptian cat goddess, Bastet," Octavius was also on the grass, trying to recover from laughing at Minerva's eye and hair colour change.

"All right – who is this?" Harry asked and her hair turned eerily familiar to Heron's curl pattern and colour and her eyes were a perfect mimicry of Artemis'.

"Artemis on a bad hair day?" Septimus spluttered.

"No, Artemis and Heron's daughter."

"I'LL GET YOU FOR THAT, HERA!"

Very quickly, Artemis and Harry were sprawled on the ground with Harry shrieking with laughter because her Gryffindor counterpart was tickling her mercilessly. Eventually Dumbledore had to call Artemis off Harry in order to allow the Cursebreaker to catch a moment to breathe. It was when the girls sat up, still laughing and being yanked to their feet did they notice that they had an audience apart from Dumbledore and a few odd students.

When Harry saw Altair and Tom amongst the group, she bit her lip nervously and momentarily avoided eye contact before being nudged slightly by Septimus, who gave her a knowing and supportive wink when she looked at him.

"You guys were amazing! Why did you not tell us you were going to do this; we could have made a bigger competition out of it. But that was still fun to watch. Harry, are you OK? Where were you? We searched most of the day for you. Is something wrong?" Orion blabbed as the six of them joined them, making Harry smile brightly.

"I am fine, Orion. I just needed some air and these guys helped to put something in perspective," Harry replied honestly.

"Anything we need to be worried about?" Malum teased.

"No," Harry smiled reassuringly. "Thank you for asking, though."

"Girl trouble?" Dolohov asked with a slight grin.

"You could say that!" the Traveller snorted. She then had an idea. "Hey, Druella. Did you already send Endor of?"

"Yes, sorry," Druella looked apologetic. "Why? Did you have a letter you needed to send?"

"Still need to write it, but yes," Harry replied.

"My own darling Clytemnestra is also out with a letter for my father," Artemis deflated. "Sorry, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "It's OK. I will just see if I can borrow one of the school's owls-"

"Or you could ask Somnus to deliver it!" Arcturus snorted.

Orion looked a little put out as everyone started to laugh. "Somnus can deliver letters," Orion retorted, folding his arms defensively. "He just doesn't do it all that often."

"Because the thing barely wakes up somehow!" Altair exclaimed.

"He can sleep fly!" Orion protested.

"And when he does, he crash lands every time," Walburga sighed. "I hope Scythe and Raven plan to invest in some decent mail owls, ravens or hawks because I do not think clients are waiting for an owl to nose dive into their breakfast with their letters."

"That will be handled," Loreley reassured, mirth dancing in her tone and eyes.

Harry didn't like the deflated look Orion was wearing and once more, she caved. "I will trust Somnus just once to see what happens," she decided.

Orion lit up.

"Oh Merlin," Felix grumbled.

"Your loss, Evans," Dolohov shook his head.

"I hope that letter isn't important," Malum teased her lightly. "It might end up in a swamp being read by some very confused fish."

"You are too nice sometimes," Artemis agreed, shaking her head at her Slytherin twin.

Harry ignored her friends, especially as Malum and Felix turned the conversation onto Seeker options. The group found themselves a good table in the Study Hall and she quickly and quietly quilled a letter to the three people who may be able to give her some advice.

Dear Uncles Anthony, Cadmus and Ivar,

Apologies for not writing sooner; I am sure that you have been informed that mock exams have officially commenced for the fifth years and ours start very soon. I am not writing for information to use in exams though. I need some advice on a bit more delicate matter.

On Samhain, I played Strings of Fate with the girls and well – the Moirai have apparently decided that my match is a bit more unorthodox. Ever heard of 'Sacrum Vinculum'? Well, I have two gentlemen that I am seriously considering on courting but I have no idea how to go about telling them, because I have not the foggiest idea about how to express one's feelings.

The long and short of it is: HELP! No amount of pureblood training can help me prepare for this!

By the way, the photos are almost done and will be sent soon.

Your loving Niece,

Harry.

P.S. Please don't curse the bird. He's my friend Orion Black's familiar.

####################################

The last thing Philip and Emma had expected to happen late that Saturday evening, just before the two of them were set to leave their shift and change over with the night shift Healers, was someone to finally visit Ambrose and Bradley.

Philip had just finished making his rounds and Emma had made sure that the Janus Thickney residents had their dinner when Healer Hightower had approached Philip, looking both concerned and excited at the same time. "You are not going to believe this, Healer Desoto, but we have three people in the lobby wanting to see Ambrose and Bradley."

Philip had frozen to the spot momentarily. "Are you sure, Healer Hightower?"

"No, I wasn't, which is why I asked dear Mary make them wait outside a little while longer while I made her repeat the question and listened in. There was no mistaking it. They said it as clear as day," Hightower informed him.

"Who are they?" Philip, who was now very much suspicious, questioned steely.

"They refused to give their names, which is why Mary made them wait in the lobby for you," Hightower answered with a small smile. "I must say, if they are Grindelwald agents, they are very well behaved."

"I highly doubt Grindelwald would hire people who could not at least pretend to be civil," Philip snorted. "Do not ever trust appearances."

"I'll say! I cannot wait for these blasted wars to be over," Hightower commented as she went to continue her rounds.

"Quite," Philip readily agreed and, with Emma hot on his heels, headed straight down for the lobby.

"Do you think they are a threat?" Emma inquired as soon as they headed down the spiral staircase.

"I do not know what to believe anymore," Philip answered candidly. "Our enemy can pose as friends and even their friends could have nefarious purposes, considering their background. We will see what they want and go from there."

"I still don't like this," Emma admitted. "They only have just settled since Samhain and even then they still have episodes."

"If I do not trust it, I will send them away and we won't leave them alone for a single moment," Philip reassured her kindly.

"Yes, sir," Emma replied easily.

The waiting room on the ground floor of St. Mungo's was as full as ever. Philip and Emma dodged out of the way of a Healer leading a man with claws instead of hands away, with his worried wife following close behind. When Mary the receptionist saw them, she gestured with her head towards the furthest corner of the waiting room.

Philip and Emma saw three people, a young dark-haired man, a young woman with alabaster skin and raven hair and a rather muscular man whose arms were so muscular that Philip was certain he never was sent on stealth missions because he stood out like a sore thumb. Notably, all of them were dressed like Muggles. Other than the size of one of the men, they looked rather mundane.

Exchanging a look, Philip and Emma approached them. The woman was the first to notice, looking up from her Quidditch magazine, those reddish brown eyes fixing onto the Healer and his apprentice unblinkingly. She sat up to attention as though she were about to receive a debriefing from a General.

Her two companions reacted almost in a similar manner. Philip regarded them coolly. "Good evening. I am Healer Philip Desoto. I was informed you wish to visit two of my patients."

"With urgency, sir," the man to the woman's right stated.

"I do no doubt that, sir," Philip drawled slightly. "However, I am sure you can understand I cannot simply allow anyone to visit my patients without knowing some kind of relation, especially considering the last gift claimed to be left by acquaintances ended up causing my patients distress."

"We didn't send them anything," the woman frowned. "We were unable to come and see them until now."

"Plus, we cannot leave tangible evidence that we were here," the muscular man added. "Such as in a visitors' log."

"Then a name at least, so we can ask either one to verify your identity," Emma suggested kindly.

"Since when have St. Mungo's Healers turned so uppity?" the muscular man snorted.

Philip and Emma scowled slightly at him, as did his companions.

"Ever since we got two patients who were put into a cursed portrait, sir," Philip stated crisply. "Now, we do not have all day. Names please?"

"Margaret, but everyone calls me Meg," the woman supplied with a smile.

"Lorcan, but they know me as Ghost," the brown haired, blue eyed man on her left stated.

"Name's Victor, but those two shits call me Goliath," Muscle Man added, not looking all too happy at that nickname.

Philip gave Emma a pointed look and the young apprentice immediately ran back up the stairs to give the names to Ambrose and Bradley. The two Hit Wizards were currently trying to eat their dinner while also looking at Hourglass's scrambled writings and drawings and incoherent babbling. Hourglass had yet to touch his own food.

As Emma approached, Bradley shot her a winning smile. "Ah, Apprentice March, is there pudding tonight?"

Emma couldn't help but smile. "Yes, but only for patients who manage to finish their meal, Mr. Bradley. I came to ask something – do you know a Meg, Ghost or Goliath, sir?"

Ambrose and Bradley stopped mid-eating, their eyes widening in disbelief and they put their cutlery down.

"Meg … Ghost … Goliath … they're here?" Ambrose whispered.

"Apparently, sir," Emma replied tentatively. "Would you like to see them?"

"Yes, please," Bradley looked and sounded younger than Emma had seen or heard in their brief acquaintance. It was in that moment that Emma realised just how isolated these two were; they apparently had no family so these people must have been the substitute.

Emma hoped that the Meg, Ghost and Goliath downstairs were the real ones as she went to tell Philip that Ambrose and Bradley had confirmed their identity. Philip on his part still had some suspicions but quietly promised he would Stun the three of them and then send them to the Aurors with a bow on top if the three of them so much as tried to do anything.

Meg, Ghost and Goliath were rather relieved and eager to get up the stairs to see their colleagues and friends. The three of them took in their surroundings, and even managed to dodge Patricia's attacks – fortunately, Healer Wilkins and Healer Hightower had managed to catch her before she got a hold of any one of them. Almost as soon as he saw them, Bradley lit up.

"So it's true! You have been sent onto the Isle," he laughed as the group embraced warmly.

"Meg had one of her … funny feelings," Ghost informed, looking over his shoulder at Philip and Emma in a slightly conspiratorial manner. "About some old friends causing problems."

Ambrose and Bradley turned serious.

"We know," Ambrose reassured. "The shadows told us."

"The shadows?" Meg repeated, frowning.

"Your friends have some lasting psychological effects from being trapped inside a cursed portrait," Emma informed her bluntly. "It is why they are still not discharged."

"You mean they hear things?" Goliath questioned.

"We do not know," Philip admitted. "But all we know is that they believe they hear information about their enemy being given to them."

"His latest scheme was stopped, Meg," Bradley grinned. "Two wiped and one dead. I am sorry you didn't get to kick some butt."

Goliath looked disbelieving and Philip gave him a look that said, 'we are used to this by now'. "We try not to give the ramblings too much attention," Philip admitted. "Unless of course they give us no other choice, like during Samhain."

"What happened?" Ghost wanted to know.

Philip clenched his jaw slightly. Normally such information would only be divulged to the patients' families but he quickly realised these three were probably the closest thing that the two Hit Wizards had to one. "Someone had sent both of them flowers. At first, they liked them. But then they heard the note that was left with the flowers they reacted badly, claiming Grindelwald had left the flowers. They then started muttering about someone coming and started singing."

"Merlin," Goliath muttered. Ghost went as white as the spirit he was nicknamed after.

"Is there a cure?" Ghost questioned.

"Lorcan, really! I think the Healers would have tried giving it to them already if there was," Goliath snorted.

"I am afraid your friends will not be ready for active duty for a while, if ever again," Philip told them candidly.

"His greatest asset is rebelling against him; it likes making things a bit more colourful," they heard Bradley gleefully inform a very confused Meg. "It has been using Charms on everything from his furniture to his followers!

Ghost and Goliath were not happy to hear the Healer's declaration but were soon distracted by Ambrose and Bradley asking them to come over and to have a look at Hourglass's writing and drawings while Meg frowned at the squiggles being pushed into her face.

At least it was no longer Philip and Emma's problem; their shift was officially over and the two of them left Ambrose, Bradley and their guests in the care of the night shift. They both were almost sorry they had to leave.

############################

The Traveller's evening training went rather well, if she had to say so herself. She had managed to hold her own against Tosti and Melinoë during their Shadow Combat and even had managed to do rather well during their aerial battle, landing more than a few hits on both the gods. It made her loss a little bit more bearable. Hypnos had taken the time to teach her some more advanced Sleep Magic using Evren's violin – Harry didn't know it but what she had done had almost immediately lulled Loreley, Abraxas and several others who had been awake at the time back into the Realm of Hypnos with no nightmares or visions returning for the rest of the night.

That Sunday had been the first in a whole long time that the students of Hogwarts had slept until nine or ten in the morning before waking up and groggily getting breakfast. It was also one of the days that the caretaker enjoyed the most and Peeves despised because the students spent the majority of the day in their dorms, common room, the Room of Requirement for some extra lessons or visiting friends at their Houses, which took the faculty by surprise.

Indeed, interim Professor Black almost mismarked an essay in shock when he heard from Professor Griffith and Professor McCullagh, two of his more tolerable colleagues, that Badgers, Snakes, Lions and Eagles had been going from each other's Towers to each other's dungeons just to ask questions, play games, or – in the case of a certain Artemis Potter, Weasley twins and Heir Prewett – to hide from irate friends and siblings.

There wasn't that any disapproving teachers could say or do on the matter though. There were no written rules apparently that forbade the students from being invited into the common rooms of Houses by friends in those Houses. Headmaster Dippet had been rather smug when he pointed that out to Sirius Black II and Albus Dumbledore.

It was made even better by a visit from Professor Slughorn, who ended up giving a small impromptu lesson on properties of a few requested Potion ingredients by the fifth year Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, sitting in a circle with his students very happily.

Harry herself had found herself giving one more unplanned History lesson for some of her fifth years who wanted some more help with why Emeric the Evil had not only earned his name but why he had gone after her ancestor's Wand. Fortunately it was just to smooth out the rough edges of knowledge her students had or to make points clearer that apparently the History books were trying to make so they didn't need to go to the Room for extra sources. Harry easily re-created her sigil on a smaller scale for the visual learners so that was also solved. The mini lesson had actually let to Dolohov, Felix, Malum, Heron and Arcturus telling the younger ones about Emeric's duel with Egbert the Egregious in 1435 for the Elder Wand, which the younger ones listened to with rapt attention and watched with fascination as the sigil played out the events as the boys spoke. Harry was rather glad her sigil immediately put the events in the correct chronological order, or she would have whacked Dolohov and Felix more than a dozen times each for putting the chronology out of whack!

Monday was the day the fifth years had their Transfigurations written exam, their Charms practical exam, their History of Magic exam and their Defence Against the Dark Arts written exam. Ergo, Harry had not been too surprised at the fact her students were on edge. War had actually been close to hyperventilating and it was rather disconcerting to see someone who was usually so firm on her two feet close to flipping out. It was Felix who saved the day with a Calming Draught, much to Slughorn's delight. Harry found it slightly disconcerting to watch Felix Mulciber treat someone so kindly.

Tom was just as swamped – in his case though, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors had travelled all the way down into the Snake Pit for his advice and to ask if they had the information correctly formulated in their heads. Though he had been more than patient with the stressed out fifteen-year-olds, Harry knew that he quietly wished they could cast Patronuses to ask for the answers instead.

It was safe to say that the fifth years went to bed early that night, not so subtly threatening anyone who dared to disturb their before exam sleep that they would make the culprit or culprits' who had woken them for no good reason with a retribution worthy of a hissy fit-throwing Zeus. Bletchley and the other sixth year girls had the common sense not to cause yet another argument and the sixth and seventh year boys blasély shrugged their shoulders and decided to have an early night themselves too just to avoid accidentally pissing off the fifth years.

It seemed that even Hypnos's children had gotten the memo and Phobetur had been practically barred from messing with the dreams of the Hogwarts students because the kids noticed that no one had a nightmare the previous night. At breakfast Monday morning, it was Harry, Minerva and Diggory's turn to pray that their students would nail their subjects; Tom didn't show any overt concern but he was very hopeful that his students would be able to get enough to pass.

Altair plied Tom and Harry with coffee while Artemis did the same for Minerva; Arcturus, Orion, the Prewetts and the Weasleys tried to distract them with as many inane and random subjects as they could manage. Billy Prewett had taken the opportunity to excitedly bring over a box and give it to Harry.

To her delight, it was the photos she and Billy had taken with her Hansa Canon. Harry picked out a few of them to take a closer look. "Oh my gods, they came out really well," she commented at the grinning group photo of her Slytherin, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw friends. Harry spluttered when she saw the photo of Dumbledore, ridiculous hair and tweed suit very well printed. "Merlin, I almost forgot you took this photo! Look at him."

Harry showed her friends the photo, promptly sending the Slytherins into peals of laughter. Minerva looked scandalised while Artemis and the Weasley twins could barely breathe.

"Morgana, that's just pure gold!" Malum wiped tears out of his eyes.

Harry went through the rest of the photos, grinning at the photos of all the familiars decked for Samhain; the one of Somnus on Orion's head with Somnus posing was definitely one of her favourites. She could even tolerate the ones where she was in the frame herself. The ones Billy had taken of her and the choir at the Dumb Supper especially took her by surprise.

Billy noticed her taking longer with those photos. "Do you like them? I had to risk the wrath of Tessa and the teachers to take them but it was so worth it!"

"Wow," was all Harry could say.

"Which photos are they?" Altair, who had been unusually tentative about asking Harry anything for around forty eight hours now, asked curiously.

Harry handed them to him with a smile before picking up photos Billy had taken of Luna with the Slytherins, Orion and Ron, Ginny with the girls and Hermione with Artemis and Minerva. There were also some awesome photos of Fred, George, Septimus, Octavius and Ignatius. As for Altair, he went through each photo slowly, as if savouring every detail. Artemis peeked over his shoulder.

The Potter heiress whistled. "You looked stunning on Samhain, sis, but these photos are next level," Artemis shook her head at the photo of Harry alone, deep into playing Evren's violin, her eyes closed.

"Billy, sterling work," Altair grinned. The young Prewett looked very pleased with himself.

"May we see?" the Weasley twins asked eagerly.

Altair turned to Harry. "Harry?"

"Yeah, go for it," she answered with a short laugh, putting the photos she was looking at back into the box and grinning up at the ecstatic fourteen-year-old behind her. "Thank you so much, Billy. You're a miracle worker."

Billy preened even more at this.

"Damn, girl," Tessa shook her head at the non-moving photograph. "I don't know why but these photos are somehow more powerful because of the fact they are not moving."

"I especially like this one," Minerva pointed to the third photo. "The sigils working right when you that last high note was reached – epic."

Arcturus did not want to touch the photos, still not comfortable that they came from a Muggle camera, but did look over Tom's shoulder at the photos. It was the comment from Abraxas that made Harry's morning. "You look a lot like Evren in the first one."

The other Knights and Loreley were looking at the photos when Ignatius called, "Harry, raven ahoy!"

Indeed, leading the charge of the mail owls was Tosti's raven, carrying a cardboard box with holes in its side – a familiar box – and a letter. Harry smiled brightly, putting her box of photos to one side to make room for the raven's delivery. The box was put in front of her carefully; the raven landed next to it and stuck out its leg.

Orion frowned. "Hold on. Where's Somnus?"

"Probably having a spa day in a marsh somewhere," Altair teased him.

Tom, Arcturus and the Knights snorted; the girls tried to hide their amusement behind their hands. Harry frowned and untied the letter, broke open the Peverell seal and unfolded the letter.

Dear Niece,

What in the name of Circe, Medea, Pasiphae and every other Favourite of Hekate that we know of were you thinking sending that damn blasted bird on a delivery mission?! That bird flew into the study, giving us a right old scare to the point Nick and Perrie came running to check on us – yes we fell into other paintings! The thing had crash landed on the desk; we thought it had died only for Perrie to discover it had delivered the letter in its SLEEP! How a Black has a familiar who is this incompetent is beyond us.

All right we have Anthony's indignation out of the way. Now to the matter at hand. It does not surprise us at all that your match might be made under Sacrum Vinculum – the way we have been hearing Tosti, Henry and Melanie speaking off late, we were honestly waiting for a letter such as the one you sent us. As for the two gentlemen you have your eye on, we have no doubt you find them worthy – Anthony wants to know from which Houses they are but you obviously do not need to disclose that to us just yet.

Now, as you know we only know courting customs from our own time, which is 700 years out of date, but there are a few that might still apply. Both Cadmus and Ivar wooed their wives with letters and gifts. Rings, mirrors, purses mostly. Cadmus even wrote sappy poetry. You have to impress, but also not overdo it. We Peverells were known for our Courting Boxes; gift boxes with gifts and a proposal of courting. We have no idea what would be appropriate for a Lady Regnant to send potential Consorts in the Frighteningly Modern period, though, so we advise you to seek assistance with your friends and allies in that matter.

We hope that we may have been of some help, and we look forward to the photos. Naturally we also cannot wait to see you for Yule and we look forward to becoming acquainted with your suitors.

Your Uncles,

Anthony, Cadmus and Ivar

P.S. Tell Heir Black to please invest in a new familiar. – Anthony.

Harry snorted with laughter, exchanging an amused look with the raven before she fed it some pf her bacon and it flew off with it gratefully. "Hey, Orion, look in the box."

Orion frowned but stood up, untied the string around the box and lifted the lid, peering in. He lit up. "Somnus!"

"No way!" the Knights chorused.

They got to their feet to have a look for themselves and, sure enough, nestled in a pile of feathers, slumbering happily, was Somnus the owl, utterly oblivious to the noise around him.

"How in the name of Mordred's rusty sword did that stupid owl manage to survive the trip?!" Felix couldn't believe his eyes.

"According to Uncle Anthony, the owl had managed to crash land into my study at my home, giving my uncles a fright," Harry informed them, amusement embedded in her tone as she made herself another cup of coffee.

"Bloody hell," Altair scoffed.

"Uncle Anthony was not very happy," she added dryly.

"Shocker," Druella commented sarcastically.

"What did you write to your uncles about anyway?" Artemis asked curiously.

"Arty," Minerva stated warningly.

"Believe it or not, family business," Harry answered honestly. She got up to her feet and packed her photo box into her extended school bag. "Artemis, Minerva, Lorri, Wally, Dru, Ophelia, Ygraine; would you girls mind coming with me to Charms right now? I need to talk to you girls about something that my uncles wrote."

"Say no more!" Artemis and Druella chorused as the girls leapt to their feet instantly.

"What, why only the girls? We could help too you know," Orion pouted.

"Orion, you are a future Lord, not Lady Regnant," Harry pointed out, causing Orion to flush slightly. "I need feminine minds on this problem, I'm afraid. Sorry."

The boys watched the girls leave, with Heron and Arcturus attempting not to laugh, especially at Altair's put-out expression and Tom's own resigned one.

"I feel like we're missing something," Felix commented dryly.

"No, you are-"

"-the ones who-"

"-are missing the point!" the Weasleys chorused, smirking knowingly.

As soon as the group was heading up the moving staircases to the third floor, Harry had given the letter to Loreley who serenely read the letter to the group with her friend's permission. Once Loreley had finished reading Antioch's last note, the group chuckled.

"I still cannot believe that stupid owl actually survived the journey," Artemis snorted.

"I can't believe he found Harry's home while sleep flying!" Walburga exclaimed, shaking her head despondently. "I will never understand that bird."

"So this is why you wanted to talk to us," Druella stated, pointing to the last paragraph.

"I know what you're going to say: 'we went over this, Harry! We trained you for a reason'," Harry huffed as they stepped off the staircase they were on onto the platform to the third floor corridor. "But I don't remember for the life of me what the protocol was for a Lady Regnant who wishes to ask someone for a courtship."

"Well, there's a reason for that," Ophelia stated grimly. "There isn't one. Lady Regnants are so rare in pureblood families that no official rules have ever been written and the few instances that there were Lady Regnants – which was during the Renaissance actually – they kept to the rules designed for Lords of the House."

"Great," Harry sighed sarcastically.

"So what would Harry have to send Riddle and Nott?" Minerva wanted to know.

"Poetry, posey rings, mottoes, miniature paintings, money – it depends, though," Ygraine informed her. "Courtship gifts are meant to be personal but as Harry's uncles correctly pointed out, they have to be tasteful and not be too gaudy."

"It is why Aunt Melania turned down Uncle Arcturus when he proposed courtship," Walburga confessed. "It was because he carried himself with arrogance and he believed that he would win her over with outlandishly expensive gifts. Macmillans hate one thing above all things: overly excessive spending costs. They are as frugal as one can get at the best of times."

"Something the Blacks could learn from," Artemis quipped.

Walburga scowled at her for that one, causing Artemis to chuckle.

"So, what do I do?" Harry sighed as she slid down the wall outside the Charms classroom.

"You're musically inclined and have a talent for drawing," Druella reminded her friend. "Compose something. Create something for them. You already have the rings; that's one problem solved." She grinned. "I also know that Nott and his mother are fans of Lycoris Black and her work and as you know, she's going to be performing again in December. Get your hands on some tickets!"

Walburga lit up. "I can arrange that."

Harry blanched. "Wally-"

"I will brook no refusals, Harry."

"You never brook refusals," Harry responded almost petulantly.

"No, because every time I find a ridiculous reason behind a refusal," Walburga countered.

"I have an idea," Minerva tried to diffuse the situation. "Put a riddle or a puzzle on the Courting Box that only Riddle and Nott would know how to solve. I mean, it would be a good way to see how well they know you."

"Ooooo, I like that idea!" Artemis lit up.

"It is a splendid idea indeed," Loreley agreed, her eyes shining knowingly.

Harry rolled her eyes at this. Bloody Seers!

"Speaking of courting," Ophelia turned to Artemis with a smirk, "have you received anything resembling a contract from dear old Heir Lestrange yet?"

Artemis, now as red as her Gryffindor robes, seemed suddenly very interested in the clean slate floor beneath her feet as she reached into her inner robes and fished out parchment leaves that were beautifully illuminated, and handed them to Ophelia. The other girls immediately leered over Ophelia's shoulder as the Rowle heiress read what was on the parchment, her eyes widening with each leaf.

"Oh my," Druella managed to comment before guffawing so much that she joined Harry on the floor.

"Mamma mia, is it hot in here?" Loreley added, fanning herself with a conjured fan.

"Well, I'd say his intentions are definitely serious!" Minerva stated, completely red in the face with embarrassment. "I mean, it is a beautiful, tasteful poem but, good grief!"

"When did you get this?" Ygraine wanted to know.

"Friday," Artemis admitted.

"How do you propose to answer it?" Ophelia questioned further, also trying not to laugh as she handed the poem back.

"Well," Artemis gulped and looked pleadingly at Harry. "I was planning on begging Harry to paint a miniature portrait for a locket I bought behind Heron's back two Saturdays ago."

Harry grinned. "You don't need to beg me for my help. I am more than happy to help."

Druella, who had been keeping an eye on the corridor entrance, gave a sharp whistle. "Cease the chatter, ladies. The boys are coming, as well as the rest of the class."

Loreley quickly gave Harry her letter back and Harry hid it in her inner robe pocket. Harry and Druella picked themselves up off the floor as Orion practically skidded to a halt as he hurried over to them, grinning from ear to ear. "Ladies, you are not going to believe what just happened! Mallory just got a goblet of pumpkin juice thrown all over him by Roberta Knollys – girlfriend number three if I am not mistaken – because Mallory called Abbott's family blood traitors for buying a Muggle car! Apparently Lord Abbott is actually learning to drive it! Can you believe it? Knollys kicked Mallory to the curb for that comment, though."

Harry rolled her eyes. "Uncle Sirius knew how to drive a motorbike and Fred, George and Ron knew how to drive their father's flying car. Knowing how to drive would help us blend even better with the Muggles."

"Please tell me you are not considering it yourself," Walburga sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I don't see why not," the Traveller raised an eyebrow. "I have no interest in putting the International Statute of Secrecy in jeopardy unnecessarily and the Muggles are not going to trade their cars for horses and carriages unless they absolutely have to."

"Good point," Ophelia begrudgingly agreed.

The debate on whether or not it was prudent to learn how to drive was put to a halt with the Charms classroom door opening, allowing the students to file in and take their seats, ready to prepare for their exams once more.

Professor McCullagh went through some theory this time and was positively beaming at the fact that more than half of her students raised their hands to answer questions and was practically dancing by the end of the lesson at the fact that all Four Houses had managed to earn at least twenty points each for correct answers. The delight was shared by Slughorn, Griffith and Chattox, the latter not even realising that her students were putting very little effort into studying for her subject.

Because Professor Griffith was in a good mood, he allowed Harry and Altair go early for Defence after they told him they were going to help Tom Riddle with his Defence lesson on Patronuses. Harry had hidden her surprise at Altair coming along with her but part of her had expected him to do something like this.

On the way back to the castle, Altair tried to break the thin sheet of ice between them with some small talk. "Did the girls help you with your little problem?"

Harry snorted. "More like big problem, but yes they did."

"Good. That's really good. A relief," Altair half-chuckled nervously. "Just curious, did you write that song you sang two days ago?"

Harry flushed momentarily. "No, it's just a song me and my friends sang once to tease Hermione about her crush on Ron," she admitted, once again avoiding Altair's eyes. "I just felt like singing it."

"Right," Altair swallowed. "Harry, about what happened between Tom and me-"

"Altair, it's none of my business," Harry cut across firmly. "I am not bothered by it, if that is what concerns you-"

"What concerns me is that you won't allow us to explain or talk with us!" Altair interrupted her in the sharpest tone she had heard him use up until this point. It had brought her to a momentary halt and her eyes met his for the first time in what felt an eternity. His usually jovial eyes were filled with determination. "Because what happened between us does concern you. Mainly because we … want you too."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "What?" she could hardly believe her ears.

"This is why Tom and I wanted to talk but you keep running away," Altair answered dejectedly. "I know what you said about never considering a courtship or marriage with anyone unless you love them but I was hoping that you may feel something for us. If I am wrong-"

Altair was cut off by a hand placed over his mouth by a slightly frowning Harry. "Stop that thought right there. You're right. We need to talk; let me guess, Tom is already waiting at the Room."

"Yes," Altair confirmed as she lifted her hand from his mouth.

"Well then. We had better get this conversation started before the others get there," Harry stated with a slight smirk.

When the two of them got to the Room and up to the Defence classroom, they found Tom pacing nervously at the front of the class, robes off and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up past his elbows. When he noticed Harry and Altair, he stopped pacing and simply smiled smally. "I assume you figured out that we had ulterior motives for asking you to come early," he stated to Harry.

"You two weren't actually being all that subtle," the Lady Regnant pointed out as she dumped her own robes and bag. Altair followed suit.

"You flee too easily for covert measures," Tom responded easily with a widened smile.

"Touché," Harry agreed wryly. She sighed and folded her arms, shuffling her feet slightly. "So, it seems that I owe Walburga a shopping trip."

That comment took both Tom and Altair by surprise.

"What do you mean?" Tom asked carefully.

Harry smiled fully. "Let's just say I have had to put up with some relentless teasing from my girls because they sussed me out quicker than an Occamy can sniff out a mouse." She scoffed to herself. "I have never been too good at dealing with my more sappy feelings, especially now. Because I only ever had crushes that vanished quicker than a Demiguise; nothing like I have now. I didn't know handle it very well but apparently I have been so shit at it that you think I am not interested in you."

It took the boys a moment to process.

"So you are not averse … to being with us?" Altair's voice was little more than a disbelieving whisper.

"I wouldn't have written to my uncles for help if I was," Harry responded candidly, once more causing her boys to widen their eyes in surprise. She laughed out loud at the situation. "I am a little peeved that you guys did this, but not because I am not interested in you. You kind of ruined my … surprise."

Harry fished out the letter from Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus and held it out to Altair, who closed to distance immediately to take the letter, Tom close behind. Both boys laughed at Anthony's indignant first paragraph, turned serious at the second paragraph and then their countenances moved into ones of awe and delight.

"I was planning on making Courtship Boxes; guess that cat is out of the bag now," Harry commented as the boys re read the letter once more before handing it back to her.

"You really want to do this?" Altair wanted to know; the way he sounded Harry knew he was clarifying for the sake of his own heart.

"I do," Harry stated seriously. "As it is written in one of Orion's stupid, sappy romance novels, my heart is irrevocably gone. Besides, I am done being the one to get in the way of what I really want. Plus, as Lady Regnant, I need Consorts I can trust and who know how to handle themselves on a political arena if need be. The two of you tick all the boxes of my requirements." It was Harry's turn to feel extremely nervous. "I know that it isn't the done thing for a woman to do the proposing and I promised I would let you guys do the talking-"

"Harry," Tom stated gently.

Unfortunately, the Lady Regnant continued babbling. "-and now I am doing all the talking again and-"

"Harry," Altair tried this time.

"-I have no idea what the hell the two of you see in me, considering the hell I put you through-"

"Harry!" Altair and Tom chorused, this time shutting their friend up.

Altair and Tom pulled her in for a tight, warm hug full of relief and adoration, Harry's strawberry scent wafting up their noses. "We want you, and knowing that you want us back – you could send us a cow as a courting gift and we'd accept," Altair stated, causing Tom and Harry to snort with laughter.

"I don't know if my guardian's ravens are able to carry a cow," Harry commented.

"Let's not test it," Tom suggested through chuckles.

It was unfortunately not too long after they released that the seventh years arrived for their extra Patronus lessons, the three of them exchanging a silent look that promised that their conversation wasn't done just yet.

#########################################

"My, my, Rollo – I have never seen you look this red before! You look like you have just received a rather forward courting proposal," Katerina teased her boss and friend lightly as she stood up with the report files they had just been discussing.

Rollo cleared his throat. "I have not been proposed to, Kat. If that had been the case my mother wouldn't still be sending more letters with good candidates for that blasted ball I now regret saying yes to attending."

Katerina snorted. "I can't believe you even considered doing that to yourself again. I think someone may have accidentally hit you with a Confundus Charm!"

"At this rate, I think I might agree on that," Rollo sighed, shaking his head.

"So," the Bulgarian-heritage Cursebreaker grinned. "Who is she? The girl you're thinking about taking, and don't you dare lie to me. We know each other for too long for that."

Rollo felt a pang of guilt hit him at that statement. He coughed. "Erm … she isn't a she."

"OK … how does that work? Is she one of those cases where a woman is born with the mind of a man that I heard about from a witch in Greece not too long ago?" Katerina asked.

"What? No! I … am considering taking Henry Burke," he admitted, going bright red in the face.

Katerina's eyes bugged out but a Cheshire cat grin spread onto her face. "Thomas Burke's brother?! I didn't even know – whose idea was this?"

"Thomas and Miss Rollins'," Rollo flushed even more. "Miss Rollins said her cousin suffers from 'Shut in Syndrome' like his twin and me, apparently. Mr. Henry Burke has apparently been busy researching and keeping an eye on the exploits of his children and is forgetting to have some fun."

"Well that does sound familiar!"

"Shut up, Kat!"

"Well, is he handsome?" Katerina smirked. "Henry Burke?"

Rollo spluttered. "What kind of question is that?!"

An impish glint appeared in her doe eyes. "That's a yes."

"No it isn't!"

"So he's ugly?"

"No that's not – I am not going into this. Kat, go and do your work!"

Katerina laughed victoriously to herself as she left, leaving her boss grumbling incoherently behind her. She would not be the last to tease him on the matter, though, because soon King Ragnok, Griphook and Goldheart came for their update on Grindelwald's movements, the office once more secured against eavesdroppers with a flick of their wrists.

The three goblins noticed Rollo's unusually red complexion but unlike Katerina did him the favour of not immediately pointing it out.

"How fare Mr. de Vere and Mr. Hirano-san?" Griphook inquired as the three goblins took their seats on the other side of Rollo's desk as always.

"Oscar is slightly Portkey-lagged and I think Satoshi is enjoying being back in his ancestral home, despite the circumstances," Rollo replied, clearing his throat. "Oscar has apparently been met with some suspicion but I think its his Dutch heritage that is saving him from outright hostility."

"The Japanese always were rather tolerant of the Dutch. What have they been investigating?" Goldheart asked curiously.

"Spirit prisons," Rollo answered, causing the goblins to exchange interested and surprised looks. "The Japanese Aurors suspect someone is using Dark magic to try and set a few ancient spirits free from their gaols."

"Oh dear," King Ragnok winced. "That would not be good. For anyone!"

"Indeed, Your Grace," Rollo agreed easily.

"Speaking of missions, how is your own going?" Goldheart inquired, smirking slightly. "Have Aurem and Angel made a selection yet?"

"Apparently they have and they wished to let me know that I have incredibly poor taste in women according to Angel's fashion-inclined mind," Rollo sighed in exasperation. "Issue is, the decision has been made not to inform me about whom they picked in order to make our 'introductions' look authentic."

"Clever," Griphook growled. "Annoyingly clever."

"And what about yourself?" the King asked his double agent eagerly. "Have you made a choice yet?"

Goldheart's smirk widened and Griphook rolled his eyes. Rollo flushed once more. "I am … considering asking Henry Burke."

"Not Thomas Burke?" Goldheart somehow looked disappointed!

"He is taking his cousin, Miss Rollins," Rollo informed, clearing his throat. "Besides, I would rather take someone I am even a little acquainted with than some woman who, while I am sure is perfectly pleasant, I simply do not know well enough to tolerate for an entire evening. Because I need to be able to survive!"

The goblins chuckled at this.

"Is there any way you can get the information from them?" Griphook then brought the conversation back.

"I can try, but it would be considered unusual for me to do so," Rollo frowned.

"I say do not risk it until you see a good opening to do so," Goldheart suggested.

"Agreed," the Goblin King concurred.

Rollo nodded his head once curtly. He frowned when there was a knock on the door. Miles was busy preparing his Cursebreakers for another expedition and Kat had gone with the paperwork; he was not expecting anyone.

Before the double agent or his guards decided to go into battle mode, Rosberg's voice came through the door. "Mr. Rowle? Are you still in conference with His Grace, Mr. Griphook and Mr. Goldheart?"

"Yes we were, Rosberg," the King replied, momentarily taking down their wards. "What is it?"

"There are three Hit Wizards to see you," was the reply that took them all by surprise. "They claim to know the two Hit Wizards who our Cursebreaker and her allies saved. They wish to see Your Grace to discuss the matter."

"It must be Meg, Ghost and Goliath," Rollo informed the King after Ragnok had put the wards back up. "Ambrose and Bradley worked in a team of five under a handler who went under the name Wisp."

"Meg, Ghost and Goliath?" Griphook repeated incredulously.

"Margaret, Lorcan and Victor," Rollo clarified. "According to what I was told about them, Ambrose and Bradley nicknamed foes and allies alike. Grindelwald was called Mr. Weird-Eyes or Mr. Creepy-Eyes. Anyone who is in the Resistance knows this nickname. But Your Grace, there is something you should know before you step into a room with them."

"What is it?" the King asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Meg has the Sight," Rollo responded. "Grindelwald tries to work around her weak spots but doesn't always succeed. Lorcan has uncanny stealth and is good at making things disappear which is why he is named Ghost. Victor may look like a brute – his strength is unmatched – but it's his Druid ancestry and Bear Animagus that you should be wary of."

"I am very glad we didn't execute you," Goldheart commented dryly as the King nodded at Rollo in thanks and left the room to meet the three Hit Wizards.

"Indeed," Griphook agreed shortly. "We would never have had a life this interesting otherwise!"

Rollo had no idea if that was a joke or not but didn't dare to ask.

Goldheart got to his feet. "Keep watching out for an opening to find out what Goldstein and Rosier are planning. Give Grindelwald information about the Lady Peverell if you think it will ensure you get it."

"And ask Mr. Burke before someone else does," Griphook added with a smirk. "No one likes being second fiddle."

#############################################

It seems Harry, Altair and Tom have finally made their intentions to each other clear, at long last. Mock exams are in full swing and so far the biggest amount of trouble is stress related. Ambrose and Bradley's colleagues have arrived and discovered their task is greater than they expected. Queenie and Vida have made their choices – who will it be? As for Rollo, will he dare to ask the enigmatic teacher? Stay tuned to find out!

Whooohooo another long one! We are getting ever closer to the shenanigans of Yule people: Tom spending his Yule somewhere other than the orphanage, the Presentation of Lucretia and of course the Malfoy Ball. I hope you guys are as excited as I am!

Quick disclaimer: Fleetwood Mac obviously owns the song Harry sings, 'Everywhere'.

Orion: OH MY MERLIN THEY ACTUALLY KISSED … well Tom and Altair did but THE THREE OF THEM TALKED AT LEAST!

Grindelwald: … You are giving me a headache.

Queenie: Gellert, let the boy have his fun! I was rather waitin' for this moment myself.

Orion: You had better not ruin their moments, Queenie!

Queenie *attempting to look innocent*: Who? Me? Never!

Oh gods. We will see you in the next chapter!

Kingmaker'sUmbreon