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.

47. Chapter 47

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Loreley had one of the worst nights in a long while. The visions that the Moirai had sent her troubled her more than any set that she had in her eighteen years on the Earth's surface. She was used to having only one or two fates that were as clear as cut glass, but on the night of the 27th that quickly turned into the morning of the 28th, she had Seen only fates that seemed to be set in stone. Including one or two Loreley had Seen before, which only meant one thing.

The time was fast approaching for the event to come to pass.

This grim fact was also partially the reason the young Sighted Malfoy heiress could not get back to sleep. Unlike at Hogwarts, Loreley usually took a walk around the stunning gardens around her ancestral home, watching the sun rise above the horizon, being one of the first to greet the new day. So that was what she did on this occasion as well, only this time she would not be alone.

As Loreley headed for the stairs leading straight to the ground floor, putting on her winter cloak and scarf as she went, she sensed someone behind her. "A little bit too early in the morning to be heading out, is it not, sister?"

Loreley chuckled softly as she turned to face her twin, who was also dressed in outdoor winter attire. "That depends on one's perception of it being 'too early', brother."

Abraxas half-chuckled. "Touché." He sobered quickly. "Your visions must have been worse than normal to make you do this in such a long time."

"You have no idea," Loreley agreed as the two of them set of downstairs.

"What did you See? Or is it one of those cases where you cannot talk about them?" Abraxas inquired, sounding a little worried, which made Loreley smile a little. It really had been too long that they actually acted like brother and sister.

Another thing she was grateful to Hera Peverell for inadvertently fixing.

"The latter, I'm afraid," Loreley sighed irritably. "A few visions repeated themselves."

"Merlin, that's never good," Abraxas paled.

"It wholly depends on the vision, but in this case, you are right, brother," Loreley confirmed, swallowing a little. "The death of one leads to the birth of another – it is the way of the Old Religion – but it is never good to know that there is nothing that can be done to avoid it."

"Death?" Abraxas repeated as the twins stepped out of the front door of Malfoy Manor and began taking their turn around the garden. "Someone is going to die?"

"People always die," Loreley answered whimsically. "It is just a matter of the Moirai deciding when and where, and a death I Saw is going to come to pass soon."

"Who?" Abraxas demanded. "Who is going to die?"

His sister smiled sadly. "You know I am not permitted to answer that. No matter how much I may wish I could."

"Is it anyone we know?" Abraxas pressed.

He really did not like the long pause Loreley took at this.

"Yes," came the answer after about a minute of Loreley staying silent.

"Any of our friends?" Abraxas could not help himself.

Loreley frowned. "No, but that is all I can say on the matter."

Abraxas breathed a sigh of relief.

Loreley regarded her twin. "Enough about me and my visions. How did you sleep?"

"The usual," Abraxas grumbled, reminding Loreley a little bit of Draco at this point. "Saw past creatures, civilisations – to creation of the continents as we now know them. I Saw … how Tom created his Horcruxes." He swallowed at that. "I Saw how the Dolohovs survived … I Saw Anne Underwood making an attempt on Altair Nott's life but failing."

"She failed to take Altair's life, but she robbed another of hers," Loreley responded ethereally, her tone slightly harder than normal. "Anne Underwood will be dealt with soon enough."

"I don't see how. She has practically gotten away with it," Abraxas snarled, eyes flashing dangerously.

Loreley's own eyes began flashing with a menace to them. "Not for long. Anything else?"

Abraxas scoffed. "I think the Moirai like telling me about the Peverells. I Saw so much about them that frankly, it borders almost on impertinence. I know secrets about these people that not even Hera knows, and these are her ancestors, for Mordred's sake!"

"Oh please, the Moirai know you tell Harry anyway," Loreley almost rolled her eyes, an amused look on her face. "Any interesting events?"

"Gregory and Anne Peverell tried to use Old Magic to get a child but were stopped by Edmund, Thomas and Evren," Abraxas actually turned a little sad at this point. "When Edmund fell ill with Dragon pox the family tried to heal him with Old Magic and their Family Magic but nothing worked. They only succeeded in buying him more time to set his affairs in order." He swallowed a little again. "Evren turned down the proposal from a man she loved, all because of her duty to her family, and died in a duel against Dark wizards who were plotting to kill Queen Elizabeth. She took more than half of them with her, though."

Loreley deflated a little. "That family can never catch a break."

"Thomas and Margaret's family thrived," Abraxas continued with a smile. "They had three children who lived to see adulthood: Evren Elizabeth, Henry Edmund and John Richard. The three of them became diplomats, spies and Dark wizard catchers who had no problem chasing targets all over Europe. They even stirred a bit of a kerfuffle in France, even attracting the attention of the King's Musketeers."

"Seriously?" Loreley lost her composure for a moment.

Abraxas nodded, actually grinning. "Oh yes. I have to say that I rather regret waking up from those visions because they were highly entertaining."

Loreley huffed. For once in her life, she was actually envious her brother had been born with the ability of Past Sight. She quickly recovered, though, and grinned. "The training session should also be highly entertaining."

"Oh please," Abraxas scoffed. "We will just be stumbling around and learning how to properly throw a stupid blade. There is nothing too entertaining about that."

Loreley's eyes glinted knowingly.

Abraxas huffed. Of course she had Seen something happen!

"Sometimes your Future Sight really is a pain in the neck," Abraxas commented candidly.

Loreley nodded sagely. "I know."

The twins stopped momenatrily to look up at the orange-blue sky as the day officially took over from the night, Abraxas muttering about the tedious regularity of the sunrise and Loreley simply smiling to herself.

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

The morning of the 28th saw even the ones who would countenance getting out of bed before nine on a holiday – mainly Malum, Felix and Caius – rise at around eight to get washed, dressed and have breakfast early in preparation for a visit from one of the Burkes or Miss Rollins. The girls rose to make sure they would have enough time to do their whole morning routine, including their hair. They refused to visit a Peverell residence looking utterly shabby. In the case of Malum, Felix and Caius, they were up early to make sure that they got to Lestrange Manor on time, which was where Melanie Rollins would pick Heron, Artemis, Malum, Felix and Caius up from.

As for Harry, Tom and Altair, they didn't rise as early but they were all washed and dressed by the time Perenelle wanted to send her Patronus to announce that breakfast was ready. All three were dressed entirely in black; Harry was naturally the only one wearing armour since the other two didn't have any. Altair also noticed that his future Consorts both sported some dark bags under their eyes.

"Good morning you three!" Nicholas called to the three teenagers as they descended the stairs. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough," Harry yawned as she made a beeline for the coffee.

"Quite well, thank you, Nicholas," Tom replied, smiling smally as he automatically began to help Perrie plate the breakfast table.

"I slept very well," Altair added, pouring himself some juice. "It is very difficult not to, considering the beds make one feel like one is sleeping on a cloud."

"Indeed, the mattresses are rather splendid," the Immortal Alchemist agreed jovially. "I have always theorised they must be enchanted somehow. So, today you begin training. What will you be doing first?"

"Basic exercises," Harry responded as she took her seat at the table, blowing across the surface of her coffee. "Getting to grips with the weapon; some basic moves of each one. In the case of Heron, Artemis, Arcturus and Druella, they will be getting some lessons in how to shoot properly from Henry."

"Artemis got a crossbow," Tom remembered. "What did you make for Heron and the Rosiers?"

"Bows and arrows," Harry replied with a small smile. "Specifically, Mongol war bows."

"Why Mongol?" Altair asked curiously.

"Simple. The Mongol war bow is shorter, much more reflexive and in some cases could be more devastating than an English longbow in the impact the arrows made," Harry explained. "Plus, a short bow is slightly easier to handle; I also made sure that the string tightness correlates to their arm strength. It should make it easier for the three of them to get used to it. Usually warriors had to train from birth to handle the bow."

"Do you know how to shoot?" Tom asked curiously.

Harry smiled and shook her head. "No. Never learned, which is why Henry is taking that task. He at least knows what he is talking about. I can just design a decent weapon and know how it works in theory."

"Morning, everyone!" Melinoë called happily as she bounded down the stairs, Amaris, Thanatos and Hypnos following at a more sedated pace. The three gods were already dressed in their armour too, making them all look rather intimidating.

Tom and Altair noted that their armour was very similar to Harry's in style, all in fine black leather.

"Morning!" the teenagers and immortal couple chorused happily.

"Everyone ready for some hard day of training?" Melinoë asked teasingly as she sat down and grabbed a chocolate croissant from the basket on the table.

"Absolutely," Harry grinned.

"Yes, ma'am," Tom and Altair answered in unison.

"Where will you be training?" Amaris asked curiously as she smiled thankfully at Nicholas for pouring her a cup of tea.

"Just in the back garden," Thanatos replied.

"We should have good weather for a good while," Hypnos added. "If the weather starts to turn we will make sure the kids go inside and we wait until the weather becomes better. Or if it doesn't, we just have some fun inside and we do another day of training soon."

"Good," Amaris breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't worry, ma'am, we won't return any of the kids with a nasty cold," Melinoë grinned.

"Who are you guys going to pick up first?" Harry asked as she finished her own yoghurt and granola.

"I will be picking up Orion, Walburga and Druella first," Thanatos answered.

"I am picking up Ophelia, Ygraine and Minerva," Hypnos added.

"I am picking up the Malfoys first, then Heron, Artemis, Malum, Felix and Caius," Melinoë stated.

"Wonderful! That means we can make extra goodies for lunch! That means I can try those new recipes I found in one of the old Peverell cooking grimoires," Nicholas grinned.

Perrie rolled her eyes at her husband's antics. Athenaïs, Andras and Frey laughed.

"Oh boy, please try not to follow Elizabeth Peverell's recipes to the letter," Melinoë blanched. "She either tended to make too much or put too much alcohol into some of them."

Nicholas' eyes started twinkling a little. "Don't fret, my friend, I know what I am doing."

"Nicholas, you almost burnt dinner twice!" Perrie huffed.

Harry snorted at Nicholas Flamel's bashful expression. Tom and Altair hid their amusement behind their hands. Once she finished her croissant and her coffee, Harry rose to her feet. "I will go and prepare the targets."

No one said anything as she disappeared upstairs to fetch her own weapons. Tom and Altair watched her with concerned eyes but they knew better than to follow her. Amaris too frowned. "Am I missing something?" she dared to ask.

"Harry has strange dreams at night," was all Melinoë replied as she picked up another chocolate croissant from the basket of croissants.

"Some of her dreams are worse than others," Hypnos added. "When her mind is too busy for her to handle, Harry will try to distract herself with anything that she can. We just need to leave her alone for a bit with her thoughts."

Athenaïs gave a small, sad affirming cry.

The Mistress of Death, carrying her weapons, came back downstairs not too long after and headed straight outside without so much as looking at her family. Hypnos had told Amaris the truth about why Harry was so determined to be the one to prepare the targets; she was well aware that the next day would be the day of Tom's ritual and he had yet to come to her for help, which was making her mind whirl around in circles.

Harry knew it was selfish, but she could not countenance losing Tom during a difficult ritual while trying to undo the mistakes that she had hoped she could perhaps persuade her original Voldemort to feel some level of regret for. Tom and Voldemort were now little more than almost two different personalities and people; one person she loved dearly and the other she had hated and pitied in equal measure.

Harry dumped her rapier and scythe onto the nearby, still slightly snow-covered table and then summoned several wooden dummies with targets on their stomachs. They looked a little reminiscent of the dummy Death Eaters the Room had conjured for her secret Defence classes, she noted to herself with amusement. But a few of them also looked a little like members of the force that Grindelwald had sent to Antwerp to kidnap the Flamels, which did take her a little by surprise as she had not meant for that to happen.

As Harry drew one of her daggers, her magic began humming and thrumming under her skin, alerting her to the fact that someone was approaching her from behind. Fortunately, it was very likely to be one of her loved ones or her magic would have been begging to be released into an attack.

"Everything all right?" the Lady Peverell called without taking her eyes off the target and letting the dagger fly.

She smirked to herself with satisfaction when the blade hit the dead centre, hitting the target in its metaphorical heart.

"I suppose I should be asking you that question," Altair responded as he carefully approached. Harry heard him put his own weapons next to hers as she drew another one of her daggers. "You and Tom have both been hiding things from me again, and I am not going to lie when I say that I'm bloody worried about the both of you."

Harry's heart sank. Of course Altair would be sharp-eyed enough to see that both she and Tom were wrestling with some of the same issues; it was rather surprising that the other half of her heart only now decided to try and confront her about it.

"Have you … talked to Tom yet?" she decided to first try and see how much Altair knew for himself.

Altair snorted as he came over to stand next to her. "As if I would get a straight answer. Tom is a stubborn arse, much like you are."

"Touché," Harry was forced to agree as she let her dagger fly.

Another direct hit.

"Nice hit," Altair whistled.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Harry flushed a little. She then turned to look at Altair, her verdant eyes meeting his hazel ones. "Tom hasn't told me anything about what is bothering him – I can only guess, considering what I saw in his mind and well, I have been just doing some reading in my old Family Grimoires in case he needs my help." She swallowed and she decided to lie. "I know as much as you do."

Altair deflated a little, which only added to Harry's guilt. "I guessed it was something like that already," he exhaled sharply. "I talked to Arc about it yesterday and he said to be patient with the both of you, considering how crappy you handle your emotions. But I am not a very patient person by nature."

"Gee, I would never have guessed," Harry teased.

Altair mock-scowled at her before his countenance morphed into one of amusement. "I will have you know that I have gotten better at being patient."

"Have you?" the Lady Peverell challenged, raising an eyebrow. "With what exactly?"

A small smirk etched its way onto the Nott heir's face and his hazel eyes were soon almost black. "I think you know the answer to that question yourself, my Lady."

Those two words sent shivers of pleasure down Harry's spine; she forced herself away from the desire she felt in that moment by drawing another dagger and sending it flying at the target. Once more, it joined its brethren in the middle of the target. Altair chuckled to himself, knowing full well he had a victory.

"Smug Alec," Harry commented as she summoned her daggers back with a snap of her fingers.

Altair watched in astonishment as the daggers pulled themselves free from the wood of the target and came zooming back to Harry, sheathing themselves into place on the belt around her waist without any issue what so ever. He gaped for a moment before starting to laugh to himself.

"I sometimes need to remind myself you're the Mistress of Death," he commented, shaking his head.

Harry chuckled softly. She looked back to the house momentarily. "Where is Tom?"

"Helping Perrie and getting his weapons," Altair responded easily.

Harry nodded and then turned to him fully. "Would you already like to try your hand at dagger throwing?"

Altair's eyes widened. "But what about the others?"

Mischief shone in those verdant orbs that Altair had fallen rather quickly for. "They'll learn soon enough. You're out here; we might as well get you started, right?" she stated jovially.

Altair gulped slightly as she fetched his daggers and watched as she conjured several glowing orbs on the ground, including near his feet.

"These are markers – to see how far you throw and to see what needs to improve, if need be, if you don't hit the target on your first try," she explained. "Now, first thing is first with dagger throwing, or throwing of any weapon for that matter, is that there is no 'one way' of throwing a weapon. There are techniques that are better than others, which is not the same as doing it 'right or wrong'. Rather it is, what is 'better or poorer', and even those techniques need to be adapted for people who favour their left hand rather than their right hand. With me so far?"

"Yes," Altair answered firmly with a smile.

Harry smiled back. "Good. Now the next thing we need to do is, is setting up a good throwing stance. One foot has to be leading foot and the other the trailing foot. Take your pick, it doesn't really matter which one, just as long as it feels natural to you."

Altair nodded and put his left foot slightly forward. Harry adjusted his left to point slightly more at twelve o'clock and right foot slightly more towards one o'clock as she talked. "OK, for left foot delivery, your throwing arm and your right foot need to be aligned with the aim point of the dagger and your torso needs to be kept parallel during the throw. This is called centring and it needs to be kept to this format because otherwise instead of a simple vertical arm motion, we need to use a more complex technique that is perhaps a little too much for a first time."

The Nott heir stayed silent, absorbing everything Harry was saying.

"There are two main ways to grip the weapon: the hammer grip and the modified hammer grip," she continued. "Personally I prefer the modified hammer one because it feels more natural to me. Now, we have to make sure that you don't end up with a wrist-flicking habit, which a lot of dagger and knife throwers can develop, so we need to position the dagger along your index finger's first joint and the two other remaining joints."

"Why?" Altair asked for the first time.

"Because that provides the strongest tactile sense of weapon orientation and helps with the correct timing of weapon release," Harry explained. "But make sure that your grip on the weapon stays consistent because otherwise it changes the length of the throwing arc and needed throwing distance. We don't want that."

"Right," Altair nodded.

"The other element that is rather important is the upper body lean," the Lady Peverell continued. "This is because the weapon strike elevation is determined by the amount of upper body forward lean is used during the throw. Excessive forward leaning should be avoided because of this as it is extremely difficult to replicate consistently and if good throwing needs one thing, it is consistency. Another thing I should tell you is that your whole body in theory should help tell you when to release the weapon. Also, don't ever tuck the weapon behind your head or it will strike at an angle instead of vertically. Keep your eye on the target at all times, and keep your breathing steady. Keep your shoulders and hips parallel to the target, with no twisting to right or left and with minimal upper body lean. No forward step, no diagonal throw, no knee-bending. Your weapon must slide out of hand with no wrist-flick. The ideal is a smooth, continuous follow-through, with your throwing arm stopping near waist level. But most importantly," Harry drew a dagger at this point and, holding it by its blade, flung it smoothly towards the target in front of her and Altair, where it pierced the very centre, "don't think. Just throw. We can analyse what went wrong later."

Harry took one of his daggers out of the box and held it out to him with a smile. "Shall we give it a try?"

Altair nodded with determination as he took the blade from her, mimicking the grip Harry had shown him. He partially extended his right arm and as he leaned slightly forwards, feeling an increasing tension building up in the joints and muscles of his waist, hips and legs. Almost instinctively, he drew back slightly when he felt the tension reach his toes, leant forwards again and let the dagger fly.

Much to his own surprise, the dagger whizzed through the air and dug the point of its blade into the lower half of the target. Altair blinked in surprise; the dagger hadn't fallen short on his first try like he had suspected it would. Harry herself was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Not bad for the first time, Altair. Let's try that again," she stated, handing him another dagger.

Dagger number two ended up a little higher than dagger number one. Dagger number three narrowly missed the bottom of the target and dagger number four came to nestle just beside dagger number three. The last one, dagger number five, actually pierced the outer ring of the target, much to the delight of Altair and Harry. The Traveller collected the daggers herself this time, putting them back in their box and then handing it to Altair as soon as she got back over to him.

"You are picking this up rather quickly," Harry remarked happily.

"I have a good teacher," Altair grinned, causing her to flush red and beam at him.

"That you do," the two of them turned around to see Tom watching them in amusement. "I daresay any foe foolhardy enough to come near Altair would have some very nasty wounds already!"

Altair flushed but Harry chuckled. "Absolutely," she agreed. "Altair is already pretty lethal."

"I doubt that would do much good against one of Grindelwald's men," the Nott heir muttered, not looking too happy. "They would deflect the dagger before it could even make its mark."

Harry sobered and a determined look entered her green eyes as she kissed him reassuringly. Altair returned the kiss in seconds. Harry broke it after a good twenty seconds, leaning her forehead against his. "Don't even worry about Mr. Weird Eyes and his followers right now," she told him firmly. "Just focus on technique and hitting the target. You can worry about their skills, or lack thereof, later."

"Agreed," Tom concurred firmly as he joined them after dumping his own weapons. He gently guided Harry to look at him with two fingers under her chin and captured her lips in a quick but searing kiss for a few seconds before doing the same to Altair. "I knew I forgot something today," was all he commented once he withdrew with a cheeky grin.

Altair mock-scowled at him while Harry rolled her eyes at his antics. "How dare you forget?" Altair stated in a faux-vexed tone.

"Oh don't fret, my love, we will get him back for that later," Harry promised with a smirk.

Tom's eyes widened slightly at that as Altair grinned evilly. "Yes, we will," he agreed.

The triad were soon distracted from the growing tension between each other by the arrival of Thanatos, Hypnos and Melinoë with their excited young charges. Very soon, the Evren Estates was alive once more with enthusiastic clamouring and babbling from Harry, Tom and Altair's friends. The deities, the Flamels and Lady Nott all watched on in amusement as the young witches and wizards, all of whom were used to maintaining composure and decorum, went from one room on the ground floor to the other, eager to take everything in. They even got excited about the pantry, which was the most amusing to Nicholas.

Orion and Artemis had really wanted to go upstairs and explore further but Walburga, Heron and Druella persuaded them to ask Harry's permission first, just in case they all ended up in rooms they shouldn't be entering due to their enthusiasm. That meant that in seconds the back garden was full of people and Harry found herself in the bone-crushing hug that belonged to Orion and Artemis.

"Avalon and Camelot, your home is amazing!" Artemis was squealing while squeezing the life from her doppelgänger. "Don't get me wrong, I loved the presents you sent me for Yule, but I think I consider this visit my favourite present."

"Absolutely! I didn't think anything could beat my singing Nessie but this is fantastic! Everything is so light and open – there is modernity and still airs of tradition," Orion gushed. "This is better than I could ever have imagined, and you even have a music room! I mean I did expect it because of course Harry Peverell would not live in a place without music but still it is bigger than ours-"

"Darling, could you please let our friend breathe?" Walburga pleaded as she tried to prise her fiancé off one of her best friends, Druella, Ophelia and Ygraine laughing heartily.

"Artemis, I think she is turning blue," Heron added, also trying to get his enthusiastic lady off their shared friend while also trying to hide his own amusement.

"She can't teach us anything if she's in St. Mungo's," Minerva put in, shaking her head at Artemis, chuckling as well.

Harry herself was laughing as well as gasping for air once Orion and Artemis obliged and let her go. "I missed you guys too," was the first thing she managed to say once she had the ability to talk again. "So, what have you guys seen already?" the Lady Peverell asked once she straightened herself up.

"The whole of the downstairs!" Arcturus informed her, his emerald eyes dancing with excitement and delight. "Pantry included. I mean, it's even bigger than the one we have at home and it doesn't looked like from behind that silly door!"

"Arcturus!" Druella hissed.

"Oh don't fret, Dru, that door took us all by surprise the first time," Harry grinned, not taking offence to her friend's description at all. "One of my ancestresses, Elizabeth, loved to cook. She went a little mad sometimes, apparently, when it came to ingredients and how much she would buy."

"I'll say! You can practically get lost in the damn thing," Felix joked.

Harry then frowned. "You haven't seen the upstairs yet, have you?"

"We wanted to, but Wally, Heron and Druella wanted us to ask you permission first," Orion informed her with a sparkle in those electric blue eyes that just made Harry smile even more.

"As is appropriate," Walburga sniffed. "The upstairs are the family rooms! You don't trespass there without invitation from the Lord or Lady Regnant whose seat you are in. You know that as well as I do."

Orion huffed but nodded. Harry chuckled. "Well, I have no issue with introducing you guys to my portrait family since most of them are hanging around the upstairs anyway."

"We get to meet the past Peverells?" Ygraine voiced as everyone lit up.

Harry giggled at their reaction. "Yes. Come on – you're going to love them!"

As it turned out, that statement was actually an understatement. The moment that the Peverells realised that their descendant's closest friends and allies had come to visit, they all clamoured out of their frames and bundled together in the frames belonging to Gregory, Anne, Edmund, Thomas and Margaret to meet and converse with them. The young witches and wizards could not help but notice that the Peverells were not too fussed with restraint or holding their tongue, ironically enough. They could also note a lot of familial similarities between them, Harry and Artemis, which made the group smile rather brightly.

Walburga, Druella, Ophelia and Ygraine struck up a conversation with Anne Peverell and her daughters-in-law, Anne Willoughby-Peverell and the Lady Margaret Peverell, nee Swinton. Loreley and Abraxas spent a great deal of time talking with Thomas and Margaret's children and Henry Edmund's children, John Gregory, Matilda Elizabeth and Alice Hestia, and John Richard's daughters, Elizabeth and Leah. Artemis, Minerva, Heron, Malum, Caius and Felix got acquainted with two Richard Peverells, Henry Peverell, his sons Gregory, Edmund and Thomas, followed closely by several other Peverell descendants, including two young sisters, Abigail Elizabeth and Evren Enyo. Thirza Elizabeth Peverell was one of the formidable ones they met, and also one of the last Mistresses of Death apparently.

But, it was perhaps the meeting with the Three Brothers and with Evren Peverell I that the group loved the most. As Harry had expected, her friends had to restrain themselves from exploring her study; Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus distracted them by entertaining her friends with stories of their childhood, and their failed attempts at courting, which did elicit many laughs, especially the ones where the brothers told them stories about how they would deliberately sabotage a match of their fellow brother that they didn't like.

Antioch had been the main victim of these sabotages, apparently.

"I still haven't forgiven you for scaring Malyna away in such a horrendous manner!" Antioch glowered at his younger brothers.

"Oh, please had she had true intentions Warin would not have scared her as much as he did," Ignotus sniffed.

"Malyna had a phobia for wolves, you heartless mollusc!" Antioch exploded.

"Had she cared for you, she would have sucked it up and accepted Warin and Clarice's face licks," Cadmus concurred with Ignotus, eyes shining with mischief.

Antioch rounded on Cadmus. "Nothing out of you, you hedge-born, elderflower-stinking donkey! You had the audacity to laugh as she Apparated away screaming!"

Cadmus smirked. "Yes, because Clarice wanted to play with her."

Ophelia turned to her friend, who was shaking her head at her ancestors in amusement. "Did you know about this?" Ophelia wanted to know, eyes shining with glee.

"First time I have heard this story," Harry responded, giggling. "I think I should ask them to tell me stories about their past more often!"

"Which family was Malyna from?" Caius asked eagerly.

"House Nott," Cadmus and Ignotus chorused easily, causing Altair to blanche.

"After her came Cecily Abbott, Elara Black and one Isabella Avery," Cadmus continued, causing Orion, Walburga and Malum to gawk shamelessly at hearing one of their medieval ancestresses being considered as Consorts to Antioch Peverell. "But none of them would do either so Igny and I put a stop to those as well."

"Why?" Malum could not help but ask.

"Cecily was a ninny-pinny, Elara was stranger than normal – it was like she could see things that just were not there – and Isabella was too meek and mild," Cadmus listed candidly, causing Antioch to glower at him further.

"It wasn't just personal attributes. Alliances shifted practically on a monthly basis," Ignotus grumbled. "If you think it is bad now, it was worse back then. One minute a House could be an ally, and the next it was one's most deadly enemy. Frankly, we had enough to worry about as Peverells than to wonder if our spouse was going to end up being our assassin. Mainly the nonsense between King Henry III, the uprising of Simon de Montfort and the Second Barons' War. Not to mention the turbulent succession of Edward I and the Welsh uprisings that followed Llewelyn ap Gruffud's refusal to pay homage to Edward. That is not even covering half of it!"

"Fair enough," Abraxas commented.

It was at this point that Evren Peverell I joined her ancestor Ignotus in his portrait frame, grinning broadly. "Gregory, Edmund and Thomas informed me that Harry's friends had finally arrived. Hello there!"

"Evren!" came the delighted chorus from the group of purebloods.

Evren Peverell had to laugh at their enthusiasm. "My, my, it seems my reputation proceeds me."

"We heard some stories about you, my Lady," Ygraine explained. Her eyes lit up. "Is it true you once foiled a plot by Lucius Malfoy I to marry Queen Elizabeth I?"

"Oh indeed, it is," Evren's eyes sparkled with mirth and a coldness. She then noticed Abraxas and Loreley. "Ah, two Malfoys in my old home. I hope for the sake of your House that you have more wit and political acumen to not pursue a marriage to a Monarch than your ancestor did because I would hate to instruct my dear Niece on how best to deal with your foolish ambitions."

Harry chuckled at that while some of the others looked genuinely terrified. Loreley smiled serenely as always while Abraxas paled to almost the same colour as his hair. "I assure you, my Lady, none of us have such ambitions, especially not with the Statute of Secrecy," Abraxas reassured, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. "Even if the Statute was not in place, I highly doubt my father would look too kindly on either of us pursuing a Royal match."

"Good," Evren lightened up a little. "At least your family seemed to learn a very valuable lesson that even your ancestor had not."

"I assure you, my Lady, the stakes are much higher than they were in your own time," Loreley informed mystically.

Evren cocked her head slightly at the Malfoy heiress and studied her closely, ignoring some of the eye rolls that the young girl's friends were giving out. "You don't say …" she stated through a small, knowing smile. "Do you have Saint Pol blood in your veins, by any chance?"

"Indeed, my Lady," Abraxas confirmed with a bow of the head.

"Yes, I thought as much," Evren chuckled. "The eyes gave it away." She then looked to her Niece, eyes dancing with amusement. "You know how to pick your friends."

Harry shrugged. "I think in one case, they picked me. Not the other way around."

Loreley chuckled.

It was at this point that Thanatos came upstairs, smiling already in amusement. "Ah this is where all of you disappeared of to! Harry, I hope that they had your permission to enter your family study beforehand."

"Of course," Harry rolled her eyes. "Walburga, Heron and Druella would likely have jinxed them if they tried to come in here without my permission."

"Never mind jinx, they would have jelly legs," Druella reassured.

Thanatos beamed. "Well, then, I hate to break up this meeting between Harry's loved ones but Melanie is getting rather impatient to start your training session. She has been rather looking forward to it."

The children all blanched for a moment, clearly momentarily forgetting the reason why they all came in the first place. Evren and the Three Brothers chuckled.

"Go and have fun," Cadmus told them. "We can always talk later. There is no way Perrie will allow you to set one foot back in your own homes without giving you lunch."

"Perenelle Flamel … is making lunch," Felix repeated incredulously as they followed Thanatos out of the study. "Bloody hell."

Harry chuckled. "Perrie loves cooking. She was a little bit disappointed I beat her to making the breakfast on Yule for that reason."

"You made Yule breakfast?" Arcturus blanched. "Really?"

"I can cook you know," Harry looked a little affronted. "I made pancakes. I hadn't done that in a while and I thought why not?"

"They were really good, too!" Altair put in.

"But … a Lady usually doesn't need to know how to cook," Walburga looked utterly shellshocked. "That is a job left to the servants."

"Well, I wasn't a Lady until quite recently," Harry reminded her. "And where I am from, a lot of the cooking was left to me and then to Molly, when we were at Ron's place. Molly was a far better cook than I was but I do know how to make a decent breakfast and dinner if I do say so myself. To be honest I am half tempted to help Perrie with lunch."

"I honestly don't know what to make of that," Ophelia admitted.

"Usually I would agree but then again nothing about the life Harry and her friends had to live was normal," Malum pointed out.

"I don't see anything wrong with knowing how to cook. Spending time in the kitchen can be really fun," Minerva added. "I love helping my mother in the kitchen. My brothers and I helped to make the figgy pudding and we got to help with preparation and decorating. It did kind of turn into a food fight at one point!"

Harry chuckled. "Oh the good old kitchen food fight!"

Minerva grinned. "You know what I am talking about?"

"Putting icing on each other's noses as revenge and making fun of each other's cookies," Harry clarified, Minerva nodding along eagerly. "That's only the mild version!"

"Indeed! Flour throwing fights are my favourites," Minerva chuckled.

The purebloods and pureblood-minded didn't know exactly how to react to this; even Artemis was having an issue with imagining both Harry and Minerva running around a kitchen, covered in cake icing. Loreley, though, smiled even more.

Fortunately they were soon distracted by their Training 101, given by the three disguised deities and Harry. Thanatos and Melinoë taught sword-fighting, Hypnos – as Harry said – took the lead in the archery and shooting lessons and Harry took the lead in dagger throwing and fighting techniques. Each group had at least three people and after about an hour of practise, would alternate so that the archers could get to grips with the dagger or the sword, the sword fighters moved over to Harry's camp and Harry's students went to Tosti and Melinoë.

Artemis, Heron and Druella took a moment during transition to reflect how well they did in comparison to, not only each other, but Harry's dagger throwers. Artemis had hit the target at least three times; one arrow had hit the dummy directly in between the eyes and she had also put two in his lower half. Two of Heron's arrows had fallen just short of the target, the third had made a mark, the fourth had hit just above the third, the fifth had the target, the sixth had fallen short and the last had hit the dummy in the metaphorical mouth. Druella had a little more luck. She had managed to make three clean hits on the dummy's target, but three of her arrows had hit its head.

"Well, I think the only consolation is, I think if someone possess a threat, they may end up with some rather lethal wounds, even by accident," Druella grumbled as the three of them went to gather their arrows.

"Hey, you two are doing well. I have a bit of an advantage with a crossbow," Artemis reassured.

"The three of you are doing well," Hypnos stated, walking on the outskirts of the make-shift firing range. "Heron and Druella, you just need to keep your bows and aim steady, and remembering to keep breathing and keep your eye on the target. That is very important: to keep your breathing and your eye steady because otherwise your aim cannot be true."

Heron nodded in acknowledgement, as did Druella. Heron looked towards the target next to Druella's, which had been Loreley's. There were several gleaming silver daggers sticking out of the target on the dummy with only one falling just outside of it.

"Loreley did really well," Heron commented.

"Yeah. Felix needs a little improvement," Druella remarked, pulling her last arrow carefully out of the target as she looked at the target next to Loreley's. One dagger had fallen short, while all the others did manage to hit the dummy, just not on the target.

"I think we are being way too critical for a first time," Artemis grinned.

"I agree," Hypnos called over readily. "Archery takes time and precision to get right, and also the right exercises will help build up the body strength you need. Here, I have a list of them that you can try at home." He began fishing some parchment from his cloak. "I also advise that you find a good place to practise for yourselves where you know you won't accidentally hit someone or someone might step in front of your line of fire to the target."

"I guess I have to ask Ophelia if I can come over to Rowle Manor," Druella sighed as she, Heron and Artemis took the sheets of parchment from the God of Sleep. "The grounds at Rosier House are not big enough for something like this."

"Or you could just come and practise at my place," Artemis shrugged. "I don't mind having a training buddy."

Druella grinned at this. "Just as long as I don't become a third wheel between you and Heron, I'm OK with it," she teased, causing Heron to flush a little.

"Not at all," Artemis reassured with her own grin.

As the three of them joined their friends again, they caught Harry giving her dagger throwers some final pointers. "Remember, don't think – just throw! Don't throw from your elbow or draw the weapon behind your head. Also, don't lean forward too excessively because that is not good for consistency at all. Other than that, you guys just need to keep practising because each of you have an elegant throwing style. Well done!"

Loreley, Felix, Ygraine and Abraxas nodded in agreement and understanding as Harry spoke.

"Harry, may we go next?" Artemis asked eagerly, gesturing to herself, Heron and Druella.

"Sure," Harry responded with a grin as she put another Warming Charm on her gloves and boots. "I saw you guys shoot just now. Looking good already. I knew that a bow and crossbow would suit the three of you."

"You know us a little too well for my liking sometimes," Druella informed teasingly with a grin. "It's like you knew us in a past life at times."

Artemis and Heron chuckled at that while a smile that could only be described as knowing spread onto Harry's face. "Perhaps, but I doubt it," she replied with a short laugh. "Otherwise I would have known to pack ear plugs before going to Hogwarts."

Druella snorted at that, Artemis and Heron following suit. Caius and Arcturus came over, foreheads already beaded with sweat from their duel they just had. "Harry, may we join in as well? I need a break from getting pummelled by Dolohov," Arcturus stated dramatically.

Caius' eyes sparkled with amusement. "It is not my fault that you have crappy footwork, Rosier."

Arcturus huffed. "You could at least let me try a move before you beat me into the dirt."

"I could but where is the fun in that?" Caius teased.

Druella rolled her eyes at their antics. Harry, though, smiled knowingly. "Well since I think the archers want to take a break, I believe I have around four targets left to fill so I don't see why not."

"Oooooo then I want to join in too!" Ophelia called, rushing over to the table to get her own belt dagger, putting her sheathed rapier down on the table, and hurrying over.

Harry had to bite a little into her cheeks to stop herself from laughing at Malum's slightly put out expression that Ophelia had decided to take a break from sword fighting. Minerva too was giggling away, which earned her some looks from Ygraine and Walburga, but the Scottish witch refused to divulge a single thing. The Lady Regnant distracted herself by getting started with the basics of dagger throwing again, from the kinds of styles to the grip styles to the positioning of the body to the angle of the weapon. Some of the basics regarding a proper throwing stance and breathing the archers already had been taught so that already did half of Harry's work. It was mostly the positioning of their hands on the weapon that they needed to be taught. She also had to reposition some of her friends' feet a few times.

"Do not put your thumbs on the blade if you do a blade throw because that will only slow down its pace. Remember when you want to aim or re-aim, move your body and not your arm! If you move your arm, it will throw the trajectory off. It would be like moving a trebuchet's flinger instead of the trebuchet itself; it's completely nonsensical. Also, do not over think your throwing! If your body is telling you to throw, throw. We can analyse anything else later."

Very soon the garden sounded once more with a cacophony of blade against blade, and dagger against wooden target. Hypnos did his rounds again, keeping an eye on Harry's dagger throwers. Artemis' first dagger impaled into the middle of the target, Heron's went just above the target on his dummy, Druella had managed to hit the outer ring, Ophelia's had somehow managed to lodge itself into the dummy's neck, Arcturus's narrowly missing the target and Caius' hit the second ring.

"Heron, your aim was slightly off – a little lower. Ophelia, you aimed too high as well, a fraction lower – yes, like that! Arcturus, try throwing from half extended arm; you should never throw from your elbow. Here," Harry came over to the Rosier heir, handed him one of his daggers and then started coaching his positioning. "Let's try it again. Keep your eye on the target at all times, and keep your breathing steady. Keep your shoulders and hips parallel to the target, with no twisting to right or left and with minimal upper body lean. No forward step, no diagonal throw, no knee-bending. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Arcturus nodded.

"And how do you throw?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"With a smooth transition, no wrist-flicking," Arcturus smiled.

"Very good," the Lady Regnant praised. "Whenever you're ready."

Arcturus turned his gaze back onto the dummy in front of him with determination. Almost on instinct, as he felt some of his muscles begin to tighten down to his toes, he let the dagger fly. The blade was scent whizzing through the air and came to hit the second ring of the target on the dummy. He could not help but beam in delight at his second attempt already being much better than his first.

"Well done," Harry praised. "Keep this up."

It was at this point a second dagger went into Caius' target, this time dead on the centre. The Russian Knight smirked proudly to himself. Harry laughed with glee. "Well done, Caius! Excellent work. Do you mind helping keeping an eye on Arc for me – nice job, Ophelia!"

Ophelia did a dramatic little bow, grinning proudly. Caius flushed a little. "Sure."

Harry grinned, a knowing look in her eye. "Great!" She turned back to her other three students. "That's better, Heron! Artemis, I think you may be embodying your name sake a little too much there. Druella, stop thinking, let it fly – there you go! Keep that up."

Ophelia, Caius and Arcturus exchanged an amused look before turning back onto their own targets, drawing another of their blades and letting their daggers fly almost simultaneously. Hypnos chuckled as all three hit their mark in perfect sync, causing the three young magicians to light up.

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

After Thomas and Melanie's very thorough and demonstrative lesson in the basics of the rapier, Altair found himself facing Tom in a duel. Harry's guardians had deliberately partnered up best friends and couples due to Melanie's simple ethos.

"You need to be able to face an unlikely prospect of fighting someone you love or a family member," Melanie stated as Thomas went around armouring the children's torso, arms and hands in the same kind of leather armour the Burkes, Melanie and Harry were clad in. "I hope for all of your sakes that you never have to face that day, but should it happen, you need to be able to hold your own against someone who is enchanted to try and kill you."

That warning had sounded ominous in Altair's ears, but then he remembered that the Peverells and their allies had seen a lot in their lives. Plus, it was best to be prepared, but he had secretly hoped Arc would continue sword fighting so that he would not have to face Tom. However, once the Nott heir saw the look of amusement and determination in those burgundy eyes he came to love, he found himself gritting his teeth and mustering up his own willpower. There was simply no way that Altair would allow himself to be shown up, not even by his own future Consort.

"Nervous, Altair?" Tom had teased as Altair slipped on the leather gloves Thomas Burke handed him.

Altair had scoffed and smirked, meeting his eyes momentarily. "You wish."

Tom had smiled as Altair took up a battle stance and his rapier met Tom's in the middle. What ensued between them was not only a simple duel of rapiers, but also a duel of minds. With every lunge, counter attack, counter cut and counter to the cut attacks, it was like the boys were seeing where each other's weak points were and what the fighting style of the other was. As one would expect, Tom was both careful and ready to strike in equal measure while Altair wasn't averse to taking a few risks in his moves. Melanie stopped to watch them for a bit, amusement dancing in those strange eyes of hers.

Altair knew that she could sense the electricity between the two of them as he himself could. It was this feeling that kept the Nott heir not only on his toes but also fuelled some of his more sharper, viper fast attacks. But it seemed that Tom had become accustomed to how Altair moved, and as a result, the last Gaunt managed to swiftly disarm his opponent and smirked slightly at the Nott heir's momentary shock.

"Do you yield?" Tom's voice sounded heavy and a little feral, which didn't help the thoughts that were swimming in Altair's head.

Before Altair was forced to find his voice to make a reply, Nicholas came outside, looking jovial as always. "Everyone, lunch is ready! We also made some hot chocolate per Harry's request."

Saved by the Flamels, Altair thought to himself with a short laugh as he picked up his sword from the ground and sheathed it. He quickly placed it with the rest of the weapons before darting inside the house. Altair made a quick excuse to Perrie and his mother that he needed to splash some water in his face and escaped up to his room, practically slamming the door behind him.

The Nott heir was rather glad he didn't lie entirely as his legs actually carried him to his en-suite bathroom to splash some water in his face. While he did so, Altair berated himself internally.

Get a grip of yourself! You need to find a way to compartmentalise a bit better because you're risking losing control.

"This stupid bond's pull is slightly annoying," Altair whispered to himself as he dabbed the towel in his face and glared at his own reflection.

Knock, knock.

"Shit," Altair mumbled to himself, closing his eyes as he tried to imprison the latest thoughts behind some Occlumency shields.

"Altair, is everything all right?" Tom called from the other side of the door.

"Yes," Altair almost winced at how stupidly feeble he sounded. "I … just needed a moment to myself. I'll be down in a minute."

Tom seemed to look right through his excuse. "Altair, did I overstep a mark? Did I do something wrong?"

The Nott heir almost wanted to scoff at that. "No, you didn't. On both counts."

"Then, can you open the door and tell me what's the matter? Please?"

Altair fought the urge to do so. "No. I won't."

There was a moment of stunned silence from Tom.

"Why not?"

Altair tried to ignore the stab of guilt in his heart and soul at how hurt and vulnerable Tom sounded. "Because you will not give me a straight answer. I know something is bothering you, don't attempt to deny it. But as usual, neither you nor Harry is willing to let me help carry the burden and I also know that if I open this door right now I will do something against courting protocol so please, just leave me alone for a bit."

Tom had no good answer to that. Altair felt him linger a little longer before he heard the receding footsteps that told him that Tom had done what he asked. Though a small part of him was slightly relieved, the Nott heir grumbled to himself about his own stupidity and lack of control on his emotions and what came spewing out of his mouth.

"Bloody idiot," he berated himself as he shoved the last of his sinful thoughts behind more Occlumency shields. "Bloody fool. Breathe, just breathe. Don't even think – it shouldn't be difficult."

Altair muttered the mantra to himself almost all the way downstairs, and only stopped with the mantra when he was met with the sight of his friends singing along to the radio while having lunch, which was chicken pot pie. Harry sat aside a little because she was helping Perrie and Nicholas in the kitchen, as usual. Altair's mother was watching along with the familiars. Altair quickly joined Harry's side as she lit up.

"Hey! I saved you some before Malum, Felix and Caius could get seconds. Everything OK?" Harry asked, frowning a little in concern.

"Nope," Altair responded candidly as he ate. "I think I need to spend some time throwing daggers to focus my mind a little more."

Harry nodded understandingly. "OK. If it makes you feel better, you and Tom looked in good form already. Like proper Musketeers."

"A little biased there, aren't you?" Altair could not help but smile with pleasure though.

"Yes, but I also know Thomas and Melanie would have made it clear if you messed up badly," she replied easily.

"Yeah I know," Altair reassured with a sigh. "It isn't that. I am just taking Tom's silence way too personally and this stupid bond pull is messing with my head more often than normal."

Harry chuckled coolly at that. "Yeah, I know. I was going to tell you later but I was going to try and find a good moment to speak with Tom later to try and winkle something out of him. You're welcome to help."

"I think I might take you up on that," Altair sighed. "Just give me a head's up."

"Will do," Harry suddenly smirked. "You up for a small dagger throwing competition? Best three out of five? The winner gets to decide dessert tonight."

The Nott heir lightened up in about two seconds. "Oh, you're on, my Lady!"

The both of them set their plate down and made their way back outside, soon followed by Athenaïs and Andras, who had sneakily spied on their Witch and Wizard. Artemis, Orion and Druella, who had been watching the pair like hawks, followed suit as well, just in case their interference was needed.

Harry and Altair did not notice. The pair fetched their daggers from the table of weapons and then walked to the targets.

"Best three out of five, was it?" Altair grinned, repeating the terms of their little wager. "And the winner gets to pick dessert. Let me guess, you pick treacle tart."

"Of course. It is the only option worthy of consideration," Harry challenged.

"Is it? It hadn't even crossed my mind," the Nott heir dared to answer with a blasé tone.

The verdant eyes of the Lady Regnant flashed silver momentarily. "Oh you're going to eat your words for breakfast, my dear."

"Am I?" Altair could not help but poke a little further.

"Yes, twice over," the Mistress of Death stated with confidence. Without further ado, she turned to look at her target, drew the dagger that housed her arctic fox and flung it at the dummy.

Clean hit, right in the middle. The Lady Peverell turned to her future Consort, with a raised eyebrow. Athenaïs was hissing with laughter at this point from her vantage point on the top of the roof of the music room; Andras woofed in amusement.

Altair chuckled and drew his own dagger. He took a deep breath, and almost without thinking threw the blade. Inner most ring but not smack in the middle. Altair frowned to himself. That would not do at all.

"Nicely done," Harry could not help praise before she let loose another dagger. That one came to lodge a little higher than her fox's dagger, which made Harry wince a little.

"Madam Perfectionist as always," Altair had seen her dissatisfied expression.

"Of course. I am not perfect; I just learn better while I am also doing the teaching, as you probably have noticed," Harry smiled wryly.

Altair smiled brightly and this time decided to try his hand at a blade throw, using some of the techniques Harry had showed him during their private lesson. This time, the dagger whizzed through the air and pierced the dummy precisely where its heart would be, much to Altair's delight.

Athenaïs and Andras both cheered at that. Artemis, Orion and Druella also applauded but they kept their noise to a minimum so as not to disturb the pair. It was at this point Heron, Malum, Walburga, Arcturus and Dolohov joined the three spies in watching the mini match between their two friends.

"So, if you get this one, you win?" Altair asked as Harry drew her third blade.

"Nope. I will have to wait until you throw yours," she answered brightly. "If you bugger this one up, only then I have won but if you get a nice clean hit again, we simply go until one of us makes a mistake."

"And if it's a draw?" Altair raised an eyebrow.

The Lady Regnant smiled lopsidedly, verdant eyes dancing with mirth. "Then we will ask Tom what he wants for pudding! We can't leave him entirely out of decision making, now can we?"

Altair snorted with laughter at that. It took him around forty seconds to fully recover, in which time Harry was also laughing and waiting until her own bout of giggles was done so she could start throwing.

Once the Lady Peverell did recover and straightened, she let loose her blade, which came to impale itself directly next to her fox's dagger. Altair whistled when he saw that there was little more than a millimetre between the two.

"I am never going to be able to beat that, and you know it, you evil hag," he mock-glowered at her.

Harry had the raw nerve to bat her eyelashes in false innocence at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"No of course you don't, you Siren!" Altair drew his dagger, took a fortifying breath, cleared his mind and then simply allowed his body to dictate when to let it fly. Which was admittedly rather quickly. The blade zoomed through the air and came to dig its point directly besides the second one of its brethren, much to Altair's relief.

"Damn it," Harry laughed shortly, drawing dagger number four.

"I am not going to make this easy for you, my love," Altair teased.

"No one ever does!" Harry quipped back easily, using a second blade throw this time. Altair could barely believe his luck when this dagger came to stick just outside the ring that surrounded the centre of the target.

He still had a chance! His beloved Cursebreaker was not too happy though.

"Bugger!" she cursed.

"Harry, language!" Thomas Burke, Walburga and Ygraine chorused from behind them, causing Harry to petulantly make a face at them.

Altair chuckled at her antics as he drew his own fourth blade. He put all of his determination into the last throw and hoped that it would give him victory. It seemed that someone did deign to throw him a boon that day because the dagger hit the centre of the dummy cleanly.

The Nott heir did not even try to hide his jubilation. Athenaïs and Andras both chirped and barked loudly in celebration, the young Gargouille flying down to give her human friend well-done nuzzles. Harry didn't even have the spirit to be truly salty or angry that she lost, much to Altair's relief. His lover embraced him proudly, laughing.

"So, what will it be tonight?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, smirking a little.

"I was thinking sticky toffee pudding. I haven't had that in ages," Altair sighed happily.

Harry gave him a nudge. "Go and tell Perrie then before Nicholas gives her other ideas! I'll get the daggers."

Altair couldn't help but grin at the simple thought of the antics of the Flamels and how lucky he was that he was able to even get to see for a moment how the legendary Immortal Alchemist and his wife acted with each other. As the Nott heir made his way back, the others all had Cheshire cat grins on their faces.

"Well done, Altair. I have no idea what the two of you betted on but I can tell it's good," Arcturus teased.

Altair flushed slightly at the implication but rolled his eyes to try and brush his embarrassment aside. "We betted on who got to decide for pudding tonight," he informed happily.

"Ooof. I bet Harry is not happy about missing out on treacle tart," Malum laughed.

"She gets enough of that stuff anyway," Dolohov commented with a lopsided smile.

"I heard that, Caius! You take that back this instant!" the Lady Regnant mock-scolded him.

"She is going to kick your butt," Artemis told Dolohov candidly.

"Might do him some good," Druella added with a grin.

Dolohov looked a little guilty at that, which surprised Altair slightly. The Nott heir tried not to pay too much mind to it as he continued his way inside to talk to Perrie about dessert. Much to his surprise, Dolohov followed.

"Nott, wait – can I talk to you for a second?"

This was one of the only times Dolohov ever addressed him with any note of civility so it was not a surprise that Altair grounded to a halt and turned to face his tormentor with a deep frown. As for the Russian, he flinched a little but soon composed himself.

"What do you want?" Altair wanted to know coldly, folding his arms. "What can you possibly have to say to me?"

Dolohov looked momentarily down at the ornate carpets beneath their feet. "Yes, I deserve that. Look, Nott, I am not going to excuse my behaviour up until now because it will do no good but I," Dolohov winced a little, "… I want to say that I have been behaving like an O-grade idiot to you and it was no fault of yours – I just want to say sorry. Sorry for making you feel like shit and sorry for taking my own frustrations out on you."

Altair blinked in shock for a moment but soon regained composure. "Who the fuck are you and what have you done to Caius Dolohov? If this is someone else Polyjuiced, this is not funny."

Dolohov looked set to make his customary snarky remark but he bit his tongue and kept his countenance. "This is no one Polyjuiced, Nott. It is me, fish brain."

"Yeah, you do sound like him. What changed? Did Tom or Harry put you up to this?" Altair asked slyly.

"No," Dolohov answered quickly. "Although it is because of your annoying Lady that I have been forced to reconsider many things and have a good think, and take a long, hard look in the mirror."

The Nott heir's natural curiosity wondered what Harry could possibly have said or done to change Caius Dolohov's attitude so drastically but he quickly set that aside for another time when he could ask her. Altair maintained a dark look. "I am not ready to forgive you, if that is what you are after."

"No, I expected that," Dolohov reassured quickly. "I just wanted to have it said. I am tired of hating you for no other good reason than my own … stupidity, I guess is the best way to put it."

Altair nodded despondently as he continued his journey to the kitchen. "Duly noted."

Fortunately, Dolohov decided to turn back, knowing it was best to leave him alone with his thoughts; the Russian likely also need to gather this thoughts about what he had just done. But as Altair reached the kitchen and thus the Flamels and his mother, he sensed that someone else followed him too.

Perenelle fortunately met his gaze almost immediately. "Altair! What can I do for you?"

Altair smiled politely. "Hey, Perrie, do you mind if we have sticky toffee pudding for dessert tonight? I won a bet with Harry, you see-"

"Oooo sticky toffee pudding!" Nicholas squealed. The Immortal Alchemist immediately rushed over to some open grimoires. "I seem to remember Elizabeth also had a recipe for that. Yes, here it is! You won a bet with Harry? Regarding dessert?"

Altair flushed. "Yes. We held a small dagger throwing competition for it."

His mother blanched a little at hearing this but soon had a look of amusement on her countenance; it seemed she was getting more and more used to the antics of the Lady Regnant and her family friends. Something which was so rarely seen that it already made Altair's day to see it.

Nicholas Flamel's six hundred-year-old eyes shone. "Well, I say it is a good idea. A bargain must be upheld. Perrie?"

"Certainly," his wife agreed primly, winking at Altair. "Very well done for besting our Harry."

Altair's already red cheeks darkened. "She is highly skilled. It was by pure luck that I won."

"Nonsense," his mother disagreed immediately.

Before he could reply, Altair's semi-stalker decided to make himself known. "Altair? Everything all right?" Tom asked nervously from his position near the exit of the front rooms to the back rooms.

Altair congratulated himself quietly as he dared to make eye contact with his other future Consort. "I am fine. As you probably saw for yourself, Harry helped me let off some steam," he reassured quickly.

"Yes, I saw," Tom flushed a little and averted his gaze for the first time in a long while.

Altair exchanged a look with his mother and the Flamels, all three looking slightly assessing and amused, before turning to head back outside with Tom following closely, keeping perfectly in step with him.

"I know you want answers; Harry does too," Altair had not expected Tom to speak. "I owe them to you and I promised Frey and Athenaïs that I would tell you and I want to … but I don't know how …"

Altair frowned. He really didn't like how lost Tom sounded at this point. He was about to answer when suddenly Arcturus came barrelling towards them, emerald eyes shining with excitement.

"Melanie and Harry are going to duel!" he announced. "Come on, I know this is something you two just can't miss."

Altair and Tom exchanged a look of awe, but also one of apprehension. Harry was the Mistress of Death; Melanie was just a witch who was a university student. How was this going to be fair in any way?

But at the same time, not even a herd of wild, stampeding hippogriffs was going to stop them from watching this particular showdown.

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

Harry strapped her dagger belt on and readied her rapier as Melinoë, who had momentarily vanished the throwing and shooting range to make more space for their duel, grinned at her with a knowing look in her eyes, staff-turned-rapier already drawn. "You ready for a bout, my friend?" she quipped.

The Mistress of Death smirked as she already drew her fox's dagger pre-emptively, mischief dancing in those impossibly bright verdant eyes. "The first to make a decent cut on the skin or disarm is the winner?"

"Sounds good to me," the Goddess of Ghosts agreed.

The Lady Peverell nodded, twirling her dagger between her fingers. "So, are we going to keep this simple or are we going to go all out?"

Melinoë chuckled and readied her blade. "Let's see where the flow of the battle takes us, shall we?"

Harry mirrored her instantly as the two already began circling each other, already ignoring the audience they had amassed in the back garden. Aptly enough, at this point the skies decided to open and rain came tumbling down from the heavens; it was almost as the weather gods decided the ante needed to be upped a little more already.

Melinoë was the one who made the first move. She lunged for Harry, who countered almost effortlessly. The goddess transitioned almost effortlessly into a cut for the counter, but Harry had been her sparring partner before, so the young Mistress of Death could move into a counter for the attempted cut. The blades cut along each other, making a sound that echoed around the garden, as the two women momentarily withdrew out of each other's personal space, sword still against sword and unblinking gazes on each other.

Harry was the one to make the opening move this time. She lunged into several rapid fire attacks that Melinoë had to think on her feet to be able to counter and parry without being hit; to the onlookers – apart from Thanatos and Hypnos – the two of them seemed to be moving at an almost impossibly fast pace, silver sparks flying off the blades as they clashed with each other a couple of times.

Eventually, Melinoë managed to disarm Harry's dagger hitting it out of her hand and sending the blade flying to one side. The Goddess of Ghosts then launched another attack on the Mistress of Death, but the young semi-immortal dodged lithely out of the way, even with the ground beneath her feet slowly turning into mud. She acrobatically retrieved her dagger and almost without thinking, slashed it through the air. The arctic fox squealed out a battle-cry as it flew through the air towards Melinoë.

Almost against her own better judgement, Melinoë sent her own Hounds towards the fox; the spirit animals met each other in combat, two versus one. However, Harry's fox had an advantage Melinoë's Hounds didn't – it's size. The fox was cunning and agile, using its smaller size to dodge, dive and make calculated attacks, often causing the Hounds to either turn too late or miss their own attacks entirely.

After around a minute and thirty seconds, Melinoë recalled her Hounds when she saw they were making no headway, and Harry did the same with her fox. Both of them regarded each other with a look of amusement; this was the first time they were truly evenly matched, it seemed. Melinoë swished her sword once as she prowled towards Harry, her grey eyes starting to glow. Instinctively, Harry's own magic turned her eyes silver.

This time when the Goddess of Ghosts and the Mistress of Death came to blows, it was like the sound of the weapon strikes could be heard from the far corners of Olympus to the very depths of Tartarus itself. In the sky above, lightning seemed to strike every time the swords made contact with each other. Melinoë and Harry did not give each other a moment of breathing space, looking as though they were engaging in a very deadly tango of some kind.

For a moment, it seemed to Thanatos and Hypnos especially, that the two were so focused and caught up in the adrenaline of their duel that it felt as though the divine Glamour that Melinoë was wearing and the semi divine powers within Harry were starting to show themselves by accident. However, both the Divine Twins of Death and Sleep found that they were too spellbound to move, let alone intervene.

Finally, Harry plucked up the courage to try and end the stalemate between her and her divine friend. She allowed her silver lightning to burst from her hands and begin coating her Death infused rapier with white hot Quintessence; Melinoë mimicked her, only using fire as green as the Killing Curse on her blade.

Lightning clashed with fire; thunder rolled in the skies above. It was at a third thunder clap that Melinoë momentarily made a rare mistake and messed up her footwork, and Harry was more than happy to exploit that moment of weakness. She guided both her sword and Melinoë's in a complicated upward motion from her wrist that sent Melinoë's weapon shooting from her hands and falling to the ground, transformed back into a staff.

The Goddess of Ghosts blinked in shock while the Mistress of Death smiled with satisfaction. "Yield."

Melinoë recovered quickly and chuckled. "Very well done, Harry. Masterfully done; you win this round."

Harry grinned as the lightning around her sword dissipated and she sheathed her weapon. The two of them bowed amicably to each other and Melinoë went to retrieve her staff as Harry already made her way back to the slightly shellshocked group of onlookers, who were either watching from Umbrella Charms or umbrellas Perrie had conjured. There were more than a few mouths being gathered from the ground; even Loreley and Abraxas had lost their composure!

"Merlin's sainted mother Hunith, that was absolutely epic!" Artemis was one of the first to recover. "You two were so quick and deadly – how did you manage to keep up with each other like that? And what the hell was with those spirit animals?"

Naturally, Orion was the second one to recover from his shock. "They were so quick too! Those Hounds barely stood a chance against that fox. How did you manage to conjure that fox anyway? Why did it look like a Patronus?"

"Better question is, how long did it take you to learn how to look like avenging goddesses and where can I learn?" Druella added, grinning.

"Can you get any more awesome?" Felix huffed. "Good grief, Harry, can you please leave some awesome points left for the rest of us?"

Harry snorted. "I am sure there is still plenty to go around, Felix."

"Damn, no offence, Harry, but it is no wonder Grindelwald and his followers want you Peverells dead," Caius shook his head in disbelief. "It looked like you could take on Merlin and Morgana themselves, and win to boot!"

"OK, now you're just exaggerating," Harry huffed.

Amaris Nott then appeared at the door. "I think all of you had better come inside! The rain does not look like it is going to stop any time soon and we do not want any of you catching a cold or I will never be able to look any of your parents in the eye ever again."

The group obliged reluctantly, gathering their weapons and quietly disappointed that their training session had been cut short. Amaris, Thanatos and Hypnos quickly quelled any bad feelings about it by offering to play some Dragon Land. Harry was about to also join in for a game, when she felt someone slip their arm through hers.

She turned to see Loreley smile at her serenely. "My Lady, may I have a moment of your time? There is something I would like to discuss in private."

Harry was a little surprised by the formality but nodded, nonetheless. "Of course, my friend. We can talk in my study."

That was still something that she needed to get used to saying. Her study! The novelty of it.

The Lady Regnant led her friend upstairs, a few of the Peverell ancestors watching them curiously, especially Evren's brothers and sisters-in-law. Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus were a little surprised to see their Niece and the Malfoy heiress enter and then put up privacy wards and Silencing Charms around the door to make sure no one could eavesdrop on their conversation. The Three Brothers wanted to inquire what the matter was but their questions were soon answered because both girls got straight to the point.

"What did you See, Lorri?" Harry wanted to know as she turned to her friend with her arms folded.

"I Saw several paths that cannot be diverted. One such path is all too clear for me to ignore," Loreley answered with a sad, ethereal tone. "Events of your past will come to pass but not in the way history will remember them."

Harry frowned, her heart starting to beat faster. "What do you mean?"

"The duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald," Harry was more surprised that Loreley gave her a straight answer rather than another riddle. "It will take place May 1945, just as it had done before. But this time, one player will be different. One will not be the one to duel; history will only write it as such."

OK, now she is making no sense, Harry's Slytherin voice grumbled.

"I see," was all Harry could say in order to give Loreley an answer. "So … who will be the one to do the duelling in the stead of Dumbledore or Grindelwald?"

Loreley's eyes saddened even further; Harry's heart skipped several beats. This was not good.

"Gemini will be taken," Loreley was back to the riddles. "One will fight the Dark Lord and the other will battle the one everyone thinks will triumph."

Harry sighed with irritation and leant against her desk, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Gemini; twins," she muttered to herself. "Unfortunately I know more than one set of twins. You and Abraxas; Septimus and Octavius; Druella and Arcturus – so which one is it?"

Loreley smiled sadly. Harry already knew what that meant; the Sighted Malfoy was not allowed to say anything more. The Mistress of Death growled to herself. "OK, so we both know that in my own timeline, Dumbledore triumphed over Grindelwald … and took the Elder Wand from him."

"What?!" Antioch did not look or sound happy about this at all.

"Indeed," Loreley confirmed, ignoring the outburst.

"This cannot be allowed to happen again!" Antioch thundered. "I will not have that old coot wielding what is not rightfully his. Plus, the Elder Wand knows its Mistress; it will not obey anyone else."

"True," Loreley concurred whimsically.

Harry began pacing. "The events of the original timeline will come to pass – just not in the way it is expected," she repeated to herself as she did so. "A change in the duel so … it may not only just be the players involved. Who is to say that something didn't happen to the Wand …?"

Harry stopped and started grinning to herself. Loreley recognised that look in her friend's eyes and too started to smile broadly.

"Niece, what are you plotting?" Cadmus demanded, his eyes widening. "You are not planning on doing something to the Elder Wand, are you?"

Harry snorted at that. "Uncle, please give me more credit than that. No, I was just thinking – do you think there is a way to make a replica Elder Wand that we could, if and when the opportunity presents itself, switch with the real one? It looks and feels like the real thing, but it isn't?"

The portraits gaped at her; Loreley smirked.

"You want to make a … counterfeit Elder Wand?" Ignotus practically squeaked.

"What is the best way to protect it from power-hungry bastards?" Harry responded candidly. "The real Elder Wand will be kept in a Peverell residence where it belongs and not used unless absolutely necessary. Unbeknownst to the so-called victor of the duel between them and Grindelwald, they will not be in possession of the real thing and will not be the wiser to the deception."

There was a moment of unbelieving silence.

"I have just come to a realisation," Antioch stated. "Our Niece is one very scary Lady."

The Lady Regnant of House Peverell preened at this point.

"That could work masterfully," Loreley put in. "If executed properly and at the right time."

Oh boy, that sounds ominous, Harry's Gryffindor voice commented.

"It is a bit of a risk, but it could indeed pay off," Cadmus pointed out.

Harry felt her eyes steel. "True, but it is a risk I am more than willing to take, Uncle. I remember what happened after Dumbledore gained the fame and notoriety he did after the duel with Grindelwald, and frankly, the power got to his head. The Elder Wand got to his head! I don't care if it is Dumbledore, Grindelwald or anyone else who wins – they cannot be allowed to be in possession of the Elder Wand. Under no circumstances. It is too tempting, too corrupting. It needs to be controlled and hidden."

Antioch didn't look to happy about this but he kept his mouth shut; Cadmus and Ignotus could not help smile.

"Spoken like a true Peverell," Ignotus commented fondly.

"Yes, from your line," Antioch shot back. "Had I had children-"

"Yeah, yeah, we know, 'they would have made our House even greater and more powerful'. You have said that before," Cadmus grumbled.

"I was not going to say that!" Antioch flushed.

"Yes you were," his brothers retorted petulantly.

It was at this point that there was a knock at the door. "Lorri, Harry, are you two still busy? I would like to ask Harry a quick question," Artemis called through the door.

Harry looked to Loreley with an inquisitive look and cocking her head slightly. Loreley simply gave her a nod of affirmation to open the door. The Traveller unlocked the door and let her doppelgänger in. Artemis was smiling a little awkwardly for her doing as she entered the room, closing the door carefully.

"Sorry to disturb but I was hoping to catch a moment with you, Harry, to ask you something on behalf of Charlus and Dorea," Artemis also got straight to the point, fumbling nervously with her hands. "They want to get to know you better and want to have an informal dinner before New Year's Eve – the 30th actually – for a few family members they can tolerate and some friends. So they thought to kill two birds with one stone and invite you to it, and Nott and Riddle too of course. Will you come? I will be there with Heron if that makes any difference. I think the Weasleys and Prewetts will be there too-"

"I would love to come," Harry reassured with a smile. "I will also ask Altair and Tom if they want to come."

"Heron already did that," Artemis flushed. "They both said yes."

Harry chuckled. "Of course they did."

Artemis' Imperius gold eyes were hopeful. "But it is also a definite yes from you?"

"Absolutely. I mean it when I say I would love to come," Harry reassured with a small smile.

Artemis sighed with relief. "It's just I know that you want to hide your Potter connections and I thought that you might think a dinner party might be a step too far-"

"I attended a Malfoy Ball. I think everything else pales in comparison," Harry quipped.

The Potter heiress laughed while Loreley chuckled quietly. "Fair enough!"

"Oi! Girls! Are you three done gossiping?" they heard Malum shouting from downstairs and then wincing in pain after no doubt being nudged in the ribs. "OW! That was uncalled for. I was just going to ask if they wanted to join in the next round."

"You go upstairs and ask them like a normal person!" Heron scolded, sounding eerily like Walburga for a moment.

Harry, Loreley and Artemis exchanged a look and left the study to rejoin their friends downstairs. The girls did end up joining the next round of Dragon Land, teaming up against Caius, Arcturus and Felix to make sure they were the final three left and then trying to take each other down with ruthless calculations and manoeuvres. Heron, Altair and Tom were actually rather scared at how effectively they had taken down their opponents and then how evilly vindictive they were to each other as well.

"Bet you didn't See that one coming, eh, Lorri?"

"Harry, you left your left volcano open to attack."

"Already got the ruby from there, don't worry, Lorri."

"Arty, I think you should wipe the smug smirk of your face, considering the fact you lost your crown."

"Oh no you didn't, Lady Peverell!"

Amaris Nott was blinking in shock at the state of the two heiresses and the Lady Regnant; she had played several rounds with Altair and Ava herself but she never had experienced such outright viciousness during a nice simple board game. Athenaïs, Andras and Frey were laughing happily.

The purebloods and Minerva were brought back home just an hour before dinner. The children all left in notably high spirits and though disappointed they had to leave again, they seemed to be happy with the knowledge that their first lessons went rather well and that they were welcome back soon. There were a few people – Ophelia, Minerva, Heron and Caius – who had given Harry undecipherable looks before they left but each said goodbye with a smile to her so she pocketed it away for a later date.

Dinner was fortunately a nice tomato soup but it was filling enough. Harry thought perhaps Perrie was trying to fatten her up – the Lady Regnant knew she was a skinny shrimp but she didn't think it was that bad anymore. After all, Harry could no longer see her own ribs. The evening was rather relaxing: the whole house spent their time reading downstairs with the radio on, with Harry and Tom both having noses in books that were part of Harry's Yule bundle from Heron, Artemis and Nymera.

But something was clearly awry in the Realm of Hypnos because that night, Harry could not fall asleep at all. No matter what she tried: counting sheep, counting dragons, singing herself a lullaby, listening to the snoozing of Athenaïs. Nothing worked.

Coincidentally, Tom and Altair also could not get to sleep at all. They too had tried everything bar knocking themselves out and still the Realm would not let them in. In Tom's case, he had eventually decided to try and trick his body into going to sleep by tiring himself out by walking.

That must have been his line of thinking because Harry, even from her own chambers, could hear Tom's chamber door opening and closing, and heard the faint padding of feet heading towards the stairs. Realising that she also had a window of opportunity to try and perhaps get something out of her lover, Harry pushed her duvets off her, swung her legs out of bed and exited her own rooms as quietly as she could manage so as not to disturb Evren and Athenaïs.

Altair was just coming out of his room, dressed only in a night shirt and trousers, when she approached the corridor that headed towards the stairs to the ground floor. He flushed momentarily when he saw her in her dark green night gown but composed himself rather quickly.

"This is ridiculous," he whispered to her. "All three of us can't get to sleep?"

"Apparently," Harry replied quietly, though she quietly had a theory as to why.

Hypnos was doing this, for some reason.

The pair carefully but quickly headed towards the stairs. They saw Tom pace in the living room, almost chewing on his own perfectly kept nails, looking nervous beyond belief. He finally came to a halt in front of one of the living room windows, the moonlight hitting him directly, making him look otherworldly. Harry wished she had her Hansa Canon with her to snap a photo of him. He looked almost too beautiful to behold.

The Mistress of Death forced herself out of her stupor and descended the stairs as quietly as she could manage but the two last stairs did tend to creak just ever so slightly so Tom was soon alerted to her presence. Her heart almost came to a momentary halt when she saw the sadness in those burgundy eyes when he looked her way.

"Harry. You can't sleep either?" Tom stated quietly.

"No," she confirmed lightly. "I think my mind may be too busy."

"I can relate," Tom sighed in quiet irritation as she drew closer to him.

"I know that. Perhaps we should both unburden ourselves," Harry suggested as she leant against one of the sofas. She gathered up her courage. "I think we can both agree that whatever has been bothering you cannot go on like this. You know you can tell me anything – can tell Altair anything. We have all three of us been through enough for me to say for certain that-"

"You will never forgive me for it," was the barely audible reply that cut across her plea. Tom closed his eyes as though he were squashing some internal pain. "Perhaps you won't think any less of me but you cannot make the same guarantee for him. He will never forgive me for it!"

"I think I can make that decision for myself, thanks," by now Altair had joined them, a look of determination on his countenance and his arms folded. Tom wilted slightly at this.

Harry continued as she stepped ever closer to one half of her heart who was close to tears. "I have already told you that I have no right to judge you considering the fact that my hands are not clean! I have done things that are morally ambiguous and have wanted to do things that turns people's stomachs – I will do my best to listen, as you have done for me."

"You need to talk," Altair added firmly, tone full of authority. "We see that you are in pain and it hurts the both of us to see you like this. We want to help, and you're not even giving us the chance."

Tom's head shook despondently. "I am not giving you the chance to run away, and you will run away when you find out what I have done …"

"You are not giving us the chance to prove you wrong either," Altair pointed out. "We want to prove you wrong; it's not every day that Tom Riddle is wrong after all."

A sliver of a smile grew itself onto Tom's countenance for a moment but quickly disappeared again.

"Plus, when it comes to people I love, I refuse to be a coward," Harry added. "Nothing will make me run. Nothing!"

By now, Harry was looking Tom directly in the eye with as much determination she could muster. Tom gulped slightly, no doubt seeing that her eyes had flashed silver momentarily. He pursed his lips for a moment, and it was then that Harry realised that Tom's resolve was close to breaking. Her theory was soon proven because he made a quiet confession, "I … I don't know how to tell you."

"Then don't tell us, show us," Altair suggested with a small smile. "We can use your Pensieve since Harry doesn't like invading people's minds."

Harry nodded in agreement. Tom looked resigned at this suggestion, but soon started to nod slowly in affirmation. He already knew that neither of his future Consorts could be dissuaded from changing their minds on the matter. Tom led the way back upstairs, a conflicted look on his face the whole while; Harry didn't need Legilimency to know what was going through his mind. She and Altair exchanged a look of silent agreement just as the triad approached Tom's room.

Tom didn't say anything as he activated his privacy shield, used a non-verbal spell to light a few candles in the room and then summoned his Pensieve. Even in the light he looked a sickly pale; Voldemort had looked healthier than Tom in this moment. Harry's stomach turned at seeing him like this. It was almost a relief to her when Tom put his brown and white yew wand to his temple and started pulling out several strands of silvery wisps of memory and put them into the Pensieve.

After putting the final memory into the bowl, Tom stepped away from the Pensieve, his eyes still turned to look at the sumptuous carpet beneath his feet.

"This is it," he whispered, his voice too cold and emotionless for Harry's liking.

Altair didn't like it either, judging by the dark look he had on his face. He and Harry exchanged a determined look and the both of them stepped up to the Pensieve and with one more agreeing look, they both put their heads into the device's enchanted waters.

- Memory one-

A fifteen-year-old Tom was sitting in the Hogwarts library on his own, lapis lazuli eyes on newspaper clippings he was studying in front of him from around one hundred and two hundred years before. After exploring Tom's suspicions about who his mother was, Abraxas Malfoy had delivered the goods and more. Apparently there was a rich Muggle family in the town of Little Hangleton with the name Riddle; the current heir looked too much like Tom to deny there was a relationship between them. Apparently the man had run off with one Merope Gaunt in 1925 and then came back months later in 1926, claiming she had bewitched him with witchcraft. The woman was never seen again.

Using the resources of the library, Tom began tracing the Gaunt lineage. In almost a day he discovered a few familial links. There were several names that stood out: Potter, Sayer, Steward, Black, Peverell …

Slytherin. That would mean … that his abilities to speak Parseltongue came directly from the Great Founder himself! That meant, Tom was Salazar Slytherin's last remaining heir. Thrilled with excitement, Tom began combing through every damn tome he could find in the library on the Four Founders.

Finally, he found what he was looking for. The Chamber of Secrets, something considered a myth by most. The place where Salazar Slytherin kept his most beloved familiar. But the question remained was, where was the entrance?

Tom began pacing up and down. Where would Slytherin have been able to build such a chamber in this blood maze of a castle? He stopped for a moment and frowned before riffling through the pile of newspapers he had requested from the librarian.

GAUNTS LOSE SEAT IN WIZENGAMOT DUE TO LOSS OF HOUSE STATUS

HESPER GAUNT BREAKS FROM THE FOLD; MARRIES A POTTER

NEW PIPES AND PLUMBING SYSTEMS INSTALLED AT HOGWARTS

It was this particular article that Tom turned his attention on first.

Last Thursday, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Dilys Derwent, announced that the call for the renewing and renovating of the old Hogwarts plumbing system is to be undertaken in the coming months. Considering the fact that the pipes have for almost a century been in an abysmal state, the news has been greeted with enthusiasm from the students and public alike.

Yesterday, plumbers and architects arrived at Hogwarts to commence their work. A charitable sixth year boy from Slytherin House by the name of Corvinus Gaunt kindly volunteered to assist in the renovations and additions of the new pipes, providing a much needed student perspective. "After all," Mr. Gaunt told our reporters, "we students are going to be one of the main benefactors of these pipes. We need to make sure they are functional, but will not be a hindrance to our lessons."

Tom laughed in triumph. Corvinus Gaunt; of course a Gaunt would have made sure that their ancestor's familiar could move around undetected. The pipes … the plumbing; the creature could move through those … which meant the Chamber lay at the heart of the pipes!

Tom could barely contain his excitement. Finally, a legacy! A noble legacy that he could fulfil. One that was worthy of his time and powers.

The Slytherin Prefect carefully packed the newspapers away as he noticed more and more students coming into the library and giving them back to Madam Ellis with a winning smile. All he needed to do now was find that entrance, and find a way to make sure that he could achieve immortality.

After a month of following clues in newspapers, myths and gossip between portraits, Tom discovered the entrance of the Chamber in the girls' lavatory on the second floor.

-End of memory sequence one-

Harry didn't dare to look at Altair; she was already bracing herself for the next memory she was about to see because she already knew what she was probably going to see.

-Memory two-

Tom was in the Restricted Section of the library in the late evening, way past the time that most of the student body would be in bed. He already had a pile of books out and was working by the light of one lone candle. He shut the book that he was currently studying in annoyance; that one didn't have the answer he sought either.

Once more, Tom got up and went to peruse the shelves of Dark Magic and this time went soe far as to get to a shelf with a collection of several, darkly bound books – all of them black in colour with silver engraved letters in their spines and front. One of them, the smallest of them all, lodged between the other taller and much grander looking books, caught his eye.

The Secret of the Darkest Art.

This sounded very promising indeed so Tom took it and once he sat down, opened it to the index page.

'Creating Inferi'

'Olde Dark Powers'

'Where To Find Restricted Products'

'Immortality'

The fourth chapter title caught Tom's eye almost immediately and he flipped to it with a malicious eager glint in his eyes and soon began to read out loud.

"Immortality is the concept of living in a physical form an infinite or inconceivably long period of time. Immortality is one of the only known limits to magic; it is nearly impossible to make oneself immortal. The only known and working ways are making and using a mystical object that has the power to maintain life such as the Philosopher's Stone created by the famous alchemist Nicholas Flamel, or a Horcrux."

Tom frowned at the last word. He has read almost every single book on Dark objects in the library and yet, he has never heard of such an instrument before. What was it? He continued to read. "Another possibility is that if one were to possess the items known as the Deathly Hallows, reportedly created by the Three Peverell Brothers in the 13th century, they would possess the capability of becoming "Master of Death". However, in order to become the "Master of Death", one has to be willing to accept the inevitable."

Tom sneered at this passage and scoffed. "The inevitable," he sneered.

A Horcrux. That sounded promising.

Tom turned his attention onto the ritual. The ritual itself included the Ten Spears, which connected this realm with a higher metaphysical or magical force: the Crown, Understanding, Wisdom, Severity, Mercy, Beauty, Victory, Glory, Foundation and Kingdom. The sacrifice must be killed both physically and spiritually for the Old Religion always demands payment for the Darkest rites – a ritual area must be created in a room only lit by candlelight with a graphic drawn on the floor in the shape of the Ten Spears. The body must be placed near or on the graphic.

It seemed simple enough, but there was always a catch with these types of rituals; Tom knew that. He also wasn't content with risking only one object for his soul. What if the object was sussed out and destroyed? It would leave him completely vulnerable.

Perhaps … there was someone who give him an answer. Someone who could be trusted keep his mouth shut. Tom smirked to himself. Fortunately he knew just the person.

The following evening, Tom found himself at another dinner party with Malum, Felix, Heron, Caius and a few other Slytherins with Professor Slughorn.

"Brighter than half the staff you lot are!" Professor Slughorn was once more singing their praises.

While the others chuckled or simply smiled, Tom smiled. "Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?"

"Tom, I couldn't tell you if I knew, could I?" the Head of Slytherin answered. "By the way, thank you for the pineapple. You are quite right. These are my favourites." He leant forwards slightly, curiosity in those eyes of his. "But how did you know?"

Tom shrugged. "Intuition," he answered as blasé as he could manage.

Slughorn studied him for a moment longer before he noticed the time. "Oh good gracious, is that the time already? Off you go, boys, or Headmaster Dippet will have us all in detention!"

The others sprang to their feet in a hurry, but Tom did not. In fact, he stayed behind long after the others went back to the Slytherin dungeons. Malum, Felix, Heron and Caius had wanted to ask why but they knew better than to question Tom by now.

Slughorn poured himself a nightcap. "Look sharp, Tom. You do not want to be caught out of bed after hours, Prefect or not."

Tom didn't answer him.

Slughorn frowned. "Is there something on your mind, Tom?"

"Yes, sir," Tom replied as he began pacing. "You see, I could not think of anyone else to go to. The other professors, they are not like you. They might … misunderstand."

"Go on," Slughorn sipped his Firewhiskey.

"I was in the library the other night, in the Restricted Section, and I read something odd about a bit of rare magic," Tom continued. "It's called, as I understand it, a Horcrux."

The Potions Master's face suddenly dropped all jovial manner in seconds. "I beg your pardon?"

"Horcrux," Tom repeated as innocently as he could manage. "I came across the term while reading and I have to say, I didn't fully understand it."

"I'm not so sure what you are reading, Tom, but this is very Dark stuff. Very Dark indeed," Slughorn already looked and sounded like he would need at least two more glasses of Firewhiskey after his current one.

"Which is why I came to you," Tom continued.

Slughorn stayed silent for a moment as he turned very green indeed. "A Horcrux is an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul."

Tom prowled slightly forwards. "But I don't understand how that works, sir."

"One splits one's soul and hides it in an object," Slughorn began miming a little with his hands. "In doing so, that part of your soul would be protected if you were attacked and your body destroyed."

"Protected?" Tom repeated.

"The part of your soul that is hidden lives on," Slughorn clarified. "In other words, you cannot die."

Tom turned around at this point and walked in the direction of the fireplace and stood there with his back turned to his teacher. "And how does one split his soul, sir?"

"I think you already know the answer to that, Tom," was the Head of Slytherin's slightly muted reply.

"Murder," Tom voiced out loud.

"Yes. Killing rips the soul apart; it is violation against nature, it is violation against the Old Religion."

Tom began fumbling with his hands. "Can you only split the soul once, sir? Or, for instance, seven?"

"Seven?!" Slughorn repeated in horror. "Merlin's beard, Tom, isn't it bad enough to consider killing one person? To rip the soul into seven pieces – this is all hypothetical, isn't it, Tom? All academic?"

Tom turned around with a charming smile. "Of course, sir," he replied. "It'll be our little secret."

-End of memory two-

-Memories three and four-

"Corpus meum custodierit et me nutrit saecula. Sine paenitentia discernebam pars animae meae et custodierit me morti et vivat in aeternum."

Myrtle's dead body lay on top of a chalk drawn graphic with ten points, her hands pointing down to the eight point of the Ten Spears. All around there were only black and white candles lighting the second-floor girls' bathroom. Tom's diary lay close to Myrtle's feet; the Dark wizard was chanting the spell, kneeling in front of the diary, chanting.

As Tom spoke the last three words of the spell, Tom began to glow with an eerie white light and he began to convulse on the ground, narrowly missing knocking three candles over. It was a sensation that was worse than being burned alive; it felt like the skin was being melted right off his bones. It took all of his self-control not to start screaming in pain; it would have meant game over before it could all begin. Once it was over, which was after an eternity, Tom sat up and saw that the candles had gone out and his diary suddenly felt heavier the moment he picked it up.

Other than that, Tom did not feel any different. He then went towards the mirrors that hung on the entrance of the Chamber to see if he looked different.

Yes he did – his eyes had turned from dark lapis to a dark burgundy. He smiled to himself in satisfaction. It had worked! It had actually worked!

Tom then turned his attention back onto Myrtle and the evidence of a ritual. With a non-verbal, wandless banishing spell, Tom erased all evidence of the graphic and the candles, leaving only Myrtle's body on the cold, stone floor.

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

"Corpus meum custodierit et me nutrit saecula. Sine paenitentia discernebam pars animae meae et custodierit me morti et vivat in aeternum."

Tom had taken drawn the graphic of the Ten Spears around the body of his father, ignoring the bodies of his grandfather and grandmother. The lights were all off, save for the candles lit around on the dining table and the ones on the chandelier. The Gaunt ring that Tom had obtained from his Uncle Morfin was placed by the head of the man who had disowned him.

This time as he finished the spell and the skin-melting sensation of his soul once again being split caused Tom to almost bury his tears of pain and anguish at being disowned into laughter, collapsing onto his knees and convulsing on the immaculately polished wooden floor of Riddle Manor. It gave him some satisfaction that these pieces of scum could do nothing to soil their beloved home with the magic they so feared and hated.

Once more as the ritual hit its zenith, all the candles in the room were blown out by a wind that had not entered via a window or through the fireplace. Tom stopped convulsing and he picked himself up from the floor. He retrieved the ring, smirking to himself with satisfaction. As he put the Gaunt ring back onto his ring finger, he went to look himself in the mirror.

Oh he looked too much like his filthy Muggle father! How that stunning appearance had concealed nothing but malice and ignorance – his mother had been a fool for thinking this man could have been a proper father or husband to anyone!

As Tom's hate and anger boiled, he noticed that his burgundy orbs began glowing an eerie, beautiful ruby colour. It was like the colour of the Cruciatus Curse. This made him chuckle to himself.

How fitting!

He turned to the bodies of his Muggle family, shooting only a look of what could be deciphered as regret in the direction of Mary Riddle. At least she would not have to go through the pain of mourning and burying her husband and son. That was the only consolation Tom could give himself for what he had done.

But he knew that he still had a loose end that he needed to tie up. Morfin Gaunt – that manic old fool needed to be dealt with. He was the only one who could give the Aurors the prime suspect to the crime that had happened here.

Tom cleaned up behind himself and then slipped out of Riddle Manor like a ghost in the night, and headed straight back for Morfin's shack.

-End of memories three and four-

Harry and Altair withdrew from the Pensieve as the memories turned into nothing but black wisps in front of them. Harry was breathing heavily; she never saw how Tom had performed the rituals. She only knew that he had done them; seeing it for herself was a whole other thing than simply knowing about it! Tom had been on the cusp of turning into Voldemort, she knew that perfectly well. Those eyes had been Voldemort's, clear as day.

"So are you going to give me a head start or are you going to throw me into Azkaban yourself?"

Tom's beautiful, silky voice, dripping with regret and resignation, knocked Harry out of her thoughts and her shock. She composed herself in seconds, turning to him. "There is more to this, isn't there?" she whispered. "You would never have shown us this unless there was another reason. What is it?"

Tom swallowed. He didn't answer but he pointed straight to his bedside cabinet. It was Altair who immediately hurried over to it and began opening the drawers with some force and began unpacking books, herbs, a ritual tablet, the ritual implements from Loreley, several candles, a ritual knife. The Nott heir immediately picked up one of the books; his eyes widened and he immediately flicked through the book to a particular chapter.

"The Rite of Paean," Altair finally stated out loud, almost breathing out in relief. "I know this; it is also known as 'the Healing'." He looked up, his hazel eyes meeting Tom's anxious burgundy ones. "You want to undo what you did. You have everything, except the full moon … which is tomorrow!"

Tom nodded.

Altair shoved the books back into the drawer, along with everything else, and came back over in a hurry, disbelief in his eyes. "Are you telling me that you actually contemplated doing this complex and barely studied ritual on your own? Without telling Harry or me what you were going to do?"

"It more than crossed my mind," Tom admitted.

"Idiot," Harry commented. "Have you forgotten that I can help with the soul mending part of the ritual? Also, the Rite of Paean is in many of my uncles' journals. You could have all the help from Peverell magic you want! You should have told us sooner!"

Tom blinked in shock; Harry and Altair glowered back.

"You … you're angry because … I didn't tell you sooner?" Tom could barely believe his ears.

"Yes, you moron!" Altair thundered. "You may have been able to create Horcruxes on your own, but even I know that to heal a soul requires a whole lot more help to undo, both physically and magically. Because this Rite is firmly rooted in the Old Ways, ways whose symbolism is lost on most because no one considers them anymore. I might be thick as hippogriff shit most of the time but if there is anything that I am happy that I was forced to study by my father, is our old family grimoires. Ritual symbolism is kind of my thing."

"And Death Magic and Soul Magic is Peverell territory," Harry added. "Plus, I am Mistress of Death and surrogate daughter of Tosti as well as friend to the Goddess of Ghosts. That is another bonus."

Tom took a few steps away from Harry and Altair, shaking his head in disbelief. "You cannot be serious. I am not worthy of your help, or forgiveness! What I have done-"

"Most will never forgive," Harry agreed readily. "But I know only too well what it is like to fear for your life, to fear never being able to truly do what you want to do. Your Boggart made it all too clear: you feared being forgotten in death, unloved by the time you die and being utterly unremarkable. Well, your Boggart is wrong on all counts."

Harry carefully stepped in Tom's direction, not breaking eye contact for a single moment. "You are remarkable; the very fact you somehow managed to actually do that disgusting Horcrux ritual is astounding. Your ability to master magic without so much as trying is remarkable. Your passion – it keeps people's attention for a reason. You will never be forgotten in death; you will make your mark on the world, I know it, because I know you, Tom. I know you; I have known who you are the moment we met."

Tom's eyes widened slightly at that, and Harry could not help but smirk a little. "But more importantly, you are not unloved! I love you. I love your utter obnoxious attitude, your natural confidence and your ability to infuriate Dumbledore at every turn." This got Altair and Tom to snort. "I love how you stand by your principles, even if I don't agree with them. I love how you actually took what I said on board and tried to do what I asked even though it was difficult. I love how despite what you learned about my status as Mistress of Death, you didn't allow that to change how you see me. Do I really need to go on? Do I need to remind you that Altair loves you? That Athenaïs adores you too?"

Tom didn't answer; his eyes welled up. Harry huffed, gathering her breath to continue ranting. "I think there is only one way that I can prove that there is a reason I will not run away, not sell you out to the Aurors, and insist on helping you mend that soul of yours."

The next thing Tom and Altair knew, Harry had summoned one of Tom's daggers from their box on the desk. She had caught it and then had grabbed a hold of Tom's right hand and put it into the shocked boy's hand before forcing the boy to put the blade to her throat, pinning her to one of the posts of the four poster.

"Harry, what in Morgana's name are you doing?!" Altair wailed, looking absolutely terrified that he did not have his wand on him.

Tom tried to escape from Harry's vice-like grip but was failing.

"Proving my point," Harry's tone had turned menacing and animalistic. Her now silver eyes bore into Tom's burgundy ones. "Kill me. Slit my throat. Come on, make another sacrifice; what's another life? You already took four."

Tom turned a sickly pale, hurt and disbelief entering his eyes.

"Are you mad?!" Altair's eyes widened. "You can't mean it-"

"Altair, he believes he is a cold blooded killer!" Harry snapped. "You heard him. He thinks that he is not worthy of our forgiveness – of redemption! So, let's put that to the test: will he hurt someone he truly loves to get what he wants?"

She released her grip on Tom's hand.

The dagger was still at her throat. Tom's burgundy eyes bled ruby red as tears welled up further in his eyes. Anger and hurt made him begin to physically shake and with an infuriated and anguished cry, Tom flung his dagger away to the side, the dagger impaling itself into the wall just beside the bed. The Dark wizard turned his attention back onto the woman he loved, tears streaming down his face.

"Never," he growled as he hit the post above her head with his fist. "I will never consider raising a dagger or fist or wand at you to get what I want! What I want is you – you, Altair and our future. The blood that I will spill will belong to those who dare to harm either of you! I can't … I can't hurt you. I won't hurt you, no matter what weapon you put in my hands and challenge me to use. I can't … I can't lose you."

Harry smirked with satisfaction. "See? Not so beyond help as you thought. Anyone with more power-hungry intentions and bloodlust would never contemplate not slitting my throat. They would have done it without a moment's hesitation."

Tom was breathing heavily, still furious at Harry's flippant disregard for her own life. He began calming down a little as his lover began wiping away the tears and the paths they left. His breath hitched a little as Altair drew closer, an assessing look in his eyes.

"Do you truly regret what you did?" Altair wanted to know.

Tom swallowed. "If you had asked me a month or two ago, I would have said no. But now, I regret splitting my soul using a method that cost four people their lives. I regret fearing death so irrationally. I regret killing my grandmother … I regret so much I can't list them all."

"What did you use to kill Warren?" Altair continued.

Tom closed his eyes momentarily. "Slytherin's Basilisk to kill her physical body. I used another Curse to kill her spiritually and essentially tie her to our plane of existence after death."

Altair's eyes bugged out of their sockets; Harry smiled with resignation.

"So it wasn't an Acromantula after all," Altair scoffed. "Ophelia had been right."

This made both Tom and Harry frown at hearing that. Altair shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, as though wrestling with something. The Nott heir looked up and gave Tom a serious look. "I want the honest truth from you. Are you going to ever try something like this again?"

"No," Tom's voice had its conviction back. "I will find another way to extend my life. One that doesn't require someone to die."

Altair nodded, pursing his lips for two seconds, licking them to moisten them. Both Tom and Harry did not even try to kill the feeling of desire at this. "Well, we can't let you completely off the hook for what you have done," the Nott heir's voice sounded slightly ominous and heavy. Harry's apprehension only faded when she saw the look of desire and mischief in Altair's eyes.

It seemed it was time for their payback.

Harry took the cue and with a smirk and a flash of silver in her eyes, she froze Tom to the spot momentarily with the spell she used on Oizys and then used her Shadows to disappear and reappear behind him. Harry released him from her spell and then tapped him on the shoulder. Utterly bewildered, Tom whirled around and the moment he did, Harry grinned and pushed him back lightly on his hips. Because of his shock making him lighter, Tom lost his footing and fell back onto the bed, barely able to register what had just happened.

Laughing with glee, Harry was soon sitting on top of him, silver eyes dancing with mischief. "Got you!" she stated triumphantly.

"That's one way of doing it!" Altair laughed as he jumped onto the bed, landing rather elegantly next to his still stunned lover with a calculated look in his hazel eyes that seemed to start glowing purple. He cocked his head at Tom with a smirk. "But he hasn't really learned his lesson yet, though, has he, love?"

Harry chuckled evilly. "No, he hasn't."

Tom frankly didn't know whether to be scared or turned on. He didn't get too much time to think about it because the next thing he knew, he felt a set of sharp canines on his neck as Harry began getting revenge on him for marking her neck. It was painful – she put more pressure than he had done – but that pain was quickly replaced by pleasure. Pleasure that robbed him off the ability to speak or think coherently. Tom moved to hold her closer but soon found that his hands were being pinned down – one by Harry, and the other by Altair.

"No you don't," Altair grinned. "You don't get to touch her until she says so or I say so."

Tom groaned in response. Harry chuckled at this. "He's coming undone already, Altair," she noted with amusement. She stroked the other side of Tom's neck with her right index finger. "You want to take this side of the neck or shall I continue?"

Altair hummed as he too began to caress Tom's neck, causing a shiver of desire to run through Tom's body. The Nott heir smirked and then set to work on marking his Dark lover's neck. Harry watched in satisfaction as Tom's body convulsed slightly under her with pleasure.

"… Merlin … halves of my heart, we have to … we have to stop," Tom finally managed to find some oxygen to use to convert into speech.

"Do we? How boring," Harry pouted teasingly. "We're only just getting started."

Tom moaned, shaking his head. "We're … losing … control."

"No, you're losing control," Altair corrected with a chuckle as he withdrew a little and sat up, eyes dancing with mirth and mischief. "Get used to it, my darling Moon. You will not always be allowed to do what you want."

Tom's eyes flashed red and his eyes darkened further. Altair then turned his attention onto Harry, caressing her cheek down to her neck lovingly; the Mistress of Death closed her eyes at his touch. The Nott heir's finger travelled down to the nape of her neck. "Do you trust me?" Altair whispered.

Harry nodded; she couldn't deny him at present even if she wanted to. She felt Altair gently and carefully pull the long, right, bell sleeve of her nightgown down, exposing her shoulder and started planting deep kisses along her shoulder. Harry's eyes closed immediately; she could not stifle the moan that had already wanted to escape. Altair snaked his right arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him as he kissed her neck gently, before then guiding her to look up in his direction and capturing her lips in a heated, wanting kiss. Harry returned it enthusiastically, engaging in a battle of dominance with her lover, one hand dug into his curls and the other entwined with the one on her waist. Both moaned and growled in unison as they duelled, Altair's fingers gripping her possessively.

It was only when Harry managed to pull herself away from the kiss did she turn her attention onto Tom, who was watching them with a dark smirk and glowing red eyes, and removed her night gown from her other shoulder, where the Lichtenburg figure of the scar from the Power Wither Hex still adorned her skin. Tom's eyes glowed even more; Harry smirked and made a challenging "come on then" movement with her left hand, which she had removed from Altair's.

Tom joined them in an instant, his lips on Harry's scarred skin, laying reverent kisses on the spidery fingers of the intricate scar, causing Harry to shiver from the rare touch to her highly sensitive skin. Her breath shuddered with each kiss; she knew they needed to stop soon before none of them could keep full control anymore. But Harry couldn't help pull Tom closer to her either, nuzzling his own shoulder as he continued to pepper kisses on her latest battle scar. Eventually, she used her left hand – the hand in his curls – to lift Tom's head away from her shoulder in order to capture his lips in a hungry but reassuring kiss. Tom returned it in a heartbeat, left over tears falling from his eyes as he did so, which Harry wiped away gently and lovingly. It was only when Tom's hands began travelling under her night gown did they realise they were perhaps going too far soon to be able to stop themselves.

Altair, who was somehow the one who was maintaining the most control despite how much he wanted to lose complete control, gently began to extract his lovers from each other when he sensed the danger, capturing Tom's lips with his own as he made sure that Harry was at a safe distance to catch her own breath.

"OK, now we are losing control," Altair commented in a whisper as soon as he released Tom's red, slightly swollen lips, albeit reluctantly.

"Yes we are," Tom agreed hoarsely, struggling to breathe, keeping a firm hold on Altair, as though he were a life line.

"I hate that we have to stop," Harry confessed as she reluctantly pulled her sleeves back up.

"We are already playing with fire," Altair pointed out. "Anymore and I am pretty sure I would not have been able to keep Tom off you."

"I fail to see the downside," Harry grumbled candidly. "The both of you have seen each other half naked before; I am feeling a little left out if I have to be so honest. I haven't had that pleasure yet, all because of these stupid courting rules."

Both Tom and Altair flushed at hearing that.

"Soon, my love," Tom promised as he crawled over to where she was lying down and lay down beside her and gently caressed her hair. "But Altair is right; at the moment we are all too … excited. It is not a good idea right now."

Harry huffed but didn't dare to argue. She then looked at Tom with a small smile. "Would … would you like us to leave so you can sleep without too much fuss?"

Tom's eyes turned serious for the first time in a while. "I would like nothing more than to sleep with the both of you in my arms tonight. If … that is what you both want?"

Altair chuckled as two pairs of expectant eyes turned to him and he started to already get under Tom's duvet. "You were not going to be able to make me leave you tonight no matter what you said," was Altair's candid response as Tom and Harry joined him under the duvet. "We need all the rest we can get if we are going to do an ancient rite."

As the three of them snuggled down for the night, Harry grinned to herself. "The two of you don't happen to snore, do you?"

Tom and Altair snorted with laughter at that. Not long after they stopped laughing and giggling, the Realm of Hypnos welcomed them into the fold and for the first time in a long while, the triad managed to get a peaceful night's sleep. So peaceful in fact they slept so deeply that come breakfast time when none of them had responded to the Patronuses from Perrie, Nicholas and Melinoë, there was a mild panic going through the adults, apart from Hypnos.

Perrie, Nicholas, Melinoë, Thanatos, Amaris, Athenaïs and Andras searched the house almost from top to toe until Athenaïs and Andras caught wind of their Witch and Wizard's magical presence in Tom's room and went straight towards it, closely followed by Melinoë and Amaris.

Athenaïs and Andras scratched at the door quietly. The Goddess of Ghosts and Lady Nott exchanged a silent look before Melinoë used a quiet Unlocking Charm, opened the door and the disguised goddess, Altair's mother and the two familiars poked their heads around the door. They could barely contain their surprise when they found the three lovers sleeping soundly under the covers, their hands entwined over the duvet. Melinoë could not resist getting Harry's Hansa camera and snapping a sneaky shot of them for a later date. Amaris, while she was a little nervous about protocol, could not help but smile and coo a little at how peaceful and adorable the three of them looked.

If only everyone was as blessed as her son and his future Consorts.

Athenaïs and Andras relaxed considerably now that they knew Harry and Altair were all right and padded back downstairs for breakfast. The adults all made an agreement to let the kids sleep for a little while longer, which Hypnos was happy about.

He almost regretted keeping them out of his Realm to talk.

Almost.

Now Tom had the help of the Mistress of Death in his plans; that was all Hypnos cared about.

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

It seems that there are some events in the future that are set in stone; Harry will need to keep her wits about her. Who is Gemini? Will she succeed in making a counterfeit Elder Wand before they get taken? How will Tom, Harry and Altair perform the ritual without Lady Nott finding out what they are up to? What other events await them before the Yule holiday is over? Stay tuned to find out!

Wooooo this was another long one guys! Once more I am sorry that it took so long. I wanted to make sure everything was in its proper place and sequence. The memories especially were difficult because I kept changing my mind about how I wanted them to be viewed and it wasn't until a reviewer mentioned the Pensieve that I was like, "yes this is it". I would also like to point out that I used a French fan made origin movie called Le Maitre de la Mort about Voldemort as my inspiration for what happened when Tom first discovered the Horcruxes. Seriously, I spent a ridiculous amount of time scrolling back in the first part of the movie because I was trying to catch as much of the book that they were using the film as I could manage. I still couldn't get everything for it though, which sucks. I hope it isn't too bad though. Naturally the scene with Slughorn was from the sixth movie.

I don't think I have made a disclaimer for this story in a while but let's just do it for surety's sake: I am just building a sandcastle in JK's sandpit. I don't own Harry Potter apart from Athenaïs the Gargouille. My Merlin mythos is also the property of the BBC.

Orion: I had a lot of fun sword fighting! Wally is really good with a sword.

Gellert: … Is that all you have to say about the events? Really?

Orion: I would never make a comment about my best friend's love life!

Gellert: You're boring.

Orion: And you are creepy!

Gellert: *spluttering* I am not!

Orion: You call them your 'ship', whatever that is!

Gellert: Oh you need to get with the times, Orion.

Orion: That makes no logical sense …

Oh dear … We will see you guys in the next chapter!

Kingmaker'sUmbreon