**Possible Trigger Warning, Reader Discretion is strongly advised**

CHAPTER 30

10:48PM

The ringing was all Harry could hear.

In fact, it was well beyond ringing at this point. The mental sound had grown into an ever-crescendoing roaring that filled the entirety of his mind, filling the fractures along his shields as he fought to accept what had happened.

'Mum is dead, she's gone.'

He couldn't comprehend the tears pouring down his face, numb to any other sensation other than devastating grief.

The fractures continued their psychic spread, his well-organized mind devolving into a maelstrom of soul-crushing emotions. His heart was well beyond broken, like jagged shards of glass piercing through his chest cavity.

'Mum is dead, she's gone.'

He didn't realize he'd staggered to his feet, standing upright and staring upwards at the night sky as the mental mantra continued to sound in his head, like an alarm that he couldn't shut off. He vaguely comprehended the Dementor horde swirling above, a handful screeching rebuffed by the Ligeia and Ironside.

But it wasn't enough as the swarm grew larger, as though multiplying in jubilation at the waves of sorrow and anguish emanating from the Potter Twins below. Jim couldn't hold back his wracking sobs as he clutched the lifeless form of his mother against his body, beseeching any deity he could think of to bring her back. His tears mixed with her blood, salt meeting copper to whet the blood-soaked ground below.

'Mum is dead, she's gone.'

All that he loved had been taken from him. The psychic fractures of his mind strengthened, unable to hold back the barrage of his turbulent emotions.

'Mum is dead, she's gone.'

Rage, the great and terrible beast Harry kept chained in the deepest confines of his mind roared to life in exuberance, a leviathan of the very worst of the younger Potter when those he loved and cherished were endangered.

'Mum is dead, she's gone.'

His eldritch green eyes dropped from the skies to land on Theo's lifeless form, cradled against a shaking and sweating Eurus as she fought with all that she had to maintain her corporeal Fwooper. She was starting to flag, and it wouldn't be long before she lost her battle. Marcus was on a similar boat, having finally succeeded in incapacitating Janos into unconsciousness. Ironside bumrushed the Dementors to break their formation, but Marcus was already on his knees as his wand shook with the effort to maintain his Patronus. A small trickle of blood fell from his left nostril, indicative that he wasn't long

'Mum is dead, she's gone.'

The dam broke.

Rage won.

Harry's skull pounded in pain as all-consuming wrath rushed to fill the cracks in his splintering mind. His scar became more pronounced, darkening in stark relief against his pale skin and beginning to throb in tandem with his mental agony.

The last moment of his mother's life played on a loop in his mind, interspersed with the horrifying moments of Theo and Miranda's respective murders.

Rage intensified, forcing his skull to go thump-thump-thump. He didn't realize he was screaming at the top of his lungs, the sound primal and terrifying. He didn't register his brother jerk in surprise and shock, emerald eyes widening at the sight and sound before him

Rage poured itself into the splinters of his mind, adhering the mental shards into a grotesque facsimile of what it'd been before. Holly began vibrating in his vice-grip, thrumming with dark anticipation for its master's next act.

Harry's scream grew stronger in volume, alarming his increasingly horrified twin and friends as they witnessed his glowing Avada-green irises cover the entirety of each eyeball, no pupil in sight. The volume of his screams grew louder, causing matching shudders of fear to crawl down all their collective backs.

The Dementors halted in their descent as their hive mind registered something in the young wizard's voice…the very thing which had given Mr. Arachne fearful pause.

…Something Ancient-and-Dangerous-and-Wrathful…

And whatever it was, it would no longer be contained.

At the same time, all registered a faint discordant whine building all around them, the herald of something Great-and-Terrible to be unleashed upon them all.

Eurus whimpered and clutched Theo closer to her shivering form, retreating behind the cover of a Patronus mist-shield. Marcus mimicked her whilst scampering behind the cover of a tree, like a panicked and terrified child feebly fleeing from a monster. Jim could only continue his gawking, ignoring the pulse-pounding pain in his own scar as he choked back his horror at the sight of his brother.

'Mum is dead, she's gone.' 'Theo is dead, he's gone.' 'Miranda is dead, she's gone.'

'And it's all my fault.'

And in that moment of absolute grief, Harry Potter learned how to hate completely and without any restraint.

And then he imagined how wonderful it would be to simply let the world burn with him in it.

There was only one spell Harry knew to cast that would soothe the terrible gaping wounds in the broken remnants of his mind and heart.

Holly whirled in a circle above his head as he desperately bellowed "FIENDFYRE!"

There was the briefest impression of a portal opening elsewhere…

…To a realm of Fyre-and-Chaos-and-Hunger…

Before hellfire poured forth.

Incoherent screams of fury and terror echoed in joyous jubilation at the chance to feed and burn in reckless abandon.

From the great miasma of roiling sentient flames, a unique shape took form. All watched nine ubiquitous serpents coalesce; a mighty basilisk, an imposing python, a towering cobra, a fearsome krait, an menacing ashwinder, a colossal boomslang, and a gigantic runespoor.

The two remaining Slytherins gawked at the subconscious invocation of the Hydra, eyes widening in frightened amazement.

Altogether the nine-headed daemonic goliath unleashed a bellow of rage and lunged after every soul and anti-soul before it.

Such was the nature of the Wyld Inferno summoned from the Muspel Yonder of the Dark Wild.

"HARRY!" screamed Jim in abject fear, eyes blown wide in terror at the sight of the fiery Hydra consuming the screeching Dementors whole. Some attempted to retreat, but it was utterly futile as the flames feasted to their hearts' content. Tattered pieces of the wraiths' cloaks rained down on them like ashen snow.

"HARRY PLEASE, STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL US ALL!"

His brother didn't hear him, staring blankly ahead with his disturbingly pupil-less Avada-green gaze, lips pulled in a broken imitation of a smile. He also didn't hear his friends screaming bloody agony as tendrils of the flames buffeted against their Patronus shields, intent on consuming them as well.

They wouldn't hold for long.

Unwilling to let go of Lily's form, Jim reached out with his wand arm and gripped Harry's own, screaming at the mental turmoil of his younger brother's emotions that crashed against his mind. He felt his scar begin to throb in earnest, a skull-pounding staccato that threatened to split his head in two.

Using his touch as an anchor Jim focused on his brother with all the mental strength he possessed, jolting at feeling his brother's mind sync with his own. The only thing he could perceive was a great and terrible beast rampaging without abandon, delighted in the opportunity to cause destruction.

'Harry.'

Jim was startled at the tenderness of his own mental voice, full of such compassion that he could feel his twin physically and mentally recoil.

'Please stop. Please. You'll kill yourself.'

'I don't deserve to live. Not without her. Not without them.'

Jim flinched at how defeated Harry sounded, so unlike the brother he knew. The images of his mother, Theo, and Miranda's final moments flashed in Jim's eye, accompanied by poignant feelings of grief and self-loathing. He instinctively knew that attempting to convince Harry that it wasn't his fault would expedite their demise.

Ignoring the diabolical screams of the Fiendfyre mingling with the accursed screeching of the Dementors mingling with the distressed cries of Eurus and Marcus, Jim played the only card he had.

'You have to stop brother. Because…if you don't…there'll be nothing left of mum for us to bury. She'll be gone forever. And we'll never get her back.'

It took several seconds of Jim repeating the same phrase over and over again. It took several agonizing seconds of mental and physical pain that bloomed across his scar.

Neither he nor his brother saw their respective scars darken blood-red as they pulsed in tandem with each other, Sowilo connected with Kenaz.

Or rather, Sohlwido reunited with Kehlnazol - two who would be as one.

Jim repeated the mantra for what felt like an eternity, hearing Harry's desperate screams as he fought to regain control of the flames and rebind the beast of Rage.

"That'sss enough," hissed Harry with great strain. "It'sss…time…to go back…whenccce…you'd…come!"

A beat passed as the Hydra-form Fiendfyre roared in a fury…

Before the same portal opened and sucked them away with a loud WHOOSH!.

Harry staggered to his knees, choking in a strangled breath whilst clutching Jim as a lifeline. He turned to express his gratitude towards his elder twin, but unfortunately his eyes chose that exact moment to roll to the back of his head, turning Harry's world black.

Hospital Wing, 12:11AM

Slowly blinking awake Neville came to, nose wrinkling at the pervasive scent of analgesic that filled his nostrils. The Longbottom heir loathed the Infirmary, too reminiscent of all the time he spent with his parents in the Janus Thickey ward.

'But it was necessary.'

His Heir's ring thrummed in seeming agreement. While he'd been initially nervous about following through with the others' plan, their logic had ultimately been infallible. The Outcast posed a grave and imminent danger to their lives, and his continued presence at Hogwarts would be their penultimate ruin. He'd done what was necessary and right, and once the Outcast was gone, things would right themselves again. He'd make sure of it.

He suddenly registered an odd sound.

It was muffled, as if the person were covering their mouth in an attempt to self-soothe.

It clearly wasn't working as the sobbing got louder.

Pushing himself to a sitting position, Neville froze at the sight before him.

The beds positioned in the wall facing his bore seven figures that made the Gryffindor's pale green eyes widen in shock.

The leftmost beds near the entrance held the unconscious Potter twins. They looked like they'd been through hell and back, resting from their ordeal in a healing coma.

'What the hell is going on?!'

Flanking Harry's bed was Marcus' unconscious form, entire body ensconced in a shimmering gold All-Healing Orb. His wand-arm was singed raw, as though the flesh had been flayed from his body. Neighboring him was Eurus, whose dark complexion looked uncommonly gray. Her expression looked pinched as though she were having a bad dream.

Laying next to her were two figures Neville would have never expected to see, eyes widening at the sight.

The deceased forms of Lily Evans and Theo No-Name.

Their faces were perfectly peaceful, eyes closed as though they were merely sleeping. Their bodies were cocooned in clean white robes, arms crossed in an 'X'. A sprig of ivy had been placed in-between their crossed arms, as a token of good luck on their journey to the afterlife.

And standing above them was the source of the sobbing - Hermione Granger.

The poor girl looked awful as she wept, clutching the arms of the deceased like a lifeline. Her robes were crumpled, a sign that she'd spent almost all of her time in the Infirmary. Her hair was a fright, riotous curls all frazzled and disheveled as though she'd attempted to tear it out. Her face was red and splotchy, snot running down a ruddy nose as swollen eyes continued to make tears.

"Mione?!"

She stiffened at the sound of her name.

"Merlin's beard, what happened?!"

With great effort the witch got control of her sobbing, whittling it down to sniffling hiccups. Slowly, she turned around to address Neville. Heir Longbottom flinched at the look of utter contempt directed towards him, unused to ever seeing such an expression on his best friend's face.

"What you always wanted, Heir Longbottom." He flinched at the use of his title, feeling his chest beginning to painfully constrict. "Earlier this night Harry and his family were kidnapped by Obediah Prewett, who turned out to be a Death Eater."

The boy goggled.

"He Imperiused Miranda Bonnevie to lure Harry to the Shack, but not before using some elaborate trap to kidnap Lily, Jim, and James. He then murdered Miranda for good measure. Theo was with Lily, thank Merlin he survived that attack." Neville looked horrified, jaw dropping.

"Hermione I-"

"But then come to find out, Theo's not really in the clear. Because the idiot boy whose life he helped save during their first year hatched some elaborate scheme with his bigoted prat friends to frame Theo for something he never even did!"

"Hermione, please I-"

"Willingly poisoned each other all to get rid of a boy whose only crime was being born to a cruel and hateful father. Bet you weren't thinking of your other friends either, since poor Draco and Ginny nearly died because of the stunt you helped pull with those Skiving Snackboxes." She sneered viciously for good measure, startling Neville who'd never seen her make such a face.

"But the same boy you've spent all year wrongfully hating and making his life miserable for no reason ventured out with Eurus and Marcus to help save Harry and his family's lives, because that's the kind of person he was!" Hermione choked back a sob, furiously wiping at her eyes whilst Neville could only gape.

"And what does he get?! Torn to pieces by a bloody WEREWOLF!" Neville choked back his bile, eyes widening in horror at the weight of Hermione's statement.

"He died saving his best friend's life, which is more than I can ever say for the likes of you."

"Hermione I had no-"

"Save it!" snarled the witch. "We are no longer friends, Heir Longbottom. Do not speak to me, do not approach me, don't even bother acknowledging me." Her eyes narrowed to slits. "You're officially dead to me."

And at that vicious statement Hermione whirled around and stormed out of the Infirmary, leaving a tearful and stricken Neville in her wake.

From her position feigning sleep, a pale and horrified Cho Chang clutched desperately at her pillow, fighting to keep back her tears.

'What the hell have I done?!'

1:57AM

A sharp gasp signaled Harry Potter's return to consciousness. Nose wrinkling at the scent of analgesic he sat upright in his bed, eyes adjusting to the bright light.

He turned towards the sleeping form of his brother, Jim heavily breathing in a deep sleep. Harry's eyes crinkled in uncharacteristic warmth towards the older boy, inordinately pleased to see him alive and grateful for his help in saving him.

Marcus and Eurus caught his attention, grateful that they'd survived his Fiendfyre onslaught. He flinched at the sight of Marcus' ruined arm, guilt bubbling in his chest.

Emerald eyes shifted to the forms of his mother and Theo, heart clenching painfully at the sight as he fought back the wave of tears that threatened to spring. His eyes wandered over to the room's remaining occupants, startled to see so many of P.A.C. His eyes narrowed at seeing a paler-than-normal Ginny and Draco, each face ensconced within a shimmering silver orb whilst they slept.

Even more startling was seeing an equally unconscious Severus, entire body covered in a shimmering All-Healing Orb.

'What the hell happened here?!'

The moment was fortuitously ruined by Marcellus Frump, who strode out of Madam Pomfrey's back office bearing a tray full of healing potions. His turtle Clyde was balanced on his shoulders, sporting a bright red knitted cozy in sharp contrast to Frumps' own well-worn slate gray suit.

"Ah, Mr. Potter! Good to see you awake."

"Um…pardon me, but…what are you doing here?"

Frump smiled magnanimously.

"Covering for Madam Pomfrey whilst she attends to family matters in Ilkley. I shadow her during her evening shifts and weekend duties, it's always my pleasure." His expression darkened significantly. "There was a Death Eater attack this evening, Messrs. Justinian and Tyrfing. Significant civilian casualties." Harry's eyes goggled, at once recalling Obediah's ominous statement regarding cabals, murder plots, and other such sinister things.

"The Lance and the Bane of the Dark Lord's enemies…I can only imagine."

"Indeed Mr. Potter."

Setting down the potions, Frump unholstered his wand and cast a multitude of charms over the boy's form, making note of his results on a patient's chart that floated alongside him.

"Can you tell me how my brother and I got here?"

The Caretaker's lips thinned. "The Aurors. Professor Scrimgeour was called away by Madam Bones to assist with the Ilkley Crisis. Though he's technically not allowed on active duty on account of his injury, he's still a seasoned battle strategist. Anywho, Head Boy Weasley convinced Professor McGonagall to summon Auror assistance, utilizing 'the school career fair' loophole to allow an invading military force onto the castle grounds. Scrimgeour, alongside Aurors Eliza Robins and Stuart Stebbins, arrived and ventured into the Forest at Miss Lovegood's insistence."

His expression turned intense.

"They didn't have to look far, led directly to your group by a blazing inferno of Fiendfyre."

Harry flinched imperceptibly. "Imagine that."

Frump blinked a few times before continuing. "Mr. Flint suffered severe third-degree burns from brief exposure to the flames."

Harry winced.

"Once the bone repairs, I will attempt a skin-graft procedure to heal the damaged flesh. Miss Kolumbiko was magically exhausted and dehydrated, as were you and your brother. You will all be on the mend soon enough."

Marcellus' expression softened, eyes shining with a level of care and compassion Harry would have never believed the usually-surly man to be capable of.

"You have my sincerest condolences regarding your mother and Mr. Theo. Loss of that magnitude…" He drifted off as his eyes closed, startling Harry at the gravitas of his tone.

'Frump's lost someone too…'

At that realization, he nodded gratefully at the man. "Thank you Mr. Frump, I…I appreciate your kindness more than you know."

A soft smile graced the man's face before it was gone in a flash.

"Your potions," he pointed to the small tray beside him. "Dreamless Sleep for full rest and recovery, Vitamix and Pepper-up for when you awaken. I would recommend taking the full dose of Dreamless to allow your core the opportunity for a complete renewal. You are currently at around half-level. Additionally…per my scans…I would recommend that you visit a trustworthy Mind Healer, sooner rather than later. Good day Mr. Potter."

Not waiting for a response the man turned on his heel, leaving Harry with his tumultuous thoughts.

Taking a deep breath he sank into an Occludic meditative state, assessing the damage to his shields and mindscape.

It was bad.

There were definite cracks in his protective shields, fissures that would take intensive hours of therapeutic mind healing techniques to correct.

'Tom and Severus will be glad to hear that.'

And then he flinched at the prospect of revealing his mother's death to her brother-in-all-but-blood and the man who'd been more of a father to her than the one who'd birthed her.

Sighing, Harry reached over for his Dreamless Sleep before freezing, registering the sound of heavy footsteps.

It was James, looking more worn-down and weary than Harry would ever thought possible. His left knee was bandaged along with his right arm, the latter in a sling for extra support. Several healed scratch marks covered his face.

But none of that compared to the expression of exhausted defeat that clouded his face. Hazel eyes flickered over to where Lily lay, a look of complete heartbreak marring his features.

"Oh Lily-flower…" The latent guilt he felt for cursing her bubbled in his chest, making him feel physically ill.

Harry couldn't help the snarl that escaped his mouth, startling the older man out of his reverie.

"What the hell do you want?"

Ignoring the rude tone, James simply replied:

"We need to talk."

His son froze, Legilimency sensing…something in the older man's tone that gave him immediate pause. A certain desperate gravitas that suddenly made Harry pause.

A few beats passed uncomfortably, before Harry nodded in assent.

Reattaching his wand holster, Harry wrapped an extra blanket around his body before following his father to their intended destination.

From her position in an alcove near the Hospital Wing's entrance, a flawlessly Disillusioned (and Silenced and Scent-Dampened) Cher Ami followed behind the two Potters, needing to sequester Harry sooner rather than later.

Abandoned Classroom - Third Floor Corridor, 2:23AM

Slowly entering the meeting room, Harry worked to school his expression into one of indifference as he studied the classroom, making note of all viable access and exit points. There were no portraits here, and 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. The man's hazel eyes looked even more deadened in the harsh light of the classroom, face pulled tightly in a weariness that was far beyond what a man his age should have ever looked.

"So," said Harry quietly. "What's all this fuss about?"

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.

Harry felt his hackles rise on instinct. 'This cannot be good.'

"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.

"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.

'This had better be bloody worth it or I'm jinxing him to high hell!'

Raising his wand, Harry repeated the words of the Potter Oath as James provided for him.

"I, Hadrian Remus Potter, make this Oath on my magic and on my soul. That from this moment forward until the day I die, I will keep the Secret of House Potter in my heart and share it with no outsiders. Let Magic itself bind my tongue against revelation both deliberate and unintentional save when speaking to those who are already witness to the Secret. Let the Secret preserve itself not just against my betrayal but also my indiscretion. So mote it be."

As he uttered the last word, Harry felt tendrils of magic wriggle into his body from somewhere else and come to rest encircling his heart, his tongue, and the back of his head, and he knew that he was bound from that moment until the day he died.

It was an unusual oath, and apparently one custom-designed for House Potter exclusively for the preservation of this family secret. It didn't punish Harry for revealing the Secret. It made him physically incapable of doing so. No Legilimens would ever be able to find it in his mind, and if he tried to discuss any part of the Secret with someone who didn't already know it, then he would literally be unable to form the words. Indeed, he would find himself unable to speak about the Secret even with another sworn Potter if someone else was eavesdropping, even if Harry didn't know the eavesdropper was there.

"Alright, I've sworn it," Harry said with more magnanimity than he was feeling. "Go on."

And with a laboring breath, his father 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 and just generally make mine and my mother's life miserable." He sneered at his father. "I'm lucky mum left you and took me with her. Circe only knows what fresh hell you would have put it through because of your cowardice. Though I imagine sending me to live with her magic-hating religious nutter sister when you thought me to be a squib would be the least of my worries." His father looked stricken at that statement, horrified that Lily had told him about that.

"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 being a (Claimant) Prince of Slytherin. "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."

The conviction in his tone made Harry clutch his wand defensively. A strange thought popped in his mind.

"Did you ever tell mum about this?"

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

Harry could have screamed at the 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. "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-"

"Oh spare me! You're a grown man with access to Occlumency, it's about time you bloody well acted like it!"

The older wizard flinched like a chastened child but otherwise didn't respond.

"So," whispered Harry after a few tense moments. "What do you plan to do?"

His father closed his eyes and didn't speak for a few moments.

"What needs to be done."

Harry didn't like the tone of that.

"It's been brought to my attention that I have been sorely lacking in my duties to my House." He smiled brokenly. "I'll be able to confirm once Gringotts opens in the morning, but I do not doubt that Obediah has betrayed and bamboozled me in the manner he suggested earlier in the Shack. And to add insult to injury, he made off with my wand."

James could have screamed at the irony.

"I cannot stand by and allow my House to become a tool for an egomaniacal Death Eater traitor. Just as I cannot stand by and allow a world-ending prophecy to come to pass under the helm of my House. Too much has been lost already." The memory of goring a screaming Moony's heart flashed in his mind's eye, causing him to look away in shame. "There can be no destruction brought forth by any member of House Potter if House Potter ceases to exist." His face morphed into one of steely resolve.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dread crawled along Harry's spine.

"It means that I am the last living Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. And I will make sure there will be no other Lord Potter after me. Through the power vested in me, I shall bring forth the Sanctumen Ultimo against House Potter."

His son's eyes widened in outrage. "You'd turn me into an Outcast?! After everything that happened with Theo?!" Holly had started thrumming in time with its master's flaring magic, just as his eyes began glowing Avada-green.

He peripherally felt his scar start throbbing.

James desperately shook his head in the negative.

"No Harry," he replied woodenly. "The Sanctumen Ultimo as you know it - as Tiberius Nott used it - is a ratified version of an original spell. Said version was agreed upon in the Inheritance Act of 1588 to fit the needs of that particular legislation. The original spell - now redacted - was created by the original 17 Roman families that invaded Britannia seeking refuge from the Fall of Rome." Harry's brow quirked at how…insightful his father sounded.

Contrary to Obediah's belief, Lord Potter wasn't completely ignorant to the workings of his House. Henry Potter, the premier chatty patty of Lords Potter past and almost thirty-year veteran Office Head of the Department of International Magical Co-Operation had spent countless hours sharing the myriad of knowledge he knew about the Wizengamot and Wizarding history.

And it was a lot.

"Has any other House ever used this spell?"

"Yes," replied James woodenly. "Five times in written history, details of which are contained in very rare and mostly banned history books." He took a deep breath before retrieving a small silver dagger from his robe, gingerly shrugging out of his sling.

"What the hell is that for?!"

Hazel eyes flashed in frightful resolution.

"For what needs to be done. I am Lord Potter, the last of my name. It all ends with me, this prophecy cannot be allowed to come true. Too much…too much has already come to pass. House Potter will cease to exist, and this spell will render anyone born of Potter blood 'no-name'. A prophecy connected to a House that no longer exists cannot come true." And with that he slashed his palms with the dagger, spilling his blood down his palms before he began chanting in a ragged voice:

"Sicut ego volo, ita fiat,"

Harry's senses flared in absolute panic as the memory of Pandora Lovegood invoking the magicks of the Wild flashed through his mind's eye.

"Stop it, stop it right now!"

"Sicut ego volo, ita fiat,"

"That's enough father, end this now!"

"Sicut ego volo, ita fiat."

"I SAID STOP!"

"Obsecro Azath-"

"SsSILENCcCIO!"

So powerful was the Parsel-enhanced spell that it thrust a startled James out of his seat while causing his mouth to turn inward and seal completely. The man's eyes were wide, both at the spell's effects and realizing that like his ex-wife and Heir, his youngest was also a Parselmouth.

"INCARCEROUSsS." Thick serpentine ropes curled around James' form, rendering him completely immobile and at Harry's mercy.

The déjà vu was dizzying.

"Have you lost the bloody plot?! Do you have any idea what you're invoking?!" He snarled and pressed his wand deeper into his father's neck, causing the man's eyes to widen with genuine fear.

"You would forsake everything, ruin everything for the sons who just…who just lost their mother…all for some ridiculous prophecy that hasn't even come true?! Are you mad?!"

His father's desperate retort was unheard as he was unable to form the words.

"We'd be pariahs. We'd be exiled from wizarding society. We'd have less than nothing." Harry's eyes began glowing Avada-green before jabbing his wand under his father's neck, tip glowing red.

"I can't…I won't let that happen." A frisson of pure fear and dread crawled up the elder Potter's spine as he saw his life flash before his eyes.

BANG!

Father and son jumped at the sound of the door bursting open to reveal a rather impatient-looking Cher Ami.

"Penelope?!" exclaimed Harry as James' internally gawked. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"No time to explain. STUPEFY!" Harry jumped back at the red bolt of light, watching his father slump over completely unconscious.

"What the hell?!"

"We need to go Potter, right now."

Harry's form tightened defensively. "Why the hell should I go anywhere with you?"

"Because I've spent the past half hour hiding in a rather dusty alcove across this room waiting for you two to be done. But more importantly, I have a way for you to save everyone but not if you keep dawdling here. We need to go, please. Just trust me." Harry stared in her imploring gaze for a few beats before nodding, following the Head Girl to his fate.

The Room of Requirement, 2:59AM

Gazing suspiciously in Penelope's direction, Harry took a deep breath before opening the door to the Come-and-Go Room and crossing the threshold…

Before freezing at the sight of Lady Witherington fiddling over a very strange-looking box.

And the unconscious forms of Saul Croaker and a nondescript witch caught in a glimmering magical net.

"Tori?! What in Circe's name are you doing here?! And what is the Voice of the Unspeakables doing here?! Unconscious?!"

The younger Greengrass sister turned towards him, granting him a beaming smile.

"Hello Harry, glad to see you could finally make it! Regarding those two, you can thank Penelope for that. Wanted to make sure they wouldn't interfere; apparently they can initiate 'offensive tactical measures' should the Cryptohedron be…intercepted. Wouldn't want that. Now give me a mo', I need all my concentration to make sure I don't fudge these formulas here. Penelope worked quite hard on them."

She continued fidgeting about with the strange object, which Harry realized resembled the sets of Rubik's Snakes Lily kept in her personal study in the Keep.

Upon closer inspection it looked even more complex than a standard Rubik's Snake. It possessed several moving parts shaped into a myriad of triangles that could be spun and rotated into an extensive array of other geometric shapes. The exterior sides were coated in what looked to be a strange silvery gold alloy, like mithril and orichalcum but not quite. Its interior sections were obsidian black but with arrays of tiny silver knobs and dials on each section.

Even more fascinating were the gold illustrations which resembled glimmering constellations. It was altogether so unusual and fascinating that it successfully distracted Harry from the fact that two Hogwarts students had succeeded in incapacitating high-ranking members of the Department of Mysteries!

Taking advantage, Penelope closed the Room's door, pleased to hear the tell-tale click of it locking securely. It was one of the things the Room always did to help make her and her partner feel secure.

Grumbling under her breath, Astoria rotated different sections of the strange puzzle box into new shapes, leaning back to analyze her work before spinning around more knobs and wheels. She continued her ministrations for a few more seconds before loudly proclaiming "Aha!"

That was followed by her retrieving a slip of parchment from her robes' pocket, eyes narrowed as she read through. Drawing closer to see what she was doing, Harry's brows raised at the info on the paper.

"Is that my natal chart?"

The witchling smiled brightly. "Yes it is! Nicked it from Tracey a few month's back. Remember last November when she was doing everyone's charts in the Common Room for Divination?" Harry nodded slowly in recollection.

"Are you sure your birth time was 11:52PM on 31 July 1980 in Godric's Hollow, West Country, England?"

"Um…from what I've been told, yes."

She nodded before unholstering her wand to point it at the paper, softly incanting "ASTROLOGIA ANIMA".

With wide eyes Harry watched the spell-version copy of his natal chart lift off the page, several glimmering stars twinkling with an almost alien beauty. With expert precision she guided the animation to the puzzle box, releasing it with a deft flick of her wrist. They all watched the constellations settle into their corresponding grooves in the strange box, causing all of its knobs and wheels to begin spinning on their own. It continued for some seconds, making Harry nervous.

Suddenly, two large pieces of the puzzle box from opposite sides and the different sections of the box suddenly slipped into place together neatly to form a perfect cube spinning exactly 180 degrees before coming to a stop. He looked down at it and noticed that on the top where the different sections had come together there was a small circular piece right in the middle that was a slightly different color than the rest of the puzzle.

Almost as if it were a button to be pressed.

A quick Tempus from Penelope showed the time. "3:10AM. Perfect, we're right on schedule. 23 minutes before it activates."

"Alright, I've been patient long enough!" Harry looked keenly exasperated. "What is going on here? What is that thing? And why did you two…mug the Unspeakables to get it?!"

Exchanging a tense glance, Astoria and Penelope took a collective deep breath before launching into their harrowing tale.

Exactly Seven Hours Ago (Past Timeline)...

Astoria wasn't really sure whose grip was tighter, hers or Greg Jr.'s.

Both watched with blank expressions as a screaming and bloodied Katie Bell was dragged through the Entry Hallway and out the castle doors by a Ministerial High Inquisitor Squad led by Cecil Lee. The former Leader for the Werewolf Capture Unit possessed a keen ruthlessness and hatred for muggles and muggleborns that captured the attention of High Inquisitor Corban Yaxley, pleased to see such spirit in the halfblood.

Anyone else would call it overcompensation.

'Why did you come out Bell, why?! You should have stayed hidden, we were going to have you out by tonight!' Though the desperate words raged around in the younger Greengrass' mind, she didn't dare utter them out loud, gripping Greg's hand that much tighter.

Ever since the advent of The Muggleborn Reappropriation Act, anyone deemed or discovered to have 'dirty blood' was collateral. Newly-minted Minister of Magic Merihem Selwyn had mandated the creation of what he called 'rehabilitation camps', meant to properly train and reassign muggleborns to their 'rightful place' in proper wizarding society.

So few survived the horrific physical, mental, and emotional torture wrought upon them in those death camps, mere objects to satisfy the whims of violent and hateful barbarians like Greg Goyle Sr., Tiberius Nott, Cecil Lee, Walden McNair, and scores of others that set Astoria's teeth on edge.

By some great miracle Dumbledore and McGonagall had created a refuge for a handful of muggleborns they could rescue before the Patrol Raids had begun in earnest, hiding them away in the Room of Requirement before ferrying them away to safehouses outside the country. Said Room possessed several hidden passageways hidden behind the portraits, used as hidden paths to ferry those who were rescued from the Patrol Raids by a group of turncoat Aurors led by Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-Eye Moody, working alongside Dumbledore's vigilante Order of the Phoenix.

Hermione Granger and her parents had been one of the lucky few, successfully emigrating to the States.

But then Professor McGonagall (and Sprout and Flitwick and almost a sixth of the student body) had ended up Kissed when Amycus and Alecto Carrow - under Minister Merihem's orders - had infiltrated Hogwarts along with a horde of Dementors. Dumbledore had been ousted as Headmaster, Chief Warlock, and Supreme Mugwump, having to hide in the shadows with the rest of his Order.

Katie's screams were still echoing, though they were starting to fade as the entrance doors slowly closed. Astoria was grateful for Greg's reassuring presence. He'd changed quite a lot since Amy Wilkes'...disappearance in the previous June, the two becoming closer in the wake of their respective personal tragedies.

The previous month's The Prophet had announced that Tiberius Nott had become the Regent for House Wilkes, boasting a legitimate Heir shared between him and the last-living Wilkes - Wallace Tiberius Wilkes.

The implication was more than clear.

A flash of movement caught her eye, grinding her teeth as they landed on Cedric Diggory. The Hufflepuff was pale at what he'd just witnessed, ignoring Cho's attempt to chat him up whilst wrapped around him like an eel.

To Astoria's initial surprise Amos Diggory had been appointed the Head of the newly-created Muggleborn Supervision Department, managing the operational responsibility for tracking and redistributing the captured muggleborns into the appropriate camps.

Amos was responsible for the capture and public execution of the Finch-Fletchleys, the latter made possible by the discovery of his ancestral connection to two prominent Noble Houses. It was to send a very clear message that mudbloods regardless of status would never be on par with proper pureblood society.

Amos was responsible for the Creevey brothers getting kidnapped and brutally experimented upon, images of their brutalized cadavers used by the High Inquisitor in his 'anatomy classes' in the upgraded Muggle Studies class.

With a rattling bang the entry doors finally shut, before Giles and Albert Yaxley dismissed the crowd back to their Common Rooms. Though he wore an expression of cruel delight, Albert had (secretly) been providing rare potions and potions ingredients to the muggleborn refugees, hidden under the pseudonym 'Siwa'. Serving as his courier, Hannah Abbott utilized his offerings to help maintain a decent supply of healing and potions and remedies. The witch had no clue who he was and how he was able to pull off all he did, but she was grateful nonetheless.

For the younger Yaxley, the recent events had been exceptionally sobering. It was one thing to be told since birth of one's innate superiority due to blood status and accepting that mantra as fact.

It was another thing to witness the abhorrent cruelty that the so-called superiors inflicted against their perceived inferiors - small children included. The image of Anthony Goldstein and Sue Li's brutalized remains burned in his mind, the latter of which his own brother had helped cause.

A tight-faced Percy Weasley and Selena Harper helped usher the younger years back into the Great Hall to finish their supper.

The sound of noxious giggling filled the Second Year's ears, eyes darting over to the source. Gathering around Cho were other members of the 'Pureblooded Pack', most notably Marietta Edgecombe, Druscilla Crabbe, Millicent Bulstrode, Lavender Brown, and…Daphne. While the latter was the defacto leader due to her status as the Heir of an Ancient and Noble House, Cho still tried to pretend as though they were on par. Millicent at least had the decency to look discomfited, though that wasn't really all that reassuring. House Bulstrode was hoping for a Vassalship from House Greengrass, and it looked like the youngest Bulstrode would be doing her part to ensure success.

The sisters caught each other's gaze, before quietly looking away. Though they always maintained a united front, the gulf that existed between them since Tracey's death seemed to grow bigger every day. Daphne had become a cold and callous shell of herself, sinking into the depths of the stereotypical pureblood princess everyone believed her to be as a consequence of her aloof shyness.

Their sister-in-all-but blood had been kidnapped during a surprise attack in Hogsmeade by Messrs. Tyrfing and Nimrod, two Ghosts of Silesia who were notorious for both their power and brutality. Their mother had barely escaped with her life, but Tracey had been taken as retribution for the Greengrasses' initial refusal to join the Dark Families' cabal in the Wizengamot.

The Death Eaters had first sent the family pieces of the girl and her mother, before sending them memory phials of their last moments as the pièce de résistance to ensure their compliance in the new world order.

Lady Greengrass spent her days locked inside her Lady's Parlor in the family's home, self-soothing with Draught of Peace and Firewhiskey.

A defeated Lord Greengrass had joined the Potter-Nott-Brown-Greengrass-Wilkes super alliance, initiated by the filthy traitorous scum Obediah Prewett in his stead as House Potter's Regent. Together, they'd levied trumped up charges of High Treason against Lords Black, Malfoy, and Prince due to the three Houses' joint refusal to participate in the murderous power-grubbing scheme. Said Lords had placed their Houses in Permanent Abeyance and liquidated all their business interests in England, ensuring that the Houses couldn't be usurped to wreak havoc. All had escaped England, in places currently unknown.

Their unceremonious exits had bolstered by the Selwyn Sect, the Wizengamot Accords - influenced by the Inheritance Act of 1588 - laid the foundation for the Muggle Reappropriation Act, Merihem Selwyn's ascension to Minister of Magic, Tiberius Nott's baseless elevation to Director of the DMLE, and Thorfinn Rowle's sudden reemergence and promotion to Chief Auror - Death Eater accusations be damned.

"Good night Greg, see you tomorrow."

The boy nodded woodenly. "Off to bed?" He made his voice louder than necessary but too loud as to be so obvious, ensuring their audience heard them.

"Yes, I'm quite tired. I'm completely full from supper and I've got Charms tomorrow and I need to be well rested." And with that Astoria swept in the direction of the dungeons, ignoring the pointed glances from Daphne and Albert.

Reaching her destination Astoria deftly fiddled with a snake pin token hidden in the lapel of her robes, entering Prefects' Row unnoticed. They were the same pins Lily Evans had created using a Protean Charm and some obscure Parsel-based modification of the Notice-Me-Not. She'd made them for then-Second Year Harry and members of his Claimant Administration to successfully bypass the hallway to the Lair.

Reaching the Lair's entrance the witchling muttered the password: "Obi Hans-Wan Kenobi Solo."

None had the heart to change it after Harry's death, he, his brother, and their father getting Kissed by rogue Dementors during the Express' journey to Hogwarts in the previous September. Astoria was certain the Azkaban escapees were responsible for that particular sabotage, no doubt orchestrated by Obediah to aid in his schemes to become the Potter Regent.

A shudder went through her at the recollection of Lily Evans' grief-stricken screams echoing throughout the castle's entryway, shattering every pane of glass in their wake. She'd disappeared from Hogwarts thereafter, dying in a blazing inferno of Fiendfyre during a particularly violent confrontation between herself and three of the Ghosts who'd escaped from Azkaban.

The world was much better off without Miss Demeanor in it.

With a sigh the exhausted witchling stepped into the Lair…

To be greeted by the sight of Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, and Miranda Bonnevie waiting for her.

"Finally," said Prince Claimant Weasley with no real bite, oak brown eyes gently crinkling.

Her family were firmly allied with the Order, choosing to stay behind to help those who weren't able to help themselves. From his position as Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, Arthur was required to work closely with Amos' Muggle Division, using it as an opportunity to squirrel intel to the Order to subvert some of the Patrol Raids. Molly ran safehouses using the Burrow and Shell Cottage as cover, warded to be nigh impenetrable by Bill. Their remaining children were in Hogwarts, doing the best they could to support the family's efforts.

"Terribly sorry," Tori replied woodenly. "I just witnessed Katie Bell being dragged away by Cecil Lee to…well…I'm sure you know."

Four horrified gasps met her leaden statement.

"What in Circe's name was she doing outside of the Room?!" exclaimed Miranda.

"...I don't know. It wouldn't surprise me if she was lured out, though by whom I don't really know."

"McLaggen?" volunteered Bonnevie quietly. She was their informant for all the schemes Giles and Albert cooked up, helping to avert some of the worst of it.

"No," replied Pansy firmly, confident in her boyfriend's intentions. "He knows how to play up the worst of his poncy prat personality to keep the Yaxleys off his back, but he wouldn't sell out anyone. He…he learned his lesson with Seamus." They all flinched at that.

The two boys had been arguing in the Gryffindor Common Room about the cause of Amy's disappearance, before being interrupted by Alecto Carrow's appearance - the newly named Gryffindor Head of House. The witch had immediately zeroed in on Seamus as the culprit and instigator, bolstered by Cormac's impulsive agreement. Since McLaggen was a pureblood and Seamus was a halfblood, Alecto had sequestered the latter to be punished in The Playroom - the personal torture chamber of the Carrows in their stead as DADA co-professors.

Finnegan had been flayed to near death, unceremoniously dumped back in front of the Fat Lady's portrait.

Cormac had spent a week in the Infirmary in a coma from a near overdose of Dreamless Sleep, unable to cope with the horror and guilt of what he'd done.

Sighing, they went about the evening's agenda.

"Anything new from the Malfoys?"

Pansy shook her head in the negative. "Nothing new so far, same plans as before. Lord Malfoy has increased funding for more safe houses in Rio, so the Order can funnel more refugees away." Before placing his House into abeyance and fleeing with Draco, Lucius had created a secret Gringotts account to continue House Parkinson's financial upkeep, a sign of his faith in their loyalty and that Narcissa hadn't succeeded in bankrupting him as had been believed.

Though the abeyance provision left Andrew as a political sitting duck, it did provide him the perfect opportunity to report to his liege the state of the Wizengamot. Houses Crabbe and Goyle were also political sitting ducks, but their willingness to go along with the current regime meant that no galleons from Lord Malfoy's coffers were flowing into theirs.

Ginny nodded. "...Anything new on Lord Gaunt?"

A wave of fear swept through the Lair.

During Halloween, Lady Gaunt and a group of her closest friends were enjoying a baby shower celebration at Madame Milburga's etiquette school, a small respite amidst the brewing chaos. They'd been ambushed by Mr. Tyrfing and another who called herself Miss Vespertine.

It'd been a blood bath with no survivors.

Lord Gaunt, understandably, had snapped.

Three days later, the head of a slain Cassilda Selwyn had been mounted on a pike outside the rubble of the school, with the words 'Semper En Potentia Mortis' scrawled in the witch's blood on the ruins.

The invocation of House Gaunt's ominous motto made the implication more than clear.

Narcissa Black's head had followed a few days later, since she (unbeknownst to anyone save Lord Gaunt) had been the one to Imperius Madame Milburga into removing the protective wards over her building, allowing the Death Eaters unrestricted access.

Riddle had ensured she'd suffered the worst of his Legilimency before beheading her whilst she'd pitifully blubbered for death.

Wizarding Britain was shaken to its core, especially given who the Selwyns were. Cassilda's father Aldones had been installed as the House's new Seneschal and proxy, and together with Prewett, attempted to censure and formally expel House Gaunt from the Wizengamot.

Due to a special provision in the Wizengamot Charter dating back to the 1100s that allowed for House Gaunt's inclusion (and unprecedented elevation to Ancient and Noble despite being part of the new invaders), that had been impossible.

They'd officially revoked the Magical Youth Liaison Program, attempting to sequester the funds used to finance the now-defunct program. Duncan Lord Rosier - Head of Wizarding Child Services - had been lucky to escape with his life when he'd charged into Gringotts making demands of Skull-Crusher, House Gaunt's Account Manager.

Though Skull-Crusher had kept an ear, just as a reminder to the stick-wielders of their complete lack of authority in Goblin affairs.

In a final act of desperation, DMLE Director Nott had approved an envoy of almost thirty aurors to Castle Basilicus in an attempted siege, led by Thorfinn Rowle in his stead as Chief Auror.

He'd been the sole survivor, having to be kept in a healing coma for almost a month. His memories of that colossal failure of an attack had confirmed long-held suspicions of Riddle's status as an Archmage on par with the Founders of olde. No other attempts had been made against the ancient manse.

Riddle was now branded as 'Undesirable No. 1' by the new Ministry, wanted for Cassilda and Narcissa's murders and that of the aurors he'd gruesomely slaughtered. Beneficiaries of his program were now targets of the new Ministerial regime, the only blow they could deal against Lord Gaunt.

"Nothing so far. According to Draco he's certain Riddle is still working with the Kolumbikos and planning something with Professor Snape and Lord Black, though Lord Malfoy is not able to confirm anything. He's not too sure Riddle's still in Castle Basilicus, though it would be impossible to confirm or deny if so. Draco did mention that he chatted a bit with Eurus and Luna, and they're as well as can be. Apparently Xenophilius has taken quite well to the desert climate." Pansy couldn't help the snort of amusement that escaped her.

The youngest Weasley nodded with a tired smile before turning to converse with the Hydra Throne, made possible by a unique parseltongue transcription spell that allowed her and her Claimant Administration to effectively communicate with the serpents. They'd been horrified to learn of Harry's death and the overall demise of Wizarding Britain. However, they'd been very impressed with Ginny's efforts in establishing her own network of faithful co-conspirators to attempt to steer the House on a better course despite the signs that things were headed off a very steep cliff.

She'd received her questing letter around the Yule holiday, after succeeding in censuring Cassius Warrington (in a manner similar to Draco's) and using him as a mole within Zacharias Smith's circle. After reversal of his Hogwarts expulsion, Cassius had returned to Hogwarts with intent to resume schemes. Unfortunately for him, the Yaxley brothers liked and trusted him even less than Miranda, and after months of increasingly futile blustering, had gone a step too far by threatening Miranda with punishment from the Carrows for some perceived slight.

Ginny couldn't let that stand.

Heir Warrington had fainted in absolute terror when Nidhogg had feigned as though he were going to eat him.

As for Zacharias, the turning tide had seen him elevated to a valued member of the Inquisitorial Squad. It was on par with House Smith's pending elevation to an Ancient and Noble House, so long as they allied with House Selwyn on any and all matters of import. Bolstered by his ever-increasing fortunes, Smith had turned into a mini-tyrant, working to make life hell for any 'lesser' student who didn't know their place.

It was Cassius' responsibility to inform Ginny exactly whom those lessers were and what Zacharias' plans entailed.

Sighing, Astoria tuned back into the conversation at hand, preparing for yet another long night.

2:50AM (Previous Timeline)...

The soft pop in Astoria's bedroom jerked the witchling out of her sleep, ebony wand a blur as it was pointed directly between the house elf's eyes and causing them to cross quite comically.

"Tweak?!"

"It is I, young miss." He gestured subtly toward the wand, causing Tori to blush as she re-holstered it. "Your presence is required in the Come and Go Room."

"Why?"

"Professor Umbridge asked me to fetch you." She paled. "It is very urgent as there are some… guests from the Department of Mysteries." Eyes widening, she quietly summoned her traveling cloak, allowing the elf to ferry her to the Room's entrance.

Upon her arrival, she was met with the sight of a tense Umbridge and a blank-faced Penelope Clearwater. The latter had chosen to remain in Hogwarts, wiping her parents' memories and relocating them to some remote part of Australia - completely unaware of their past in England and their daughter.

She was a defacto leader for The Sanctuary - the official name for the refugee enclave established by Dumbledore and McGonagall in the Room of Requirement. The Ravenclaw was an exceptionally brilliant witch, a true testament to the very best of the Eagle's Nest. She possessed a natural talent for Charms, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Transfiguration, channeling her abilities into spellcrafting and unique weapons artificing for the Order. The Weasley Twins were her trusted assistants who weaponized their 'Wizarding Wheezes' to fight back against the Carrows and the Inquisitor Squad.

Amycus Carrow seethed for revenge for his ruined face and missing hand, the result of modified Exploding Snap cards the Twins had (somehow) succeeded in sneaking into The Playroom.

As for Umbridge, she'd discovered her true parentage as being descended from House Selwyn. She'd then discovered that her mother - in her act of defiance in eloping with her father - had been brutally murdered in revenge, tied in with a redacted curse against her father that caused his premature mental and magical decline.

Vengeance burned in the witch's heart, and in spite of her public ingratiation and deference to The Family - enough to be promoted to the Hogwarts Muggle Studies Professor - she'd sworn that she would do whatever it took to destroy House Selwyn. The acts of nigh unspeakable violence wrought by Merihem's new ministerial administration against innocent magicals steeled her resolve, using her position to protect the students to the best of her ability and helping with the refugee efforts.

"Good to see you dear." In a flash Umbridge cast a rapid-fire slew of privacy charms that rendered them all but invisible. She quickly explained the reason for the summons and whom to expect on the other side of the door.

"So are the Unspeakables waiting for us in the Sanctuary?" Tori stared askance in the Room's direction.

Umbridge shook her head in the negative. "No…from what I understand, they are waiting in another…place…the Room created for this very specific purpose, completely unattached to The Sanctuary." She turned to stare at the non-descript door with a strange expression. "Not sure how that's possible…"

"Thaumaturgical interdimensionality manifested as ubiquitous co-spatial wizardspace locations unique to a fixed temporal point manifesting upon specific magical summons," was Penelope's response, causing the others to gawk.

"Huh?" was Tori's response.

"Spaces within spaces alongside other spaces existing at the same time," said Penelope, eyes softly crinkling. "But I can't imagine we can continue to dawdle," she continued, warm expression disappearing in a flash.

"No, I imagine not." Sighing, Dolores drew the two witches into firm yet gentle hugs, pleased to feel them respond in kind. The older witch was one of the few sources of comfort and maternal reassurance in the current hellscape of their lives, and she'd more than earned their trust by shielding them from the Carrows' attention.

"I have full confidence in you both, it will be alright."

"And if it's not?" The Ravenclaw's tone was wooden.

Umbridge's expression tightened fiercely. "Then they'll have me to contend with." And with that she ushed them into the Room, ferried away to her private quarters by Tweak upon completion of her task.

3:01AM (Previous Timeline…)

Once the door closed behind them, the two Unspeakables enacted several additional privacy Charms, most of which neither witch recognized. Only then did they seem to relax. The older man spoke first.

"Now that that's done, allow me to introduce myself. I am Saul Croaker, the Public Relations Officer for the Department of Mysteries. Also known colloquially as the Voice of the Unspeakables and more formally as Number 2. My associate here can be addressed as Number 3." The perfectly nondescript nodded once.

"Before we proceed," said Saul. "We have a few preliminary questions." He turned to Penelope. "Firstly, are you Penelope Phoebe Clearwater, a Seventh Year Muggleborn Sorted into Ravenclaw in 1987?"

Penelope blinked. "Yes," was the terse response.

"And are you also the daughter of Hugh Clearwater and Angeline Clearwater née DuPont?"

"I am."

"And were you born in Shrewsbury on the 9th of May 1976 an hour before the stroke of midnight? Bearing the astrological signs of a Taurus Sun, Virgo Moon, and Sagittarius Rising?"

A brow quirked regarding her zodiac signs. "That is correct."

Saul looked at Number 3, who nodded once. He turned to Astoria, who was very confused but kept her expression perfectly blank.

"And are you Astoria Evanthe Greengrass, a Second Year pureblood Sorted into Slytherin in 1992?"

"I am."

"And are you the second-born daughter of Daniel Acker Greengrass and Winifred Briar Greengrass née Abbott? And the younger sister of Daphne Amaranth Greengrass?"

"Yes and yes."

"And were you born on the 5th of April in 1982 in Somerset at 9:19PM, bearing the astrological signs of an Aries Sun, Virgo Moon, and Scorpio Rising?"

"Yes, that's correct."

The Voice nodded and turned to Number 3.

The witch turned towards the covered object on the sole center table neither Astoria nor Penelope had even noticed, grabbing a corner of the cloth before yanking it away. Underneath was a solid cube completely covered in a chrome-like metal with an obvious button on the top.

"Have either of you seen this object before?" asked Three.

Penelope and Tori exchanged confused glances. "No," they replied in unison.

"What is it exactly?" asked the Ravenclaw curiously. To her mounting suspicion, the two Unspeakables exchanged a noticeably tense glance.

"We'll be able to tell you once you both press that button in the middle. At the same time."

The younger witches exchanged a tense glance, tightening their respective grips on their wands. Saul noticed, allowing his own wand to discreetly slip into his grip. He hadn't been expecting a potential offensive reprisal, especially at the hands of witches far younger and considerably less experienced than he.

But, one could never be too sure.

"And why the hell would we do that?" snarled Astoria, feeling her wand start to warm in response to her mood.

Number 3 replied as calmly as she was able. "Because it will not only provide an answer to both your questions, but will hold the key to correcting the current state of things." Her eyes narrowed significantly.

Startled, the younger witches exchanged a nervous glance before reaching out as one and pressing the button.

Matching expressions of wonder illuminated all their faces as they watched the cube floated up into the air and go through a dazzling array of shape changes before finally returning to its original cube-shape. Soon, it floated back down and divided into hundreds of considerably smaller cubes that unfurled from the center mass as though it were a blooming flower.

A shaft of light shot up to the ceiling, and then, after a few seconds, a tiny object floated up until it was eye-level with both witches. It was oddly shaped, a crystalline glass tube that constantly twisted and turned back in on itself, a current of pure golden sand following its path.

Penelope choked. "Blimey! That's a Klein bottle!"

The Voice looked startled whilst Number 3's eyes widened. "You know what this is?" she asked with a surprising amount of urgency.

"A hypothetical impossibility!" exclaimed Penelope, eyes still wide as she gazed at the floating object. "It's a curved object with a singular surface because it folds back inside of itself! Arithmetically speaking, it's a two-dimensional manifold with no definable mathematical boundary because it is constantly and continuously changing." Her eyes narrowed as they roved critically over the floating bottle. "As far as I know, a true Klein bottle can only exist in the fourth dimension, though three-dimensional objects can be used to imitate its form."

Saul and Astoria looked completely dumbstruck; the former for Penelope's ability to so eloquently articulate the mechanics of the Omega-level artifact, the latter for being utterly confused as to anything that had just been said.

Number 3 was content to just beam in delight. "How did you ever hear of it?" she asked excitedly.

Penelope's expression shuttered. "My mother was an engineer, higher level mathematics like this was her niche."

Three just plundered on. "Do you know anything else about it?"

"...Well, yes. A Klein bottle's surface, if traveled upon, could be followed back to the point of origin whilst flipping the traveler upside down. An individual could traverse the time-space continuum and end up at the same temporal point with an opposite or differing spatial orientation. Or a different temporal point depending on preference. It's so funny…" she trailed off for a moment. "I'd attempted to incorporate these similar concepts into a portkey to see if it was possible to venture back to the same origin point, but at a different moment in time, just to see if it was feasible. The arithmancy formulas were a complete nightmare, and don't even get me started on the runic matrices, I'd swore I'd never look in the direction of Younger Futhark ever again."

The Voice choked at the witch's glibness. "You've…you've…experimented with time travel?!" If possible, Number 3's eyes grew even wider as she let out an excitable "Eep!"

The witch scoffed. "Please, don't be ridiculous. None of my experiments worked, I just learned how to cast Portus non-verbally for all my work." Her expression grew thoughtful. "I figured my experimentations were violating Gamp's Third and Fifth Principal Exceptions; seems as though a physical human form - the spatially-extended vessel for that metamagiphysical thing called the soul - can neither be truly co-located nor exist at any point prior to its own existence, even in a controlled quasi-vacuum the Portkey affords."

The dam finally broke as Three squealed like an excited schoolgirl, clapping her hands in delight at the prospect of finding a future recruit for the Time Division. Two's eyes and mouth could only open wider at the sheer amount of Mastery-level knowledge the Seventh Year knew like the back of her hand!

Unfortunately, 003 was the only excited one as Astoria chose that moment to let her anger known.

"So you mean to tell us that you had a bloody time machine the entire time Wizarding Britain has been going to hell…AND YOU NEVER THOUGHT TO BLOODY USE IT?!" Everyone jumped at the Slytherin's loud and furious interjection.

"We couldn't use it whenever we wanted to Miss Greengrass, please understand." Number 3 sighed tiredly before continuing. "The Time-Turner allows for time travel and is the only thing known to us that does. But it is the Cryptohedron that determines when it can be used and by whom. And it only does so when it has predicted an imminent disaster, usually one that will result in catastrophic loss of human life. However, its unique character dictates that such an event could be averted if a particular person - or persons depending on the context - in the recent past were given advance knowledge of the future. Until the Cryptohedron opens at the touch of its chosen user or users who are the only persons who can open it, the Time-Turner is completely inaccessible. Because…well…metamagiphysically speaking, its container doesn't fully exist in our universe until the user or users summon it."

"And the catastrophic loss of life incurred by these Patrol Raids under the pureblood fascistic rule of the new Ministry didn't count as enough of an imminent disaster for the Cryptohedron to be activated earlier?" The Unspeakables winced at Penelope's icy tone.

"Unfortunately Miss Clearwater, what exactly entails 'imminent disaster' for the Cryptothedron's activation is relative to the Cryptohedron's…interpretation." Three looked to the Voice as though asking for permission. A few beats passed awkwardly before the man tightly nodded.

"Per our intel, the Dark Lord is in the process of being reanimated and bringing with him an unkillable Werewolf Army and Dementor Envoy, the latter of which consists of well over a thousand wraiths. Both of whom will be used to decimate any and all 'undesirables'. In both the magical and muggle world. And not just in Wizarding Britain."

Astoria staggered backwards in horror whilst Penelope turned as white as a sheet.

"...Unkillable werewolf and dementor army?" choked Penelope.

"Yes Miss Clearwater." the Voice sounded exhausted.

"...And this can only be stopped if…if…if she and I go back in time and change everything?" choked Astoria. "How the bloody hell are we meant to do that?! Blimey do we look like Morgana and Circe reincarnated to you?!" Her expression turned properly furious. "And what the hell are all you adults in the bloody Department of Mysteries doing about this?!"

'Well, 008 is running ragged trying to keep the aide-de-camp from razing Wizarding Britain to the ground in a nuclear-adjacent resolution. And that's on top of having 016, 048, and 064 running protective surveillance on the Prime Minister while having to do their regular jobs. Circe how that man hasn't gone mad I'll never know. Though if all that fails, I'm sure 013 would be more than happy to initiate the Doomsday Protocol.'

Not a single word of 003's rambling thoughts escaped her lips. Instead she sighed and gestured for 002 to take the lead.

"This is the primary option the Unspeakables have at our disposal to avert this imminent crisis, and, have an opportunity to potentially change disasters that led up to this particular moment."

"And if we refuse?"

"Then we all die, Miss Greengrass. Every last one of us." The witchling shivered at the portentousness of the man's tone.

"How do we avoid a paradox?" interjected Penelope, staring at the Time Turner with great intensity. "From my understanding, if you change history in the past, the future you came from would be different and then the future-you wouldn't have a reason to go back and change the past."

"Bledsoe's Paradox," replied Three. "According to our research the Time Turner is the only device capable of overcoming Gamp's Third and Fifth exceptions, nullifying the existence of said paradox to begin with. Your physical forms won't do the traversing; it will be your souls. Per our research the soul, once it has been separated from its physical vessel, has no material component to upset the system of magical balances governed by Gamp's Law."

The would-be time travelers absorbed that daunting revelation.

"And how will we know that anything we do will work?"

002's eyes shone with intensity. "You will. When the moment or event occurs wherein you've made the appropriate change, you'll know. Trust me Miss Clearwater." Her expression turned dubious but she didn't reply.

"Will we see either one of you again?" she continued.

"Yes," replied Croaker. "And it won't be paradoxical for the aforementioned reasons. In the future, the Cryptohedron will once more activate as it first did during the Solstice. It will go through its seven-stage unfurling and upon completion of the final stage, will be brought back here to the Room of Requirement by some value of 'us', who will be here to meet with you again. We'll follow the same protocols of confirming your identities and then reveal the Cryptohedron to you again."

"At that point," continued 003, "you will advise us that you have seen it before and used it successfully before restoring the Time-Turner to its container. We will not fully debrief you as our records strongly discourage us from trying to find out too much about the device's inner workings. But we will likely ask that you provide at least a comprehensive summary for our records of the nature of the disaster that led to the Cryptohedron's activation. Once complete, we will return it to the Department of Mysteries for safe keeping. At that point, your respective roles in this affair will be over." The witch's expression turned sly. "Though I hope you certainly engage me with your exceptional understanding of Klein bottles and your subsequent experimentations with potential time-travel Portkeys."

"003, that's enough!"

"003?" repeated Penelope amusedly. "What, I'm guessing you're 007?"

"Ha! He wishes!" The Voice grumbled at Three, who merely smiled and winked cheekily at him.

At this point, Penelope and Astoria turned towards each other, seemingly having an unspoken conversation. Though currently allies as a consequence of unforeseen and horrific circumstances, this was an entirely different matter altogether. They wouldn't be bound by just the consequences of their choices, but rather machinations of Fate.

The prospect was as daunting as it was damning.

A tense moment passed (003 shamelessly fidgeted in the background)...

Before the two witches nodded and turned as one to the Unspeakables.

"How do we activate it?"

Croaker and Three looked visibly relieved.

"Just reach out and take it," replied the older witch.

And as one, they did just that.

In a blaze of Wild Magic, the bodies of Penelope Clearwater and Astoria Greengrass were vaporized.

But their souls carried on, thrust through the time-space continuum back to the exact where and when Time and Fate had decided they needed to be.

Now (Current Timeline…)

All Harry could do was goggle as his mind attempted to rationalize all that he'd just heard.

"...That's insane. That's utterly mad."

"That happened. All of it." Penelope sighed, suddenly looking quite exhausted. "The only reason she and I aren't trapped in that dystopian timeline is because the Unspeakables informed us that some arcane magical artifact had chosen us to go back in time to prevent said dystopian timeline from coming about." She turned to stare at the Cryptohedron with an inscrutable expression. "And now…it seems it'll have to happen all over again."

"And you're at the fulcrum of it Harry." The boy jerked at Tori's tone, stiffening when she gently grasped his hand. "What happened to your mum…" he looked away in shame. "...Theo…Miranda…everything that traitor Obediah did…hell, even everything that happened in Ilkley tonight! It seems Fate has determined that all of those events could lead to another dystopian reality, and thus is allowing us - you - the opportunity to prevent it from happening."

Harry stared directly into the girl's pale blue eyes, Legilimency at work as he firmly gripped her comforting hand. He sensed that she was being completely sincere, practically radiating earnestness despite the undercurrent of weariness that was more readily obvious in Penelope's countenance. He made to speak, only to close his mouth with an audible clack. Finally, he took a deep calming breath and was at last collected enough to speak.

"You're certain? About all of it?" Both witches seemed to understand the layered depth of his question, exchanging a loaded glance.

"Yes," replied Penelope quietly. "I understand your doubts and fears…we had them too before we traversed this path. But we couldn't allow them to stop us from doing what was necessary. And this Harry…this…is necessary." Her eyes burned with an intensity he would have never expected from the usually reserved witch.

He turned towards the strange button on the Cryptohedron, emerald eyes absorbing the mystifying pulsing of the many-sided box.

Astoria let go of his hand, taking a step back to stand besides Penelope.

A beat passed…

Before Harry pressed the button.

Instantly, the seams of the Cryptohedron flashed brightly before fusing together so that the cube now appeared to be solid chrome. Then, it gently floated up into the air before it started to rotate, slowly at first but then faster.

As it moved, Harry noticed that the object's shape was changing. Where it started as a perfect cube, gradually the corners began to distort and sink into the object to produce additional planed surfaces.

First, it was a six-sided cube. Then, it had seven sides. Then, eight…twelve…twenty…forty…more.

Amazed, Harry further opened up his Legilimency senses to better understand what he was seeing… before reeling back in shock as his mind whir-clicked in the only manner of understanding he was capable of.

The Cryptohedron wasn't changing its shape at all. Rather, its true shape was something that could not be fully perceived. Not by him, not by anyone in this world, save for maybe (just maybe) Luna Lovegood. Only when it moved did it allow other aspects of its true form to be observable.

After about twenty seconds of rotation, the Cryptohedron had formed so many sides (or appeared to have done so, anyway) that it was virtually a sphere, though deep down Harry knew this was just an illusion. In truth, the Cryptohedron was still a polyhedral shape, but with far too many sides to count while it was in motion. Finally, the object slowed to a stop, still in mid-air, and then reversed direction.

Gradually, it now appeared to lose sides until, after twenty seconds or so, it was once more in the (apparent) shape of a cube. It then floated back down to settle into its original position.

There was another flash of light from the cube, along with the sound of gears in motion. Where before, the Cryptohedron appeared to be a single solid cube, it now looked as though it were made of dozens and dozens of tiny cubes stacked together. Then, the smaller cubes began to move, starting with those on top which slid up and out from the center, and then those on the lower levels which did the same. As the cubes separated, the whole thing started to resemble a strange metallic flower that was swiftly coming into bloom.

And from the center of the Cryptohedron, a brilliant white light shot up to hit the ceiling.

Harry allowed himself to gasp in amazement at the sight before him.

Slowly ascending out of the center of the Cryptohedron as if levitated by the stream of light was something new and, in its own way, even more disturbing than the Cryptohedron itself. It was a small thing, no more than a few inches across, and it was mostly transparent as if made of glass. In fact, it looked like a long thin glass tube that somehow wrapped around and fed back into itself in impossible ways.

And inside the tube was a small quantity of pure golden sand that constantly flowed up and down the impossible length of the tube, repeating itself infinitely.

And yet, as small and unassuming as the glass object was, it suddenly filled the younger Potter with a terrible sense of dread, just as he'd felt when he'd witnessed Pandora Lovegood summon the forces of the Dark Wild and Obediah Prewett incant in Verbis Diablo.

He steeled himself, expecting a discordant and blasphemous whine to arise in its preternatural fury.

It never came.

What Harry did feel was an infallible certainty that he was gazing at something unnatural, something so far beyond the grasp of the current Reality that it should have never been able to take form and allow itself to be seen, least of all by mere mortals whose feeble perception would never grasp the breadth of its existence.

It was spell-binding.

It was sinister.

It was that which could have only been forged by the hand of the First of the Eldest Gods - Time Himself.

A string of his temporal essence folded in an imperfectly perfect loop and left to dwell in the Endless Expanse of the Wild Unknown, only accessible to the human mortals when he and Goddess Fate willed it so.

With a shuddering breath, Harry turned to look back at the two Time-Travelers who - as one - stared at him with a keen intensity that he would have found discomforting in any other context.

"It's time Harry," whispered Astoria, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Penelope blinked, before allowing a small smile to lift her lips. "May the force be with you."

And with that oddly reassuring declaration, Harry grabbed the Time-Turner and was vaporized in a blaze of Wild Magic, though his soul carried on.

Deep in Dreamland, Luna Lovegood keeled over mid-charge and desperately clutched the mane of her unicorn Pringle, feeling as though her head were splitting in two as an infernal canine howling that had plagued her since the previous summer rose in an incomprehensibly loud crescendo.

Across from her and wailing in agony were the dream-selves of the Carrow Twins, their singular shared Blibbering Humdinger - a hideously malformed behemoth that yearned to feed - shrieking in tandem with its mistresses.

Nose and eyes bleeding, Luna looked upward to the blackening skies, seeing without sight. With great effort she forced herself to focus her magic in the direction the infernal baying was the loudest. She almost lost her resolve until she saw it.

Or rather, them.

The Hounds of Tindalos.

Devourers of Time.

Sentient manifestations of anti-temporal matter borne of the ruined time-flesh of the First of the Eldest Gods, created from his injuries in The Great War of the First Time Before.

They'd first manifested when Mehet-Weret had taken her Primary Form, wiping and recreating Reality on an unending loop.

They'd once more appeared when Those-Who-Lay-In-Darkness were banished from the mortal realm to lay toiling in their blood-soaked bonds in the fathomless abysses of the Dark Wild.

And once more when Sardeth invoked the Rite of Holyfyre to wipe all of the Paar'zheal from every iteration of Reality.

As the Wild Realms established themselves and time went on, they would only manifest when relics of Time Himself were used or invoked.

Including the Cryptohedron and the Time-Turner.

To Luna's horror a grotesque three-headed canine that resembled a flayed and ichor-drenched hybrid between a Cerberus and a Hungarian horntail descended down from the heavens. An impossibly large proboscis plunged downward and Luna knew no more.

AN 1: Finally, the big reveal. I'd initially considered Pansy as Lady Witherington (even had a few draft scenes), but I ultimately went with Astoria as the final choice. Her and Penelope were the most unlikely duo I could think of, thought it went well. The role of Astoria Greengrass/Lady W. is played by Georgie Henley in her role as Lucy Pevensie (The Chronicles of Narnia - Prince Caspian). The role of Penelope Clearwater/Cher Ami is played by Hermione Corfield in her role as Kirsty Mcleod (The Road Dance). A subtle nod to our OG time-traveler, Hermione Granger.

AN 2: I can't stress this enough, but poor Harry :(

AN 3: Number 3, once again, is played by Jodie Whitaker in her stint as the 13th Doctor. She's a bit mad but I find it rather endearing. We'll see her again in a future chapter.

AN 4: Sohwildo, Kehlnazol, and other such Wild Runes will be expanded upon in Book 4 & 5. Along with more details about all the delightful creatures that dwell in the Wild Realms.

AN 5: I was always rather put out by TSM mentioning and the Hounds of Tindalos and never including them again lol. Luna vs. the Carrow Twins will be resolved in Part 3.