CHAPTER 31

27 March 1994 - Silver Trio's Room - Slytherin Boys' Dorm, 4:00AM

Eyes wide Harry shot up in his bed with a sharp gasp, as though he'd awoke from a nightmare that slowly slipped from his consciousness. Thankfully Selma was draped across his headboard and not nestled in his scalp, else his spoiled rotten adder would have taken serious offense at being disturbed.

Quietly checking the date and time, Harry grunted in pain as a throbbing headache bloomed across his head, feeling as though a white-hot lance were being driven through his scalp.

He screamed into his pillow for a few moments, attempting to muffle the sound.

Suddenly, every piece of his past timeline chose that moment to whir-click into place in his mind, causing his headache to disburse in a blink.

"Blimey…I MADE IT!"

With an excited "WHOOP!" he jumped out of his bed whilst making a racket, succeeding in rousing his two roommates from their sleep.

"Whuzzat?!" "Huh?!"

To Blaise and Theo's combined shock Harry enveloped each of them into tight bear hugs, practically lifting each of them from their beds. Theo was further startled when Harry grabbed each side of his face and stared at him with a profound intensity that made his spin.

In a flash the younger Potter excitedly summoned his toiletries as he muttered all sorts of bizarre things to himself, things that made his friends exchange tense and worried looks as they made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

"...Um…you alright there Harry?"

He laughed in response to Theo's question, a boyish and exuberant sound.

"All's well that ends well mate! And right now, everything is looking rather swell!" He laughed as though he'd told a particularly funny joke, further worrying his friends that he may have suffered some kind of rapid onset mental decline.

Or a stroke.

"Seriously mate, you're acting…strange."

Harry paused at the bathroom door before turning and looking at Blaise straight in the eye. "This is how our world will end," he said clearly and distinctly. "In a cold yet all-consuming flame."

"Wh-what?!" Blaise sputtered in shock at the words. His dark eyes grew impossibly wide in complete surprise as Theo gawked in confusion at the weird exchange.

Harry laughed again. "I said – This is how the world will end, In a cold yet all-consuming flame! Ha-ha!"

Both boys cringed at the sound of the Lockhart-esque laugh that bubbled out of their friend's mouth as he practically jumped up and down in inexplicable excitement. Further startling his friends he ran to each of them and squeezed the life out of them once more, skipping his way to the bathroom once complete.

Before shutting the door, he turned around and stared at his best friends with a disturbingly bright smile.

"Listen! I gotta do … some stuff! Important stuff! Don't bother waiting for me at breakfast time, I won't make it. But, I will catch up with you later! Ha-ha!" And with that, he slammed and warded the bathroom door shut as he went about his ablutions.

Theo looked completely dumbstruck. "What in Merlin's saggy y-fronts is the matter with him?!"

But Blaise didn't respond. To his friend's increasing shock, Heir Zabini simply stared at the door for several moments as his expression grew uncommonly gray. Almost to the point of looking sickly. In a snap, he came to his senses as he turned to Theo.

"...No idea. Um…I've gotta…go…get…a book from the library. Need it for…McGonagall's class. Don't wait up." And with that, he summoned his travel cloak before briskly marching out of the room, breaking into a panicked run when he reached the Common Room out of Theo's view.

The flabbergasted ex-Nott just stared in amazement between the bathroom door and bedroom door, wondering what in Circe's name had gotten into his two friends.

"I don't suppose you know what's wrong with either of them?" he asked Selma, who'd awoken at the sound of Harry's spirited cheering. Giving the snake-equivalent of a shrug the adder slithered to land on Harry's still-warm pillow, blissfully returning to sleep.

5:17AM

Whistling 'Long Live King Drake' in anticipation of the upcoming Quidditch match, Luna made her way up the Astronomy Tower steps, practically floating upwards. As she was lucid dreaming she could have if she'd really put her mind to it, but then again, what would be the fun in that?

Reaching the massive viewing window, Luna deftly swung the railing to sit right at the edge, taking in the scenery. The full moon looked massive, its pale luminescence highlighting all of the witchling's favorite constellations. Flurries of snow fell from the sky, though they weren't cold in any sense of the word as they whirled around in hypnotizing patterns of unseen winds. A small flock of neon pink and orange Fwoopers chirped and whistled merrily as they flew by the Tower, a perfect facsimile of the flock Eurus kept in Little Eden.

Sighing decadently, Luna considered reviewing her memories as she was apt to do in these settings, but ultimately decided against it as she gazed out towards the lake and the surrounding Forest. The thought of the Dementors entered her mind, and with a shudder she shooed away the wrackspurts that sprung into existence at her distress. She wouldn't allow those filthy evil wraiths to ruin her perfectly peaceful dreamscape.

Resuming her humming, Luna merrily swung her legs off the railing as she basked in the moonlight, grateful for the few moments of peace. Her nose wrinkled as butterflies tickled her nostrils, before they flew away at her giggles.

"There you are."

Stifling her scream, the witchling whirled around at her unexpected guest.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?!"

The dream-form of Professor Trelawney merely stared at her as she continued her slow approach.

"I was looking for you. So I set out to find you."

Luna stiffened at that oddly grave response, and with a mere thought she manifested her wand in a vice grip. Keeping her eyes on the older witch, Luna slowly stood and climbed over the railing, bracing her back against it protectively.

Under the light of the full moon, the Slytherin was struck by how…lucid the Divination Professor looked. Her eyes - unobscured by the massive glasses she favored - shone with an unnatural and too-intelligent intensity as hazel orbs gazed unblinkingly into pale gray. She was dressed in a long white dressing gown, the gossamer fabric making her look as though she were floating.

Her nargles were also uncommonly calm, the winged matagot-like beings swaying in almost perfect synchronicity above her head. In her waking moments, Luna found Trelawney's astral creatures to be a marvel; they'd multiply and fly about in all sorts of fascinating non-Euclidean patterns if the witch were around large groups of people, before the multiples would once more re-coalesce into their original forms. Surprisingly enough they did a good job of keeping the Professor's wrackspurts at bay, which, despite her general frazzled nature, didn't often appear.

Jerking in frightened alarm at the Professor's sudden closeness, the heliopath snapped her wand up, a Boils Hex at the tip of her tongue.

"Back off. Please."

Trelawney froze for a beat as she tilted her head in a manner not unlike a cat. Disturbingly enough, her nargles mimicked her movement.

Then, she smiled.

"I am sorry dear. But it is time."

And in a movement too fast to comprehend, Trelawney grabbed Luna's wand arm and locked it behind her back as her other hand gripped the witchling's face tightly.

The blonde's terror compounded at seeing the Seeress' eyes go completely white, her hair whirling about her head as though it were alive. A sudden wave of unnatural coldness washed over the witchling, and she found herself unable to move, blink, or scream in terror.

All she could do was bear witness as the Inner Voice of Carya Trelawney poured from Sybill's lips in a deep and harsh rasp.

It will happen tonight.

With all obstacles removed,
the Prince will claim the Throne of Basalt and Silver.

Though blameless he may be, his actions shall be
as the beating of the butterfly's wings
as they herald the arrival of the Oncoming Storm.

By his choices shall the greatest of Rex Norvegicus' servants
be freed and the circle forged anew.

He-Who-Remains will be reborn in all his terrible glory.

And so shall the Four Heralds of Apotheosis -
Betrayal. Blood. Terror. Destruction.

And finally, the Cold Flame that shall pour forth from the Endless Abyss to consume us all.

Until at last, Fate's Final Question is asked, and Death's Ultimate Decision is made.

With a deep choking breath Luna bolted upright in her bed, startling her roommate awake.

"Lu?" asked a yawning Eurus. "You alright?"

The blonde didn't respond, merely snatched her wand from her dresser whilst desperately whispering "POINT ME HARRY POTTER!" Her wand spun for a moment before landing directly on its target's direction. In a flash, Luna raced out of the room.

Eurus could only gawk at that strangeness. "...What the hell?!"

5:49AM

Entering Prefects' Row Harry took a few steps before suddenly jumping as he felt a small hand fiercely grip his arm.

"Luna?!" he exclaimed, eyes widening at her appearance. Her pale gray eyes looked almost white in the low light of the hallway, blonde locks framing her head in a frazzled halo. With uncharacteristic urgency the witchling cast a slew of privacy charms, before leaning upwards to whisper Trelawney's prophecy urgently into Harry's ear.

"...Seriously?!" Harry exclaimed, emerald green eyes wide in disbelief.

She nodded frantically, eyes still uncommonly large in fright. They darted about to-and-fro, almost as if she were expecting the Divination Professor to emerge from the shadows and once more speak words of Destiny unto her.

Sighing tiredly at all the unfortunate implications of his sudden fate, Harry wrapped the blonde in a warm hug, soothingly rubbing her back as he felt the tension drain from her body whilst she gripped him like a lifeline.

"It'll be alright Luna."

"You…you promise?" she whimpered, suddenly terrified and so very sad for her best friend.

"Promise," he replied as he soothingly rubbed her locks, straightening them out as best he could.

Pulling away, Luna gazed intensely above his head, before nodding in seeming satisfaction as she gripped his hands tightly.

"See you at brekkie?"

He smiled gently. "Got something I need to take care of first." He looked significantly in the direction of the Sentinel. Grimacing but nodding nonetheless, the blonde gave him another fierce hug before exiting Prefects' Row.

Staring in the direction of the Lair's entrance Harry oscillated between anger and exhaustion, very peeved at the sudden turn of his reversal of fortune.

"Bloody Trelawneys…they ruin EVERYTHING!"

The Lair, 6:22AM

Tom Riddle swearing was something Harry believed he would never see or hear in his life, but alas, he sat gobsmacked as the sibilant curses curled around his ears.

Even more unbelievable was the Hydra's completely nonplussed reaction at one of their favorite Princes using the same kind of uncouth language they would have flogged him for, belatedly recalling the runespoor's scandalized reaction at him swearing just once.

"Well there's something you don't see everyday."

Emeritus Riddle glared at Emeritus Malfoy, who merely sipped at his tea whilst nibbling on an extra buttery croissant courtesy of Tweak. A multi-tiered tray of breakfast pastries dominated the table's center, along with steaming pots of all their favorite teas. Harry had gone to Severus' quarters after his shower and asked him to summon Tom and Lucius to the Lair, requesting that the Potions professor accompany their guests. He'd specifically asked his uncle-in-all-but-blood to not inform his mother, a request Severus found strange but nonetheless chose to comply with.

He could now understand Harry's reasoning.

"Another prophecy…a True Prophecy…given by the bloody ancestress of the same Seer who delivered the same Prophecy regarding your brother! Hecate above, thisss isss utter madnesss!" Tom looked genuinely exasperated, causing Lucius to snicker into his tea.

"Quite frankly…I'm starting to think the Trelawneys may have some kind of vendetta against the Potters."

Harry snorted at Snape's statement. "Knowing my bloody luck, more than likely."

"'The Last Potter becomes the Prince of Slytherin!'" Tom snorted indignantly. "I cannot believe that House Potter has had knowledge about the inner workings of Slytherin House's greatest secret for almost 200 years and only just now decided to reveal it!"

"Honestly Tom…I don't know what the Potter family knows. I don't even think James knows anything solid about the Prince position beyond the fact that it exists according to a True Prophecy. And as I said before, I can't tell you any details about the circumstances under which I learned about it because … reasons."

"...Right," replied Tom with a quirked brow. "And those same 'reasons' involve you being bound by a very restrictive oath in the near future that forbids you from telling us at all, just as those same 'reasons' required that you summon us here to ask to assist in a series of…tasks of varying specificity that you cannot tell us about either."

Harry merely blinked. "I can neither confirm nor deny Emeritus Riddle." He raised his teacup in mock salute, eliciting an amused eyeroll. Harry then paused, staring at Tom curiously. "You're not the biggest fan of Divination and prophecy and all that, are you?"

Riddle took a delicate sip of his tea before leveling a penetrating gaze at Harry. "To be quite frank…no. Granted, while my discovery of the existence of a magical world at the tender age of 11 would lend me to believe in a 'higher' preternatural power, I do find the entire concept of prophecy to be rather…self-fulfilling."

He took another sip of his tea as his audience sat captivated for a myriad of differing reasons.

"You bear witness or hear of a prophecy claiming that you will either do something or become the catalyst for something that bears world-changing consequences. As a result, you inevitably choose to perform a series of actions ultimately aimed at preventing the prophecy's passage, since most prophecies spell some disaster that will, in some way, negatively and radically alter your life. And with said actions, speed up the inevitable occurring. See? Self-fulfilling."

He finished his cup before pouring another, as the remaining members stewed over his surprisingly philosophical words. Megaera - the middle head of the runespoor - exchanged amused glances with Rajah, already well aware of the Emeritus' reluctance as it pertained to the more ephemeral of the mystic arts.

"Let's circle back to this 'Prince of Slytherin' prophecy later. When do you intend to tell your mother?"

"Later."

Tom's brow quirked at the rather brusque response.

"Because of those…reasons…she cannot know about this, certainly not today. As a matter of fact, I need her completely out of commission for the remainder of the day. She's meant to have dinner with Theo tonight and…it would be best if they remain in their room for the duration of the night." The image of their bloodied corpses flashed in Harry's mind, causing him to flinch imperceptibly. Severus and Tom noticed his reaction, rather visceral to the eye of a Level Seven Legilimens.

"...That serious?" whispered Severus.

"Very." He and Tom exchanged a sharp glance before nodding as one. "We will take care of it."

Harry sagged in visible relief. "Thank you."

"Moving on," interjected Lucius quietly. "You mentioned that you required some…ministerial support?"

Harry nodded. "I do. I…I can neither confirm nor deny that there will be a Death Eater attack in Ilkley, near or around Citadel Rowle. I can neither confirm nor deny that the Death Eaters known as Mr. Tyrfing and Mr. Justinian will attack the civilian population, resulting in…significant casualties. I can neither confirm nor deny that they may escape."

Shocked silence met his statement.

"You are absolutely certain of this?"

The Claimant grimaced. "I can neither confirm nor deny."

Lucius frowned before snarling. "There've been multiple anonymous reports to the Auror Department regarding sightings of the Azkaban escapees and Thorfinn Rowle lurking around the centuries-old manse." The visages of Astoria Greengrass and Penelope Clearwater flashed in Harry's mind, before he blinked them away.

"The former are false considering our…houseguests…but the latter is of grave concern considering Rowle's suspected reputation as Mr. Tyrfing. It goes without saying that he is extremely dangerous; a capable and vicious warrior skilled with wand and blade. I know Amelia had a few of her team patrolling near Citadel Rowle, but she's had to shift more resources to Hogsmeade and muggle London given the most recent attacks. I…I'm of the belief that those anonymous reports may have had the opposite effect of what the sender or senders intended. Too much of the 'boy who cried wolf' and what not."

"Well, I can neither confirm nor deny that in this case, the boy certainly did not cry wolf." Lucius frowned severely. "I'm really not sure how any of it may or may not be prevented, but, if you come up with a plan, please don't let me know."

"Because 'reasons'?" replied Lucius sardonically. Harry only nodded, snorting when the man sneered.

"Oh, and speaking of wolves… one in sheep's clothing will reveal themselves tonight. Along with Fenrir Greyback and his pack."

The silence stretched taut. "...Tell me you're joking."

"Trust me Tom, I am not. This…person….will reveal their true intentions tonight, and bring with them Fenrir Greyback's pack. Said individual will pretty much confess to all of their crimes, and do so in a gloating manner that confirms their status as a Death Eater in no uncertain terms." The men gawked in disbelief.

"Not only that, I'll require some means of recording their confession that will potentially hold up in court. Because as an Occlumens, my testimony may be called into question once this individual's…plot is revealed. I cannot stress enough that it will have to be foolproof, because Merlin-forbid if I'm called to the stand and it's somehow revealed that I am Occlumens…anything I say will be rendered inadmissible under Veritaserum."

Several seconds stretched by somewhat awkwardly, before Tom sighed and pulled out a small brass orb from his inner robes pocket.

"Second edition Eye-Spy, courtesy of the Ministry of Magic. That particular model was phased out of production in the early 1970s, and thus was allowed to be sold in very limited quantities on the open market, restricted to rare antiques dealers that are only accessible to the old families. To activate it, simply press the groove above the eye and release; it will self-confer a Notice-Me-Not and a Camouflage Charm whilst actively recording. You can summon it to you with a simple Accio once complete. The serial number will match a legitimate purchase record from Batworthy Junk - Bygone Relics and Present Vestiges just beyond the High Street in Hogsmeade. In case very inquiring minds want to know."

"...And you just happened to have one on your person?"

Tom smirked at Lucius' question. "Four in fact; one is much older, another is my…personalized copy, and the other is not available for purchase, at any price. Do with that what you will." He leaned over and handed the orb to an amazed Harry, who whispered his thanks before tucking it into his inner robes pocket.

"Anything else?" asked Tom cheekily.

"Uh… yes, actually. Do you know how to get out of animagus suppressant cuffs?"

Riddle blinked. "And why would you need to know that? Are…are you pursuing animagery?"

Harry shook his head in the negative. "I'd have to sacrifice the integrity of Occlumency architecture for the less organized one of an animagus…not worth the risk. Still, me asking has to do with…reasons…and it would help considerably."

"Well," said Severus in sotto voce. "It's rather simple." As the only one who'd ever achieved an animagus form but chose not to delve deeper into the animagic arts for the aforementioned reasons Harry listed. Making detailed mental note of Snape's method for freeing oneself from suppressant cuffs, Harry thanked the man.

"Is that all?" asked Lucius sardonically. Wincing Harry once more looked towards Severus, who froze mid-sip.

"What?"

"Um…do you happen to know of a potion that mimics Elixir to Induce Euphoria when it's…sabotaged before completion? But without the 'driving into cackling insanity' symptom?"

Severus merely blinked in response.

An Hour and a Half Later…

Bidding the older men goodbye as they went on with their respective marching orders, Harry waited until he was completely alone. Sighing, he turned to address the Hydra.

"Honored Serpents…there is something of great import I need to share with you." Several snakey brows quirked at the boy's overly formal language, which he hadn't used since Draco Malfoy's censure a few years' prior.

"Whatever is on your mind, Claimant," replied Rajah in his rumbling bass. "Speak it."

With a deep Occludic breath, Harry shared the Prophecy that Luna had divulged to him by way of Professor Trelawney.

"Alas, here we are. In the past day, I have learned of two True Prophecies that indicate my becoming Prince of Slytherin might be a triggering event for some kind of dreadful wizarding disaster. I was understandably iffy on the first, but the second…coming from the same Seeress… I cannot in good conscience risk something like that."

He bowed his head to show the appropriate amount of contrition and disappointment he genuinely felt.

"I want you to know that I am grateful, truly grateful for the opportunities you have given me since we first met, particularly since I know I am considerably younger than most Claimants. Your counsel and encouragement have been invaluable to me. And more than anything, I wanted to prove myself worthy of your faith in me. To be worthy to sit on the Throne. To have the chance to serve Slytherin House in the capacity the Founder would have wanted. But… Salazar Slytherin himself believed that there were things much greater than personal ambition, and that the true worth of a Slytherin - a Prince of Slytherin - meant to sacrifice the reward of personal gain for the greater good of the House. And if the circumstance called for it, beyond the House."

He once more took a deep centering breath, deeply occluding as to not lose his nerve.

"And so, with the utmost respect, I hereby formally withdraw my name as a candidate for Prince of Slytherin and renounce my claim to the Hydra Throne."

A heavy silence fell as the nine heads of the Hydra Throne regarded the boy. Despite his best efforts, he could neither guess what the serpents were thinking nor how they would respond to his announcement. Even Delilah was silent, staring at him with a most severe expression that looked completely out of place on the loquacious Boomslang's face.

Suddenly, Megaera unfurled from her position to come eye-to-eye with Harry, gazing at him with a most uncommon intensity. While she had her moments of mercurial snootiness on par with her sisters, she was usually the most reserved of the temperamental trio.

"You believe in the…veracity… of the Seeress Trelawney's prophecy?"

He blinked at that surprisingly suggestive statement, before remembering Professor Babbling's lesson stating that the middle head of the runespoor was considered the dreamer, bearing close symbolic connection to the divining arts. "Considering the manner in which it was delivered to me, yes. Coincidence is one thing; but in the case of the Trelawneys and House Potter…I am choosing to err on the sensible side of caution."

The serpent blinked. "And you would forsake your mantle atop the Watchtower - your duty to guarding said Watchtower - on the mere words of a drunken Seeress?" The disdain wasn't hard to miss in her tone.

"If me forsaking the watchtower means guaranteeing its continued existence, then so be it. Better it remain for another worthy of its guardianship than to potentially crumble under my rule."

Megaera stared intensely at him for a few seconds, flicking her tongue out as though tasting the truth of his statement on the air. A few seconds passed before she resumed her initial position.

Rajah chose that moment to speak.

"You are resolved upon this course of action? You will not reconsider?"

Harry blinked once. "I will not." His tone was unyielding.

"Then leave usss," hissed the great Basilisk coldly.

Harry bowed respectfully before turning away, looking around the room that contained everything he'd worked so hard for but now, would have to leave behind.

Turning, he left the Lair.

The Great Hall, 8:03AM

'Wonder what's going on with them?'

That was the main question rattling around in Eurus' mind as she subtly gazed between Luna and Blaise.

The former split her time between making pancake and extra syrup towers whilst casting furtive glances at the Head Table, notably in the direction of Professor Trelawney. The woman-in-question merely picked at her food and took occasional sips from her teacup, content to ignore all the hubbub around her with her standard faraway expression.

As for Blaise, she'd caught him exchanging a rather tense glare with Professor Babbling, though it was gone in a blink before anyone else could notice.

While Heir Zabini was technically family (her many times great maternal grandaunt Aminata Kama had married his many times great paternal grandfather Tommaso Zabini and bore Armand Zabini), her Teta had advised her to "remain vigilant" around Blaise and especially around his mother. Though friendly they may be in outward interactions, the Kamas and Kolumbikos knew to never let a Zabini get too close.

Harry was also missing from breakfast, which was especially strange considering his appetite and love for food. Theo mentioned he'd also been behaving strangely earlier, but he'd chocked it up to pregame jitters.

'Though Draco seems to have a better hang of it.'

The witchling turned an amused eye to the Slytherin star Seeker who currently held court with Marcus, Graham, and Ginny, though she had no means of deciphering what they were discussing under the Muffliato. His undefeated 5-0 season streak of catching the Snitch had cemented him as 'King Drake', much to Heir Malfoy's shameless preening. While he'd initially been put out by Harry's nickname catching fire with the team, hearing his Housemates cheering it in song during gametime at the top of their lungs had readily changed his mind.

Shrugging her thoughts away, Eurus turned to Abigail Pugh to discuss their upcoming Herbology class and the best methods of repotting Venomous Tentacula.

Quidditch Pitch, 12:47 PM

Roaring cheers boomed out across the pitch, compounded by Lee Jordan's excitable cheering. Despite a very rocky start, Gyrffindor was catching up to Slytherin with a respectable 130-110, 20 points away from tying the game.

The Gryffindor Chaser faction of Johnson, Spinnet, and Robbins were considerably more in sync than they'd been during their first match, and their synergy was obviously paying off. Fred and George were relentless in their attempts at disrupting Slytherin plays, though the Serpent Chasers were doing a considerably better job at avoiding their attempts. Derrick and Bole were giving the Twins a run for their money, the two opposing Beaters almost coming to blows at one point.

Leveling his broom Harry took a few moments to observe the stands, making note of who was and wasn't present.

The Slytherin section was a sea of green and white, with many wearing the jersey numbers of Draco topped with matching snakey silver crowns in honor of King Drake. Eurus, Luna, Miranda, and quite a few others wore silver diadems with Medusa-like serpents intermingling with their locks, personally charmed by Lily (unbeknownst to all save the two Parselmouths) to hiss-sing along with the students' chants.

The sight of his mother cheering and screaming made Harry smile, filled with unfathomable joy to see her whole and alive once more, burying the sight of her lifeless and bloodied corpse in the deepest darkest bowels of his memory palace. She'd eschewed her place in the Faculty Stand and opted to sit with her House, an additional means to provide extra cover for Theo in case any of his Housemates decided to get…frisky.

'Speaking of…'

Pansy and Druscilla were missing, as were Neville, McLaggen, Smith, and Chang. Harry had surmised that they were the ones who'd poisoned PAC's club food resulting in their hospital stay, as some twisted ruse to implicate Theo and SPAAM.

Though the disappointment he felt in Neville was staggering, it paled in comparison to the seething hatred for Tiberius Nott - the catalyst for setting his best friend against the other.

Nevertheless, Harry had something special planned in response to PAC's scheme.

As expected Obediah was missing from the Gryffindor stands, no doubt running amuck sowing his seeds of sabotage. Harry couldn't wait to give the traitorous little shite exactly what he deserved come nighttime.

Shaking off his thoughts at the sound of Hooch's timeout whistle, Harry pulled up next to his team members. Ginny was scowling something fierce, an expression mirrored by most of the team. Draco looked particularly peeved, unable to find the Snitch and further unable to rattle the Boy-Who-Lived out of his mojo.

"Alright you lot," said Flint. "We're running a good offense out there but so are the Gryffs, and they're starting to catch up. Looks like the Snitch is keeping out of sight for now, but I know you've got it Drake." He nodded in Heir Malfoy's direction, who repeated the gesture with determination.

"I say we take out the Chasers, make it even - Chaser vs. Chaser." Brows quirked in amusement at the growling tone, all well aware of the youngest Weasley's extremely competitive spirit.

"And how do you suppose we're to do that?" grumbled Graham.

Harry leaned in conspiratorially, signaling the others to do the same. "I have a few ideas on that."

Five Minutes Later…

"ALRIGHT LADIES AND GENTLE-WIZARDS, LOOKS LIKE OUR RESIDENT SNAKEY SERPENTS ARE BACK ON THE SADDLE, THOUGH NOT FOR LONG WITH OUR BRAVE AND MIGHTY LIONS BEARING DOWN ON THEM!"

Lee's booming voice sounded throughout the pitch amidst the feverish cheering from the large crowd. His blatant favoritism for the Lions was unspoken, a matter of House pride he would always abide by. McGonagall, usually vigilant in her attempts to curtail her charge's voracity, was more focused on cheering on her team.

No way she was going to lose her 10-galleon bet with Severus.

"LOOKS LIKE WE'RE HEADED FOR SOME CHASER-ON-CHASER ACTION! LOOKS LIKE FLINT AND MONTAGUE ARE HEADING INTO A MODIFIED PARKIN'S PINCER AROUND ROBBINS AND…BLOODY HELL… DID POTTER JUST PULL OF A SABRYN STEAL?!"

Whilst Flint and Montague had succeeded in partially hemming Robbins in, Harry had raced in from on high and in the rear before lowering to fly directly underneath the Gryffindor Chaser on her left side.

THUMP.

Using The-Windmill-Turns-Steady as he dilated his perception, Harry used the rotating momentum of the 6th Step Air-based kata to jump off his broom and snatch the quaffle from Demelza's right hand, amused at her comically slowed shocked reaction. Safely landing on his broom that he'd positioned to land on the witch's right side, Harry ended his dilation and flew directly towards the Gryffindor goalposts with Ginny close to his right flank.

"LOOKS LIKE WOOD IS READY FOR HIM!"

And he was; the Gryffindor Keeper wore a look of complete determination that demonstrated his commitment in stopping Harry from reaching his goal.

Smirking, Harry increased his speed whilst racing directly towards Wood all while not releasing the Quaffle, causing the older boy's eyes to widen as he assumed the Slytherin would crash into him.

Increasing his speed once more, Harry feinted as though he were going to throw it through the topmost hoop before redirecting his broom upward, rocketing up and past Wood to turn in a graceful parabolic arch about 200 feet past the goals. With a clear shot he lobbied the quaffle into Ginny's direction, aiming much higher than one would have expected.

"BY CIRCE! WEASLEY JUST PULLED A CHELMONDISTON CHARGE!"

Ginny had leapt from her broom to catch the quaffle, twisting in an aerial pirouette before launching the quaffle through the right goalpost as a stunned Wood gawked.

The Slytherin faction went wild at the exceptional duoplay, chanting Harry and Ginny's names with renewed fervor over the Lions' spirited booing.

Shaken but not deterred, the Gryffindor Chasers resumed their standard Hawkshead formation as they charged towards the Slytherin goalpost after having resumed possession of the quaffle.

"AND HERE COME DERRICK AND BOLE, BATS AT THE READY TO INTERFERE WITH OUR BRAVE LIONESSES!"

The two Beaters looked as though they were heading directly for the witches. Fred and George flew to their flanks to provide protective cover, bats at the ready.

Slytherin was ready for them.

"AND HERE COME THE SNAKEY QUINTET FLYING IN HOT…NOW THEY'RE FLYING ABOVE THE LIONS TO MIMIC THEIR FORMATION…MERLIN'S BEARD, I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Lee actually jumped out of his seat, eyes wide in amazement as waves of shock sounded from both factions.

As one, Bole and Derrick initiated the Dopplebeater Defense, slamming the Bludger dead-center into Gryff Chasers and forcing Johnson to veer downwards lest she got a faceful of charmed dragonskin. Without pause, they tossed their bats to Marcus and Graham, who repeated the motion in a Backbeat-style and forced Fred and George to engage.

As one Ginny and Harry closed in on Johnson, who chose not to panic by the speed at which the two Slytherins bore down on her. Increasing the speed on her Nimbus, Angelina slipped into a sloth grip roll to obfuscate the snakes as she raced towards the Slytherin goalposts.

"JOHNSON IS DETERMINED AND SHE'S QUITE CLOSE! LOOKS LIKE SHE'LL…BY MERLIN, WEASLEY'S GOT HER WITH A SPEELMAN STEAL!"

Ginny closed in behind Angelina the minute she'd reoriented her form. TIming it perfectly, the youngest Weasley flew underneath her and jumped, hitting Angelina's broom with her feet and almost knocking her off her broom and causing her to bellow a few choice expletives. She'd dropped the quaffle as a result, directly into Harry's waiting arms as Ginny remounted her broom and sped off.

Sharply U-turning, Harry raced towards the Gryffs' goalposts with Flint and Montague racing to his front and rear for extra cover. Having regained their bearing, Fred and George followed in hot pursuit with bats at the ready.

A loud ruckus sounded over the Faculty Stands as Draco and Jim suddenly burst through the lower wooden turrets, nearly giving Professors Flitwick and Sinistra a heart attack. Both had been led on a very wild goose chase by the Snitch, almost crashing into each other several times over. Both boys were covered in all sorts of scratches, bruises, and enough splinters to last a lifetime.

The tiny golden ball raced sharply upwards for several hundred feet, before veering sharply downwards.

"LOOKS LIKE MALFOY AND POTTER ARE NECK-AND-NECK, NEITHER IS WILLING TO LET THE OTHER GET THAT SNITCH!"

The two Seekers were at par, racing at breakneck speeds towards the ground below. For all intents and purposes, they looked as though they were going to crash.

"JIM LOOKOUT!"

The Gryffindor's eyes widened at the Twins' matching shouts as the Bludger they'd lobbied towards the Slytherin Chaser trio had been deftly avoided, hurtling towards the two Seekers instead. Swearing viciously, Jim jerked his broom upward to avoid being smashed into bloody smithereens. Draco veered sharply left before reassuming his initial trajectory towards the downward-racing Snitch.

THUMP.

Dilating his perception, Draco witnessed the golden whirring blur slow down enough to allow him to increase his speed with his hands stretched, crying out in triumph as his hand closed around the Snitch. Extending his dilation a touch more, Heir Malfoy was even more pleased to have a split second more of time to jerk his Firebolt upwards and not painfully crash to his death.

'Broke enough bloody bones my first year.'

"AND IT LOOKS LIKE POTTER'S GOT ANOTHER GOAL AND…BLOODY HELL! MALFOY'S GOT THE SNITCH?! SLYTHERIN WINS THE MATCH?!"

Thrusting his winning hand in the air, Draco's exuberant smile grew wider as his team gathered around him in jubilation, clapping his back and cheering his name in victory.

The Slytherin faction went wild with raucous shouts of jubilation as their voices swelled in crescendo:

"LONG LIVE, LONG LIVE, KING DRAKE! KING DRAKE!"

Professor Evans' Private Quarters, 6:57PM

Lily watched with a warm smile as Theo finished his spaghetti bolognese with gusto, one of his favorites. The witch had specifically asked Tweak to make it for her private dinner tonight, wanting her would-be ward to feel more at ease with his favorite comfort food.

She'd spent the past half hour comforting the boy as he'd finally reached his breaking point regarding his Outcast status, releasing all of the grief and guilt he felt since horrifying events of the Christmas holidays past, feeling personally responsible for Mia's demise. Though Harry had repeatedly assured him that he was not to blame for the dutiful elf's brave self-sacrifice, Theo hadn't believed him. It didn't help that Skeeter had published all the lurid details of the muggles' violence - death toll included.

Lily felt her teeth grind hard at the sheer nerve of the sneaky little insect.

Her conversation had also led to Theo revealing his deepest fear; that he would be expelled from the Evans' Keep and lose the only real home he'd ever known. Lily had been horrified to hear that, assuring the boy many times over that he'd always have 'Theo's Room' at the Keep alongside her and Harry. His relief had been palpable, causing more tears to erupt.

Though she didn't voice it out loud, she cursed Tiberius' name in every Parsel-swear she knew.

Soon, the main course ended, and the two dinner guests watched their plates pop away to be replaced by their desserts.

"Oooh, coconut pie with blueberry swirl - your second favorite." She wiggled her eyebrows cheekily, causing Theo to snort out a laugh though he didn't hesitate to ready his spoon.

Doling out the dessert with cups of milk each took a few bites of the delicious treat, raining praises on Tweak's skill. That lasted for about ten seconds before each keeled over dead asleep, plates clanging to the floor as the remainder of their Sleeping Draught-tainted desserts slid off in audible splats.

POP!

Tweak smiled at seeing his evening charges fast asleep. Per his Head of House's instruction he'd dosed both the pie and the utensils, ensuring they wouldn't awaken.

According to Snape the potion was his strongest batch, and both Lily and Theo would be asleep well into the following morning. While the Slytherin elf thought it an…odd request at best, he'd readily complied when his Head of House revealed the real reason for their needed incapacitation.

Linking his fingers, Tweak made a series of mystical hand gestures whilst tapping into his minor Lar aspect, reinforcing the room's security magicks. While it'd been almost five centuries since he'd utilized this particular ability, his magic held true as shimmering whirls of arcane golden symbols sprang over the door and walls before fading away.

A few sharp snaps summoned thick warm blankets that draped themselves over the snoozing forms of Lily and Theo, firmly tucking them in

Setting an alarm ward that would sound upon them waking, the Slytherin Head Elf popped away.

Slytherin Common Room, 7:19PM

Waiting at the top of the stairs to the Boys' Dorms, Harry smiled upon hearing Miranda's entrance.

'Showtime.'

Hidden behind his shields, Harry found it almost easy going through the same motions as before, making sure to emphasize his shock and panic. Fully aware of Obediah's ruse, Harry could easily recognize the light glaze of her eyes under the lowlight of the Common Room. He'd initially thought to ask his mentors for help in combating an Imperius, but ultimately decided against it. It would be just one more charge to add to Obediah's many sins when the Death Eater scum was carted off to rot in Azkaban.

Harry would make sure of it.

Reaching the Whomping Willow, the younger Potter once more went through the motions of wondering how to bypass the mercurial tree, oddly pleased to hear Miranda's monotonous response.

Feigning for his wand when Miranda realized she'd been found out, Harry closed his eyes and allowed her Stupefy to wash over him, ready for the next phase of his mad plan.

8:21PM

Blinking to consciousness, Harry found himself oddly pleased to be back in the Shrieking Shack.

Just like before, his hands and feet were bound with thick cobweb-like rope, with Animagus Suppressant cuffs linking his wrists together. He was propped up next to Jim and James who were similarly bound.

Seneschal Potter leered at them in equal measure, looking inappropriately exuberant at the current state of the three Potters. He was standing next to the same orichalcum box as before, no doubt containing the stasis and bound form of Remus Lupin that the traitor intended to use as a killing machine against his captees.

If all went according to Harry's plan, the Death Eater wouldn't get the chance.

To the younger Potter's further surprise (and mild relief), there was no baby acromantula perched on the man's shoulder, nor could he detect any poisonous spiders running along the walls like before.

Well, none that he could detect at the current moment.

"Uncle Obi?!" "Obediah?!" The twin exclamations of Lord and Heir Potter sounded out in confusion, before both demanded to know what the hell was going on!

The man snickered sinisterly, rubbing his hands together like a movie villain.

"Seriously Obediah, what the hell is going on here?!" James sounded genuinely outraged and confused, truly at a loss as to what could have inspired this change in a man he considered a friend and confidante. Besides him, Jim fought to repress his growing panic and indignation at his godfather's admittedly strange behavior.

The Potter Seneschal clapped his hands in a gratingly Lockhart-esque manner.

"Isn't it obvious?!" he gestured exuberantly. "It's time for our long overdue Potter Family Reunion!"

And with that, Harry twisted his bound hands just enough to graze the Eye-Spy conveniently hidden in his magicked backpocket. Subtly fidgeting a bit more, he succeeded in using a forefinger to activate it, relieved to feel it hover out and begin recording.

'Hope that Notice-Me-Not keeps up its end of the bargain.'

"What the hell are you on about Obediah?! What the hell is going on?!" James struggled ineffectually against his bonds as he glared at his Seneschal, genuinely alarmed at the sudden change in the man's behavior. He continued his struggle, Alastor Moody's gruff words rattling around in his mind at the importance of any auror "worthy of his Academy diploma" to know at least three effective means of non-wanded escape. Mad-Eye had stressed wandless spells as the most effective method, specifically of the Accio and Finite Incantatem variety.

To James' disappointment he was completely incapable of doing either.

Jim struggled too, frustrated at his inability to break free. In a pique of desperation he went through the mantras Elder Yoo-Ri had shared with him to access his inner Animagus.

Unfortunately, he was entirely too stressed to successfully do so.

"I'm going to ask again Obediah, why are you doing all of this?!" James' expression narrowed. "If this is your idea of a prank, I'll be the first to say it's an incredibly shitty one. And I would know, I'm a bloody Marauder!"

Seneschal Potter rolled his eyes at his would-be Lord. "Yes, because I would definitely tie you up in the bloody Shrieking Shack as some elaborate comedic-scheme." He then smiled, revealing his row of overly white teeth that seemed to fill every inch of his mouth and glistened ominously in the moonlight-filled room. "Though I must admit, that would be rather amusing in an infinitely more appropriate context.

"Seriously Uncle Obi, what are you playing at?! We were supposed to have supper together and you ended up kidnapping us?!"

Obediah snarled. "First things first kid; kindly cease with the 'Uncle Obi' nonsense." He sneered viciously. "I've always loathed that insipid little pet name, an even greater testament to your enduring idiocy that you were incapable of realizing just how much I despised it! I mean 'Obi', really?! It was barely cute when you were four, and that was the last time it was remotely any sort of endearing!"

Jim could only gawk, equal parts shocked and hurt at the viciousness of the man he considered an uncle's statement. James glared at the man for his tone as Harry chose that moment to divert the conversation.

"How in Merlin's name did you even get all of us here?"

Obediah smiled cheekily. "Quite easily in fact; I snuck up on these two dolts while en route to our 'special supper' and Stunned them, easy peasy. I was expecting to have your mother well in hand, but it seems Lily Evans' Slytherin reputation well precedes her. A pity." He frowned in disappointment, genuinely irritated that Lily had somehow evaded his kidnap plot. "As for you Potter Minor…Miranda Bonnevie took care of that for me."

Harry snarled internally. "And where is she?" he asked woodenly.

"Just outside." He didn't elaborate though he did wiggle his eyebrows in a delightfully cheeky manner. Harry felt the sudden urge to punch him in the face.

"Seriously, what is happening?!"

"Isn't it obvious Lord Potter?," Harry spat angrily. "Your Seneschal's the bad guy." Then, he sneered at Prewett with noted emphasis on his wand arm. "I bet you even have a Dark Mark you've been concealing all these years."

Obediah smirked as he took a step closer to the Potters, slowly rolling up his sleeve.

"My dear boy…the Dark Lord is my past…my present…and my future."

And with that, he whispered a phrase that sounded as though he were speaking backwards, causing a tattoo resembling raised lupine claw marks in blood-red ink to materialize on his flesh. The real Dark Mark - hidden beneath his dress shirt - pulsed in tandem to the command, a bloodthirsty wolf squirming beneath his flesh.

All of the blood drained out of James' face as Jim gawked in horror.

"No…no-no-no! This can't be!"

"I imagine it can," replied Harry gravely. "And I bet you knuts-to-galleons that Pettigrew was a Death Eater too."

"Oh by Jove, I think he's got it!" The Potter Seneschal clapped his hands in affected delight, malice oozing from his pores.

"That's…that's not possible! Peter disappeared after the war, he went missing! He would never become a Death Eater!"

"Oh Potter Elder," replied his Seneschal darkly. "The possibilities are endless." He leered at James. "It was all too easy for Peter to convince you of his innocence, to convince you that your wife's…well ex-wife's concern was just overly Slytherin paranoia. How easy it was for him to convince you to give his poor ole buddy Obediah a chance, to help out a lowly little Hufflepuff. Rather easy for him to…escape whilst you dealt with the fallout." He snorted as James gaped. "You've always loathed taking personal responsibility for anything, so it was all too easy to swindle a Law Mastery out of you and become your House's Seneschal. The Queen to your King so to speak, the perfect position to weave a most delightfully tangled web."

James could only look horrified.

"Merlin's beard…" Harry allowed himself to pale in horror. "You were the means to sabotage James and House Potter… from the inside…"

The traitor smiled almost amicably. "As the Seneschal I quite literally have the legal power of the House in my hand. And since we've all long established that my employer is completely incapable of taking any personal responsibility, you can only imagine just how much he's willingly given over to me…" He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

"That's not possible," whispered James desperately. "I would never shirk my Lordly duties in such a way, least of all to you! Never!"

"Awww, isn't it Potter Elder?" Obediah scoffed. "Please! Your entire raison d'être involves you shirking your personal responsibility, especially to your House! The only reason you ever took any personal responsibility for anything is because you wanted to get into Evans' pants!"

It took great restraint for Harry not to body slam the man.

Repeatedly.

"Anywho my Lord," sneered Prewett at an increasingly reddening James. "Your childishly vociferous complaints all amount to the sum total of hot empty air. 'The Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter' signed all the paperwork months ago to give me Regency over the House itself in the event of his and his Heir's death! Even if Potter Minor here somehow lives to contest the claim, the reneging of your custody and parental rights over to your ex-wife during your divorce proceedings significantly diminishes those efforts. That, and his wardship with House Black and the inheritance caveat in House Potter's charter that prevents such a thing from happening. Good thing I plan on murdering you all tonight." He wiggled his eyebrows again whilst snickering in macabre delight.

Lord Potter stared at his Seneschal and Proxy with his mouth open, speechless at the sudden realization of how thoroughly he'd been betrayed.

"All this time," whispered Jim darkly, his tone thick with anger and some other unnamed emotion that made his voice tremble. "All of these years…you've…you've been a traitor for the Dark Lord."

Prewett snorted. "Traitor schmaitor! Please get over yourself!" He sneered. "You're a few months away from being 14, and let me tell you kid, it's high-time you got a taste of what the real world entails."

"The real-world entails you betraying your employer and joining in league with a murderous terrorist Dark Lord?" scoffed Harry, wanting to both anger the man and draw him closer whilst he worked on using the unlocking blood-rune on his suppressant cuffs. He'd succeeded in pricking his finger on one of the hinges connecting manacles together, using his dripping finger to mark alternating patterns of sunward Mannaz, merkstave Raido, and sunward Thurisaz across each manacle.

Harry's gambit worked as Obediah leered before drawing closer to kneel above him, expression twisted in a rage.

"Take care with how you speak of my Master, boy." His eyes became disturbingly onyx as though his pupils had grown to overcome his irises. "He is the greatest amongst us. The best amongst us. The Only One with the power and foresight to do what is necessary to save this wretched Merlin-forsaken world from itself and restore the True Balance." He couldn't resist sneering. "The sanctity of our world has been…defiled…by so many who don't deserve the worth of magic running through their veins. Filthy mudbloods…verminous blood-traitors…and the remaining loathsome purebloods who stand content in their indolence as they wield unearned power and authority whilst the lessers run ramshod of us all. You see Potter Minor, my Master's true lesson - the greatest message - is that there is no good. There is no evil. There is only-"

"Power," Harry interrupted snidely. "Power and those too weak to seek it."

Obediah smiled. "You are as well read as I assumed, Potter Minor."

"Gee, thanks. And did you know that it was the motto of Emeric the Evil? And that your Master quoted it to me when I was a First Year? Oh, that was a few minutes before your godson here set him on fire." His enemy growled in a fury, eyes becoming more obsidian. "And I'll say to you what I said to your Lord: Did you know that those were among Emeric's last words just before his execution?"

Seneschal Potter snarled. "Indeed I did…but then again…Death has always posed as a new beginning for those with the strength to seek that path."

Harry stiffened. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Obediah paused for a brief second, leering down at the younger wizard. "Rebirth… Renewal… Reforging of new paths…" Harry bit back a shudder at the portentousness of the man's words. "And of course, a little assistance from certain inside men."

"Inside men?"

The Death Eater smiled magnanimously. "Let's just say there's more than meets the eye with the Ministry of Magic. Specifically…that which houses all the magical enigmas within our brave new world."

Harry's eyes widened. "You don't mean-"

"Another lesson for another time, Potter Minor."

And with that, the Death Eater turned to summon Miranda back into the room. At this point Harry had succeeded in burning through his manacles with the unlocking spell, and with a deep Occludic breath, prepared to initiate his master plan.

"Time to get to the point of all this then, eh Obi?"

The man's eyes narrowed at the use of his hated nickname, but the expression was gone in a flash. "...As succinct as ever Potter Minor!" He clapped once before turning around. "Miranda dear, can you come in-"

THUMP.

Using his bound legs Harry twisted and kicked hard at Obediah's own, causing the man to fall downward with a surprised grunt of pain. Breaking free of his manacles Harry reached into his secret back pocket and drew his wand to point it directly at the downed Death Eater.

THUMP.

"EXPELLIARMUS TOTALUM! INCARCEROUS! DEPULSO!"

All three spells hit true as four pairs of wands flew from Obediah's person, before he was bound in thick rope and sent reeling towards a door.

With a sharp slash at his leg bindings Harry walked towards his enemy with his wand at the ready. To his surprise, Prewett didn't seem nearly as stunned as he'd hoped and in a flash, he transformed into a wolf spider that speedily scuttled towards the open exit.

THUMP.

From the perspective of his dilation the spider moved comically slow as Harry cast "HOMORPHUS REVERSO!"

A flash of violet light raced from his holly wand to slam into the spider, and just like that, Prewett was once again a man … who flew screaming headfirst into an adjacent wall. With a crash the betrayer slammed into the wall hard enough to put a noticeable dent in it, falling back with a pained bellow whilst clutching his profusely bleeding head.

Lapsing his dilation Harry cast Incarcerous, Silencio, and Stupefy in rapid succession, once more binding the man and knocking him out cold.

A confused and visibly distressed Miranda stumbled into the room, eyes no longer glassy as Obediah's Imperius ended upon his unconsciousness. She looked around her in a panic, eyes widening when they settled on the unconscious Death Eater. Harry took her hand to calm her a touch, pleased to feel some of the tension drain from her.

"How the hell did I end up here?!"

"Him," Harry replied, viciously kicking Prewett's downed form. "He Imperiused you and used you to lure me out here." All the blood drained from her face. "I imagine the curse broke when I knocked him out, but you should be fine." He gripped her hand firmly. "There's a secret path just beyond the backroom that leads to the Third Floor Corridor. Take it and get out of here."

She nodded before profusely thanking Harry, leaving in the direction he'd mentioned.

The younger Potter turned towards his father and brother, who gazed at him with varying degrees of awe. Ignoring their looks, he made his way over to undo their bindings, handing them their wands and placing Obediah's wand in his father's hand.

"Well?! Are you an Auror or not?! Arrest the man!"

His father jumped before going over to do just that. With as much subtlety as he was able, Harry summoned his Eye-Spy with a whispered Accio, deactivating it and placing it in his secret pocket compartment. He quietly Vanished his broken suppressant cuffs, not wanting to have to explain how he'd known to use blood magick to unlock them.

Task complete, he walked over to his twin and clapped him on the shoulder, startling the boy out of his shell-shocked stupor. "You alright there Jim?"

"Huh? Oh…um…alright…I guess. You?"

Harry sighed tiredly. "Alright I suppose." He squeezed his brother's shoulder in some measure of reassurance. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. That kind of betrayal…" He felt the boy flinch hard.

James finally finished manacling Obediah in the same suppressant cuffs his traitorous Seneschal had used on him. He wore an uncommon expression of hatred as he glared down at the man who betrayed him in every sense of the word. He was very tempted to get in a few free kicks against the man whilst he was incapacitated, but ultimately decided against it.

It would be in bad form and while James had been reneged to mostly desk duty, he was still an officer of the law and thus was bound by all relevant rules of engagement.

A strange beep-beep-beep suddenly filled the Shack, growing in volume.

"What the hell is that?" exclaimed Jim.

Harry and James' eyes narrowed as they focused on the strange sound. Suddenly, the elder Potter's eyes widened in recognition as the sound ratcheted up in frequency.

"Blimey it's coming from the box! DUCK!"

Harry leapt to safety while dragging Jim with him, covering his head with hands and screaming at his brother to do the same. James mimicked their movement, placing his body over Obediah's as to prevent the man from making any surprise escapes.

POOF!

All three Potters braced themselves for an explosion but none never came. Looking up, they realized that the box was gone.

Growling, Harry glared at his father. "That wasn't an explosive device, James. It was a bloody time-delayed Portkey! Prewett there probably charmed it to make it sound like a bomb so we'd all be too busy running for cover while it got away!"

"Well I'm bloody sorry, I didn't know! Blimey, what the hell was in that bloody box?!"

'Remus Lupin, one of your best friends who would have been forced to transform into a werewolf to try to kill your family. Who somehow ended up in a containment box in a Death Eater's possession, who will now be used for some Merlin-forsaken nefarious deeds.'

But Harry didn't vocalize those thoughts, merely shrugged in response. "No idea, but based on Prewett's schemes, I don't think I want to know. Now, can you please summon reinforcements so we can get our statements taken and get the hell out of here?!"

9:34PM

After being thoroughly checked over by Madam Pomfrey and giving statements to Aurors Thicknesse and Dawlish under the watchful eye of Scrimgeour, Harry acquiesced to his father's defeated request to "have a quick chat".

As they entered the class, Harry worked to school his expression into one of indifference whilst James wasted no time setting up the most powerful security Charms he knew before turning to face the younger wizard.

"Please," he said tiredly to his son. "Have a seat."

Gingerly sitting, Harry turned a blank expression towards his father. He bore an expression of patent defeat and exhaustion, understandable given the literal pile of shite his own Seneschal had unceremoniously dropped on his front door.

"So," said Harry quietly. "You said we needed to talk?"

James didn't reply for a few moments, staring rather unnervingly at his younger son as a myriad of emotions flicked through his eyes. The most obvious were regret and resignation.

"I'll need you to swear an oath," he croaked in a voice just above a whisper. "A special one."

Harry blinked. "A special oath," he repeated, already knowing what was coming. 'Good thing I told the others in the Lair.'

"Yes," whispered James, "a special oath. The Potter Oath, unique to our family and to this…circumstance… alone."

His lastborn son stared imperceptibly for a few moments before nodding woodenly.

Raising his wand, Harry repeated the words of the Potter Oath as James provided for him. Once complete, he gestured for his father to get on with it.

And with a laboring breath, his father once more revealed the deepest darkest secret of House Potter.

Fifteen Minutes Later…

James flinched at the disturbingly blank look on Harry's face, struggling to keep from fidgeting.

"All of this…all of your tantrums since I became Sorted…was because of a prophecy?!"

James winced at Harry's accusation. "Nathaniel, with the guidance of Cassandra Trelawney, took certain steps to ensure that the Prophecy would never come to pass. Or failing that, to delay it as long as possible. I have no idea what they did or how they did it, but it worked. For 200 years, each generation of Potters has only produced one child, always a boy. And we've always taught our children how not to be Sorted into Slytherin. And it worked until-"

"Until Jim and I came along. And me, being the lastborn Potter ended up Sorted into Slytherin. Which led you to send a drunken Howler on my second night at Hogwarts threatening to break mine and my mother's wands and just generally making yourself a ridiculously childish nuisance in our lives. Not enough mum had to divorce you because you thought I was a squib who should have been sent to live with her religious nutter sister." He sneered, pleased to see his father flinch.

"And from my Sorting, you presumed that I became, what, a Prince of Slytherin?!" Harry used every bit of his Legilimency to look scandalized and gobsmacked despite having been a (Claimant) Prince of Slytherin, though that was no longer the case because of his own doing. "I didn't realize getting Sorted into the Snake House meant that I automatically inherited a royal title of a non-royal house of a wizarding school!" He sputtered with enough indignancy to be convincing. "So let me guess, that makes mum the 'Princess of Slytherin' and grandmum Dorea the 'Queen of Slytherin'?! Merlin's beard!"

James grunted in frustration whilst furiously rubbing his increasingly reddening face. "The Prince of Slytherin must never be a Potter!" His expression hardened. "And you, Harry, are the lastborn male Potter and a Slytherin. I am not sure what the Prince of Slytherin entails, but given the circumstances, it is absolutely possible that you will become the Prince of Slytherin. And that can never happen."

Harry glared at the man for a few seconds before asking: "Did you ever tell mum about this?"

His father winced at the non-sequitur, before guiltily looking away.

Like before, Harry could have screamed at the utter ridiculousness of it all.

"Of course you didn't tell her, of course. Her firstborn son is the target of a prophecy about some dark lord nutter, and to add insult to injury, her second-born son is the target of another prophecy delivered by the ancestress of the same Seeress who delivered the other. Circe's sake, feels like some sick sort of joke!" He laughed deliriously. "And to add insult to injury, you CURSE AND MARK HER FOR DEATH!"

"I'M SORRY!" James yelled in anguish, pulling at his own hair. "I'm sorry, Harry! Believe me! I never wanted anything like that to happen! I just saw her with Sirius and got so angry and it's like my magic was reacting on its own and-"

"Do you realize how completely illogical you sound?! Blimey, your idiotic actions brought into question the legitimacy of your own Heir! Who bloody looks like you and me because newsflash - we're bloody identical twins! By Circe you're a bloody grown man with plenty of access to Occlumency - it's high time you BLOODY ACTED LIKE IT!"

The older wizard flinched like a chastened child as his face reddened, but otherwise didn't respond.

A minute or two passed tensely before Harry sighed in seeming defeat.

"You know what…I think it's high time I give you exactly what you want."

"What?" James asked again in confusion.

"I said, it's high time I give you exactly what you want. I am the lastborn Potter, and as a result of some ridiculous 200-year old prophecy, you think I'll be the harbinger of some doom and as such, did everything in your power to set my only brother and I against each other in reckless hate. Thanks so much for that."

James fidgeted uncomfortably as his expression once more turned guilty.

"Anywho…if you so strongly believe this prophecy tripe - and based on your actions you do - I think it's best if I save you all the trouble and do my part to prevent this prophecy from 'coming to pass'." He made sure that his dubiousness was obvious. "I'd like to formally request emancipation from House Potter."

"Emancipation?"

"Yes, emancipation. I'll no longer be a member of House Potter in every sense of the word. If the lastborn Potter is no longer a Potter, that should allay this prophecy from coming to pass."

"But … you're only thirteen!"

His son shrugged glibly. "I'll be fourteen in August. If I take my OWLs this summer and pass them, I can get emancipated on my own even without your permission. But as Lord of an Ancient and Noble House, you've had the authority to declare me a legal adult since my 11th birthday. That's how Pureblood families can get away with abandoning their squibs at that point when they don't get a Hogwarts letter. There's no problem with you granting me emancipation now. Even less so considering that you do not have primary parental custody of me and, my godfather already acts as my pater familias given his Godfather Oaths. Legally, I can become Harry Evans or Harry Black with little to no issue. As we've thoroughly noted, I am the second-born son, so there won't be any legal implications about me taking my mother or my godfather's last name."

James stared intently at his son as though gauging his intention, expression uncommonly intense as it was earnest. Finally, he sighed in agreement.

"I…I guess that will be alright."

"Good, because I have some additional terms. I'd like a severance package for my willful expulsion from House Potter. You gave my mother half of the liquid gold in your vault when she initiated divorce; I'd like a mere tenth of that. Two million galleons."

"Two million?!"

"Yes, two million! As I am not a squib and am choosing to walk away from my birth House, I am entitled to some monetary compensation under the Wizengamot Charters of which House Potter must abide by. I go away forever, and you no longer have to worry about some absurd prophecy coming to pass on account of me being Sorted into Slytherin. Who knows, maybe this will all end with me and you'll never have to worry about ruin coming to your House and damnation coming to the rest of the world." He leaned forward intently. "What do you say Lord Potter?"

James stared intensely for a few moments as regret, self-loathing, and a myriad of other emotions cycled through his eyes, before sagging in defeated agreement. "Alright Harry. It…it will be for the best."

Harry gave a genuine smile, probably the first he'd ever given in the man's presence. "Indeed. Anything else?"

"Yes. Your … voluntary disownment won't be official until we announce it before the Wizengamot in the upcoming summer session. As part of the House Business part of the agenda, I can formally emancipate you and then you can disclaim your Potter name." He hesitated. "But … just to set my mind at ease, will you swear an Unbreakable Oath to affirm our agreement?"

His son wrinkled his nose at the implication that he might change his mind, but nodded magnanimously. "So long as our oaths are reciprocal, then yes."

James exhaled in relief. "If it's alright, I'll meet with you tomorrow morning along with someone to act as a bonder." Then, he suddenly took on an anxious expression. "Will you be okay as Harry No-Name in the interim? Legal adoption takes about a month to go through with all the paperwork. It should only be through June and a bit of July due to the summer session when I can formally emancipate you. I only ask because…I know that's caused a lot of problems for your friend Theo."

Harry blinked innocently. "Are you planning on using the Ultimate Sanction on me?"

"Of course not!" he sputtered in genuine and shocked offense. "Merlin! I would never do something like that to you!"

Harry smirked as he rose from his chair. "Then, I guess I have nothing to worry about. I'll see you in the morning for that oath." Then, he headed for the door only to turn back when James called out to him.

"Harry! Thank you…thank you for doing this. And for saving mine and Jim's lives earlier this evening. I… I owe you more than I can say."

The boy studied his father intently. "You're welcome. Granted, you just discovered that a man you considered a best friend was a Death Eater who betrayed you by convincing you to hire another Death Eater who manipulated you in every sense of the word. This is literally the least I could do."

Though he flinched in reminder of the terrible betrayals wrought upon his House, James nonetheless gave a tired smile.

"...Yeah, I guess that's true."

"And while it's really not my place to say…I'd look to getting another solicitor to try to untangle Obediah's many webs, and formally censure and expel him as House Potter's Seneschal. It won't undo all the damage, but I imagine it would be a good start."

His father snorted sardonically but nodded all the same. "I imagine you'd be right."

Harry looked at James thoughtfully and then gave a surprisingly warm smile. Further surprising them both, he approached the man with his hand extended. James gawked for a few moments before shaking his son's hand firmly, allowing a mountain of unspoken words to gather and disperse before them.

"Goodbye James Potter." And with that, Harry once more headed for the door. He'd almost crossed the threshold before pausing:

"I almost forgot. Happy Birthday!"

10:03PM

After leaving the meeting room, a decidedly pleased Harry Potter crossed the hall and entered the stairwell that led to the Slytherin dungeons, intent on taking a nice hot shower and a quick nap before heading to the Room of Requirement for his meetup with Tori, Penelope, and the Unspeakables. He'd initially thought about letting them know that he also was a time traveler, but had ultimately decided against it.

"Psssst!"

He froze, turning in the direction of the sound.

"Driscoll?" The kingsnake he'd rescued currently occupied the frame of a harp player, who'd fled the frame in a panic. The serpent signaled for Harry to come closer. Casting a quick Revelio to ensure they were alone, Harry once more cast some privacy wards before drawing closer.

"What'sss up? Couldn't wait till I got upssstairsss?" He couldn't help his amusement.

Driscoll waved him off. "Of courssse not, young SSSpeaker. I bring tidingsss from the Hydra Throne. You are sssummoned."

Harry blinked. "Are you sssure?" The Throne's last words to him had felt quite final.

"Yesss! Pleassse, go now!" Harry nodded in surprise and then continued down into the dungeons to once more speak with the great serpents.

10:07PM

Once more crossing the Lair's threshold, Harry bowed respectfully to the Throne. "You requested to see me?" he asked in English.

"Yes, Harry Potter," said Rajah in his rumbling deep voice. "Since you left us, we have spent much time…deliberating…and we have reached a verdict. By a unanimous vote, your request to withdraw your claim to become the Prince of Slytherin is summarily denied."

Harry did a double take. "…Denied?! I don't understand. How can you deny my choice not to become the Prince?"

"The purpose for which the Hydra Throne was created is to judge potential claimants for their worthiness to sit as Prince," the Basilisk continued. "We may find a claimant suitable or unsuitable, but we may not ignore the question of any claimant's worth once our evaluation has begun. Likewise, even if a claimant ultimately refuses to take up the mantle of Prince, that does not relieve us of our obligation to confer it if it is truly deserved."

'This can't be bloody good.'

"Long have I watched you, Harry Potter," said Jormungand, the Exemplar of Diplomacy. "From your earliest days at Hogwarts, you have cultivated not just allies but true friends and from among the unlikeliest candidates - including former enemies. Your skill at politics and diplomacy is unquestioned. I judge you worthy."

"I appreciate your kind words Jormungand but I-"

"I have been thoroughly impressed by your machinations both within and outside the House, Young Claimant." Mara - the Exemplar of Cunning - stared at Harry intensely. "You have successfully hatched schemes that would have overwhelmed a lesser mind whilst keeping yours as keen as a razor's edge, all aimed at defeating your enemies. I judge you worthy."

Harry's panic ratcheted. "What is happening here?" he asked a bit more urgently.

"Your intelligence sets you apart from all of our House, Harry Potter." The posh lilt of Ka - Exemplar of Scholarly Excellence - sounded. "Your standing among your academic peers and your hunger for knowledge more than speaks for itself. I judge you worthy."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Hold on a second!"

"Well, it goes without saying darling that I have always found you a delight!" cooed Delilah, the Exemplar of Charm as she tittered coquettishly. "Naturally, I judge you worthy."

"Well you know I find you a delight too Delilah dear but just listen…." Harry began before the three-headed Runespoor spoke over him.

"You are fluent in the ways and means of the Wizengamot, as befits a future Lord," said Alecto, Megaera, and Tisiphone, the Co-Exemplars of Tradition in three-part harmony. "Your occasional lack of decorum concerns us. Yet we know that you have taken up the highest tradition of Wizarding Britain, opposition to those who would use and misuse That Which Is Forbidden. Despite your tendency towards…frivolity, you have clearly taken your place on the Watchtower and are willing to shoulder all the responsibilities that come with that mantle. We judge you worthy."

"End. Of. The. World. As. We. Know. It! There won't be a Watchtower-"

"I have had my doubts," growled Nidhogg, the Exemplar of Ruthlessness in his impossibly deep voice. "Your refusal to slay the filthy Prewett traitor once he fell under your hand gives me pause, as did your decision to hand him off to the foolish sire whose actions resulted in there being a traitor to begin with. The great Lily Evans you most certainly are not. But…I suppose the true test of Ruthlessness is not what you are willing to do to your enemies, but what you are willing to do to your friends. I have watched as you intentionally allowed your friends to be poisoned by another to keep them from harm, intentionally drugged your mother and your friend to also keep them from harm, and risked the lives of your brother and said foolish sire to suss out your true enemy, breaking your kins wills in turn. I approve and find you worthy."

"PLEASE STOP!" Harry yelled, even as his mind reeled at the knowledge that he'd gained Nidhogg's approval through several recent events that he hadn't a clue that they even knew of!

'Blimey, they really do have eyes everywhere!'

But Rajah - the Exemplar of Ambition - continued relentlessly. "Like Nidhogg, I have had my doubts about you. You are young and have not yet fully articulated any greater vision for yourself or for the world, as one would expect. You have set yourself against the Dark Lord, but it is not enough to be against something. True ambition means to be for that which is infinitely greater than yourself."

Harry could only keep gawking.

"But then, today, you came to us, warned us of the Prophecy you had heard, and disclaimed the role of Prince, a position for which you have worked diligently since the moment you became aware of it. You sacrificed your ambitions for the Greater Good. Not the facile Greater Good of puerile pretenders who mouth those words only as a way to rationalize their own misdeeds. The true Greater Good only comes from the sacrifice of self for the benefit of all. The highest purpose of the Prince of Slytherin is to subordinate one's own goals and desires to the betterment of both this House and this World. And by seeking to withdraw your claim to this office for selfless reasons, you only proved your fitness for it. I find you worthy."

Harry stared at the Throne, dumbfounded. "THE WHOLE WORLD MIGHT BE DESTROYED IF I BECOME PRINCE!"

"We are aware of this," Rajah said casually, as if the matter were a minor inconvenience as he waved off Harry's hysterical yells. "We recommend you make averting this Prophecy and saving the world from whatever imminent destruction an important priority for your administration. The Throne is yours… Prince Harry Potter."

Gaping, Harry jumped as he registered a flash of light as the wards that protected most of the rare books and grimoires lining the shelves from contact suddenly dissolved. That was followed by a loud WHOOSH! as a merrily crackling fire spontaneously started in the fireplace.

A second later, Tweak, the Slytherin house elf, appeared with a soft pop carrying a bucket of Floo powder which he carefully placed next to the fire. The elf then snapped his fingers, and a large slice of double apple pie appeared on the conference table along with a cold butterbeer with a straw already sticking out of the top. For the first time ever, Tweak bowed respectfully at Harry before popping away.

The newly-minted Prince stood slack-jawed for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, he roused himself from his stupor and made his way around the table towards the Throne. Halfway, he stopped in front of the wall of silver Princeps placards identifying his predecessors. A new placard had been added at the end, one bearing the name "Harry Potter." Beneath that was a slightly smaller plaque bearing multiple smaller silver nameplates titled Consiliarii for his Administration.

Still dazed, he continued on around the table before finally plopping down onto the Throne. He looked around the room from this new vantage point before finally speaking his first words as the Prince of Slytherin.

"SSSONOVABITCH!"

10:29PM

For the first time ever since manifesting her lucid dreaming ability, Luna was very nervous.

Scratch that - she was quite terrified.

She'd willfully summoned the dream-selves of the Carrow Twins, intent on dealing with them once and for all. Druscilla - as stubborn as ever - had refused to see a Mind Healer even after being Stunned and all but ordered by Professor Snape to do so. She'd complained about her nightmares getting worse, but the witchling's bullheadedness refused to cave into reason.

Not only that, others had started to complain about having intense nightmares and inexplicable exhaustion that seemed impervious to Dreamless Sleep. Yurika Haneda had recently developed bags under her eyes and her poor nargles bore the same strange narrow bite marks on their necks. The nargles of Hannah Abbott, Wayne Hopkins, Andrew Owly, and poor Toby Lennox also had those strange marks, their nightmares not helped by developing Wolf Fear on that fateful Hallowhain night.

Bracing herself against Pringle the pegasus' mane, Luna stared out at her enemies.

The dream-selves of the Carrows were exactly as their waking form; old-timey collared green dresses and white stockings with matching Mary-Janes, shoulder length brown locks pulled back with snake-themed headbands, and disturbingly blank expressions from their hollow dark eyes. Their hands were clasped as their perfectly synchronized nargles - resembling long-fanged doxies - flew around their heads in a perfect figure-eight pattern.

As if that wasn't disturbing enough, said nargles emitted a most infernal chittering sound that vaguely reminded Luna of the discordant whine her mother had evoked in her Wild Magick ritual.

"You summoned us here," they said as one, though neither's lips moved as their voices - like a physical thing - echoed all around. "Why?"

Luna bit back her shudder. "Because you're hurting people, innocents. Making them relive their worst moments and feeding off them as a result. That's not right."

They tilted their heads as one. "Nightmares sustain us. Nightmares nurture us. Nightmares are that which we are made of."

The blonde bit back another shudder. "I won't stand by and just let you hurt others."

A pregnant pause filled the air as the twins stared at Luna, through her. Their synchronized nargles froze mid-flight to mimic their mistresses' action, obsidian black eyes unblinking.

"Well…if we hurt you, your nightmares will keep us well sustained."

And that terrifying declaration their Blibbering Humdinger materialized, a hideously malformed behemoth that resembled a flayed grindylow with too many sharp fangs, six yellow unblinking eyes, and several tentacles swished about like angry snakes.

All of which were focused on feasting the blonde before them.

Likewise, their nargles turned feral as they leveled their collective attention on Luna's own nargles, fangs dripping at the prospect of devouring the polychromed six-winged dragonfly-like creatures.

Horrified but undeterred, Luna manifested two spears in each hand, unknowingly making them resemble Gáe Buidhe and Gáe Dearg - Spearslayers of the Undead.

Pringle harrumphed as his rider braced herself.

A tentacle slashed through the air in an opening salvo as the doxy-nargles descended on their target in a vicious frenzy.

The battle was on.

"HYA!"

Pringle took off at a gallop, leaping over the rushing tentacles as he spread his wings in flight. Brandishing her spears, the heliopath succeeded in grievously injuring some of the doxy-nargles in a series of shrieks that would have rendered her waking form permanently deaf. A few succeeded in swiping and scratching at her nargles, causing terrible pain to bloom all over her head as she bit back her screams.

Schmooey - her marshmallowy mooncalf-like Blibbering Humdinger - appeared in defense, wrapping around her in a protective cocoon against the ensuing barrage.

The onslaught continued, weaving and dodging past the beast's appendages whilst using her spears to injure the screeching doxy-nargles whose collective shrills had grown more discordant.

From her vantage, the Carrows were starting to take on a distinctly mottled appearance, as though the flesh of their dream-selves were starting to rot and turn to sludge. Their eyes looked to have grown darker as their mouths slowly opened in a silent scream.

Pushing her pegasus closer, Luna knew that to properly defeat the twins, she would need to subdue or destroy the monstrous manifestation of their perverse magic.

She'd just drawn close enough before two great tentacles smashed into Pringle with enough force to dislodge her and send him careening away, his startled neighs echoing through the blonde's dreamscape.

But Luna was ready.

As the impact had sent Luna flying through the direction of the twins' Humdinger, the blonde expertly flung one spear to pierce through its hide, eliciting a scream from it and the Carrows that would have caused anyone else in the waking world to go permanently insane. Using the remainder of her forward momentum of the collision the witchling gracefully somersaulted through the air, eyes widening as she was sent careening down the beast's open gullet.

Steeling her nerves Luna angled her spear downward to strike through the inner-stuff of the shrieking creature. Focusing with all of her might and magic, Luna imbued the spear with every dream and sensation she possessed that was the antithesis of a nightmare.

Swevens of pure, unadulterated joy and happiness from her most precious memories.

The spear glowed white before burning bright gold as it tore through the fundamental essence of the shrieking creature, transforming its core at the magicellular level as all the Twins' astral creatures were rendered into nothingness.

The sound of ear-shattering screams jerked Astoria out of her sleep, ebony wand a blur on instinct. She was taking a little nap before she and Penelope would once more meet up with the Unspeakables in the Room of Requirement. Both had skipped their respective club meetings in order to recoup before the daunting task ahead.

The screams continued on, somehow getting even louder and disturbingly…reedy.

Focusing on the sound, she realized it was coming from the direction of the Carrow Twins room.

Jumping out of bed the witch slowly approached her door, gently prying it open.

She barely registered the rushing footsteps of Selena Harper and Gemma Farley as they blurred past her into the direction of the bedroom, yelling for the girls to open up. The screaming only continued, and in a pique of desperation, Farley cast "BOMBARDA!" at the door and succeeded in blasting it off its hinges before charging in.

"Sweet Hecate above…" Her horror was palpable as Selena paled in complete dread. "SOMEONE GET PROFESSOR SNAPE, NOW!"

At the Same Time…

Auntie Camilla's gruesome screams echoed throughout the hallowed halls of Cauchemar Abbey. So poignant was the sound that it caused Adramelech to freeze whilst skinning a freshly caught unicorn - still breathing. The burning tingle of its ill-gotten silvery blood raced over his soaked hands and seemingly crawled up his spine.

It made him feel giddy.

The screams increased in volume, a clear sign of the harridan's distress. Focusing on the horrendous sound, he softly disapparated with a soundless pop.

"Sister?"

The hideous old crone was having a right fit, tossing and turning in her bed as she continued her screams.

Mismatched orbs widening, Lord Selwyn pressed his palm against her head, hissing at how unnaturally warm she felt as her forehead pulsed.

That shouldn't have been possible as her heart hadn't beat since 1703.

Applying more pressure, he forged a mental connection and hissed at the utterly repulsive sensations flooding through the witch's mind.

The brisk scent of the air after a spring rain.

The uplifting melody of Whistling Bluebells on a particularly windy day.

The warm squelch of earth and grass in the hearth of a beautiful life-filled forest.

The sweet and lightly tangy taste of freshly made dirigible plum jam.

The ebb and flow of laugh-filled chatter surrounding one like a warm blanket.

The wondrous sight of a star-filled sky framed by the cool blue light of the moon.

The sense of warmth and safety ensconced in the loving embrace of a best friend.

The gentle yet reassuring hand of a beloved parent as it guided their child through a busy street.

Focusing past all of those grotesque and unsettling sensations, Grandfather mentally commanded the harpy to "Calm at once!", causing her yells to finally simmer down to pitiful whimpers.

"Flesh of my flesh…blood of my blood…nightmare of my nightmares… What has happened to you? Flesh of my flesh…blood of my blood…nightmare of my nightmares… What has happened to you?" She repeated the nonsensical mantra several times, blubbering incoherently.

Growing tired of her nattering, a wandless command saw her finally slacken though her skin still felt much too warm and human.

"Gomez!"

An almost inaudible pop sounded in the room as his impeccably well-dressed valet elf popped in, adorned in a sleek midnight black three-piece suit.

"Take her to the…Submergence Pool. Keep watch until I summon you."

"It will be done Master." WIth a reverent bow Gomez snapped himself and the witch away to do his Lord's bidding.

"I'll have to reschedule my hunt to tend to this…fiasco." Lord Selwyn sniffed disdainfully.

"Well..at the very least…the meat won't go to waste." Muggle livers made for a particularly rich tartare, not to mention all of the delightful sangreoni!

AN 1: Well, it seems all's well that ends well...for now ***maniacal laugh***. Apologies for the lateness, spent the Thanksgiving holiday traveling and enjoying some time with my family :)

AN 2: Hopefully no more Carrow twins for the foreseeable future, least of all in Hogwarts. Hope you liked theirs and Luna's confrontation.

AN 3: As mentioned in Book 2, the role of Adramelech Selwyn is played by Charles Dance (Dracula Untold & Underworld: Blood Wars; essentially mixing these two characters together)