Marked as His Equal (unedited)

by TheL0sts0uls

On September 1st, 1941, Hogwarts welcomed refugees of Grindelwald's War, as Tom Riddle has been researching his past, trying to uncover his ties to Salazar Slytherin. Among the refugees is an Austrian witch intent on guiding the future Dark Lord down a better path, even as she too must contend with forces threatening to tear her and the world apart. Female Harry Potter, Time Travel

1. Chapter 1-10

Marked as His Equal

HP Fanfiction

Summary: On September 1st, 1941, Hogwarts welcomed refugees of Grindelwald's War into its halls. In his 4th year, Tom Riddle has been strengthening his position as one of the brightest of Hogwarts students of his time and has been researching his past, trying to uncover his ties to Salazar Slytherin to find where he might belong. Yet that all changes as the eyes of the school are drawn to Lilith von Schwarzwald, last survivor of the infamous Austrian family that was wiped out by Grindelwald for opposing him and his war, as Continental Europe and its colonies are spiraling into the Second World War. Sorted to Slytherin, the redheaded witch demonstrates a refusal to yield to anyone, with a quiet violence, unusual kindness and intelligence that intrigued Tom in many ways. As Tom deals with the trauma of his past and the volatile conditions of being a student of Slytherin House, he finds himself ever drawn to Lilith von Schwarzwald's side, even as she too must contend with forces threatening to tear her and the world apart.

Chapter 1: Dark Times

The air was filled with the sound of explosions, screams and tumbling stones as a figure moved slowly and unsteadily through the corridors of an ancient castle, his left hand supporting his body against the wall as he moved deeper into the darkness. His breaths were long and deep as his right hand was held tightly against his stomach, blood slowly oozing through his fingers, despite his best attempts to stem the flow. He walked down the familiar stairs leading to the Dungeons, his mind trying to understand where it all went wrong. Was it when he allowed the so-called Chosen One to live in his first year at Hogwarts, when he could have ended the miserable boy's life with but a flick of a wand? Was it four years later, when he used the boy to discover the truth of the Prophecy that bound them both together in a struggle for survival and once again allowed the old man to thwart his victory? Or was it just a short year back, when he ignored the signs that signified that his enemies had discovered the secret to his immortality and had begun to destroy them one by one? He honestly couldn't figure it out. After all, everything seemed to have progressed exactly as he had envisioned.

The Ministry of Magic had wasted away a full year denying his return from the dead, while he cared for and restored the strength of his most faithful followers in anticipation of open war. His other followers, those who escaped the manhunts after his own unexpected downfall, had placed themselves in strategic posts within the Ministry, allowing his forces the ability to not only move freely anywhere within the bounds of Britain, but to attack and slaughter his enemies while the pathetically staffed forces of the DMLE were unable to do anything but arrive in time to put out the fires and tag the bodies of the dead. Even the old man's best and brightest were powerless to stop him, as the Order of the Phoenix was stretched far too thinly to actually achieve anything other than a few skirmishes when his followers attacked the homes of the Order's members and their allies. Then, everything changed. Fifty years. It took fifty years for the thorn in his side to die and he celebrated the old man's end. Within a month of his death, his Order was scattered to the winds, the Ministry had fallen and his forces were finally able to capture the single greatest prize of all.

The man dragged his hand across the surface of the stone walls of the dungeon, feeling the echoes of magic that could be traced back over a thousand years. Hogwarts. From the moment he entered the grand doors of the Castle's main gates, to the sight of the ceiling that revealed the night sky beyond the stones that sheltered them all from the cold winds of the Scottish Highlands. From the moment he entered into his ancestor's Common Room, the far wall reflecting the lights of the fires that kept the area warm, the Black Lake's waters pressed into the glass that allowed the children to gaze at a world hidden from view by the murky waters of the surface, to the green curtains that adorned his four poster bed in his own private quarters, a privilege of fate. He knew then just as he knew now. Hogwarts was his home. This ancient structure that had seen to the education of countless children, showing them the ways of sorcery, magic and witchcraft. This place that his ancestor, the noble and cunning Salazar Slytherin helped to construct from the ground up. This was where he belonged. As his strength failed him and prevented him from reaching the hidden staircase that led into his Ancestor's Chamber, he also knew another truth. This would be his grave.

For decades he dreaded this moment. The time when his strength would fail him, when even magic, his greatest source of joy and hope, would abandon him just like everything else in his life. There was no comfort to him here, besides the fact that at least he had robbed the worthless masses of their saviour's life. He grinned softly as his back pressed against the stone wall before he slid down to the ground and his legs stretched out before him. Over sixteen years. That's how long it took him to put an end to the life of the Old Man's favorite pupil, his prized student. His Gryffindor Gold Boy. Gods did he hate how the boy was treated by the brainless fools. From the moment the boy appeared within the interior of the Leaky Cauldron, surrounded by well wishers and sycophants, he knew they were destined to be enemies. The boy glowed in the adoration of the masses, while he himself was despised and feared, with everyone refusing to even utter his name after his supposed death. That day he walked up to the boy and spoke to him amicably under the guise of one of Hogwarts many Professors, while internally he sneered. He would one day kill the Boy Who Lived. He swore it.

Now the deed was done. Within the confines of the Castle's Main Courtyard, he and the boy had dueled with the fate of Britain on the line, their supporters waiting with baited breath for who would come out on top. It should've been a contest of skill and power. The boy was outclassed in both. Instead, Fate intervened. The most powerful wand ever created, the wand he rightfully claimed from the Old Man's grave, betrayed him at the last second and abandoned him, turning to ash in his fingers. He remembered lying on the ground as the boy hovered over him, a satisfied smirk on the brat's face. He was glad his time on the streets of London had treated him so poorly, since it meant he never went anywhere without an old favorite of his. With a flick of his wrist, a press of a button and a lung, and the Boy Who Lived, Neville Longbottom, was no more. Unfortunately, he didn't account for the boy to also have an ace up his sleeve as one of his constant companions came at him with Godric Gryffindor's sword. Ordinarily he wouldn't be any more scared of that blade than of his own switchblade, especially with the countermeasures he took to prolong his life. Yet that blade had been drenched in the venom of his ancestor's guardian. He snapped the redheaded brat's neck and tossed the sword away as he stared down at the body of the boy who ruined everything for him since 1981. At least they would both die this day.

After ordering his followers to lay waste to his enemies, he made his way into the castle, hoping to reach the Chamber of Secrets and it's supply of antivenom. Now he sighed to himself as he knew he would never reach the vials in time, his vision narrowing. This would be the end of his life. Despite his achievements in the Dark Arts, his accomplishments against the Old Man and successfully taking over the entirety of Magical Britain, he could feel that this would be his end. He hated it. He hated it so much. Where did it all go wrong? That thought repeated itself over and over in his mind until he realized he wasn't alone anymore. Someone was talking to him. He tried to focus his eyes and found he couldn't. All he could see were a pair of green eyes that seemed to pierce into his very soul. Beautiful. Those eyes were beautiful. As his mind faded, he heard a faint whisper of soft spoken words from what he believed to be a young woman. Then a new sensation filled his mind. Lips, warm and wet, tasting of iron and salt, pressed into his own as a new blade seemed to pierce his heart. Magic, the magic that seemed to have betrayed and abandoned him moments ago, flared inside of him as his vision and mind turned white. Out of all the ways the Dark Lord Voldemort envisioned his final moments of life to be like, this was an unexpected and oddly welcomed end.

A young man of barely fourteen years of age woke up with a start, as if the breath had been driven out of him by a knife. He moved himself to sit on the edge of the bed, breathing deeply as the scenes of his nightmare refused to leave him. It had to have been a nightmare, there was no other explanation. Yet it felt so real to the young Tom Riddle. Stumbling in the dark of his room in the Leaky Cauldron, he took the box of matches from the side of his bedside table and lit the wick of his candle, gaining some comfort from the warmth of the flame as his body felt unnaturally cold. Finding his face covered in sweat, he took the candle holder into his hand and made his way to the bathroom, where he placed the candle on the side of the sink and proceeded to wash his face with cold water from the tap. After closing the faucet, he looked himself over in the mirror, his blue eyes reflecting back at him in the dim light. Tom was no stranger to nightmares. Ever since last year when the German Luftwaffe decided that the coastal and RAF targets were not enough to dissuade the British Government from continuing the war, he had an up close and personal experience with the muggle conflict.

Wool's Orphanage was, unfortunately for him, far too close to the industrial areas of London that the Germans decided were prime targets for bombardment in August. He could still remember the moment the recently established raid sirens went off and the panic the noise caused in the streets on one of the few days he had decided to take a walk as everyone made for the nearest shelters. Tom had rushed his way to the nearest London Tube Station when the building next to him exploded, launching him a few feet away, raining concrete and dust on top of him and the other poor souls caught up in the blast. He remembered the ringing in his ears that followed soon after, even as he felt the vibrations on the ground that signaled other detonations close by. With blood dripping from a cut on his scalp, his ribs feeling tender and bruised and on unsteady legs, he did his best to reach the station as hundreds of people tried to get to cover, all the while cursing the British Ministry of Magic. Without being able to use his wand, he was powerless to do anything about his injuries, the ringing in his ears or the throngs of people in his way. He spent hours in the Tube line, huddled with the muggles as dust was dislodged from over their heads with every new detonation, before silence returned and everyone could finally head home.

The streets above ground were Hell on Earth. The stores, bakeries and restaurants that had made the area so inviting to Tom, especially after he exchanged some of his Galleons for pounds, were a mess of mangled iron bars, broken glass and shattered wood and bricks. Corpses sporadically dotted the roads, with the police trying their best to pull them to the side and cover them, but there were too few officers to get to them all in a timely manner. Tom vividly remembered walking past the corpses of a woman cradling her child, both covered in bruises and blood, feeling something stirring in his heart. He wondered for the thousandth time if his own mother had loved him, despite the fact that he was responsible for her death at the moment he was born. The weeks and months after his near death were filled with a never ending stream of nightmares of that day and every day since, as the bombings continued well into August and beyond. Getting into Diagon Alley and King's Cross had been all the more difficult during the war, as the station was only made operational when the government said so, so as not to draw the enemies attention to it. The moment he sat on the Hogwarts Express that year was the moment he could finally breathe again.

As Tom dried his hair and face with a towel, he walked out of the bathroom with his candle and placed it on the table, before he turned to look out the darkened window that looked over the Alley. Again, he had begged Dumbledore and Dippet to be allowed to stay at Hogwarts for the summer. He even asked Healer Prewett to provide him with a copy of his medical evaluation from the year prior, making it clear that staying in Muggle London wasn't safe for him, especially with the war still ongoing. Yet again, both men turned him down, saying that Hogwarts simply couldn't house him for the summer. That it was against the rules written into the School's Charter. Fearing this inevitability, Tom had done his best in his third year to make as much money as he could. He ended up helping many of his fellow Slytherins with their Defence, Charms and History assignments, all to save as many Sickles and Galleons as possible. Despite his hard work, the amount didn't cover the two full months of board in the Leaky Cauldron. He was forced to return to Wool's for a full month before being able to afford a room till the end of Summer Recess. He spent that month anxiously listening for any sign of another air raid, of which there were a few.

This last dream, however, was different. Hogwarts looked the same, minus the clear damage done to it by whatever had been happening. Was it his imagination blending the War with his time at school? It wouldn't be the first time, as he remembered waking up with a start the first few weeks back. He had to avoid the Library for that time as the students were prone to slam the massive tomes harshly on the tables, much to Madam Bulstrode's disgust. Yet something in him told him that this was different. For one thing, he had called himself Lord Voldemort. Sure, it was a name he found appealing when he started making anagrams in his diary while he tried not to fall asleep in Professor Binns' classroom. Yet he hadn't thought about using it at all. Though the fact his dream self had achieved his grand yet somewhat impossible ambitions to one day rule Britain felt great to Tom. And yet what was this about Prophecies and Chosen Ones? He knew Divination was a class at Hogwarts, but his schedule didn't allow him the chance to take it. Arithmancy, Runes and Dueling took up all his free slots and were far more important to him than bloody Divination. Though if he was honest with himself, the class he was most looking forward to was NEWT Spell Creation. He would have taken Alchemy as well, but Dumbledore was a bastard and would probably refuse his application.

Tom went back to his bed and sat down, running his hand through his short brown hair. He would be back on the Express soon, on his way back to his true home. He hoped that once he was back there he would have the chance to discover more about his heritage. He was sure he was related to the Serpens or Slytherin Families, both of which had Parselmouths in their bloodline, but both had gone extinct centuries ago. The family trees had been lost to time and even the Hogwarts Library kept little to no information on the Ancient Families beyond the names and some of their public accomplishments. Everything else was a closely guarded family secret, which many of them took to the grave. He hoped that the rumored Chamber of Secrets held something he could call his own. But first he had to find it. Thoughts of the Chamber made him remember the dream again, where he had apparently found it somewhere in the Dungeons. Was it a dream? Or was it something … more?

"Riddle." Tom nodded his head as he stared out one of the many windows of the Hogwarts Express. "Heir Nott. How was your summer?" Tom's classmate sat across from him after he stored his trunk on the rack above the seat. "Not as bad as last year. My father was less vocal about his support of Grindelwald." Tom turned his attention away from the throngs of parents and children giving each other tearful goodbyes, burying a feeling that had welled up inside of him, and looked at the young man with brown eyes and short dirty blond hair. "What changed? I thought the Dark Families were closely aligned with Grindelwald's stance, especially under Lord Rosier's guidance." Theodore Nott waved his hand dismissively. "That was last year. As the war has dragged on, it seems that Grindelwald has taken a less than acceptable stance. Prominent and Ancient Families of France and Germany have been wiped out by his Hexenmeisters forces for refusing to support his actions or to join his cause. The deaths of the Droiturière and von Schwarzwald families, both of whom were some of the most Ancient and Dark Families on the Continent, has drawn the ire of the Blacks and the Malfoys. Lord Rosier has been trying to smooth things over but the brutality of the deaths has everyone on edge."

Tom rubbed his chin in thought. "Does that mean that the Wizengamot is closer to going to war against Grindelwald's forces?" Nott shrugged. "Possibly. Lord Potter continues to advocate for the British Ministry to declare war against Grindelwald. Word is his own son and Heir, Charlus Potter, is already in France, helping out the ICW Peacekeepers." Tom leaned back into his seat, lost in thought. When Grindelwald had started the war, Tom had been supportive of him, like many of the Dark and several Neutral Families that had children at Hogwarts. Grindelwald was right in that Muggles were violent and dangerous, especially those who held too strongly to their beliefs. The Matron at Wool's had shown him just how terrible these muggles were, after having him go through several exorcisms as a child. He still bore scars across his back from some priest who resorted to striking him with a cane after the exorcism only seemed to send the magic inside of him into greater disarray. It was only after speaking to Healer Prewett that he learned it was simply his heightened emotional state causing his magic to go out of control. The failed exorcisms didn't stop the Matron from hating him, the woman trying her best to get him to starve, though his own reputation and a careful application of his knife kept that from being too much of an issue.

Still, he had to agree with the Dark families that were now distancing themselves from Rosier and Grindelwald. It was one thing to target muggles and to start a war with them that didn't violate the Statute of Secrecy. It was another thing entirely to slaughter an entire family that refused to support your position, especially the Ancient families. All that history and knowledge, lost forever. As Tom was deep in thought, the cabin door was opened and a young platinum blonde peeked inside. "Ah, here you two are. Heir Nott. Riddle. May I join you? The cabins are filling up with first years rather quickly." Both Riddle and Nott made space and, after placing his trunk in one of the racks above, Malfoy sat down beside Nott. "Tell me, Theodore, has your father said anything about the motion to officially condemn Grindelwald's actions?" Theo shrugged his shoulders. "He hasn't mentioned it to me in full detail but I assume it's going to happen. This is one of the few times the Light and Neutral Factions are more than happy to back a Dark Faction proposal." Malfoy nodded. "Of course, but the votes are only so important. It's the names attached with it that mean a lot more." Tom raised an eyebrow. "I take it that the Black's and Malfoy's aren't interested in just being the outliers?"

Abraxas sighed, his light blue eyes looking out the window. "If there was ever a moment when all families should stand together, it is with this. The Droiturière were a fine family and strong allies of the Malfoys for centuries. They had their own troubles in the Napoleonic Wars when my predecessors were forced to flee for Britain, but they still aided us in our escape from France. Their deaths are a travesty of the highest order and shouldn't go unavenged. The more Families add their names, the more we can make clear to Grindelwald that Britain won't accept such behaviour out of him or his allies. Our numbers are far too few as it is without him diminishing our bloodlines any further." Nott nodded. "I can see the value in banding together, especially if it keeps the war from our shores." Tom turned his attention away from the two, silencing his own protest. The war was already here. It had been for over a year. For the Old and Ancient families, as well as the magical population that tended to congregate in the more rural regions between England and Scotland, the war was a distant thing that barely had anything to do with them. Only he and the Muggleborns knew better. They all lived the horrors of the raids in the populated urban sprawls.

Unfortunately, telling a Pureblood they were wrong didn't make them think about how they were wrong. Instead they would think there was something wrong with you. Tom had to learn to bite his tongue and silently agree with all of them, if only to keep his own position within Slytherin secure. If he wanted to get anything done in this country, he would need the support of the Purebloods. Approaching Nott and Malfoy had been the easiest of tasks, with both having families that held some political capital, but nowhere near as much as the Rosier, Fawley and Black families. Like himself, both Abraxas and Theodore had been trying to gain some entry into Valerio Rosier's circle of followers at the school. The Rosier Heir was notoriously picky and difficult to please by anyone who wasn't a woman or from a known allied family. Tom had been hoping to improve his own reputation this year to approach Rosier, but if the news from these two acquaintances of his were true, the Rosier name had just lost some of its value, as had Grindelwald's Greater Good cause.

For now, Tom had no choice but to watch the changing dynamics in Slytherin and hope that the next King or Queen of Slytherin was more approachable for him, though the chance that they would utter derogatory slurs and ignorant rants were still high. Getting a strong position in whatever new factions developed meant he had to swallow all of the indignation and rage their ignorant and racist words elicited in him and just pretend to be like them. Easier said than done. As the whistle blew and the Hogwarts Express moved out of the station on it's way to Scotland, Nott and Malfoy started talking about the latest Quidditch news, leaving Tom to his thoughts. He honestly preferred to be ignored like this. The two Heirs had a habit of leaking important news and information about their families within earshot of him, especially concerning their stances in Wizengamot matters. The most valuable information he would get was concerning the Blacks, whose children were notoriously tightlipped about family matters. The fact the Blacks had turned against Grindelwald meant that something else had happened that was important to them. Tom wondered what it was.

Tom looked down at the Slytherin table and sighed in his mind, before making his way down and sitting next to the Prefects in charge of the first year arrivals. The dark haired sixth year across from him looked away from her cousin and looked him over. "You are looking a bit more presentable, Riddle. We might make you a proper Halfblood yet." The Slytherin Prefect beside him sighed. "Walburga, be nice. Riddle was exemplary this last year." Walburga Black turned back to her cousin and gave her an appraising look. "Careful, Lucretia. You almost sound like you have a crush on him." Lucretia Black raised an eyebrow at her Walburga. "If I did it would be none of your bloody business." The male Prefect across from Lucretia sighed. "Could you two go one moment without trying to bite each other's heads off?" The synchronized "She started it!" from both Blacks made Riddle raise an eyebrow before a voice behind him joined in on the conversation. "What's this? Little Orion isn't even sorted and yet there are already fireworks going off? It's not even Saturday at Grimmauld." Tom tensed a little as Alphard Black sat between him and Lucretia, one of the few rare shows of familiarity from the estranged member of the family.

Alphard was a conundrum that made Tom's head ache every time he tried to figure the boy out. Out of all the Blacks at the school currently, he was the least interested in gaining personal favors or exceptional grades. The boy with a curly mane of black hair and the usual Black family grey eyes was often found either drawing on a sketchbook somewhere at the edge of the Black Lake or hitting on the nearest boy he found appealing. Tom himself was a constant target of Alphard's teasing, yet Tom was certain there was something more. Alphard's eyes were always looking at people with a calculating edge, as if he were measuring them all in his own personal way. The looks he gave Tom made him shiver down to his core, especially as he seemed to delight in dragging Tom into a few discussions concerning every topic under the sun. Tom always felt so exposed under Alphard's gaze. He often wondered just how far the eccentric member of the Black family had guessed about his true nature. Still, He had to make an effort to be civil to the odd boy. "I take it that a member of the Black family will be joining us this year at Hogwarts?" Alphard smiled at him. "Quite. Little Orion is Uncle Arcturus' first born son and the likely Heir Apparent after his father."

Tom raised an eyebrow, surprised at the amount of information Alphard was sharing. Was it a bluff, a slip up or a test? Tom didn't know and it bothered him. He decided to err on the side of caution. "I take it you are all looking forward to having him in Slytherin?" Lucretia, who was apparently listening in, bent down and smiled at Tom. "Of course, I can't wait to have my little brother join us here. I am taking him around and showing him all the sights the rest of us have been talking about for years." She looked like she was about to continue speaking before the Headmaster drew everyone's attention from his place at the Speaker's Stand. Armando Dippet, who seemed to Tom like a stereotypical wizard in dark grey robes, minus his growing bald spot that was hidden beneath a pointy drooping grey hat, long white hair and short and pointed white beard with longer sideburns, cleared his throat. "Good evening, everyone. Tonight we begin another year at Hogwarts. As Professor Dumbledore gathers the first year students that will soon be sorted, I do have an announcement to make. Firstly, the Board of Governors has decreed that Hogwarts will remain Neutral with regards to the current conflict in Europe. However…"

Dippet took a moment to scan the room, momentarily pausing over the students at the Slytherin table, with Tom guessing who he looked at after his following remarks. "... this does not mean that inflammatory rhetoric or threats will be allowed within these Castle Walls. These are difficult times for all Witches and Wizards across Europe. There is no reason to bring those troubles here where they don't belong. This leads me to my next announcement. Due to the upheaval caused by the war, several families have taken refuge within Britain and their children have been permitted to continue their education at Hogwarts. They will be Sorted as soon as our first years are among their Houses. I ask all of our students to treat these refugees well, lest we become refugees ourselves one day and find no comfort or mercy in this world. Let the Sorting begin." Dippet walked away from the Speaker's Stand as the doors of the Great Hall opened. Tom, as always, gave the students a cursory glance. At the back of the younger years were what he assumed were the refugees. They were a mix of ages, with the oldest potentially being either a sixth year or a seventh year student. Seeing no one of interest, he returned his attention to the front and the man responsible for much of his difficulties at Hogwarts.

Albus Dumbledore stood at the front of the line of first year students and was looking at the list of students as the Hat sang it's song. "Beware students of red and green / Children of yellow and blue / Beware and take care of each other / Times grow bloody and lost / Take care not to become lost / So long as the Houses remain united / Hogwarts shall stand triumphant." The moment the Hat's song ended and the silence stretched on, Tom realized that the last lines of the song were something new. He looked over at Alphard. "I take it that doesn't happen often." Alphard shook his. "No, it doesn't. Look at Headmaster Dippet. He's the oldest person here and even he looks stunned." Tom looked at the clearly stunned and somewhat worried look on the Headmaster's face, when Lucretia spoke up. "I think the last time a warning was made by the Hat was during the Napoleonic Wars." Tom froze at that. Over a century had passed since the last warning, and it just so happened to be during the last major war that involved both Magical and Muggle societies going to war together. That definitely couldn't be a good sign.

As Dumbledore cleared his throat and called out the first years, Tom sank deep into thought. If Nott and Malfoy were speaking the truth and the Wizengamot was preparing to make a stand against Grindelwald's growing brutality in the Continent, it stood to reason that Grindelwald would retaliate. Taking a careful look across the table, Tom watched as the Heir Rosier started discussing things with the Heirs to the Goyle and Burkes Families, the other students near him listening in. Grindelwald would keep his hands clean until he had the necessary force. This was how he responded in the past. The failed arrest of the Charismatic Wizard in Paris almost two decades prior showed that he only ever acted when he was certain of his position and power. His subsequent disappearance in Paris and reapperance in Germany a decade and a half later at the side of Adolf Hitler's Nazi Party showed him to be a careful tactician, especially as his supporters continued to carry out attacks in the years of his apparent abscence, meaning any attack against Britain would start from his local supporters and only escalate when he had the necessary forces to accomplish his goals. That gave them some time, time he needed to spend watching Rosier.

If Grindelwald's biggest supporter took any improper action, it would be aimed at those who defied his master. If the attack was anything like the ones in Europe, collateral damage would be high, as it would only serve to bolster fear and reticence. An effective tactic, one he wished not to become a statistic of. But would it be enough to dissuade Grindelwald's enemies? Tom snapped out of his thoughts to check on the selection. As expected, the students were mostly sorted into Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, with Slytherin only getting half a dozen first years, one being the little boy that was clearly Orion, as he sat happily at the side of his sister. Slytherin's population was known to vary in size from time to time. As the refugees were sorted, Tom watched the Deputy Headmaster. The man had been a thorn in his side since the moment he arrived at the school. Many of his late night explorations of the castle were ended quickly by his sudden appearance, which kept him from making a proper check of the Castle for the Chamber of Secrets. Tom had a hard time determining if it was just his paranoia talking, or if perhaps the reason no texts on Slytherin's achievements or bloodlines endured in the Library was because Dumbledore removed them. He really didn't like the implications if his paranoid thoughts ended up being true.

Dumbledore's face changed slightly before he called the next name on the list. "Lilith von Schwarzwald." Tom turned his gaze towards the student walking up, just barely becoming aware of the silence filling up the Great Hall, his ears picking up a few random bits of conversation. "A Schwarzwald? I thought they got slaughtered… aren't those the Dark Witches and Wizards that practiced Black Magic in Austria?... She looks so mature. I wonder what year she will be in… I love what she has done to her hair… Bet you she ends up in Slytherin." Tom did his best to store all those bits of conversation in his head, even as his eyes tracked the moving figure, realizing she hadn't been visible when he looked over the refugees when they arrived. In fact, he could do nothing but look at her. While her Hogwarts uniform seemed to be the same as any other students, her bearing was anything but normal. When Purebloods entered a room under the gaze of others, they did their best to present an air of sophistication and smug superiority. This was often just an act. Yet nothing from the young woman's posture screamed smugness, only certainty. Her steps were measured and steady and her back was rigid to the point that made Tom feel his own back was slouched. As the young pale girl with curly red hair filled with streaks of black color sat down underneath the Sorting Hat, the students and the Faculty seemed to hold in their breath.

Everyone was forced to breathe as the Hat remained silent atop the girl, the pointy top swinging or simply moving as it contemplated her future house. Minutes grew longer as the students started looking at each other, wondering when the decision would be made. Alphard leaned over. "Is it me or does it look like she is arguing with the Hat?" Tom nodded as he watched the girl's posture grow ever more aggressive, her jaw clearly clenching repeatedly. After over ten minutes, the Hat finally yelled. "Slytherin!" Tom clapped along with the table as the girl retook control of her body language and returned to her more controlled state, handing the Hat to a clearly unhappy Dumbledore. He wondered what was going on in the man's mind. The girl came to sit beside the young first year refugee on the other side of the table from Tom as the banquet appeared. As she served herself her meal, Tom watched as Cygus leaned over. "Excuse me, would you be the Heiress to the House of Schwarzwald?" Tom felt his hairs stand up on end as the girl's deep green swept over the table before looking at Cygnus. "Is it not customary to introduce oneself first, before enquiring as to another's identity, der Herr… ?"

Cygnus seemed to freeze for a second, realizing his mistake. "Black. My name is Cygnus Black, Fifth Year Prefect of Slytherin House." Tom watched as the green eyes seemed to glow for a second. What was that? "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am afraid I am unaccustomed to how the British Magical Community refers to each other in accordance with custom. Is there a proper term when addressing someone of your standing?" Cygnus seemed to struggle for a second before Alphard sighed. "By the Gods, Cygnus, get your head out of your ass. My apologies, Fräulein von Schwarzwald, my brother is currently having trouble thinking straight. If you wish to refer to those not in possession of an Heir or Lord Ring, the polite terms would be Mister and Miss. I believe the rest are self explanatory." Those green eyes focused on Alphard for a second and then a smile formed on her face. The sight of it filled Tom with an unknown sensation, one he had no name for. "Danke, der Herr…?" Alphard seemed to blush. "Alphard Black, Fräulein von Schwarzwald." The young girl nodded and looked at Cygnus. "While I am unsure as to how British Family titles go, in our region, age holds no distinction. As the last of my family, I am Frau von Schwarzwald. I believe the term is Lady? I am uncertain as our family followed many old traditions abandoned by others, even concerning our use of the German language."

Tom ate his meal quietly as he listened to the Black's questions and von Schwarzwald's answers. A part of him wondered if there was a familial connection between them, even as neither side voiced it. It would explain the Blacks sudden shift away from Grindelwald supporters. If what he heard from Abraxas, who was apparently hoping to court a member of the Black family, was true, then they valued blood above anything else. If you were a Black by blood, you were protected by the family. Any slights or attacks on one was considered an attack on all Blacks. As dessert appeared on the table, Tom began to notice something as well. Whenever his attention was elsewhere, he would feel someone's eyes on him. Usually it was Dumbledore, but when he checked it wasn't the bastard sitting at the Staff Table. It took him a few more tries before he spotted who kept eyeing him. Lilith von Schwarzwald's gaze was almost always fixed on the person she was talking to, but in the two instances he checked, her eyes were on him. Did he make some error in decorum that made her focus on him or was there something else? What he did know was that this year seemed to be a lot more interesting than the last.

A sigh escaped Lilith's lips as she finished drying her red hair with a towel, having opted to shower before heading to bed. The last few months since arriving in Britain had been long and grueling as she had to not only settle the issues surrounding the von Schwarzwald family's finances, which had mostly been stored within the family estate before Grindelwald pillaged it, and her own important documents. The most annoying documents to fill out had been the placement exams she had taken to be admitted to Hogwarts, since Lilith had been taught magic by her family. While the material wasn't anything new to her, writing it down in excruciating detail was frustrating, especially with just how different her knowledge of Magical History and Potions was compared to Hogwarts' curriculum. After spending two weeks on that, time she could have spent on any number of more important things, she barely had the time to buy the books and materials for the school. At least the fact she didn't have a proper family home during the height of the War wasn't an issue since she would be spending most of her time at Hogwarts, so small favors abounded. Wiping clean the mirror above the closest sink in the bathroom that was shared by the rest of the fourth year girls, Lilith looked at her reflection.

She had never been vain about the way she looked, but she was at least happy that the attack on her family's home didn't leave her disfigured. The Purebloods of Magical Britain were notoriously vain and would judge one's looks almost as much as one's blood. Though she was technically a Halfblood, no moron within their circles would dare mention her blood status, even if they knew it. Not yet anyways. The infamy of the von Schwarzwald family, which had been a prominent Magical family in Austria since their emigration from the German Black Forest region during the rise of the Holy Roman Empire, would give her some protection. And if that didn't work, her personal collection of blades would keep the hotblooded males away. Lilith sighed as she wrapped the towel around her naked body, her left hand bearing the only scar that was visible for anyone to see if she refrained from wearing her leather gloves. The four sided star was the only indication that she survived the one thing that no living being should survive: the Killing Curse. Her left hand clenched as she walked out of the bathroom and made for her room, sensing that the ward she had erected was still intact. Stepping into the room, which was thankfully without a roommate, the benefits of being last when all other rooms had been divided amongst the others, Lilith took off the towel and slipped into a nightgown. She looked herself over in the mirror one last time, sighing to herself.

The Blacks had been insistent in trying to figure out how she had survived the slaughter of her family. It wasn't like Lilith could tell them she survived a Killing Curse. She had enough of the notoriety that bit of information brought to her and her god brother Neville back when it happened the first time. Back when she had been Lillian Potter, the Pariah. Nor could she tell the Blacks that their distant relation didn't survive at all. Resurrection was a dreadfully complicated thing to discuss, even more so when the initial soul was replaced by another. Adding to it the fact that her actions had essentially been a crime of untold proportions… there was no need to tell anyone else about that. Dropping onto the bed, Lilith stared at the canopy roof. Traveling back in time had seemed such a good idea at the time. She knew some of the details concerning this time period, most of them dealing with Non-Magical History. At the same time, she knew next to nothing about the Hogwarts of this day and age, other than it was the same Hogwarts that gave birth to Lord Voldemort, that it played host to a large group of Blacks and the rise of the early Blood Supremacy movement. Two of those things she needed to deal with, which had been compounded by a major complication.

The transfer of her soul into Lilith's body wasn't as cut and dry as she would have liked, not that she knew it was going to happen at all. Now there were two competing sets of memories in her head, echoes of feelings and emotions that were now utterly unfamiliar to her. It was hard to know where Lilith ended and Lillian began, which was made worse by the fact that she couldn't go by her future name. The Potter family was currently at the height of its power in the 20th century. Lord Henry Potter was a powerful speaker in the Wizengamot and the current ICW delegate for Britain, while Charlus Potter was apparently playing soldier with the French Aurors. Lilith wondered if Dorea Black was already out there, caring for the wounded as a Healer. Other than them, there was Fleamont Potter and Euphemia McKinnon, either in the school with her or were already of age, courting or married. She hadn't managed to look in on them all that much, feeling conflicted about what she might uncover about her grandparents. There was also the fact that the echoes of who Lilith was before her untimely death refused to shed her family name. Lillian could relate. So she decided to go by Lilith and to keep the von Schwarzwald family name alive. Then there was the other issue about having Lilith's memories.

The rage that existed within her towards Grindelwald and his forces was beyond anything Lillian could remember experiencing herself. Her life as the Pariah had taught her to bury her emotions and to just go with the flow, adjusting her plans whenever a new opportunity presented itself. Her yearmates, minus a certain blonde Ravenclaw, called her cold and unattached. Lillian had embraced that. Now that she was Lilith, the need to avenge her family was like a raging fire that threatened to overwhelm her, and it seemed to fuel her other issues, especially with a certain no longer dead prick called Albus Dumbledore. She would have to sit and watch before she decided what it was that she wanted to do with him. But for now, none of those goals were attainable. Only one was. Tom Riddle. The future Lord Voldemort was in her year. If the Diary's memories were anything to go by, he had yet to find The Chamber of Secrets or to uncover the truth of his heritage. So many things could go wrong with that. All she knew of Tom was that his Muggle father was from Little Haggleton, which might be where his mother was from. She needed to discover his heritage first, to make sure he was capable of handling it.

As her thoughts swam around, a familiar pain shot across Lilith's body and she bit her lip. Trying desperately to not scream, Lilith pulled her knees into her chest as arcs of red and green magic jumped across her skin. Blood started to drip from her lip as the pain grew, with Lilith whimpering, her mind praying that the episode would lapse. As soon as it did, she stretched out, feeling her skin ache all over, her bones feeling tense and unresponsive. Lilith pressed her finger into the wound on her lip and closed her eyes. "Episkey." She felt the skin knit back together slowly. There were so many issues she would have to deal with while being here, but the problems with her magic would be the most frustrating as it was an issue that had no existing fix. At least nothing short of taking another Killing Curse, which she really didn't want to do. So she would have to endure the pain, the different times and the political machinations of not only the children of all the major Dark and Neutral Families, but the growing darkness within a potential future Dark Lord in a time of war. For the thousandth time Lilith wondered if death was preferable to her current predicament. As with all those times, no answer presented itself. She would have to make do.

Chapter 2: A Chance to Make a Difference

The Golden Gryffindor Trio arrived at the Second Floor Girl's bathroom, before the redhead started doing his best imitation of a snake. Nothing happened within the confines of the bathroom and the bushy haired brunette sighed. "See? I told you it wasn't going to be that easy." The redhead spun on her. "Well, you try it then!" The dark haired boy next to them sighed. "I don't think it will matter, Ron. We were lucky enough to get into the Chamber when your sister opened it and then Fawkes transported us out. There is no way we can get back in there now." The brunette snapped her fingers. "That's it, Neville! Fawkes. He can get us in there! He's been flying around the Castle for months. Fawkes! We need your help!" The only response to the request was a dreadful silence. Ron sighed. "Well, so much for that." Neville nodded before he pulled the Sorting Hat out of his extended pocket and handed it to Ron. "Here. I think it's better that you carry it. You already destroyed the locket with the sword and the Snake is dead. He's all out of Horcruxes except for the Diadem. We need to find it and destroy it before the truce is up."

Ron nodded as the brunette seemed pensive. "What if the Diadem isn't the last Horcrux, Neville? You could be going into a fight with an Immortal still. You remember what Dumbledore said. There might still be one more." Ron huffed. "Yeah, inside Slytherin's Princess." Neville rubbed his hair. "Hermione, what would you want us to do about that? The only thing that has destroyed the Horcruxes has been this Sword and the really hard to control Fiendfyre curse you tried on the Cup while we were at Gringotts. That means that the only way of being sure that You Know Who was dead and gone would be to kill Lillian. Could you really do that to her?" Hermione was silent before she shook her head. "No, I can't. I mean, she's always been cold and weird, especially when Sirius had her over at Grimmauld while we were all there, but I have never heard of her hurting anyone." Ron raised his hands. "So? She's been in Slytherin the whole time! Her Head of House practically coddled her, You Know Who never even bothered her at all. Even Malfoy steered clear of her. She has to be bad news! Maybe she has been groomed this whole time, just in case he lost. If Dumbledore said we need to be sure, then she has to die." Hermione shook her head. "And where are we supposed to find her? She's a ghost, Ron. The moment Sirius argued with Dumbledore and returned the Potter Family's Invisibility Cloak to her, she just up and vanished from the corridors. We only ever saw her for class!"

The three heard an explosion and looked out the window, with Neville speaking up. "I think the Death Eaters are attacking early. We have to go!" Ron pulled Neville's arm, stopping him. "What about Potter? We can't leave her out there planning god knows what." Neville sighed. "Fine. If You Know Who turns into a wraith or something, then we go after her. For now, let's deal with the Army of Death Eaters just outside of the Castle. Come on!" The three left the bathroom, exiting outside of the field of view of the scrying bowl as Lillian pulled herself away. Tears started to stream down Lillian's cheeks. "That bastard! He said he cared. That we were godsiblings. That it didn't matter that I was a Slytherin. He lied to me! I just heard him plan my death as if it was the easiest thing in the bloody world!" Lillian pulled away and started to pace, her thoughts in chaos as a voice spoke up. "Did they say why they were planning to kill you? These people don't strike me as the bloodthirsty sort." Lillian looked at the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, her ancestor and mentor for several years. Since the Chamber of Secrets fell silent after Ginny Weasley was saved by Neville and his gang, she had been sneaking in, uncovering it's secrets. The corpse of the Basilisk had been a source of great pain to Lillian. Salazar's portrait, hidden in an alcove deep within the Basilisk's nest, had been inconsolable for months at the loss of his beloved child and guardian.

Remembering the question, Lillian turned to Salazar, wiping away some tears that slipped through her control. "Something about me being a Horcrux. How would that even be possible? And what even is a Horcrux? "Magick Moste Evile" didn't want to go into detail at all." The man in the portrait stilled, releasing the hold he had on his pointy beard. "Is that so? That is concerning and should be verified. There is a spell that can tell us for sure. I would have rathered that you never opened this Grimoire but right now it's needed. It's the one with the dark brown leather at the top of the Bookshelf. You need to say "let go" in Parseltongue to get it to release." Lillian did as she was told and started leafing through the pages, her hands feeling uncomfortable with the book. "This is human blood used as ink on parchment made from human flesh, isn't it?" The portrait shrugged. "My allies and I pulled it off from the ashen corpse of its former owner, with the intention to preserve it just in case another fool ever made another of those vile things. I was never fond of the book itself." Lillian nodded as she leafed through, her understanding of Ancient Greek coming in handy. "Found it." Taking her Hawthorne wand and holding it in a reverse grip, she pressed the tip against her arm. "Deíxe mou ti mavrisméni psychí." For a second nothing seemed to happen until black smoke started to rise out of her unhealed scar atop her left palm.

Salazar spoke as his student remained in stunned silence. "Well, that is a problem." In a rare show of emotion, the chamber started to vibrate as arcs of green light raced across Lillian's arms. "No… no… dammit all!" Lillian tossed her wand at the table, her eyes focused on the scrying bowl, even as the only thing she could see was the water within it. Tears began to impact the surface as the vibrations grew in strength. "You gods be damned bastard! You knew! You knew for 16 years and did nothing!? No research into how to get rid of it, nothing about how to save a person. No! You couldn't be bothered. An orphaned girl with no blood relations left, a Slytherin who kept her bloody head down rather than sticking out her neck for ignorant, brainless punks who were more interested in the colors of the students' ties than who they really were underneath! Of course you wouldn't be able to leave me alone even in the grave. You had to send your little soldier and his two shadows to come after me. I should have forced Draco to let me be a part of your execution, you gutless coward!" Salazar hissed. ~"Calm yourself, my dear. Breath deeply and restrain that magic. It will not serve you here. The brat and that poor excuse for a Headmaster have rightfully failed you, but your blood will not. I am here for you, as I always have been and always will be."~

Taking deep breaths with her eyes closed, the shaking of the walls lessened in intensity before they ceased. ~"Sorry Ancestor."~ Salazar shook his head. "You have nothing to apologize for, my dear. It is never welcomed to hear about betrayal at the hands of one's whose duty it was to protect you. You know what befell my heirs and how the Gaunts turned their backs on my hopes for the future. How my very name was twisted by their pettiness. It is no different. But I meant what I said, Heir born of my blood and tempered in the shadow of those who proclaim themselves greater. You will never have to doubt my loyalty to you. Now, let's return to the issue at hand. The Horcrux that my sorry excuse for an Heir has somehow embedded in you. The text was taken against its owner's will, but I and my immediate heirs might have made addendums. See if there is anything about a Horcrux on a living person." Lillian moved over towards the book glancing over it's pages. "There is no mention on how to dislodge a Horcrux from a living being. Everything here talks about destroying the object, containers and all." Salazar lowered his gaze. "Then I am afraid that your situation is unique. Even if it wasn't, any number of people would rather simply kill a vessel than bother to save it, as your Headmaster did. Humans are never known to bother with inconveniences, especially when driven by fear and hate. I had hoped my living self uncovered more, but it seems it didn't happen. I am so sorry."

Lillian turned around and slumped onto the floor running her hand through her straight black hair, pulling the bangs away from her face. "Even if I did expel the soul fragment, they would never believe me. The Weasleys have always been a jealous lot, all too eager to lend a hand to the Boy Who Lived. That brat Ronald sat with me and the other two on the Hogwarts Express, all smiles and friendly banter. The moment I was Sorted into Slytherin he turned vile and cruel, with Neville following soon after. The rest of the Order were no different. They looked at me with either pity or disgust. How Snape tolerated them for so many years was beyond me. If Dumbledore informed his lieutenants about this, then they will come for me. Even with it gone, they would just assume that the soul fragment merged with my own soul. They will hunt me, regardless of what the truth might be. I will never know a moment's peace, not here nor anywhere else. The world will hunt down the last piece of Lord Voldemort, to keep his madness from ever returning again." They remained in silence, Salazar clearly in deep thought as Lillian ran through all of her memories. She laughed bitterly as she remembered her best friend and favorite Ravenclaw. The blonde had been her only source of comfort in the Castle, the one person she could be honest with. "Luna was right. My life will end in bloodshed if nothing is done to correct the mistakes of the past."

Salazar hummed to himself as a new thought entered the portrait's mind. "Your Seer friend's warning is rather intriguing and perhaps something… more. To correct the mistakes of the past. What was the last thing she said to you?" Lillian smiled to herself. "When you see me again for the first time, promise me we'll still be friends." Salazar's portrait hummed to himself as his eyes focused on Lillian's hand. "Perhaps the Horcrux is an opportunity in disguise, one you can use to your advantage." Lillian looked up at her ancestor. "How exactly would one use a soul? As a bartering chip with the Death Eaters'? Their leadership is all but broken. If Voldemort falls again, they will all scatter to the winds." Salazar nodded. "That is true, but souls are known to do something else than breathe life into the lifeless. They form connections. Connections that some of the most desperate Magicals from ages long past figured out how to use in unique ways." Lillian stood up and stared at the Portrait, with some measure of hope, though she felt it dwindling. "How would one use a soul fragment in a situation like this, exactly?" Salazar rubbed the locket that rested on his chest. "Your Seer friend spoke of meeting for the first time once more. You can only do that… if you travel back in time and change what once was." Lillian blinked a few times in confusion. "But time travel is impossible. The Ministry has tried for centuries. Even if it was feasible, my connections only go back 17 years. To the height of the war. I doubt I can fix anything from there."

Nodding in thought, Salazar replied. "It is impossible for most people. However, there is a ritual that can achieve it, utilizing these connections between the souls. Unfortunately, there is no proof that it works. Anyone who has succeeded would never reveal that they undid time, as the undoing of history itself is considered quite the burden to bear, though the world itself would be none the wiser. As for how far your connections might go, you might be surprised. You will need your ritual dagger and the black leather bound book at the top of the bookshelf. Same password as before." Lillian sighed as she approached the bookshelf, reaching for the book. "Not much of a password." Salazar blushed. "Yes, well. When my wives and I were the only Parselmouth here, it seemed fitting. Not to mention it was a safe choice, just in case I forgot. I was quite old and frail, you know." Lillian looked at the portrait fondly after she pulled the book free. "Not to my eyes. Wise and knowledgeable, but never frail." The portrait blushed softly under her praise as Lillian placed the book on the desk and opened it, seeing the text was in Futhark. She eventually found the so-called ritual, her heart growing still. "Salazar…, this sounds less like a ritual and more… like a suicide pact. I also don't have a soulmate. Believe me, I tried the binding ritual and it failed miserably."

Waving the comment away, Salazar spoke up. "The point of the ritual is to undo time as a last resort. When death is the only conclusion and the outcome is undesired, two soulmates can strip back time and return to a moment suitable for the changes to occur, within the lifetime of one or the other. As for you not having a soulmate… that is technically only half true. You are carrying a piece of a soul on you that isn't yours. As a pseudo soulmate bond, it should suffice." Lillian turned to him, incredulous. "Should? You do realize we are talking just a fragment, right? Besides, you glossed over how we would both be dying to achieve this!" Salazar shrugged. "As it stands, you are both likely to be dead soon. Would you rather have a chance at fixing everything or not?" Lillian muttered under her breath as she turned away from him. "Maybe you have gone senile." Salazar glared at her. "I heard that. Regardless, this seems like your best bet and it fits with what your Seer described. Do you not trust her judgment?" Lillian clamped her mouth shut. She looked down at the pages of the book, reading over the intended effect of the ritual. She blush a little at one of the requirements, her right hand going over her scar.

The bright smile of her dearest friend flashed through her mind, as well as the nervous looks of all the students who had followed her example since she started Hogwarts. So many of them were orphans of two senseless wars pushed forward by men who were either dead or mostly inconsiderate to the losses their world was suffering. If this ritual worked… that could all be fixed. Luna could have her mother raise her at her father's side, the children who lost their parents to Azkaban or a Killing Curse could know what it's like to live in a family. Including herself. Though she didn't care much about the Potters, Sirius had been adamant that they loved her. If this worked… they would all have a second chance at a better life. At the same time… she could be erasing all those lives from existence. Everyone who was ever born from the moment she went back in time to up until now… they would all be gone. Erased from history. All because of her. Lilith clenched her fist. "Ancestor… are you sure about this ritual? If I do this, so many lives will be gone. Erased. All because of me." Salazar's face softened. "I am. This ritual was given to me by a friend whom I trusted with my life. I believe they gave it to me for a reason. As my last two heirs, you and Riddle are all that remains of my family. This must be the moment when time must be peeled back for the mistakes to be corrected. For the sake of the world beyond the walls of Hogwarts, for the House of Slytherin, but most importantly to me, for your sake. Please, Trust me."

Taking a deep breath as she buried her reservations, Lillian nodded. "Very well. Anything else I should know before I start carrying out the preparations?" Salazar rubbed his chin. "Only that the bond between you two will be severed by the ritual. Permanently. That is the price to be paid. As its origin was a Horcrux, it should cleanse you of the fragment. Usually, the two of you should have your memories intact, but with the amount of damage that my foolish Heir inflicted on his soul, any memories he has will be fragmented and seem almost like a dream." Lillian thought about the man she saw through her mind, the reason for the visions being clear to her now, the man she met a few times in passing and the boy she briefly got to know when she found his Diary discarded in the girl's bathroom. "That might be a blessing, actually. He needs time to be a better person… And I am going to give it to him." Seeing the need to carve a great many runes onto her body, Lillian stripped down, swallowed an anesthetic and got to work. Wearing a simple robe afterwards, she redirected the scrying mirror to watch for Voldemort's current position, praying she wasn't too late. She watched as he slaughtered the two Golden Boys of Gryffindor. The Golden Girl was nowhere to be found, probably as a precaution, which only served to bolster Lillian's fears. The Order would know about the Horcrux from her, at the very least. She had no choice but to go with this insanity. Lillian watched as Voldemort slowly descended the stairs towards the Dungeons and took a moment to center herself. They had one chance. One single chance to fix everything, starting with Tom Riddle's mental decline. For both their sakes, the ritual had to work.

Lillian looked up at her ancestor's portrait and ran her hand softly against the canvas. "Goodbye Salazar. If everything works, I might just meet you once again for the first time. I just want to say… thank you… for believing in me. If it wasn't for you and Luna, I don't think I would have made it these past two years." Salazar bowed his head. "Goodbye, Lillian. You were a most pleasant student and a worthy Heir to the Slytherin name. Whatever happens, I hope you find some measure of happiness. For both you and my wayward Heir." Taking a deep breath, Lillian walked out of the Chamber of Secrets, hidden under her family's Invisibility Cloak. She found Voldemort slumped against a wall, his life fading away as she checked his pulse. She stared into his red eyes, finding herself unafraid of them. She had never been afraid of them. "We don't have much time. What I am about to do will give us both a second chance at life. I don't know if you will remember everything, with your soul as fragmented as it is, but please, do try to be better Tom. And if you are willing… I will be there to help you on your way." She leaned forward and kissed the dying man, tears and blood covering her lips, as she placed her left hand over Voldemort's heart, before plunging her ritual knife through both. She felt both their magics react, her carved skin growing warm as the sigils glowed, before her sight turned into an endless sea of white.

Lilith opened her eyes and stared at the familiar canopy of the Slytherin dorm beds, her body still aching from her episode the night prior. Struggling to turn over and look at the bedside table, she reached out and felt around with her hand until she found the candle, before she touched the wick. "Ignis." The feel of her magic struggling to run through her body never ceased to be a source of annoyance, but in time the magic focused on her fingertips and the wick ignited. Sighing to herself, she sat on the edge of the bed, stretching her arms above her head before looking at her mechanical clock on the bedside table. It was five in the bloody morning. Seeing as getting any more time to sleep was unlikely, Lilith stood up and changed into her school uniform, replacing the usual sweater with a black vest, before looking over the classes she would have in the day ahead. Storing her books in an extended bag, she looped the strap over her head and made for the door, making sure her wards were still in place. Sensing she wasn't the only person awake, old habits kicked in. Pulling out her Invisibility Cloak and hiding beneath it, followed by noise dampening spells on her person, Lilith walked out into corridors that lead to the Slytherin Common Room.

The group of students currently in the Common Room were mostly older students, a few wearing their Prefect Badges, though Lilith did notice that the three Blacks were absent. She found a safe enough corner of the room and waited. Sure enough, in a few minutes, Valerio Rosier entered the room and sat at the main sofa, claiming his position as King. Lilith had to restrain her magic, as she could see the family relationship between Valerio and Vinda. The favorite lieutenant of Grindelwald, Vinda Rosier's appearance was permanently etched into her mind, along with the green flash that followed soon after. "So, Rosier, what did you want to talk about?" Valerio leaned forward to address everyone. "My father doesn't like the language coming out of the other members of the Dark Faction, and neither do our allies in the Continent. I have been asked to try and… persuade the Heirs and Heiress and to remind them that the Dark needs to stand united behind Grindelwald." A boy that reminded Lilith too much of Goyle spoke up. "That may be, but you heard the Headmaster. Any threats or acts of violence could see us all expelled. And then what?" Valerio waved the comment off. "My father can pressure the old man to rescind any punishments. Besides, word is Beauxbatons has capitulated to Grindelwald. The chateau will be under constant guard and welcoming of his supporters."

The student's chatted amongst themselves when a girl chimed in. "We should try and keep it light at first. Anything too aggressive too soon will start getting the Staff on edge around us." Valerio nodded and smiled. "True, but I have an idea. Seeing as today is the first day of classes, how about we go and break in the first, second and third years. None of them have a clue as to how to ward their rooms safely yet. They will be easy pickings. Any thoughts on what spells we can use that won't cause any permanent damage?" Lilith's eyes narrowed as she made her way to the stairs that lead to the dorms. It was the same. Back in her first year, several of the Prefects and the upperclassmen would bully the kids into obedience. Acting on instinct, Lilith made her way to the first year boy dorms and pulled out a piece of chalk, connecting it to her magic via a drop of blood, before she began to draw runic circles on the doors, using a silencing spell to give the kids a chance to sleep. She barely finished the last one of the third year boys before she heard Rosier's sycophants cursing voices come up the stairs. She managed to slip past them through a hidden passage and started warding the girls' rooms, before smiling to herself as the last ward activated. She could more clearly hear the cursing coming from the dorms as she made her way to the Common Room door, before caressing the snake head above the handle. ~"Taste my blood and grant me the freedom to move silently."~ A bite later and the door opened, without the need for a password.

Taking a slight detour, Lilith made it to the outside Courtyard, where she pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of her, storing it into her bag. Taking deep breaths of the pleasant air made a smile return to her face. She was home. It wasn't Dumbledore's bastion, Voldemort's madhouse or Umbridge's nightmare. It was Hogwarts. Hogwarts in its true and pure form, as close as she would get to her Ancestor's dream. The thought of Salazar made Lilith's thoughts race. She could head into the Chamber, protect the Basilisk and talk to her mentor all over again. She had the time later in the night, and her Cloak was beyond anyone's ability to pierce through. But should she? Remembering how jealous and obsessive the Tom of the Diary had been, Lilith decided it would be best to let him enter the Chamber first. If she could be with him, the better. The question was, how to get on Tom's good side. According to the Diary, Dumbledore had it out for him the moment his nature as a Parselmouth was revealed. The Pureblood bastards would begrudge him his name, his lack of wealth and his ignorance of his bloodline. Only his looks and intelligence would matter to them. But would appealing to those aspects of his nature work for her? Probably not.

Making her way to the Great Hall, Lilith thought about how else she could approach Tom, without revealing too much about herself or her intentions. She needed to help him, but the fact he was a stubborn prick meant he had to help himself first. Feeling her stomach grumble, Lilith sighed and decided to leave the scheming for later. Finding the tables empty of food, Lilith did the same as a few other early birds and sat down at her House table, before pulling a book out, her eyes drifting over the pages. Ever since her arrival at this time period, her Magic had been entirely uncooperative. Since all ways to fix the issue were currently beyond her knowledge, she had decided to study how else she could use magic to her advantage, without the need for a wand. A fourth year reading up on Enchantments would certainly draw attention but she didn't care. She already sat through all the core classes before, she would be damned if she sat through them again without spending that time on something constructive. Her contacts in Switzerland had already provided some nice materials for her to work with and were hard at work making the remaining parts. That just left the magical components, the thing that had stumped everyone before her. Time to see if she could make something about the old theoretical concept that so many abandoned way too easily.

"Heir Rosier, you are looking particularly dashing today. I particularly love what you have done with your hair." Tom raised an eyebrow at the look Rosier gave to Alphard as he and the other Blacks walked into the Common Room, finding several of their classmates sitting on the sofas with their hair dyed puke yellow. It was not a good look for any of them. He watched as some of the upperclassmen tried and failed to dispel the effects, before they themselves found that their eyebrows were now yellow as well. Cygnus walked out, yawning before he, Lucretia and Walburga looked at everyone over. "What happened to you, Rosier? Did you have a run in with a bucket or did someone refuse to join you in a broom closet?" The laugh from the other students made Rosier's anger slip through into his voice. "Some prankster decided to ward several of the rooms! The moment we made contact with the wards, we collapsed and then this happened!" Rosier pointed at his hair. Alphard rubbed his chin and looked at the people who had their hair dyed. Tom was certain he saw the same thing he did. Every single one of them was known to follow Rosier around. Was this a targeted attack… or…"Has anyone checked on the younger year students?"

The look on the Slytherins with their hair dyed after Alphard's comment betrayed them as the three main Black Prefects stared at them all, with Lucretia heading for the boys' dorms. She came out a few minutes later with a sleepy Orion, the kid rubbing his eyes as he sat between Cygnus and Walburga, who had forced the others to vacate a sofa. Lucretia looked towards Alphard. "You need to check Orion's door. There is something on it." Alphard rubbed his chin before turning to look at Tom. "Care to join me?" Tom raised an eyebrow at the unusual request but he knew better than to ignore it, so Tom followed the two Black's silently as they reached the first year boy dorms. Alphard took out his wand and ran it over the door, before he whistled. "That is a beauty of a ward scheme. I can't even see it's anchor point. Riddle?" Tom sighed but stepped up, drawing his Yew Wand. A sweep over the door made him pause. He tried again. "I can't see it either." Lucretia nodded. "That's what I noticed. I felt it touch me for a second when I gripped the doorknob but nothing happened." Alphard looked towards where the Common Room was. "Yeah, I wonder why that wasn't the case with the others out there."

Tom was about to open the door when he noticed something on the floor. Bending down, he rubbed the white dust just next to the door, seeing no other marks around except for the shoe prints of those who crossed in front of the frame. He stood up and rubbed the dust between his fingers before he smelled it. "Chalk." Alphard turned to him and looked at Tom's fingers, before he swept the door again, his spells silent. A chalk outline of a runic circle appeared on the door, with three circles overlapping each other. Alphard stared at it in shock. "That… wasn't made by a Hogwarts student. These circles are interwoven in a terrifying way. The fact that not all of the runes are actually showing up means the ward itself is protected, probably tied to another ward point with the full configuration on it, with this just working as a relay." Tom looked over the runes that he could see, not recognizing the language. "I have read the fourth year runes book. These are not in it." Alphard nodded. "No, they aren't. I will draw them down and see if Aunt Cassiopeia has any clue. So far, it was harmless to us and to Orion." Lucretia grumbled. "But not to Rosier and the rest. Want to bet they tried to break into the dorms of the younger students?" Alphard shook his head. "That's a sucker's bet."

Deciding that he had already done his part, Tom slipped out of the Common Room and made his way to the Great Hall, his mind spinning in circles. It was well known that the younger students were roughened up a bit on the first day of school within Slytherin. They were brought before the King and Queen and shown how the hierarchy played out. Tom's first year was no different. Someone, however, took offence to that and made it impossible for Rosier, the current King, to do anything. Well, anything but look stupid. The countermeasure was clearly designed to not only humiliate Rosier's group, but to out their actions. With the Blacks having one of their own as a first year, any actions against him by Rosier might start a fight for the Throne. Was that the intention? To weaken Rosier's hold over the Slytherins? If it wasn't, it was certainly going to have that effect now. As he stepped into the Great Hall, he was waved over by Nott and Malfoy. "I take it you saw the damage done to Rosier?" Tom nodded as he sat down, serving himself a modest breakfast. "The Blacks aren't happy. Particularly our fifth year Prefect. The wards were placed to protect Orion, and probably the rest of the younger years."

Malfoy chuckled. "Well, it seems Rosier won't have such a great year. How complicated was the ward?" Tom drank from his glass of water. "Extremely. Alphard Black said that no student could have done it." Malfoy hummed to himself. "No student… or no Hogwarts student?" Tom froze. Of course. Hogwarts was playing host to refugees, two of whom were now in their house, with one of them being from a particularly infamous and reclusive family. "Where is she?" Nott gestured with his head. "She was here before breakfast was served. She has been eating breakfast and reading from that book the whole time." Tom leaned over and looked towards the Austrian redhead, who was munching on a slice of toasted bread. As if feeling their gaze, Lilith von Schwarzwald looked towards them. The three boys stared at her and she stared back, before a soft smile grew on her lips. She turned away from them and returned to her book, as the three looked at each other, pretty certain they knew who had humiliated Rosier. The question was, how long before Rosier figured it out?

"Slytherins! Stand!" Rosier's eyes searched every single face standing in the Slytherin Common Room, probably trying to determine who created the ward scheme earlier in the day. He had to wait till classes ended before calling them all together. Lilith yawned slightly, feeling drained. The combination of both Arithmancy, Runes and Charms on the first day had left Lilith feeling exhausted, especially after her less than pleasant evening fighting back against the effects of her magic. At least the classes for tomorrow promised to be interesting, especially Care for Magical Creatures. Still, while she never shared any of the bias Malfoy and the other's had for Hagrid, she had never been overly fond of how he taught the class. She was hoping to enjoy her time with the current professor and have a better chance at learning about a wider array of Magical Creatures. Lillian had always wanted a Magical Creature as either a pet or a Familiar. Well as long as the pet wasn't a god awful toad or frog. How any witch or wizard owned these as pets was beyond her. Then again… she had thought about getting a poisonous snake as a pet, so maybe they would have served a purpose in keeping her snake fed. Her lack of funds in her first three years at Hogwarts prevented her from buying any pets, unfortunately. When her Godfather finally helped her out, he might have been willing to overlook her House, but he refused to have a snake in his family's townhouse. Bloody Mutt.

Thoughts of Sirius made Lilith's heart ache. He had been really kind and caring of Lillian. The moment he realized she was staying at an Orphanage, he ended any plans to escape for warmer climates and stayed in his family's decrepit Townhouse. The two actually bonded as they went through the trouble of cleaning up the place, with Lillian even managing to win over Walburga's affections, helping to mend her relationship with her son. The time they spent together at Grimmauld were her happiest years. Until he died in the Department of Mysteries. Lilith shook her head, not wanting to think about that night. She did eye the Blacks in the opposite side of the room, the family and their allies and friends standing separate from Rosier. Her decision to humiliate the prick had some satisfying effects, it seemed. If she could steer the Black's away from the Blood Purist and Anti-Muggle agenda of Rosier and his sycophants, then the chances of keeping them closer aligned to the core of the Black Family's ideal were higher. She only had to show them the benefits of sponsoring and growing a loyal base of first generation magicals for them to realize just how much stronger and influential they could be. Too bad she had to wait for the current head to get out of the way. Her Godfather's namesake was nothing like the man Lillian loved as family.

Lilith's vision was blocked as Rosier stood before her. He stared into her eyes and seemed to come to a conclusion as he raised his hand up to strike her. Lilith's initial assessment was correct. The young man was a moron. Her left hand went up and intercepted his slap before her right hand moved forward and cupped his groin. She then proceeded to squeeze. Hard. Rosier's whimper of pain caught everyone by surprise, followed by him falling to his knees. "Is this how a Slytherin King behaves? Terrorizing the young and striking those who protect their housemates? Is this what you aspired to be, Herr Rosier? If it is then I am not surprised. Your Aunt Vinda was just as disinterested in the concepts of respect and decorum. I watched her and her schweine attack and kill my family and their retainers without so much as a declaration of war. So allow me to educate you and those who seem to follow you around like welpen. This is the price of your arrogance. "Qualius."" Screams of pain and agony filled the air as Lilith sent the modified torture curse right into Rosier's family jewels, making everyone flinch, even those that had initially tried to protect him. The curse ended and Lilith allowed him to fall onto the floor, groaning in pain, before she made sure to look at the eyes of everyone in the room.

"I will make this clear. So long as The Rosier Family stands by Grindelwald and supports his actions, I will consider them blood enemies of my family. Beyond that, I was forced to watch as Grindelwald's Hexenmeisters slaughtered innocents whose blood and magic were of equal or greater worth than that of any of the Old Houses. These schweine do not deserve to be respected. They deserve your contempt. I will protect the young and innocent from those who dare to follow in Grindelwald's footsteps. I will fight back against those that dare to behave against the customs of our Magical Communities. I will leave up to you all to decide where you end up. If by the time we graduate the war is still ongoing, then know this. Any who serve by Grindelwald's side will die at my hands. I didn't survive the death of my family to cower or flee. I will fight back with everything I have. If you want years of peace within the Castle, then stay out of my way and behave yourselves as civilized people." Lilith glared down at the unmoving Rosier before she walked out towards the exit of the Common Room, her magic painfully maintained at the tip of her fingers just in case someone tried to strike her from behind. No one dared.

"... well, now we know why she fought with the Hat. That Witch has a Slytherin's cunning and a Gryffindor's bravery." Tom didn't bother to disagree with Alphard as his eyes followed Lilith von Schwarzwald out of the Common Room entrance. He did notice Walburga talking to her younger brother in hushed tones before he nodded, all the while Lucretia hugged Orion from behind. His earlier assessment seemed to have been correct. There was no need for posturing or theatrics for the Austrian refugee. She knew how to fight to protect herself. Her actions today alone had shifted the power of the students of Slytherin House. With her declaration and swift disarming of Rosier, his image as untouchable was gone. Worst yet, if the Blood Feud comment was real, it was probably registered with the Wizengamot or the ICW, meaning she had the right to take aggressive action the moment an attempt was made against her. Those who followed Rosier simply because he was the King of Slytherin would be thinking carefully about where their allegiances would fall now. He could already see the upper years looking around, with Cygnus, Lucretia and Walburga being their obvious points of interest. As the three of them were the current fifth and sixth year Prefects, as well as the oldest members of a politically powerful family, they were the prime candidates to replace Rosier.

Wishing to avoid telegraphing too much of his own intentions, Tom remained still, his eyes searching the room as it slowly emptied out, with Travers, Rosier's roommate, pulling his unconscious friend towards their dorm as the others started heading to their own rooms, before slowly making his way out of the Common Room. Trying to be as silent and careful as possible, he checked the nearby sections of the Dungeons, but found nothing. It was only after giving up and returning to the Common Room hidden entrance that he heard something. Following the soft sound of music, he made his way up the stairs of the private Slytherin Owlery, where he managed to spy on Lilith. She was sitting atop the ledge, one knee bent against her chest, as Tom saw what looked to be a pocket watch held out in her open hand. Yet the sound of a music box was clear enough in the air, so Tom surmised it was coming from the object. The song felt melancholic to him, yet strangely familiar. Did he hear a proper rendition of it through a radio once back at the Orphanage? During the long and bitter winters, it was common enough for the children of the orphanage to be gathered together into a central chamber.

These impromptu sleeping arrangements were a known indicator that the Orphanage was low on fuel for the main boiler in the basement. The Orphanage kept an emergency supply of wood to use in the large chimney, gathering the kids to sleep around it when there was no other choice. On those days, he remembered some of the Carers bringing out a radio, through which they would play some music for the kids. It was one of the few times that Tom didn't mind being in the company of others. He could close his eyes and listen to the music, feeling it wash over him, calming him in ways he had long forgotten. Without even realizing it, he had done the same now, letting the music fill his mind and wash away his thoughts and feelings. Only the feeling of melancholy the music elicited remained. Eventually the track seemed to reach its end as the music stopped, snapping Tom out of his moment of peace. "It's Chopin's Nocturne, Opus 2 number 9, if you are interested." Tom froze for a second before Lilith spoke again, putting her pocket watch away. "My mother studied music as a child and learned to play it on the piano. I, sadly, wasn't able to match her skill." Tom swallowed and walked out into the open. "My apologies for eavesdropping."

Lilith waved the comment off. "It's fine. Did you need to use the Owlery?" Tom shook his head before looking at her. Those beautiful green eyes made something in his heart ache. What was this feeling? Wishing not to dwell on it, he cleared his throat. "I imagine that was an expensive gift." Lilith nodded though she lowered her eyes. "It was. It's one of the few things I managed to save. On the night when my world was stripped away from me." Tom winced, recognizing he made an insensitive remark. Wealthy or not, this girl had lost her entire family and was forced to flee to Britain to finish her education. "I am sorry, that was insensitive of me." Lilith seemed to look him over. He resisted frowning when her face seemed to brighten. "Again, it is fine. I just needed a moment to cool off. Controlling my emotions… is not as easy as it once was." Tom nodded softly as Lilith stood up and straightened her skirt. "I don't believe we have been introduced, der Herr…?" Tom bowed his head softly. "Tom Riddle." He watched as she lowered her head. "Lilith von Schwarzwald. Danke, for your company." Tom frowned. "I didn't do anything." Lilith nodded as she approached him, her hands behind her back. "Exactly. Do you think the rest of your fellow housemates would have been as kind as to allow me a moment to myself?"

Tom smirked a little. "No, I don't believe they would have been as considerate. You are welcomed, my lady." Lilith's giggle made Tom's heart feel so light. "See? So I was fortunate that you were the one to come find me. I assume I am out past curfew?" Tom thought for a second and nodded. "You are, though a bit of leeway is given to those who need to use the Owleries." Lilith hummed to herself. "Do you need to use the Owlery or would you care to escort me?" Tom froze. If he escorted her, he would be following tradition and gaining her favor. On the other hand, allowing her to return alone would keep him seperate from her actions earlier, allowing a measure of neutrality in the coming conflict, though Alphard seemed to be interested in ruining that for him by involving him earlier. What to do… "Ahh, my actions earlier would have negative repercussions for if you escorted me, wouldn't they? My apologies. I was raised to observe decorum and respect for others first, politics second. Would you prefer an alternative? I would be willing to go ahead of you and you could follow at some distance, acting as a shadow. It should be a satisfying alternative if escorting me is too politically inappropriate for you."

Stepping past him, Lilith went down the stairs as a silent Tom calculated her amendment and agreed. He followed some distance behind as she walked through the corridors, before reaching the Hidden Entrance. "Salazar." The stone blocks retreated into the wall and Lilith nodded at him before descending. Tom eventually returned to his part of the dorm, took a shower in the shared bathroom on his floor and returned to his room. As he finished dressing himself for the night, he dropped onto the bed and thought about earlier. The politics of Slytherin were shifting. Rosier would be challenged and could eventually lose the throne, making way for the Blacks. There was clearly some connection between von Schwarzwald and the Blacks, potentially a familial relationship that hadn't been announced in the open. The Blacks were known to marry politically powerful families with either Neutral or Dark inclinations. The von Schwarzwald family would have been a perfect choice. So was she acting on her own or was she acting in concert with the Blacks? Or was it possible that she was acting freely, intent on aiding the Blacks, without them being aware of it? There were a lot of unknowns. One thing was certain though. If he wanted to move up the Slytherin power structure, he would have to pick a side. And it would have to be soon, before the decision was taken away from him.

Chapter 3: Perspectives on Lessons

Lillian coughed as she tried to open her eyes, before the smoke filling the room made her cough even harder. Turning over, she looked at her surroundings through squinted, watery eyes, not recognizing where she was. Except… she did. This was her room in her family's home. Feeling around for a cloth to cover her face to block out the smoke, she frowned as she found the familiar feeling of the Potter Invisibility Cloak. She had carried the cloak with her when she went to carry out the ritual spell that would… send her back in time. Covering her face with the cloak, she looked around again, seeing as smoke entered the room through the open door. Closing it quickly gave her a moment to breathe, before she was instantly drawn to her bedside table, looking at a picture that rested next to a pocket watch, stepping past a snapped wand. The frame showed her playing with a Schattenwolf cub as her parents looked on, her red hair tied in a braid but looking gray due to the lack of color on the photograph. Except Lillian never lived with her parents and she didn't have red hair. Voldemort had killed the-… Images suddenly assaulted Lillian as she watched the events of 1981, reliving the fragmented memory of the night she and Neville were attacked as one year olds. The memory shifted, showing a dark haired woman dressed in black and wearing a familiar looking uniform before she aimed her wand at Lilith's head and cast the Killing Curse.

Lilith… Lilith von Schwarzwald. That was her name. Except her name was also Lillian Potter. Lilith gripped her head in pain before hearing a loud, groaning sound that seemed to emanate from all around her. She felt the floor beneath her buckle and tip down slightly, her face being blasted with smoke once more. Gripping the cloak and catching the pocket watch that slipped from the top of the tipped bedside table, Lilith closed her eyes and thought about the one place she could think of that was safe for her to be at this moment in time. After her seventeenth birthday, she had checked out what she could inherit and the properties that came with the inheritance, with the help of the Goblins of Gringotts. One particular property had stood out to her. Abandoned and kept in stasis, the Peverell Estate in the Welsh countryside had been surprisingly massive. It was in need of a lot of love and care but Lillian had been planning to work on it as soon as she was free from Hogwarts and away from the current conflict. With the von Schwarzwald Manor going up in flames, the derelict Peverell Ancestral Home seemed like an appropriate place to seek shelter until she could figure out what was going on. Feeling the massive drain on her magic that such a long distance Apparition would require, followed by the familiar sensation of being sucked into straw, Lilith thought she was safe. The moment she felt her feet touch the ground, with wards wrapping around her, pressing her into the ground and binding her in place as she appeared within the Peverell Manor, she sighed in resignation. Typical.

Finding herself in the familiar looking library of the Peverell Estate, she frowned as she looked around. The place… looked clean. That wasn't right. The Peverells had been extinct for centuries. Did she screw up the ritual or did she get dumped out in the twelfth century after apparating? The sound of heavy footsteps stopping just outside of her range of sight stilled her errant thoughts. "Who are you? How did you know about this place?" Lillian tried to answer but her thoughts were suddenly jumbled. Did Lilith have any relations to the Peverells? Would it be safe to tell this person about Lillian going back in time? Lilith bit her cheek, getting her mind to focus on the pain before she spoke up. "I… was told about this place… by Gringotts. They said I could inherit it by birthright. That it was abandoned." The footsteps came closer. "I highly doubt that. Lothbrok and I are well acquainted and he knows not to reveal anything regarding the family's assets. Try again." Lilith tried to think on what to say, trying her best not to give anything important away. "Look… my family was just attacked… by Grindelwald's soldiers. I was the only one to get out. This place was supposed to be safe and abandoned. I don't know who you are." Two pairs of boots stopped right in front of her as the man bent down and lifted her up by her shirt. Two bright blue eyes stared back at her. "What… is… your… name?"

Lilith swallowed as she thought that maybe telling this guy the truth might be worth it, if it saved her from dying this instant, since dying right now would definitely make her whole trip through time pointless. "My name's Lillian Pot… ahhhhh!" Pain shot through her body as arcs of green and red light danced across her skin. The man dropped her unceremoniously onto the ground as the pain continued to build up inside of her, her skin feeling as if it was being split open in places by hot knives. She could already taste blood in her mouth and her tongue felt tender. "Please… stop… it!" The man pressed a wand to her neck. "I am not the one doing this. Something else is going on. It almost looks like… like there are two magical signatures inside of you." Something clicked in Lilith's head as reality sunk in. As the pain started to impair her ability to speak, she screamed. "Salazar… you bastard… you… could have warned me! Ahhhhh!" Lilith grinded her teeth as she tried to curl into herself before her eyes focused on the man's face. Tears raced down her face as thoughts of Hogwarts, Lillian's dearest friend and her mentor, went to war with thoughts of an Austrian Estate left in ruins, a family as old as time gone forever. She was alone. In every conceivable way, she was utterly alone. "Please… help… me. I have… nowhere else to go… Please…" The man sighed and aimed his wand at her face. A flash of red light was the last thing she knew of that day's events. She was grateful too, since it also happened to end her pain when she collapsed. Small favors and all.

"Very well, can anyone go over with me the signs of Lycanthropy? Miss McGonagall?" Lilith sighed as she flipped the page, the book itself covering ways to enchant an object with magic and turn it into a ward's energy source. Wards were a frustrating thing to deal with. On one hand you could cast a few without a wardstone using a wand or other medium, making them harder to detect. On the other hand, you could anchor it to an object and have it sustained for longer by ambient magic from the ley lines, or from the magic of the wards primary maker, but the latter had the caster remain within proximity of the object at all times to charge it. Lilith had trouble understanding how a witch or wizard could themselves either generate magic continuously, or syphon it from another source, while everything else seemed to require an external source of magic. Based on ancient texts and discussions with Salazar, the former was somewhat true, but the later was far more important. According to him, magic had been far more powerful in a time he knew as the Age of Gods, also called the age of the Old Religion. Most of the magical creatures that existed today or that were long extinct were born from the effects of ambient magic in those early days, meaning that magic was something inherent to the world. Sometime after the dawn of civilization, that began to change and magic entered a period of decline before reaching a plateau sometime around the age when Hogwarts was constructed.

If magic had been capable of enhancing biological creatures, potentially even doing the same to humans in the past, and all magical creatures still retained their magic millennia later, then that had to mean that a sustainable source of magic had to be out there, somewhere, beyond the limitations of the leylines. But how to tap into it and make use of it without the limitations of ley lines and magical fonts? Lilith sighed, not finding what she was looking for in the text. Not being able to access magic was her current problem. Or rather, access her magics. Because transferring one's soul into a recently vacated body across space and time wasn't something that should have been possible, it was made all the more complicated when she discovered that Lilith and Lillian's magics were both inside of her. And neither was happy sharing the same real estate. Her physical episodes of pain were moments when both magics tried to find some sort of equilibrium and failed miserably. Her ally and Gringotts were both clear that an equilibrium should occur naturally and that both magics should meld into one. Unfortunately, there wasn't an expected time when this would happen. Eventually really was a shit description concerning the passage of time. "Miss Schwarzwald, could you describe the methods that a Werewolf could be incapacitated?" Lilith looked up at the expectant face of Professor Merrythought, knowing that others were looking at her. Lilith ran the question through her head. "Which form of Lycanthropy are you referring to, professor?"

Galatea seemed stunned for a second. "Explain." Lilith raised up her hand. "What Europeans call a Werewolf is unfortunately too broad of a term. If you look at the various cultures of the world, you can see that each region has their own unique version of Lycanthropy, though Asia has a higher degree of Ailuranthropy. In MACUSA, the native populations have what are known as Dogmen and Skinwalkers, all Lycanthropes. The Dogmen are a permanent transformation done willingly by the natives that allows them to retain a high degree of human intelligence, while the Skinwalkers are closer to our society's concept of Animagi, using pelts and rituals to change their form at will. In the southern regions of North America you will also find the Rougarou, which is a human permanently turned into a Lycanthrope that has lost all traces of their humanity. The South American Hemisphere has its own varieties, one called Lobizon. Even if you narrowed down the scope to Europe alone, you will find Lycanthropes akin to Animagi in the Scandinavian Region, and two varieties of Lycanthropes in Central Europe, one descending from the Germanic curses that can turn a person into a werewolf only on the full moon, another that makes them permanently werewolves and binds them into an almost ethereal state to be unleashed at a moment's notice. Finally there are the Lycans, descendants of the wolf-human hybrids of Ancient Greece, who can change forms at will."

Lilith continued. "Subduing any of these is as complicated as attempting to subdue any of the varieties of dragons. Some like the Morbach Shadow Beast can be restrained by a simple ritual, but are otherwise impervious to harm, including by silver or even a Killing Curse. Your typical cursed Werewolves, which I believe are the most common breed found within Britain, are susceptible to silver but resistant to magic up to a certain degree. Lycans, however, have a higher resistance to silver and physical harm, though a lower resistance to magic. I could go over the other methods to bind them into a human or wolf form but then we would be here all day." The classroom turned silent until Professor Merrythought cleared her throat. "Yes, quite. 25 points to Slytherin for such a detailed explanation." Lilith returned to her book and continued reading as the Professor carried on with her class, before the bell rang. "Miss Schwarzwald, a moment please." Lilith stored her book into her bag and approached the Professor, who was sitting behind her desk. Galatea Merrythought's face showed traces of magical scars not having healed adequately, signs of her past profession as an Auror. Still, her short brown hair showed a few strands of gray, with the woman's light brown eyes almost seeming to be amber in color. For someone advanced in age, she seemed to be in better condition than most former Aurors. "Yes, Professor?"

Merrythought sat back and tapped her fingers on the desk. "I take it you weren't educated at Beauxbatons?" Lilith shook her head. "My family had a bit of a row with the Beauxbatons Academy over their decision to eliminate the Dark Arts course. I was homeschooled." Galatea nodded in understanding. "I see. How far ahead would you say you are in the Defence Against… well, just Defence in general." Lilith thought for a second. "I have a far more detailed understanding of how the Dark Arts work and their counters than probably a seventh year student, though whether or not my knowledge would be admissible within OWL and NEWT evaluations is difficult to say." Galatea sighed. "Meaning it would be best that you continue studying for this class as normal, to at least understand what the examinations entail." Lilith nodded. "That was the plan, yes." Galatea looked at her with a degree of sympathy. "And as for the practical aspects of the course? I read Teresa's notice to all members of the staff." Lilith sighed. "Every Healer says the same thing. Wait and see. I am trying out an alternative means of Defence, one that doesn't rely on my ability to perform magic on the spot with the use of a wand. Until I have that alternative available, I am afraid any spells I use will be hampered. Hence why I didn't take your Dueling elective."

Seeing the time, Merrythought wrote down a small permission slip and passed it to Lilith as she stood up. "Very well. As long as you arrive at my class knowing the subject matter and aren't being disruptive, then I see no further issue. I will evaluate your practical knowledge without trying to aggravate your condition. You may go on to your next class, Miss Schwarzwald." Lillith took the piece of parchment. "Thank you, Professor. Also, I can understand that my last name is a bit convoluted for English speakers, but It's officially von Schwarzwald. Removing the von makes it sound as if you are referring to the forest and mountain region from which our name is derived, though we haven't called that region our family seat for millennia. I have no issue if you and others address me as Schwarzwald but please be careful with any official documents." Galatea nodded as second year students started entering the classroom. "I will keep that in mind, Miss von Schwarzwald. Have a good day." Lilith bowed her head. "Danke, Professor." Lilith left the classroom, before checking her copy of the schedule, closing her eyes and restraining a curse, as she made her way down to the first floor. Her next class would certainly test her patience.

Tom watched as Lilith von Schwarzwald entered and approached the Deputy Headmaster, before handing him a bit of parchment. Looking it over, Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. Take a seat, Miss Schwarzwald." He watched her tense for a second before nodding and walking past Tom, taking the seat to his right. He frowned for a second when he watched her pull out an old massive text that was wrapped in dark brown leather, with no header on the cover. He was certain that wasn't the Transfiguration textbook. Then again, if her performance in Defence was anything to go by, then the chances she was already ahead of the other students in Transfiguration seemed high. Up at the front of the class, Professor Dumbledore clapped his hands and smiled at the students. "Welcome back to another year of Transfiguration. Today we will be going over a bit of a refresher. Before you is a ceramic teapot. Please transfigure it into a glass vase. I hope I don't have to repeat the incantation, as it was part of your examinations last year. You may begin while I go over the focus of this year's Transfiguration class. Now, we have gone over animate to inanimate Transfiguration in these past few years, as well as vice versa. This year, we will be focusing on Animate to Animate transformations. For example…"

Tuning out Dumbledore's lecture for a second, Tom aimed his Yew Wand at the teapot in front of him, closed his eyes and envisioned the vase he desired. "Ollam at Vasa." Tom sat back and smiled as his teapot was turned into an ornate glass vase with intersecting snakes and Slytherin's coat of arms on it. He pulled open his notebook and started writing Dumbledore's summation of the class' focus for the year, before he peered to his right. He frowned as it seemed Lilith was repeating the spell over and over silently without her wand, before she reached out and touched the teapot with her hands. He watched as her brow furrowed in concentration as she kept muttering the spell over and over again, the teapot morphing into a simple glass vase, though it had a shape as if the glass was twisted while it was malleable. A simple but elegant design. It wasn't until it's shape was finalized that Lilith released the vase and her lips stopped moving. After she took a few deep breaths, she moved the vase away from the center of her area and returned to reading her book, her wand left on the table beside the book. Tom went back to his notebook, writing down Dumbledore's reading assignment, even as his mind worked to understand what he just saw.

In the last two days, Lilith von Schwarzwald had only ever used magic wandlessly and with a clear emphasis on physical contact. While he was aware of wandless magic being quite real, as he himself was proficient in causing pain and even conjuring flames on the palm of his hands, translating wand based spells to a wandless form had proven to be difficult for him. Yet she did it, though it was obviously not without its drawbacks. The slow and methodical concentration needed to get the spell to work wasn't something he would consider worth the effort. So why do the Transfiguration the way that Lilith carried it out? He looked towards the wand on the table, frowning a little as he moved his hand to dip his quill in the inkwell. The moment his hand got close to Lilith's wand, he noticed a familiar sense of magic. That was odd. Reaching down with his right hand, he touched his own Yew Wand, getting a similar reaction. Were their wands similar enough that he could use her's? He knew that wasn't all that uncommon, but to be able to use a wand as effectively as one's own was the difficult part. Cygnus and Walburga were known to switch wands a few times, making them a rarity in Slytherin House. If her wand was compatible with him, what did that tell him about its owner? Were they kindred spirits? Is that why her presence felt so… calming to him? Tom didn't know for sure, but it certainly piqued his interest.

As the Professor inspected everyone's work, he, like always, looked over Tom's vase, nodded silently and moved on. Dumbledore had been reluctant to offer him any show of appreciation or recognition of his work, which greatly irritated Tom. Didn't Dumbledore understand that his work was made to this level of detail to prove himself? Didn't he understand that Tom wanted Dumbledore to acknowledge him, after all the effort the man went through to keep tabs on him? Tom clenched his fist and swallowed his pride. One day he would get the bastard to acknowledge him. One day. "Miss Schwarzwald, this is an excellent design of a vase. However, I couldn't help but notice that you used your hands to use the spell. I wish to see you use the spell with your wand, as Transfiguration is a necessary course for getting a wand certification. Please try it now." Tom froze as he watched Dumbledore reverse the Transfiguration right in front of Lilith, his eyes fixed on her. He watched as she clenched and unclenched her jaw, before taking the wand into her left hand. He frowned as two arcs of light danced over the wood, one red and one green. She did the same as before, muttering the spell repeatedly, before Dumbledore spoke up. "Miss Schwartzwald, that isn't how you cast a spell. I am certain someone of your education knows that."

Tom felt his skin flush. The glare Lilith sent to the Deputy Headmaster was one he had never seen on anyone else's face. There was anger there that made him think that the two knew each other for more than just a few days. Did her meetings over the summer to be permitted into the school involve him and resulted in some clear bitterness? Lilith seemed to just ignore him and continued the muttering until Dumbledore sighed. "If you aren't capable of following instructions, Miss Schwarzwald, you will not be able to advance well in this class. 15 points from Slytherin." Dumbledore walked away from their desk and returned to the front of the class. "Now, let's get back on track. I want you all to read chapters 2 and 3 of your textbooks for the next class and write down what you see as the benefits of animate to animate Transfiguration and the difficulties that might arise in the moment of casting the spell. Now, let's go over the importance of why this type of magic doesn't violate Gamp's Law. As you all know, Gamp's law states that magic cannot…" Tom kept his attention on Dumbledore, the man clearly trying to convey that what had happened was nothing of consequence. That was as far as possible from the truth in Tom's mind.

Dumbledore continued his lecture until the bell rang, with Tom storing his materials away and allowing Lilith to leave before him. He followed behind her silently for several corridors until she stopped. "Is there a reason you are shadowing me, Herr Riddle?" Tom blinked for a second before feeling his skin warm at the way she addressed him. "I was curious if you are alright." She turned around and searched his face, making him frown a little as she smiled softly, apparently liking what she saw, though he was certain his appearance wasn't giving anything away. "Danke for your concern, Herr Riddle. I am afraid that my issues on this matter are private. Perhaps I may share them with you later, when we can be certain as to what we both gain from each other's trust." Tom smiled softly. "I would like that. Though I am curious as to where you were going. Binn's history classroom is on the next floor above a few corridors away." Lilith looked around, surprise on her face before she blushed in embarrassment. "Ah, right. I might have been thinking of other things. Would you be willing to escort me?" Tom directed her to the nearest set of stairs, walking close to her side. Whatever her end goal might be, she was no friend of Dumbledore's. That alone was worth him taking a little risk.

"Ah, Miss von Schwarzwald. Come in, come in." Lilith entered Horace Slughorn's office, her eyes seeing echoes of what the place looked like under Severus Snape's tenure. The two men clearly shared a sense of decor, their shelves containing either some really rare and dangerous potions, or equally rare and preserved ingredients. Though Snape also stored a great many texts on the Dark Arts in his bookshelves. Lilith did spot a few texts that weren't as… benign as she would have expected from the man she first met in her sixth year. Her eyes stopped for a second on what looked to be a chicken leg, though the scales on the thigh were a lot different from what any ordinary avian had. "Is that a Cockatrice leg?" The young man in formal clothes followed her line of sight. "Ohh hoo, have you seen a cockatrice first hand or have you only seen it within your textbooks, miss?" Lilith thought about both of her lifetimes. "I believe I saw one at the von Schwarzwald Estate, though it wasn't ours. My grandmother was a Potioneer and had decided to dedicate her final years to the craft. She declined to buy the cockatrice offered to her by a traveling merchant as it was far too young. One must preserve the magical species of the world, before we endanger them with our pride and greed." Slughorn nodded. "A most wise outlook. She sounds like a wonderful woman."

Lilith chuckled lightly, but with some sadness in her tone. "She was, though a bit strict for what little time I knew her. Then again, some measure of strictness is to be expected out of a Potions Master. Discipline is the only thing that separates your kind from a successful brew… or a face full of superheated ingredients. I assume that a matter of discipline is why you summoned me here tonight, Professor?" Slughorn motioned with his hand for her to take a seat. As soon as Lilith was seated, Horace spoke up. "I am afraid that is correct. Several of my Prefects informed me of what occurred yesterday evening. Miss von Schwarzwald, we do not tolerate violence and threats between our students." Lilith leaned back. "Are you certain? Or is it that you don't tolerate it when it's the students fighting back to protect themselves." Slughorn frowned. "My Prefects were quite clear that you initiated the attack." Lilith chuckled. "Oh no, Valerio Rosier initiated a physical attack against me. I merely intercepted it and retaliated in kind. I know three Prefects who can verify my actions." Slughorn sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I see. And was it necessary? To strike back?" Lilith shrugged her shoulders. "Sir, do you know why the war has deteriorated the way it has? I am certain some people will say it was Grindelwald's genius, and some of that might be true, but do you know why the war is the way it is now?"

Horace shook his head. "I am afraid I do not keep up with the war all that much." Lilith sighed. Typical British wizard. Too sure of their sense of safety to not be concerned with the dangers that a war in the Continent presents to Britain. "Part of the reason why the German army is as widespread with its conquests currently is due to how European nations decided to react to their initial confrontations. The invasions of my home and Czechoslovakia were allowed to happen by the greater military powers because they were certain that the Germans would stop. That they wouldn't dare to test the might of the Allies that had crushed them nearly a quarter of a century ago. But, because the Allies did nothing, because no actions were taken to penalize the Germans, they had no incentive to stop. Poland fell right after to the Germans and the Soviets and the war started in earnest. By then it was too late. Germany had acquired a taste for violence and had developed its military strength to be enough to counter the Allies. France fell within a month and a half and Norway soon followed. This war could have been slowed down, or have even been prevented if the Allies had taken a more aggressive stance against the ambitions of men bent on pursuing their own selfish ambitions. My family, unfortunately, made the same mistake as the Allies. We thought we were safe behind our name and infamy. We thought we could get away with being left alone. We were wrong."

Lilith leaned back and stared at Slughorn in the eyes. "I am not going to repeat the same mistakes. Violence will be met with violence, attempts to spread fear will be countered at every turn by a show of force. I watched my world be destroyed by cowards too afraid to show bullies and criminals that their actions have consequences. I will not let that happen again. So if you wish to give me detention, then remember what I said. If you reward the bully and punish the victim, how soon will the bully take advantage of your cowardice. How soon will they make you and everything you care about a victim of their unrestrained ambition and violence?" The two remained staring at each other, Slughorn trying to retain some semblance of control. "The Rosiers are a powerful family." Lilith raised an eyebrow. "And the Black's aren't? Rosier attempted to target the younger years, which include Orion Black. Which would you rather have, Lord Rosier breathing down your neck, or Sirius and Arcturus Black mobilizing their entire family and their influence within the Wizengamot against you?" Slughorn winced and pulled on the collar of his dress shirt and jacket. "You have a point. I won't give you a detention, but I will ask that you temper your … acts of reciprocation. And please try to keep such matters within Slytherin." Lilith smiled at the man. "Believe me sir, I remember your words during your introduction in the Common Room. Slytherin matters will remain as such… unless the situation is changed beforehand."

Taking her bookbag off the floor, Lillith turned and made for the door before she stopped. She turned around and looked at the Professor. "Before I forget. My grandmother spoke well of a fellow Potioneer. He was apparently a young man who was still at Hogwarts with a preference for sweets, especially chocolates filled with pineapple or even crystallised pineapple, but who had read her book on refined potions materials and had started corresponding with her by letter. She called him one of the brightest minds she ever had the pleasure of writing to. She had intended to give him a manuscript she had handwritten concerning some of her observations as a Potions Master as a gift for when he gained his Mastery but she passed away a few years ago. That book is now probably nothing more than part of a greater pile of ash, stone and melted glass in the middle of a clearing. Her one regret, before she died of Tuberculosis, was never getting the chance to send it to her friend from across the channel, in the hopes that he could carry on her craft in her absence. It's dreadful, isn't it Professor, what can be lost when you don't pay attention to what happens just a few thousand kilometers away, across a relatively narrow stretch of water."

Slughorn stared at the closed door of his office, feeling his eyes water and his heart ache. He pulled out a small bound notebook full of handwritten letters, before slowly opening it and reading the familiar handwriting. He closed his eyes and cursed his ignorance. Several years ago, as a student and an apprentice, he would correspond with one of the greatest Potions Master of Britain almost weekly about some new discovery in potions, from the work in finding new ingredients in the Asian Subcontinent, to the use of alternate magical creature components that had less of a devastating impact on their populations. And then… the letters stopped. He had only realized that she had been married and had a son after asking Lord Black about his reclusive sister, who had apparently died on the Continent. To hear now, some time after Aquilla Black's death, that she had never forgotten about him and had hoped to help him refine his work before illness struck her down by the grandchild he never knew she had… Horace closed the notebook after drying it with a cloth to keep a few stray tears from falling onto its pages, the only thing he had to remember of a colleague he had all but forgotten. The door to his office remained closed until he left for his room that night.

"I take it Slughorn decided not be stupid?" Lilith raised her head up and looked across from her as Alphard sat down. She had come to the library to find a copy of one of the older versions of the Transfiguration text to complete the homework Dumbledore had asked for. The current textbook, she knew, was a bit light on the theoretical aspects and she didn't want to give the "by the book" moron a reason to lower her grade any further. Putting her fountain pen away, she touched the page and focused on getting the ink to dry, repeating the spell phrase over and over until the spell took effect, before setting it aside. She then looked at Alphard, raising an eyebrow. "I suppose that depends on whose point of view we are talking about. To you and me, it might seem to be a victory, but to certain parties, not so much." Alphard gave her a soft smile, before he gestured with his head. She placed the textbook away to its rightful place, having already copied the relevant pages onto her own pieces of parchment, before notifying the Librarian. The two left the Library soon after, with a ward activating around both of them. Lilith poked the ward with her finger, getting a feel for it.

"Sound negation outside of the area of effect?" Alphard nodded. "Something Aunt Cassiopeia taught me." Lilith looked over Alphard again. Her memories as Lillian told her that Alphard was an eccentric member of the family, widely regarded as the generation's white sheep before Sirius, her Godfather, came about. A man who was more well known for his preference for men, artistry and quiet nature, he had been ostracized sometime after the rise of Voldemort. It always surprised her how Alphard, the Black who was in Tom's year group, never fell for his charms, yet Walburga and Cygnus did, with Orion forced to follow them after he was married to Walburga. That thought of Walburga having her way with an eleven year old Orion made Lilith shudder. Perhaps it had less to do with the outcast not following the family and more of him being aware as to Tom's failing mental state. He had to have been around Riddle after the creation of at least one of his Horcruxes, the Diary. At least that's what she and her ally had been able to piece together. If her former Head of Slytherin House and Walburga's portrait were right about the events surrounding the next few years, then it was this year and the next that would be the times when something would have changed Tom Riddle's outlook. What could have thrown him so off balance that he would have been willing to damage his soul to survive death? What could have pushed him to ally himself with the Blood Supremacy movement so viciously?

Getting her mind back on track, Lilith tried to equate the impression Alphard had on her Godfather and his cousin Walburga that would have resulted in him being looked down upon by the blood purists but so well liked by Sirius and perhaps even Orion and Arcturus at one time. She frowned. Alphard had a strong relationship with Arcturus, her godfather Sirius, but a distant one with Orion, post Walburga. And now he said that he learned that ward spell from Cassiopeia, his aunt, who was also known to have been distant from Walburga after her brother embraced the Blood Supremacy movement. Everyone in the future assumed the Black family was entirely behind Voldemort but what if that was wrong? What if a splinter group tied to the head of the family resisted, only failing at convincing Orion to take a stand against his wife? A group that had more information than anyone afterwards understood, but were too fragmented to use it accordingly, lacking the power over the Family Magic necessary to fight back. A shadow of the family's… Lilith's mind froze as they reached an abandoned classroom, before Alphard lit the candles and closed the door. Didn't Walburga mention something about Regulus being trained as a shadow of Sirius the one time she broke down? As she noticed that they had entered a secluded room, Lilith started building up the magic needed to drop Alphard, just in case her theory was wrong. "So, what did you really want to ask, Herr Black?"

Her voice must have betrayed some of her concern as Alphard looked her over. "You don't have to be worried about me. I am not the type to attack a person like this, let alone a girl." Lilith raised an eyebrow. "True. I have certainly seen the way that your eyes linger on Riddle's rear. Should I let him know?" Alphard cleared his throat. "As attractive as he is, he isn't interested in boys or girls, so that wouldn't be advised. Well, he wasn't until you came along. Something about you definitely draws his eyes. Though that isn't why I called you here. I merely want to know if you need any help. Anything at all." Lilith searched his eyes, seeing no emotion behind the request. He was too emotionally detached to be offering that to her. "Who is asking? Alphard Black, or Lord Sirius Black, the Head of House Black?" A small flinch managed to escape his control. "Is there a difference? We are all still family." Lilith smiled at him. "Of course it matters. A favor from you could be repaid with some hints as to what certain boys like to eat, their favorite drinks or who prefers to be in control. A favor to Lord Black could cost me my family's future, or did he fail to mention that when he asked you to check in on his great niece?" Alphard winced in full, his attempt at hiding his discomfort all but gone. He rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, I figured you would see it that way. I am guessing that's why you stayed away from Castle Black?"

Lilith took a seat at a nearby table and crossed her legs. "I thought about it. My mother was a first generation witch, which meant her family was of no help in the magical world. I am quite literally the last von Schwarzwald of the mainline, with all other branches of the family being quite happy to forget any ties they might have to us. Aquilla's family was my only option family wise. I thought about it until I checked Sirius' track record. Marius, Cedrella, Callidora. Need I say more?" Alphard sighed, before sitting down. "He had to have his reasons." Lilith bristled. "Toujour Purs! Always Pure. Always Black. Don't give me that crap, Alphard. Our families agreed to my grandparents' marriage because we both held the same ideals. Family always came first. Always! Leaving Marius with nothing more than a Trust Fund? Banishing Cedrella for refusing to marry another man for politics? All but cutting off Callidora for marrying into a distinguished Light family? These are the actions of a politician, not a Head of House." Alphard rubbed his face. "What would you like us to do about it? We all have to follow his lead." Lilith shrugged. "That is something you have to figure out, before it's too late. As far as I am concerned, I am just another outsider."

Alphard's face turned serious. "Not to me, or to the rest of the family that knows. You are a part of the family, Lilith." Lilith smiled at him, a genuine smile. "Danke for that, Alphard. It means a lot. But I need to protect my family too. I need to make sure that at the very least we are avenged. But for now… I need to become strong enough to be able to fight on my own. I can't do that. Not yet. But that doesn't mean I can't help the Blacks. I will protect Orion and the rest of you as best as I can. You just make sure that the family doesn't fall apart from within. Got that… shadow in training?" Alphard nodded absentmindedly before he froze. He stared at Lilith who smiled back at him, the two left in silence. Alphard eventually relaxed. "That doesn't leave this room." Lilith giggled. "Of course not. Though I hope I can tell Riddle about the way you look at his rear. I want to see the look on his face." Alphard turned serious. "Be careful around him, Lilith. He isn't all there. There is a cold edge to him. Something dangerous. I have been trying to defuse it as best as I can but he isn't fond of making connections and, despite my reputation, he is too wary of the Black family name to approach me directly. Having a loose cannon in Slytherin is never a good thing." Lilith stood up but the smile never left her face as she went for the door. "Well, now you have two of them." Alphard rubbed his face as she closed the door behind her. "So I noticed."

Chapter 4: Echoes in the Past

"Welcome fourth years to Care of Magical Creatures. Now, as this is your first class back, we won't be dealing with anything too dangerous or exciting just yet. Before you all you will find quite a few specimens of Streelers. Now, can anyone remind us what a Steeler is? Ah, Mr. Hagrid. Please, tell us about this interesting creature." Lilith pulled instinctively on the dragonhide gloves she usually wore, happy that they were graded to both Auror and Handler specifications. She eyed the large shelled slugs as they moved around the enclosure, the ground where they traveled through burned and withered by the acid they were famous for leaving behind in their wake. Then, of course, were the dangerous spikes that dotted the creature's shells, all filled with toxins that really cemented into her mind that Magicals were stupid. These creatures destroyed the environment and were dangerous to the health of anyone or anything nearby. So why not import them across the Mediterranean as some sort of pet. Sparing a glance at the quite tall, but much younger Rubeus Hagrid, Lilith could see that he did find them interesting, but probably not as exciting as an Acromantula or a dragon. Lilith buried her pain at said thought, before looking at the aging Professor.

There were two names that became infamous in the field of magizoology at the dawn of the twentieth century. There was, of course, Newt Scamander, writer of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them", a text he had by this period expanded on three times already as he made some less than appreciated treks into the Indian Subcontinent a few years prior. A proponent of the rights and protections of magical creatures, he was a maverick that tended to run afoul of the law of several different countries in a desperate attempt to save an endangered species. One of the Magical World's first International Naturalists, though some people give him a different title, though not one the often timid man would ever call himself by. On the other end of the spectrum was the man in front of her, the current head of his infamous family. Theseus Ross, whom Lilith knew was some relation of Minerva McGonagall, who was currently a fourth year Gryffindor but who wasn't taking the Care elective, looked to Lilith like the Magical World's equivalent of Allan Quartermain. If there was ever a dangerous magical creature terrorizing any foreign region of the dwindling British Empire, a Ross wouldn't be far behind to test their skills and cut them down. Though if the records for the family were anything to go by, the Ross family did suffer some nasty losses too. Theseus had made a name for himself in the African Continent for a time, before rumour had it he became disgusted with the way the British treated the locals. His last great adventure took him to Australia, where he was seriously injured and was soon forced to retire.

Having lived past his prime, Lilith could see how that would make him a proper candidate for the position of Professor for Care of Magical Creatures, though if his boisterous nature at the Feasts and his current habit of sneaking a shot from a flask of what Lilith assumed was liquor was anything to go by, then the man was barely holding onto his sanity in what was essentially the most boring job for an ex-adventurer. He did give Moody a run for his money in drinking consistency, which was saying something. Well, both Moody's. Even after being rescued from a ten month stay within a trunk, the ex-Auror man was still very much a raging alcoholic, though damn it if he didn't know how to take down a Death Eater. He would often drop by to see Sirius at the London Townhouse when he wasn't being impersonated by a Death Eater. With the younger Hagrid being finished with the refresher on the lesson of the day, the old man with short white hair and several nasty scars on his face spoke up. "Well done, Mr Hagrid. 15 points to Gryffindor. Now, it is those very sharp and deadly spikes that we will be dealing with today. Professor Slughorn needs a good fresh supply to use in some nasty potions that will be in Madam Prewett's cabinets for the whole year, so we best be collecting a good amount. Make sure you all are wearing dragonhide gloves and grab some vials with rubber membranes. Pair up and get to one, while you all make sure not to get poked in the back. Our Chief Healer won't like getting any patients directly from my classes."

Lilith's eyes searched the students and watched them all pair up quickly, with the Slytherins already having their groups settled. Sighing to herself, Lilith made it to the one Steeler that was some distance away from the rest, looking at the current spikes on its shell and the best angle to approach it with minimal chance of getting tagged from it and the other meandering slugs. "Hello Lillian Potter. May I join you?" Lilith felt her heart stop beating as she turned and looked into the eyes of a fourth year Ravenclaw girl. Her hair wasn't the near platinum blonde of her dearest friend but the eyes… she knew those silver eyes that saw more than anyone should see. "Uhh, hi. Sure, I would love to be your partner." The girl's eyes seemed to widen, especially as Lilith was certain they saw that she was telling the truth. After all, how couldn't she? There was no chance this was the future Pandora Lovegood, as she and her husband shouldn't have been born yet. Which would make the dark blonde girl currently standing beside her Luna's Grandmother. The girl's following smile was all too familiar to Lillian's heart. "Thank you. I am Cassandra Moon. A pleasure to meet you." As the two knelt down and started to extract the toxin safely, Lilith felt her heart beating wildly. On the one hand she was next to her best friend's grandmother. On the other hand… she was a bloody Seer who could divine her true name just from looking at her. Just… great.

As the class wound down with no injuries, Lilith went to Cassandra's side. "Do you mind if we talked for a moment?" Cassandra nodded. "Sure." Getting some distance between her and the other, Lilith focused hard on the spells Snape taught her. As soon as the privacy wards were up, she turned to Cassandra, panting softly. "You can't call me by that name. My name is Lilith von Schwarzwald." Cassandra blinked at her. "But it's wrong. Wait, it's only sort of wrong? It's weird. I am certain you are Lillian Potter." Lilith pulled some strands of her red hair away from her eyes. "Believe me, I know that! But you can't use that name for me. The Potters are a known family with very few members. I can't have them looking into me being a possible relative. So could you call me Lilith? Please?" Cassandra searched Lilith's eyes. "I … don't feel right saying that name when I look at you." Lilith sighed and looked up at the sky, counting to ten in German. It was a habit she picked up from her body's memories. She lowered her eyes back to the slightly uncomfortable girl. "How about a nickname then?" Cassandra beamed. "As in us being friends?" Lilith gave her a genuine smile. "I would love to be your friend, Cassandra, but us being friends means you have to be careful about what you say about me. Including my true name."

Cassandra, sensing the truth, brought up Lilith's hands and squeezed them in front of her eyes. "Ok, How about if I call you Lily and you can call me Cassie." Lilith winced slightly. "Ugh, sure. But I hope you can forgive me if I don't use yours yet. You know, Slytherin's being Slytherins and all." Cassandra nodded. "Sure. Uncle Leo was a Slytherin when he was at school. He told me a few things about the house in case I would be sorted there, even though me and Grandma both told him I was a Ravenclaw." Lilith chuckled. "Let me guess, a typical wizard ignoring a Seer's intuition?" Cassandra smiled at her. "Exactly! I am so happy that you know. It normally takes forever for someone to believe me." Something seemed to catch Cassandra's breath and her eyes filled with tears. "You're hurting, aren't you? Because of what you did? I can see you hurting on the Equinox and further." Lilith pulled her hands out of Cassandra's, remembering that Seers tended to have visions through physical contact. Luna suffered a few of those during their years together. "I am. But if it means something to you, this moment right now has made the pain worth it. So, Cassandra, what can you tell me about the sort of Magical Creatures you like?" The two left the area after Lilith dropped the wards, even as her heart ached when Cassandra spoke about Dragons. The Seer proved her talent as she wisely changed the subject soon after.

Lillian knew something was wrong with her. The feeling had started soon after the night that Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley got caught smuggling out a dragon via some Dragon Handlers atop the Astronomy Tower. The sensation had been like a building dread inside of her heart, a yearning to hold something in her hands and to treasure it with all of her soul. As time passed, the dread grew deeper and far more painful. Lillian had to drag herself out of bed in the mornings and her attention had started to wander, her eyes often looking up at the blue sky. The moments she watched as Neville played with Hedwig, something inside of her told her that she should have had something like that. A connection with another living being, full of unwavering devotion and love. That somewhere out there was a creature that longed to be with her and to enjoy the rest of its life by her side. She knew that in her core. The feeling of absolute joy and company should have been hers. For the longest time Lillian thought she was driving herself mad with jealousy, not understanding why she was so emotional. Her time at the Orphanage had taught her to be cold and unfeeling, to ignore everyone and everything that didn't care about her. Which was everyone. So why? Why was she feeling this way now?

She learned why when one morning she felt dead inside. Depression, or what she knew to be depression later in life, was nothing new to Lillian. Lillian Potter hadn't been raised in a home with a loving family, hadn't learned that she was magical at an early age and hadn't known the feeling of any sort of human warmth for years of her life. Though if Lillian was fair, she was certain that people even living in the midst of luxury could feel depression. That simply wasn't her experience. Feeling her stomach aching from hunger and having to fight off bullies who thought she was an easy mark, Lillian knew depression all too well as she often contemplated what being done with the empty void of a world she was born into would be like. Would it be an euphoric release of every ounce of her suffering as she embraced the possibility of an afterlife that would be a thousand times more welcoming than the life she was in? Or would it be a void of nothingness, a numb and senseless existence that would eat away at her conscious thought until she became one with the abyss? Lillian had delved into such dark and unpleasant thoughts before as she struggled to control the hopelessness of her youth with the rage she felt at the world. The feeling that she awoke in one Spring morning felt like she had suffered the latter thought experiment.

Food was unappetizing, the words of over a hundred children felt muffled in her ears as something felt utterly wrong with the world. Oddly enough, it was her wandering down the side of the Hogwarts Grounds to the side of Hagrid's Hut that revealed to her the truth. She could hear voices from the Hut, familiar, irritating and obnoxious voices that she learned to hate and revile within a week of knowing them. None of those voices mattered to her. It was the voice of the Half-Giant, filled with pain and remorse that drew her to the hut to listen in just beside the window. "Come now Hagrid, it was the best place for Norbert to be. How could Charlie have known that the little dragon would go crazy?" Hagrid blew into what Lillian hoped was a tissue. "You don't understand! Dragons don't behave like that for no reason. Norberta had to have had a reason to leave the Preserve. Something was calling her away and the Handlers didn't get it. They constantly tried to get her used to the other Norwegian Ridgebacks but she refused to be a part of their group. If she had stayed here, she would have been able to tell us why she wasn't feeling well."

Neville's voice soon followed. "Well, there is nothing to be done now, Hagrid. She's gone. All we can do is mourn her passing. Besides, I am sure you will find a creature to call your own one day. Like me and Hedwig." Hagrid took some time to respond. "That's unlikely, Neville. You and Hedwig have a Familiar bond. It's how she can always feel where you are and can tell what yerr thinking. It's all about magic, you see. Magic that flows from the wizard, or witch, to the familiar and back. No, I doubt I will ever get to experience that." Lillian's heart felt as if it had turned to glass as he described the connection between Neville and Hedwig. As Lillian stumbled her way back to the castle, the inside of her chest felt as if it was tearing itself apart, arcs of magic jumping across her finger tips. A Familiar. A Familiar that had magic flowing into and out of it from its owner. She remembered the day that Norbert, or was it Norberta now, was hatched. Hagrid had been kind enough to invite Lillian to his hut for the event. The little dragon hatchling had given Hagrid a taste of its flames before it's eyes fixed on her. Lillian had thought that it sensed that she was a Parselmouth and had been comforted by it somehow. The creature scampered to her side of the table and Lillian had caressed the creature's back, getting it to purr like a cat. That feeling had warmed her heart and stuck with her for days.

Had magic bound them together at that moment? Lillian closed her eyes as she reached the landing to the Dungeons and allowed herself to look inside. She felt her way through her magic for the odd dead feeling. The moment she touched it she was flooded with feelings. A yearning to be sent home, to be with her other half. A yearning to curl up and feel those soft and squishy fingers on her scales. Lillian shuddered visibly as she collapsed as she experienced something she would later learn was the death echo of a Familiar. "Miss Potter!" A careful hand lifted her up as black eyes stared into hers as tears covered her cheeks. "What has happened, Lily?" Lillian hated when Snape called her that. It felt like he wasn't talking to her but her mom. Right now, however, she didn't care. "I… think … I had a Familiar… and it died this morning." Snape's eyes widened as Lillian shuddered, her mind getting pulled into the death echo as her world started to collapse. She remembered hearing Snape trying to call her name but she couldn't respond. She was dead. She should be dead. Why was she alive? Why? For a brief moment she stared at glowing red eyes before her world faded to black.

Lilith's lungs took in a deep breath as she awakened, her eyes feeling swollen and her cheeks covered in tears. The familiar ache of her body after an episode of magical backlash followed soon after, as her mind settled into the present, thoughts of a different life buried once again, where she hoped they would remain. Lilith personally doubted they would stay that way, but she could always hope. She knew she wasn't that fortunate. As she tried to move, her vision was covered by the face of an older woman, her grey hair still showing traces of the red that the Prewetts were famous for. "What time is it?" The woman smiled at her, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Six in the morning, dear." Lilith allowed the witch to scan her with her wand, before she sat up. Teresa Prewett, the current Head Healer of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, sighed. "How many of these episodes have you had in school so far?" Lilith thought for a second. "This is my second, I think. First one was on the 1st of September." The Madam gave her a soft glare. "And you didn't come to me on the 1st… why?" Lilith cringed a little. "I didn't think the shift in the ambient magic would be high enough to matter, nor the magic I was using for wards. Guess I was wrong."

Teresa sighed as she pulled out her clipboard and started writing on a piece of parchment. "Well, I hope it goes without saying that I want you to take it easy and that on the next significant day, please report to the Hospital Wing. Now, as to what treatment we can provide you. Standard lotions and spells to reduce pain and backlash didn't seem to work last night. I would like to try a higher dose for the next time this happens. The higher dose will likely leave you lethargic in the morning, even with a flushing potion or Pepper Up. Are you willing to go through with it anyways?" Lilith sighed but nodded. "Sure." Pulling on her vest over her white shirt, followed by her robes, Lilith took the offered vials of Pepper Up to counteract last night's medications, grimacing at the taste. "You do know a cup of coffee works better, right?" The Healer chuckled. "I will be sure to have some ready for you next time, though with the way rationing is going on with the other imports, it is hard to say what supplies we can get. Now, if the higher dosage of medication fails, we will have a lot more to talk about before I can release you. For now, you are good to go, just keep your use of magic down as much as possible." Lilith muttered under her breath. "Tell that to Professor Dumbledore." Madam Prewett's eyes followed her as Lilith moved towards the main doors, before she stopped and looked at the sleeping figure on the bed, recognizing Prewett's aide.

"What happened to her?" Teresa moved up, looking at the sleeping form of her apprentice. "I am afraid that the experience was a bit much for Poppy here. Those who study to be Healers tend to be a bit empathic, a quirk of their magic. The pain that radiates off of you, plus your screams, were too much for her, I am afraid. She took a Dreamless Sleep potion and I called a Mind Healer to give her a look over later today." Lilith looked at the Chief Healer. "I am so sorry." Teresa placed her hand on Lilith's shoulder. "Now none of that. Whatever the source of your affliction may be, you are a patient and we will do what it takes to care for you. Poppy will be all the better a Healer from this experience, even if she won't see it for a while. There are far worse patients than you out there that we can't help and those moments will weigh on her mind just as much if not more so. Now go on and get some fresh air and then breakfast. The season won't be as kind soon enough." Lilith nodded and left the Hospital Wing for the Great Hall, her thoughts on the younger version of Lillian's Healer and the burden she was on her. The woman had been watching over her the days after the loss of her Familiar, though the reason as to why she was there was never spoken. Dumbledore didn't want to ruin Hogwarts reputation over the death of a Familiar to some orphaned girl, not when he had a Dark Lord to smoke out of hiding.

The Healer of Lillian's time had remained kind to her over the years, even as Lillian returned to her care, sporting injuries from the few Slytherins that continued to try and beat her down into submission, a situation that caused a great deal of concern from Madam Pomfrey and numerous arguments with both Severus Snape and the Headmaster. Dumbledore would call Lillian's scrapes nothing more than children playing a bit hard, but Lillian knew what rough play was. In order to prevent the bullying from continuing, Lillian had taken to learning how to Duel, requesting lessons from both her Head of House and from Professor Quirell. Both had eagerly taken her under their wing, teaching her all about the subtleties of rapid and silent casting. Quirell had been the better teacher of the two that first year, though he mostly focused on getting her stance and physicality right. Even at Hogwarts, Lillian's body had remained thin and nimble, despite the overabundance of food. She found the kids that stuffed themselves to the point of passing out not worth her interest. Her lessons eventually proved invaluable after her fourth year as she kept Slytherin in line, becoming the so-called Slytherin Princess. Though the term spread to the other houses, no one but the Slytherins understood what the term truly meant.

Lilith looked at her hands as she walked through the corridors, reliving the memories of the von Schwarzwald training sessions. She had hoped to do the same thing again within Slytherin, to keep the bullies under control and the King or Queen of Slytherin honest. Unfortunately, her inability to use magic freely made it far more difficult, though she wasn't a Slytherin for nothing. She would have to make do, placing wards all around the Common Room and making sure that the younger years remained safe in their beds. If Rosier was challenged, she had no doubt who would replace him. The question was less about the current potential rulers of Slytherin but the rightful Heir. She needed to prove to Tom that what Rosier was doing was wrong, that there were subtler and more effective means of exerting influence. As long as his legacy remained clouded, she could do that. The moment he became aware of his rightful place and used it to maneuver and manipulate his way to the top of the Slytherin pecking order, it would be too late. Lilith clenched her fist and made up her mind. If her actions in the defence of the Slytherins landed her in the infirmary again, then so be it. She had work to do.

"Riddle, are you able to aid us with our Transfiguration assignment?" Riddle closed his notebook where he added the last locations he had searched on the third floor, before looking at Nott and Malfoy, trying to bury some of his annoyance. While he could be doing something better with his time, the two of them did pay him to help get their assignments up to Outstanding scores. If he wanted to be safe in the summer or afford an Inheritance Test from Gringotts, he needed the money and couldn't be too picky about what assignments he could help them with. "I am." As the two heirs sat down and took out their materials and Tom started to correct their assignments, the fringe benefit of his work started to pay off, as Abraxas wasn't known for keeping quiet while Riddle worked on their assignments. "According to my father, Lord Rosier is still trying to delay the vote on the censure. Every time that Lord Potter calls for it, Rosier manages to delay the vote by threatening to devote the other legislation up for consideration. Though his strategy failed with the attempt to keep the DMLE from increasing its available budget."

Heir Nott sighed and turned the page on his new parchment as he transcribed Tom's corrections in his own handwriting. "Which has been creating even further animosity between the Light and Dark Factions. Lord Longbottom has taken great issue with the attempt at defunding of the DMLE and has been trying to push bans for the use of certain spells as a counter offer. The man especially has it out for Lord Black." Malfoy shrugged. "Not much of a surprise, really. The man's still mad that Lord Black reneged on the agreements that had been negotiated for when Callidora Black married into the family. Though his questioning of Rosier did prove that several Old and Ancient European Families had declared Blood Feuds against Grindelwald and his allies. Few can act on them right now but Rosier's assertions that Grindelwald would unite the European Wizarding community ring false now." Nott chuckled. "Speaking of Blood Feuds, when do you think our Lion in Green will strike at the Deputy Headmaster? Von Schwarzwald looked ready to hex him after the last practical demonstration. I swear I thought she was about to cry after Dumbledore had her cast the spell with her wand."

Tom's mind stopped recording their gossip on Wizengamot matters when Lilith's name came up. The memory from the recent class was one that brought out conflicting feelings within Tom. On the one hand, Tom wanted to strangle Dumbledore and all the other students who laughed at Lilith. Like always, Lilith would complete the practical portion of the class slowly and diligently, without her wand, and leave it on her desk to be evaluated by the Professor as she redirected her attention to her books. The fact she could do the spell proved that she had mastered the lesson. But Dumbledore refused to leave her alone. He would arrive at the front of her desk and dispel her work before demanding that she do it again, this time with her wand. In the last class, Lilith actually did as he asked and Tom could see why she refused to use her wand. The Transfiguration of the rat into a hedgehog went as intended, but magic seemed to leak and coil around Lilith's wand. The man was decent enough to award her the full grade for that class, but the damage had been done. Tom was certain he alone noticed the drops of blood that landed on the desk from the edge of her sleeve before Lilith vanished them. She had vanished from sight for the rest of the day.

But what had struck Tom about the whole incident was the way Lilith looked at Dumbledore after that. What others assumed was Lilith struggling not to cry, Tom saw it as something else. That wasn't shame, injury or sadness on her face. It was rage. Pure, violent rage. He could admit that there was a time he felt that rage before. When he was in the Orphanage, one of the older boys that loved to bully everyone had found one of Tom's snakes. During many of the excursions to some more rural areas near the coast, Tom had sheltered a few of the coldblooded creatures within his shirt and taken them back to the Orphanage, both to spare them the cold of winter and to have some company. Yet this kid had managed to find one of them, who had been hunting for mice, and killed it without a second thought. Since some of the kids knew of his love of snakes, they literally tossed the mangled corpse in Tom's face. The sight of one of the snakes he had been happily talking to for weeks, dead and lifeless, as the boy responsible laughed at his misery was too much for Tom. He knew now that his magic had reacted to his feelings as the flames from the chimney flared and caught the boy's clothes on fire. For the longest time Tom enjoyed the sound of the kid's pain and agony, before exhaustion caused him to stop. The boy was taken to the hospital and lived, though he was horribly disfigured from the flames.

Tom would replay that memory in his mind over and over again, though it wasn't to relive the euphoria of causing the boy to suffer for his actions, though it was certainly a fringe benefit. It had been to understand just how close he came to taking a life. Would he have done it if he wasn't as weak as he had been magically? Would it have been a source of dread and remorse as the Priests often preached, a sin that needed to be forgiven by the will of a divine force? Or would it have been an extension of what he felt just before, the exhilaration of the power he wielded over all the kids who dared to call themselves his betters? Tom didn't know and there was a part of him that told him that it might not be worth finding out. He thought back at the murderous rage he saw in Lilith's eyes and wondered if the same thoughts and feelings dwelled within her mind. Did she fantasize and enjoy the idea of killing Dumbledore as Tom sometimes did, or did she bury the desire beneath shame and fear as so many others had done? Tom wasn't sure, but he was certain of one thing. He would love to know just how much alike Lilith and he were. Maybe they could be more than just classmates. Maybe… she could be a partner, one worth revealing more of himself to. Maybe… he wasn't alone.

Lilith stood in one of the many corridors of the Hogwarts Library, looking over the selection of texts dealing with Defence Against the Dark Arts and seeing the differences in approach between Headmasters Dippet and Dumbledore. While the Dark Arts course had been changed into the Defence course sometime in the last century, which happened in Beauxbatons as well, Dippet clearly understood the importance of knowing the Dark Arts in order to fight them. While texts such as "Magick Moste Evile" weren't anywhere to be seen in the General Section, she had seen a copy in the Restricted Section when she inspected it using her Cloak. Yet, even in the General Selection, the options of Dark Arts texts were far more available now than she could remember in Hogwarts, even under Voldemort's reign. As Merrythought was currently going over the various shields that could be used to counter standard curses and jinxes, Lilith had thought this was as good a time as any to prove a point. Pulling out a book on Defensive Shields and another on the average jinxes and curses used by Dark Witches and Wizards, Lilith made her way to her usual table before she spotted several books moving rather quickly, a mop of dark brown, if not black hair right behind them.

Dropping her books onto the nearby table, Lilith moved to prevent the inevitable, as the boy took a turn and the books shifted. Catching several before they hit the floor, Lilith sighed as the little boy recovered his balance, familiar grey eyes looking at her with surprise. "Oh! Thank you, Fraulein von Schwarzwald!" Lilith gave Orion Black a genuine smile. "No problem at all, Herr Black. Where are you taking these to?" The boy pointed to a table with three other first years, several from prominent families. A young boy with brown hair reminded her very much of Tracey Davis with the way his smile always seemed a little playful, while the other boy with blonde hair made her think of the Greengrass family. If her memory served her well, the Davis and Greengrass families were old allies and neighbors, which made their constant companionship a forgone conclusion. The only girl at the table, however, had olive skin and piercing amber eyes, her dark black hair held together by a clip. Like Lilith, the young Alessia de Francesco from the town of Todi was a refugee of Grindelwald's war, her family deciding it was far too dangerous for her to stay in Italy. Something in her eyes made Lilith think of Blaise Zabini, which could mean this was his grandmother, the infamous Lady Zabini. Though Alessia's eyes seemed to show a harshness to her, there was something that Lilith knew all too well hiding just underneath. Fear of being left alone.

Placing the books on the table, Lilith bowed her head softly to the two boys. "Herr Greengrass, Herr Davis." The two bowed back as Lilith gave Alessia a knowing smile. "If you need anything at all, do not hesitate to ask, Signorina de Francesco." The young girl blushed at being addressed in Italian but nodded. "Grazie, Signora von Schwarzwald." Lilith looked over the books. "Studying for Potions?" The four kids nodded as Orion sat on the open chair. "The next potion is in pairs and we are worried about getting it right. According to Lucretia, it's a bit difficult for first years as we could get the ratios wrong." Lilith looked through her memories of first year. "Ah, the basic Sleeping Draught. If you get the ratios wrong, you could end up with something close to the Draught of Living Death. Quite the escalation. Would you like some help?" The four shrugged and Lilith took that as a yes. Looking over the books Orion selected, she pulled out two and went back into the book shelves, coming back with two more, her earlier selection of books underneath them. "The main difficulty in getting Dreamless Sleep right is how well you get the ingredients to dissolve and mix with the rest. First you need to make sure you are using a Pewter Cauldron and that it's properly cleaned on the inside. Then you need to prepare the ingredients in a way that gets the most out of them."

Lilith walked them through the preparation, with all four writing down notes. "If you use these methods, you should get your standard dose. Careful with the Wormwood. The higher the amount, the longer the person will be sleeping for." As the kids started storing their parchements away, Alessia looked at Lilith's books. "Dark Jinxes and Curses?" Lilith looked over and smiled. "Merrythought has us going over shield spells in fourth year. Some shields only hold up to certain spells. I want my assignment to be accurate. The writer of this book was a Champion of the Dueling Circuits. She had a good grasp of which shields worked against what curses, especially when you consider differences in power from overcharged spells." Alessia nodded. "Papa is one of the ICW Peacekeepers. I remember him and Uncle practicing a lot of nasty spells. Aunty and Mama weren't happy when they came back covered in injuries." Lilith chuckled. "I can imagine, but it's good to practice with the real thing, or spells that behave similarly. Not every spell is as fast or as effective as a stunner." As Lilith helped the store the books away, the young Greengrass boy came up to her. "Why did you help us? We can't be that useful, especially with what's happening with Rosier."

Shaking her head, Lilith replied, being aware that the other three were listening close by. "If I could, you four would have nothing to do with the schwine. As for helping you, I did it because I could, not because it would benefit me necessarily. Besides…" Lilith's eyes dulled for a moment as she remembered her first year at Hogwarts, and the betrayals she endured. Her eyes regained some of their usual light as she returned to the moment. "... I would have wanted friends and classmates that helped me out when I was younger. Going it alone isn't easy, especially when you have no idea how the world might end up. Slytherin is at a difficult time now and you four need to look after each other and the rest, before things get worse with Rosier." The young boy looked at her with surprise before he bowed his head and rushed away, the other three following close behind. Lilith sighed, slipping the last two books into place in the Library, before going to Madam Bulstrude to check out the two books from earlier. As she stepped out of the Library, she spied a few of Rosier's friends eyeing her. By the time they turned the next corner, Lilith was gone, having vanished beneath the cover of her Invisibility Cloak.

Chapter 5: Melancholic Samhain

Riddle watched as everyone prepared for the Samhain ritual that would be carried out in the Slytherin Dorm Rooms later in the evening, with most students in the Common Room carrying around baskets full of fruits and vegetables to set up on their personal altars within their rooms. Nott had been kind enough to invite him to his and Malfoy's last year and the experience had been both enlightening and disheartening. Samhain was the celebration of those who had died and welcomed amongst the dead, the time of year where the dead were treated as living once more, as the veil that separated the worlds was at its thinnest. At the feast at sundown, a plate would be served by the elves in between each student, to allow them to invite and mourn the spirits of the deceased. After that, the children would either return to their dorms or gather at the chimneys of the Common Rooms, to stare into the flames and to burn up a bit of parchment with the name of the deceased on it along with a written message of love, followed by a prayer that the well wishes are received and that the deceased can find peace. A few brave souls from among the older students would even venture into the Forest at night, supposedly under the careful watch of the Centaurs, to traverse the wilderness and connect with nature, if not experience a vision outright. These excursions were often overseen by Professor Sybil Croaker, who taught the Divination elective, and Professor Ross, whose job it was to keep everyone safe.

Halloween always held a mixed bag for Tom. He loved the idea of putting on a mask and becoming someone else, something else. Something terrifying, something powerful. The anonymity and the chance to be the person he always envisioned himself as was one of his most pleasant dreams. Yet Wizarding Britain didn't follow that particular tradition. The festival of Samhain didn't give him the feeling of freedom that Halloween always seemed to hint at. Instead, it was another reminder that he was an outsider. While everyone was excited about connecting with the spirits of the past, Tom couldn't feel anything but disconnected. He didn't know the name of the woman who died giving birth to him. He didn't know if his father was alive or dead as well. There were no records of the Riddle family in the Ministry of Magic. He checked. Which meant they were muggles. The Ministry didn't bother to have any databases about muggles, unless it was a record of repeated threats against wizards or the parents of a muggleborn. They barely kept any records of Squibs as well. He knew about the Heritage Tests that he could take at Gringotts, but his allocated funds from the Board of Governors as an orphan had stipulations. He couldn't use any of it for anything non-Hogwarts related, with the exception of purchases at Hogsmeade. Everywhere else his hands were tied. If Dumbledore and Dippet had given him the chance to spend the previous summer at Hogwarts, he would have used his extra funds on that test. Sadly, his peace of mind and physical safety were more important than whatever a piece of paper might tell him about his heritage.

As he finished his last remaining assignment for the weekend, he looked up and checked on the others, noticing someone else who didn't seem to be preparing for any Samhain Rituals. Lilith von Schwarzwald seemed utterly oblivious to the world around her as she made notes on her notebook. The Austrian redhead was an oddity he had no way to explain. On the one hand she was from a prestigious European Magical Family, one almost as Ancient as the region they inhabited. Yet she used fountain pens, notebooks and had no trouble being around Muggleborns. The looks she received from Rosier and a few other Purebloods whenever she would sit with Ravenclaw Muggleborns, including some upper year students, and discuss some complicated and obscure forms of enchantments was a source of amusement to him. She was certainly as fearless and as noble as a Gryffindor at times, but one could see why the Hat allowed her to be Sorted into Slytherin. Her mind was always active, constantly working out some problem he wasn't fully aware of. She was also a constant thorn in Rosier's side, spending time getting to know the younger years, teaching them how to make basic but effective wards for their rooms. Even the youngest member of the Black family wasn't afraid to ask for her help and she would gladly give it to them, without asking for anything in return. It did bother him at first that she seemed to be avoiding the usuals rules for exchanges of services until he saw what the benefits of her actions were. The kids trusted her above Rosier and his fellow Prefects.

Still… for someone who had recently lost her entire family, it seemed odd to him that she wasn't preparing for any Samhain preparations. Did she not practice the custom as the rest of Britain did or was there another reason why she was hesitant to call out to them as the rest of the students were? Then again… perhaps the reason was there for all to see. The people of Magical Britain had kept out of most if not all of the conflicts that their muggle country men participated in in the last century and a half. The last time they went to war was to stop Napoleon and his Magical supporters from crossing the Channel, before sending forces to various regions of Europe, sowing chaos that the French Emperor had to personally put down. The aid the magical population of Spain had provided to the Spanish guerilla fighters had enabled them to survive against several of Napoleon's forces, only failing to stop the brilliant tactician himself and his immediate allies. After the French Emperor's second and final exile, the British Magical community had essentially lived in a state of peace. Every relative the students would be calling on would have lived quiet lives, dying only from disease, maybe some murder, but definitely not from an attack by an enemy force. Lilith's family would mostly have died a few months prior, all murdered. Calling them back in some way would only force her to relieve that traumatic moment once more.

Two months of classes together and Tom couldn't exactly put into words why Lilith seemed to draw his attention. She was pretty, of course, physically fit and intelligent. Like him she had an eye for seeing the political implications of her actions, yet she wasn't afraid to make decisions that seemed rash but were clearly calculated, at least to some degree. While Rosier retained his position as King of Slytherin, it was with fewer supporters, with most of the older students turning to the Blacks, Walburga, though older, delegating some of the attention to her younger brother, Cygnus. The younger years simply went to Lilith, creating a three way split, though anyone paying attention knew that Lilith backed the Blacks, she was just not interested in being overt about it. Most of the Professors seemed to like her about as much as they liked him. She was always detailed with her explanations, making sure to provide enough new information to draw in the attention of the students, but never to the point of gloating that she seemed to know more about the subject, which she certainly did. She never bragged about anything, she was just content in her certainty and confidence.

Yet… there was clearly something off about her. Her magic was slow in its implementation. She hardly ever took part in the practical exercises, focusing more on demonstrating she could do the spells, but nothing more. Professor Merrythought never pushed her to use more of her magic and neither did Professor Doge in Charms. It was only Professor Dumbledore who seemed to have it out for her, as she refused to use her wand for any of her Transfiguration exercises. It was clear that the Professors were aware of the way Dumbledore was behaving as they always made sure to give her enough points to negate the points loss from his lessons. This usually fell to Professor Slughorn, who, to the surprise of the Blacks, Rosier and to Tom, had taken Lilith under his wing. In fact, the man seemed to insist that she sit with Tom all the time as his Potions partner. Not that Tom minded. She was clearly a gifted student of Potions, giving him hints about how to get better results from the ingredients, but never overtly doing it. He had complained at first about her babying him but she simply continued doing it, though she would only do it when his method and her previous suggestion were both ineffective. After seeing his grades in Potions improve, Tom wisely kept his mouth shut. Their time together in Potions became moments of silent work. He couldn't put into words how… comfortable those moments were.

Hearing the bell signal it was time for the Samhain Feast, Tom stood up and stretched, watching as Lilith dried her notes before marking her place in her books, storing them all into a bag that was clearly enchanted to be small and light. He pushed down the feelings of jealousy that arose as he pulled his much heavier bag, before heading towards his room to leave it there for the night. After taking a moment to check the strength of the wards of his room, he stepped back out into the Slytherin Common Room, before heading towards the Great Hall. He took a seat towards the end of the table as he couldn't stomach sitting next to Nott and Malfoy tonight. Their help was always invaluable, but today was a day when their presence was a reminder of what he didn't have. A few minutes later, with the majority of the staff and students seated, Lilith arrived and, eyeing the choices of seating, decided to join him at the end of the table just in front of him. The two remained silent as they watched Dippet stand up to make his usual address on Samhain, with Dumbledore looking none the more pleasant. He never seemed comfortable on Samhain, which made Tom wonder if he too had lost someone important to him. Tom decided to pay attention to Headmaster Dippet's speech, though he did notice the bit of parchment Lilith placed beneath the plate nearest him.

"We gather here tonight as we do every night of October 31st. As we prepare to eat our evening meals, we do so remembering the lives of those who have moved on from the realm of the living. We rejoice that they have found peace in the realms beyond, while on this day we pray that they share some of their peace and love to those who have been left behind. As soon as the meal ends, those who have signed up to experience a walk in the Dark Forest may gather within the courtyard with Professors Ross and Croaker. The rest are to return to their dorms to enjoy a peaceful night of rituals or contemplation. All muggleborns are welcomed to ask their Prefects and Head of Hogwarts House about tonight's importance, especially if you were unable to get Professor Binns to explain the matter adequately. Until then, please, tuck in and enjoy your meal." Lilith turned to the plates of food, serving adequate spoonfuls to the empty plates to her sides, before serving herself and focusing on her meal, feeling conflicted about the day.

As a Slytherin in the 1990's, Lillian was hard pressed to find any information about these practices. The students of Slytherin House performed these activities within the privacy of their own rooms, with the exception of the meal offering. Albus Dumbledore, as a way to appease the growing distance between the general population and the traditions of the Magical World, had ceased to refer to Samhain by its proper name. Excursions into the then renamed Forbidden Forest and the duties of the Heads of Houses to educate the first generation magicals had been banned under the pretense of "integration and safety." Lillian herself had no problem integrating the various practices. The idea of watching little kids running around the school wearing costumes and trick or treating was actually one that she found wholesome. What Dumbledore did, however, wasn't integration. It was the oppression of a tradition that stretched back almost a thousand years. A tradition that emphasized remembrance of the deceased and the connections that bound people to their families, magical or otherwise. There was nothing wrong with the celebration. The decision to ban it along with other practices was nothing more than Dumbledore imposing his politics and ethics on others. Even here he was no different, chastising her constantly for using wandless magic. Lilith was only happy the other professors supported her in standing up to the prick.

Still, this year's Samhain wasn't one Lilith was looking forward to. In fact, she had decided to skip it. Lilith didn't want to ponder what her current "state" could trigger with a magical ritual, no matter how simplified and "magicless" it was. As she was essentially possessing the body of the previous soul and using its name, bloodline and prestige to achieve her own selfish goals, Lilith was unsure how the realm of the dead would react to her. She was especially unsure… how the deceased Lilith would react to her. In some ways they were very much the same. Lilith and Lillian always tried to look at the bigger picture and both were enamored with researching and understanding the most obscure texts on magic. Yet they were different enough that their magics constantly fought each other. The moment she had sat under the Sorting Hat, the enchanted piece of cloth had detected the split and was having issues deciding who to place where, never mind the fact there was only one body. It took everything Lilith had to offer to get the Hat to focus on the task at hand, eventually being forced to use his name.

"Deorwine." The Sorting Hat had frozen the moment she uttered that name in her mind. Now where would you have gotten that name, my dear? Lilith had sighed. "If you weren't jumping from one set of personality traits to the other, you would know. I know what name I was called by. I know who you are expected to sort. But I am not just Lilith von Schwarzwald. Look carefully at the memories of the other girl. In the memories of Lillian Potter." Deorwine took her suggestion to heart and focused on those memories. Oh. Oh dear. So we have met before. Slytherin, ehh? And Salazar's last chosen heir. Oh dear, oh dear. You have done a grave thing to have made your way here, young lady. Lilith had deflated after hearing that but Deorwine spoke up. But I can't be the one to judge you. What the future holds for the coming decades is certainly bleak. Blood, innocent and guilty, spilled so senselessly. A world torn apart in more ways than one. Perhaps it is right that someone comes by to lead us all down a different path. Especially him. Though I normally don't speak of others, I remember young Riddle. He will need you a great deal if he is to be freed from the fate I see in your memories. Now, where to put you. What you did was certainly very brave of you, you know. Perhaps Gryffindor… It took Lilith threatening to serve the Hat to the Basilisk as a snack for Deorwine to finally say Slytherin. Salazar would never hear the end of this as she had never wanted to be considered for Gryffindor, all because she followed through with the plan they both agreed to. Though even she could admit that it was Lillian who was better suited for Slytherin and that Lilith was better suited for Gryffindor, though that didn't matter now. She was needed in the Snake Pit.

Strengthening her resolve to ignore the Samhain rituals, she dug into her meal slowly, her eyes sweeping the Great Hall in its unusually silent state. Then again, she could only see the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables as Tom had taken the more strategic position. Still, sitting opposite him was better than beside him. There were already rumours floating around about them being a bit close. Though to be fair, they were mostly true, as Tom didn't seem all that close to anyone else. His closer companions were currently the Malfoy and Nott heirs, the former from an Old and Noble family exiled from France and the latter a member of an Old and Noble family that wasn't as politically powerful as it wanted to be. She knew that it was in the next few years that the two Houses were due to flourish, with Tom growing his base alongside them and the others. For now, however, he was still too ignorant of his bloodline to use it as an effective bartering tool. While being a Parselmouth made him a likely successor to Salazar Slytherin, it wasn't a guarantee. He needed the proof to make the claim and use it politically. So, for the moment, Tom Riddle was simply the polite, intelligent but socially awkward member of Slytherin House. Her close proximity had certainly made everyone else take more notice of both of them, which was somewhat annoying. Tonight, however, she hoped for a more private time. Something better suited to both of them.

As the feast ended and the students started making their way out, a soft hand reached out to her. "Lily." Burying any discomfort that came with that nickname when Snape and Luna had used it, Lilith turned towards Cassandra and gave her a questioning look. Luna's Grandmother was certainly more composed than her granddaughter ever was, which might have come from having a family member that understood her. The Dowager Moon had apparently been a powerful orator within the Wizengamot but had kept away from politics the moment her first born son came of age, allowing Leonard to develop further as his own person, even taking his father's name to distance himself from the former Chief Witch. The young Cassandra, born to the Dowager's second son, had no problem relating to her Grandmother and apparently the two had a strong bond that only grew as Cassie's Seer heritage awoke within her. Seeing the way Cassandra talked about her Grandmother strengthened Lilith's resolve that Cassandra would live to see her granddaughter's youth. Luna deserved to have both her mother and grandmother in her life, to help guide her through the hardships that being a Seer entailed. Her best friend had gone too many years without help and what little Lillian could do for her was not anywhere near enough.

Cassandra searched Lilith's eyes, probably seeing what might be coming tonight of all nights. "You need to be at the Hospital Wing before midnight. Please, promise me you will." Lilith nodded and gently squeezed her friend's hands. A time traveler and a Seer talking had been an interesting experience for Lilith, but she could see how it seemed to ease Cassandra's tension. Having someone taking your predictions seriously was probably something new to her, outside of her family. "I will, Cassandra. I promise." Cassandra nodded but lowered her eyes. "I don't like seeing you hurt. You always feel like you are hurting. You don't deserve it." Lilith pulled Cassandra into a soft hug. "Danke, for caring. It means alot to me. You should go to bed soon. If the Veil grows too thin, you might not like what you see slipping through. The Void on the other side is home to other things beyond just the dead. At least, that is what I have been led to believe." Cassandra nodded as they pulled apart. "I will and thank you. See you in History again, if you can keep your eyes open." Lilith giggled as she waved goodbye to the friend she never knew she would find here but was more than happy to have. Why anyone found the Seers so hard to be nice to she could never understand.

Tom entered what appeared to be an attic in the North Tower of Hogwarts Castle, climbing up a ladder and entering the dusty and abandoned room through a trapped door. He watched as Lilith's eyes took in the chamber, confused as to why she looked like it was both new and … familiar. "What is this place?" Lilith turned to him and shrugged. "Hard to say. So many rooms in the castle are abandoned and forgotten. I heard about this place from Cassandra." Tom thought for a second. "Cassandra Moon of Ravenclaw?" Lilith nodded as she drew out her wand. He watched as red and green sparks seemed to intersect the wood before she started doing the same ritual as when she used wandless magic. Soon enough the room was left dust free, leaving Lilith panting for air. She gave him a look of curiosity. "Are you able to conjure or transfigure furniture?" Tom looked towards the discarded tables and moldy sofas. "Transfigure. One moment." He closed his eyes as he drew his wand and focused on a pair of comfortable sofas and a coffee table. He waved his wand silently and the Transfiguration took effect, leaving behind two sofas with forest green cushions and the table he envisioned.

Lilith hummed in appreciation though Tom frowned when she pulled out a knife and started carving the wood of his creations. "What are you doing?" Lilith looked up at him as she finished carving the last sigil before charging the small array. "Transfigurations and Conjurations are temporary and vulnerable to some forms of magic. These sigils act as ward schemes, tying the magic down and reinforcing it. Your work could now, theoretically, last indefinitely under the wards of the Castle." Tom blinked at her in deep thought, even though the idea of his creations enduring eternity as part of the castle made him feel… fulfilled. How odd. "Is that something you are willing to teach me?" Lilith took a seat and leaned back. "Sure. It's not a family secret." As Tom took a position on the opposite sofa, with both sharing a side looking out the nearest window, Lilith pulled out a small box and placed it on the coffee table. "I hope I wasn't too presumptuous about inviting you here. If you would rather carry out a Samhain ritual, you are more than welcome to return to the Dungeons." Tom shook his head. "No, I am afraid I am not much of a fan of Samhain. You?" Lilith shook her head. "Halloween has never been a pleasant experience for me. There are enough reminders of death in my life. I don't need a whole day to celebrate the passing of everything I held dear."

Tom kept his jaw closed, his theory being proven true, though her use of the muggle term made his mind swirl with possibilities. He watched as she slowly opened the small box and frowned at what he saw within. "Is that a gramophone? It looks small." Lilith smiled at him. "It ought to be. I made it to be this size on purpose." He watched her attach the horn and lift up the needle, before placing a record on the turntable. As soon as the needle touched the record, the sound of a soft symphony filled the room. Tom instinctively closed his eyes and allowed the music to fill his thoughts, the style familiar. "More Chopin?" He opened his eyes and watched as she nodded. "This should have about thirty minutes of his work as performed by some of his closest students and their heirs." Tom frowned. "I thought those discs could only hold about ten minutes of sound." Lilith smiled at him. "Sure, the original ones have such limits. Music helped keep me sane over the summer and I started messing around with the way gramophones and recording discs worked. I managed to replicate and enhance them using enlarged pieces. As soon as they were all restored to their original size, the pieces still worked, though I needed to adjust the player's needle." Tom looked at the box in front of him. "You made this?" Lilith nodded. "Like I said, I was bored and I personally enjoy tinkering with cogs and gears. Though if I am honest…" Lilith leaned back onto the sofa and looked out the window.

"I just didn't want to be left with my own thoughts for too long. Having a problem that can be easily fixed with the right placement of a gear, a bit of electrum and some Runic arrays, not to mention the very music itself, was my way of letting my mind wander away from less pleasant thoughts." Tom sat back and listened to the soft music, finding himself in agreement with her sentiment. The long and awful silences of the Orphanage were the moments when he would often feel his mind wander. Thoughts of violence were among some of his most common in those dreadful moments, as were thoughts of pain and despair. Looking over at Lilith, he could see now more than the academic mind and the kind person she revealed to others. There was a fragility to her, a part that seemed to him like an open wound. For a brief second he wondered what he could make use of this vulnerability but he squashed that thought instantly. This moment of peace and relaxation was something that she had engineered and invited him to. This was a part of Lilith von Schwarzwald that no other student might get to see. He could see why she picked him. He didn't have the political need to hold her vulnerability against him. It angered him a little to feel so… insignificant. But that feeling too passed. This girl of fourteen had no desire to use him. That much seemed clear so far. Until that changed… he would indulge in these private moments. Moments that were for him and him alone to enjoy.

Headmaster Armando Dippet stepped into the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts Castle, closing the doors behind him, before warding them against being opened or heard through. He walked gently as he approached the far wall, hearing screams of pain that tugged even at his old heart. He stood silently as Teresa Prewett attended the young girl, her aid and trainee, Poppy Pomfrey, writing down her teacher's observations. He watched as the Madam sighed and stepped back even as Lilith von Schwarzwald released another ear piercing scream of pain as the girl slammed her fists into the medical bed. "Valerian Infusion at twice the normal dosage did nothing. Her pain is still through the roof. Any more and the medication will be toxic to her. Poppy, make sure you add a request for any other pain relieving potion varieties. I don't care how obscure or rare the materials are. We will approach her patron to assist us in acquiring the ingredients if it becomes necessary." Poppy nodded, her face covered in tears as she added the notes. "Should I fetch some Dreamless Sleep?" Teresa sighed but nodded. "Get it ready for as soon as the pain abaits, she is going to need it tonight after all this."

Seeing the Headmaster, Madam Prewett checked with Poppy if she was willing to stand watch, before the two stepped away. Armando looked back at the girl. "What happened?" Teresa looked back as another scream of pain filled the air, followed by some sobbing. "She arrived here just before midnight, feeling the onset of the attack. She barely reached the bed before her magics uncoiled and went rampant. I tried to stabilize it with every spell I know St. Mungos Healers use to reduce magical discharges from their more… unstable patients, but nothing would dampen the effects on her. Her body is literally a battle zone and she is just getting torn apart. There were some physical tears across her skin but nothing severe… for now." Armando sighed, rubbing his beard in thought. "I had hoped the magic of the Castle would have helped stabilize her. It seems I was wrong. Do we know if it's having a detrimental effect on her? If she would be safer elsewhere?" Teresa shook her head. "Based on her own observations and mine, it's the combination of sudden changes in magic that have a chance at triggering the effect. Her arrival at Hogwarts, the September Equinox, highly intense casting of spells on certain days and now Samhain. Yule is going to do a number on her, I am sure of it, no matter where she is." Teresa turned to the Headmaster. "Also, what the hell is Albus doing, treating her the way he is? The few times she lets her pride get the best of her in his class are the times she ends up here under my care."

Armando closed his eyes and rubbed his face. "I am afraid Albus sees much of Grindelwald in her. Her charm and ease of speech, not to mention her clear intelligence. The fact she is unabashed about being either a Dark Witch or a potential Black Witch does nothing to ease his concerns, even if her physical condition hardly makes her a threat to anyone." Teresa growled. "I don't care if she is demonspawn, Armand! If he ends up triggering another episode I am going to be dropping him to the ground myself. I didn't train to be a Healer to watch a girl suffer as she is anymore than what the world is already forcing so many to go through. Poppy had to take Dreamless Sleep on the bloody Equinox with how much watching Lilith harmed her. I couldn't bring myself to tell her not to. I might need to get her some more tonight." Armando nodded. "Very well, I will issue Albus a warning. If he does it again, I will have Miss von Schwarzwald study Transfiguration on her own and be evaluated by the Ministry's Examiners." Teresa sighed but nodded. "I suppose that is all we can do." The two turned as they heard the screams lower in volume until all they heard were whimpers. Teresa returned to the girl's side, measured a proper dose of Dreamless Sleep and administered it as Dippet's thoughts grew heavy.

Allowing the girl to attend Hogwarts had never been in question. She was intelligent and diligent, as proven by her entrance exams and all of her written assignments. He didn't care that her family was as infamous in the Continent and beyond as Grindelwald had become. The von Schwarzwalds were feared, yes, but they never acted out of violence or petiness. The family had been guarding secrets within their Estate in Austria for millennia, keeping the locals from experiencing the worst that Dark Creatures could unleash. Even now, as the war grew worse, rumours out of the Bregenz region tell of the Shadow Wolves growing bold and violent, the Hags and Erlkings brazingly testing the limits of the old magics guarding the villages. The locals' relationship with the von Schwarzwald family was the only reason lives hadn't been lost since their absence. The Dark Creatures needed to be contained by their most powerful masters and now… now that fate fell on the shoulders of a little girl going through a most harrowing state. When his old friend told him about the girl he was acting as patron for, he knew Lilith von Schwarzwald was important. That she needed to be cared for by the school's healer was never in doubt when her condition was revealed to Madam Prewett. Still, seeing it, hearing it and even feeling it through his magic… made the task all the more pressing to Armando Dippet. This was a student who needed their help. They would do what they could to provide it.

"Riddle. Do you have a moment to go over my work for Dumbledore's next class?" Tom looked towards Nott and nodded, taking a seat beside him at one of the few available tables in Slytherin's common room. "How was your evening?" Theodore shrugged. "Same as every other year, though Abraxas and I both felt a chill in the air. We asked around and some of the other Slytherin's did feel it as well." Tom looked at Nott and raised an eyebrow. "We are in an old Castle. There is such a thing as drafts." Nott shook his head. "Not like this. Not on Samhain. I sent a letter home to my father to ask him about it, just in case. The prevailing theory among the older students and even Professor Croaker is that something is happening. Something that will lead to a great loss of life." Tom tried his best, he really did, but he had to rub his eyes slightly. "You are aware that Europe is at war, right? With Russians and the Germans fighting, it's almost guaranteed to get bloody quickly. Not to mention all the ships that are being sunk out in open water, taking hundreds, if not thousands of people to their deaths in a few hours." Nott took a moment to think but shook his head. "It could be the war but this felt more… Hogwarts related. As if death itself had walked through the Castle's corridors."

Tom felt his body shudder at the thought. "Thank you for that… less than pleasant thought, Nott." Theodore did look a little bit guilty. "Sorry about that." The two remained silent as Tom checked over Nott's assignments, making alterations, annotations and corrections. As he was close to finishing, he heard someone approach the Common Room while talking. "Nothing. No trace of her at all. How the hell does she do that? One moment she is seated in the library talking to Moon and Myrtle, of all people, and the next she's just gone. No one has seen her at all since last night. It's like we're following a bloody ghost." The person with them, an older student by the sound of their voice, spoke up. "Maybe she is. Everyone thought that the Schwarzwald family were dead, even though she was still alive. Maybe she is some Dark Magic construct. A dead soul possessing its own body." The two Slytherins appeared, Tom recognizing one as Anton Bryce and the other as Raphael Lestrange. The sight of them together was slowly becoming more common. The two fifth years were among the group of students still gravitating towards Rosier, despite his failing support among the House. Tom could see the reasons as to why both were being so loyal. As future sixth year students, they would be poised to take over Rosier's position as King in a year or two. Getting Rosier's support and that of his allies would improve their standing, especially with Bryce.

The older boy with brown hair and green eyes was apparently not all that dissimilar from Tom. A Halfblood who only knew the identity of his mother's family and had been sorted into Slytherin. He was studious but was known to be a lot more politically minded, always trying to suck up to Rosier as a way to avoid becoming a target for him. Tom lowered his gaze back to Nott's paper, dismissing the two from his thoughts for a second. He hated looking at Bryce as it always seemed like looking into a broken mirror, a view of what Tom might have become if he had stooped so low as to grovel at the feet of Purebloods. That would never be him. He refused to place himself in the mercy of others ever again. Nott nudged his shoulder and gestured behind him, making Tom look around. He watched as the two boys were talking in hushed whispers at an irritated Rosier, who only seemed to grow more furious. The young man turned and looked in Tom's direction, growling. "The hell you're looking at, Halfblood?" Tom sighed in his head, frustrated with how dreadfully predictable the Pureblood ponze could be as he strutted towards him, clearly interested in redirecting his ire. Except he never reached Tom.

The moment he stepped over the central gap between the sofas, the young man was suddenly pulled to the ground. Arcs of red magic seemed to cover his clothes which, in hindsight to anyone with a brain, should have been taken as an indicator to keep away. Travers, ever the loyal dog, failed to heed the clear warning and reached out to help Rosier up. The seventh year got launched back and away, hitting the sofa and tipping it over. Those gathered who weren't afraid of Rosier started to laugh as he struggled to get up from the floor, before he seemed to get a moment of clarity. After the ponze drew his wand and aimed it at the floor, everyone heard him say "Finite". Except nothing happened. It was on his third try at freeing himself that whatever ward had been holding down launched him out. The ward did end up launching him into a grouping of his allies, tumbling them all down like a house of cards. Tom had to resist smiling, especially as Professor Slughorn walked into the common room, Bryce just beside him. "What is going on here?" All the students stayed clear of the center of the room as they explained what had occurred to the professor. The man took out his wand and checked the carpet before checking the floor underneath it, finding nothing.

Slughorn sighed and looked towards the students. "Why don't you all go outside for a moment. It's not too chilly to enjoy the fresh air just yet." The student took the hint as the professor rubbed his chin pensively, his eyes checking the roof of the chamber. Abraxas walked up to Tom and Theodore, the young boy struggling not to laugh out loud. "That… was absolutely priceless." Nott nodded before looking at Tom. "Was that your work?" Tom shook his head as Abraxas smiled. "No offence to Riddle, but that felt more like our vindictive Austrian having more fun at Rosier's expense." Theodore nodded as they reached the inner courtyard, the three of them enjoying the crisp and cool morning air of early November. The two purebloods sat down on the bench as Tom reclined on the tree behind them. "Do you think it was targeted?" Tom hummed to himself. "Doubt it. Best guess it's a motivation based ward scheme. Rosier intended to hurt or humiliate me. That must have triggered the ward… wherever it was." Abraxas nodded. "Sounds about right. Still an exceptional piece of magic. By the way, has anyone seen her this morning?" Tom tensed a little as both didn't see her, with Nott being as much of an early riser as Tom and Lilith.

His eyes sweeped the growing number of Slytherins in the Courtyard, not seeing her. Was she being held back by Slughorn to clean out the ward? "She isn't in the Slytherin Dorms." Tom froze and turned to the source of the voice. Cassandra Moon looked Tom right in the eyes, with Tom noticing that her eyes were a bit red as if the girl had been crying. "Did something happen to her?" The Ravenclaw looked away, with Tom looking in the direction but not seeing anything. "She's ok now. She will tell you when she is comfortable enough to discuss it with you. She will be happy, though, to hear about your concern." Tom frowned. This girl was either reading him wrong or off her rocker. He wasn't worried about Lilith… wasn't he? Those light grey eyes focused on him again. "It's hard to change what has already been in motion but it's not impossible. So long as the soul remains whole… no path will be lost to you." The Ravenclaw smiled at him as she walked away, leaving the three confused. "What… is her deal?" Abraxas shrugged. "No clue… she's always been a bit of an odd girl, talking nonsense. Everyone just says that she is crazy." Tom frowned, his eyes looking in the direction she had looked at when he asked about Lilith. Wasn't that the direction of the Hospital Wing? "Maybe… maybe not."

Chapter 6: Solitary Winter

Resting his chin on his hand, Tom stared out the window and watched as a light snowfall covered the grounds of Hogwarts. Winter was always a double edged sword for him at the Castle. On the one hand it meant that a vast majority of the students would be heading home, leaving behind a peaceful and quiet castle for Tom to explore. On the other hand… it was just another reminder that he had nowhere to go back to. Though he considered Hogwarts more of a home than most people, he knew his time here would eventually end. Sure, one day he could return and live in the Castle as a Professor, or perhaps as something more. But it still meant he would have nowhere to go once he was outside. He could certainly go research Magic all on his own, but that would have to wait. So long as the continent was at war, Europe was the least safe place to travel to or even simply move through currently. He looked back at the other students in the classroom, all of them still working on the latest Runes exam, translating and organizing Futhark symbols into meaningful sentences. The last part of the exam was the first time in Runes that the students were asked to properly write a basic ward scheme.

Rather than going for a basic ward that blocked entry to whatever was warded, Tom reworked it to include a gap where the ward could be disabled if the proper symbols were utilized. He hoped that Professor Bierley, a former Ravenclaw student with short brown hair and wearing glasses that had adjustable lenses, found his design inspired enough to warrant a bit of extra credit. The woman, known to be descended from a Lacashire Witch Coven, was both the teacher for the Runes course as well as the Enchanting Elective, encouraged her students to take her lessons and expanded upon them. Looking to his side, Tom noticed that Lilith was reading her text intently, her fountain pen resting against her lower lip until she used it to write a note or two on her smaller notebook. Curious as to what she was reading, Tom nudged himself a bit closer to look at the books' pages, his eyes widening a little. The text was either encrypted to be illegible or written in a language he couldn't understand. Then again, she did come from a secretive house of supposed Dark Witches and Wizards. It could be both and he wouldn't know the difference. The few diagrams, however, were odd. They seemed to show stones and gems with runics sequences attached to them. Were they wardstones?

He knew she was ahead when it came to warding, especially after it became clear that whatever wards she had placed within the Slytherin Common Room would be there for a while None of the Professors were able to find the source, though oddly enough the Headmaster was able to interpret the intentions of the wards. According to the Headmaster, the ward, which seemed to extend to the entire Slytherin Common Room, was designed to prevent any student from acting on any violent intent towards another. The ward would restrain said students until the intent was gone or the student was released by the timer on the ward, which seemed to be a safety measure, just in case some poor soul got stuck long enough for it to become dangerous to their health. The ward would be allowed to remain as the Staff determined how it was introduced into the Dorms, though they planned to remove it eventually. Safe to say, the younger years and most of the girls seemed happy about the fact that the ward would stay in place for quite a while, while Rosier and his group were outraged. Not that they could voice it to the professors. If his suspicions, well everyone else's suspicions in Slytherin as well, were true, then it was Lilith's work. If she could effectively introduce a ward into the Slytherin Dorms, could she find wards elsewhere in the castle? Could she uncover any of the supposed secret chambers?

Tom returned his attention to the window, weighing the benefits of informing her of his search. Lilith would either recognize the truth of what he was asking for or would ask for it before rendering assistance. That meant trusting her with a secret he had kept from everyone but Dumbledore since he could remember. The bastard had initially shown a measure of intrigue about Tom's assertions about speaking to snakes. When he arrived at the school, was sorted into Slytherin and began to uncover the possibility that he was Salazar Slytherin's heir, he had to go and ask the Deputy Headmaster about it. The man showed his true colors then. "While it is true that Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth like you, Tom, the man became overly concerned with the need to preserve the bloodlines of the Witches and Wizards of the age. He began to delve into the Dark Arts, twisting his once brilliant mind into one that was abhorrent to the other Founders. He was cast out from the castle, never to be seen again. Believe me Tom, no good will come of searching for anything he left behind. Some things are best left buried."

Feeling the familiar rise of his anger, Tom took a few deep breaths, getting his emotions back under control, though for some odd reason… his anger felt as if it was greater than he seemed to remember. The very thought of Dumbledore interfering with his plans had almost overwhelmed him with a blind fury. Eventually, the feeling dissipated, as Tom returned his attention to his plans for searching the Castle while everyone else was gone. Dumbledore may have been happy to leave the secrets of the past buried, but for Tom that was all he had. Secrets, voids of information, knowledge that he needed to acquire. He looked to his side again and paused as Lilith seemed to be eying him with… concern? Tom frowned then remembered that he had taken a few deep breaths earlier to calm his unexpected surge of anger. He tried his best to give her a reassuring smile, which seemed to work. As soon as the warning bell sounded, he and Lilith, along with the rest of the students that finished their tests early, left the classroom. Walking just behind Lilith, Tom again thought about trusting her with his secret in the hopes of getting her expertise. He shook his head. Not yet. They had barely known each other for three months. She was intelligent, resourceful and oddly generous, but he needed to be sure of her loyalty to him before trusting her with his absolute truth. He wasn't ready to do that. Not yet.

Lilith slowly opened her eyes, her body aching all over. Turning to her side, her eyes focused on a dark haired man sitting on a chair next to her bed, a book in his hands. Her movement apparently caught his attention as he closed the book and looked her in the eyes. "Hello again, young lady. Do you think you can answer a few questions for me?" Lilith managed to sit up and look around her, her loose red hair covering her eyes slightly. She frowned as the room looked familiar, while pulling the erant strands behind her ear. "Are we still in Peverell Manor?" The man nodded. "We are. Now the question is, how do you know about this place? Lothbrok was quite clear in our most recent correspondence that he hasn't informed anyone about this property. Certainly no teenage girls." Lilith bristled. "I am seventeen and of age!" The man raised an eyebrow, looking her over. "Right, let's try another approach. What was the year in which you were born?" Lilith frowned, her thoughts regarding the answer jumbled. "198… " Lilith caught herself but not fast enough. He inclined his head to the side. "Ahh, that makes a lot more sense now. You aren't from this time period, are you? Not entirely." Rubbing her face in exacerbation, Lilith shook her head. At this point, she felt that there was no point in trying to deny his deduction. "No, I am not."

The man moved the seat closer and turned on the light beside Lilith on the bedside table. His blue eyes stared into hers. "When you arrived, you said your name was Lillian. Is that the name of the soul or the body?" Lilith sighed. "The soul… I think. I am so confused. I… I can see, remember and feel memories of this age that aren't my own, yet I can remember the life I lived decades from now. The memories of Lillian feel fresh to my mind, but Lilith's are still there." The man leaned back. "Attempts at stepping back in time usually require the transfer of both a body and a mind. In this case your soul and your memories seemed to have travelled back in time, with no body of their own. Now, out of curiosity, which life did this belong to?" The man raised a familiar looking bundle of cloth. Lilith reached out and touched it, the man allowing her to take it and place it on her lap. "Lillian's. This was considered a Potter Family Heirloom in my time." The man leaned back as the Cloak seemed to shimmer in her grasp. "Interesting. It seems to recognize you as its owner. The fact that it followed your soul into the past seems to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are, or at least were, related to the Peverells. That you were here in the 1990's would suggest that I allowed the property to become available. Or…" the man turned pensive as he looked Lilith over. "What happened that forced you to take such a drastic action as time travel? You also mentioned the name Salazar."

Lilith rubbed her hair, feeling how curly it was compared to when she was in her previous body. "In my time.., there was another war. Two wars were fought between the Dark and the Light factions in a period of over thirty years. Over half the magical population of the Isles was made extinct, families as old as the Wizengamot were left lifeless and the two major forces were tearing each other apart in a final battle. I was in Slytherin's Chamber, staying out of the fighting, when I scried who had tried to open one of the entrances. I heard my god sibling and self appointed Champion of the Light talk about killing the Dark Lord and about the things said man created to survive death. Horcruxes." The man beside her took a deep breath. "Horcruxes…As in plural?" Lilith nodded. "They had apparently destroyed all but one, and they suspected there was another… buried within me." The man's wand shot out and Lilith's instincts had her reaching out and grabbing hold of his wrist. The two stared at each other, neither willing to move. "This Horcrux… is it gone?" Lilith stared at him, her grip on his wrist as strong as she could make it. "It is. It was part of the reason the stupid ritual worked in the first place. Though Salazar Slytherin neglected to mention what would happen to the soul if it traveled back to a time when its body didn't exist."

The man relaxed his grip and allowed his wand to fall onto the bed, which Lilith quickly grabbed. The moment her magic tried to connect with the wand she felt a sharp pain shoot down her arm. She bore through it, not wishing to show any more weakness. The man smirked at her, guessing at what occurred as he sat back. "Huh. So, what are your plans now, young lady?" Lilith frowned as she clenched her fists. "I hadn't planned that far ahead. I didn't even know when or where I would end up, let alone finding myself in a body that wasn't my own. Right now I just know that I need to help protect the future Dark Lord." Her eyes widened as her head snapped up as soon as the date, well at least the year that she arrived at, became clear. "Who is currently at Hogwarts as a student." The man beside her chuckled. "Well, it seems that your current physical condition is adequate for the task. Though we are going to need to get your documents settled." Lilith turned to look at the man, raising an eyebrow at him. "We?" The man smiled at her. "What, were you planning on doing this all on your own? You arrived in Wales without any documentation, money or any idea what to do. You are going to need some help and I am willing to lend a hand."

Lilith looked the man over. "Why? Why would you be willing to help me?" The man took a deep breath. "For quite a few reasons. If your future is indeed as screwed up as you say and the ritual sent you to this time, then it means that I may need to step up and do something about the situation. As a Peverell it is my duty to protect Albion's future, no matter what name it goes by now. As to why I will help you personally… you may be in someone else's body and will likely be going by its original name, but your soul is that of a Peverell." He gestured at the Cloak in her hands. "That Cloak is a Peverell Heirloom. That it followed you here is proof that you are worthy of my help." Lilith frowned. "Just who are you? According to the Goblins, no Peverell has been born with the family name in almost seven hundred years." The man chuckled. "Clever Goblins. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Alexander Peverell, Head of the Most Ancient House of Peverell. While I might not be in the public eye, I can assure that I have some means to aid you in your task. That is, if you are willing to trust me with it." Alexander stood up and left his hand open for her. Lilith looked at the hand before staring at the man's eyes, seeing nothing but a genuine desire to help her. She returned the wand into its owner's possession. "Right. Where do we start?"

Lilith stared at the notice board within the Slytherin Common Room, specifically at the list of names for everyone who would be staying. One particular name stood out to her. Tom would be staying in the Castle for the Yuletide Break. Lilith felt a little guilty. She wanted to stay at the Castle and get to know him better. To grow their relationship into one of trust. But she had responsibilities that needed to be addressed outside of Hogwarts, both to settle the sheer amount of chaos that the Schwarzwald family's situation had been thrown into, thanks to Grindelwald's cowardice, and to perhaps find some of Tom's family before he did. According to the version she found in the Diary, he knew his father's name was his own and Neville Longbottom had sworn that he had been portkeyed to a location that included said man's tomb. Alexander had been kind enough to find the location on the map. There was a part of her that was somewhat excited about visiting the area. Little Hangleton just happened to be within the infamous Dartmoor area of Devon, a region she knew was filled with stories of Fae and even the spectral hounds that inspired one of her favorite stories from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Lilith's connection to schattenwolves ran deep and, knowing that Barghests and spectral hounds shared a connection to the creatures of her home, made visiting a place they might inhabit of great personal interest to her.

Her excitement did dwindle as she walked away from the board and left the Common Room, her eyes lingering on the main hidden entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. As far as she knew, Tom wouldn't find it this year. But that was before she started meddling with time, though whether or not her meddling would have unforeseen consequences, she wasn't entirely sure. If there was one thing she was happy about running into Alexander, it was having someone to talk her out of making decisions that could affect millions of lives just on the whim of saving as many lives as possible. Though those choices weighed heavily on her. She had thought about contacting MACUSA as a possible Seer, letting them know that an attack on the Hawaii Naval Base of Pearl Harbor would drag America into the war. Even in the future there were discussions about Roosevelt knowing it was coming and letting it happen anyways. What would be the harm in giving them a clearer idea of the attack? Alexander had shut her down hard. "Believe me, if half of what you have told me about this time period is true, there is a lot that would make me want to alter history. However, making changes blindly will result in your information becoming worthless. Right now the war is being managed by Grindelwald and by his mundane puppets. The former is dedicating all his attention to Europe, especially Italy where some of the ancient Roman Families have decided against following in Musolini's footsteps. Drawing his attention away now, especially with Hitler's attention consumed by the Soviet Union, would be unwise."

So, after December 7th, the news from North America were as she expected them to be. The Japanese had successfully attacked Pearl Harbor and America had officially joined the War. It was now a true World War and there was nothing Lilith could do about the horrors that were yet to come. She would have to hear about them happening in real time, knowing exactly what Hitler was doing behind Germany's extended borders. Lilith clenched her fists. She hated it. She hated knowing the future and feeling powerless to stop it. But right now she had no choice but to let time run its course. As she entered the Great Hall for breakfast before the train would take the students back home, she looked over the tables. Not seeing Tom, Lilith nodded in Alphard's direction before sitting down beside Cassandra. Her and Myrtle seemed to be discussing the merits of certain holiday treats, which made Lilith's stomach ache. As she served herself breakfast, Cassandra looked at her and frowned. "What's wrong?" Lilith shrugged. "There was a part of me that wanted to stay at the Castle but responsibilities require me to leave Hogwarts for the Yuletide." Cassandra gave her a knowing look. "He will be ok." Myrtle, Cassandra's classmate brightened at that. "Ohh, have you found yourself a boyfriend?" Lilith blushed. "No, just a boy who I wish to be friends with. Nothing more."

Myrtle groaned about missing out on girl talk, before she and Cassandra reverted back to talking about sweets. "What about you, Lily? Any sweets you are looking forward to?" Lilith thought for a second. Lillian had been partial to apples, especially apple pie, which Sirius had taken to a ridiculous level in providing for her when they lived together. Lilith's palate was a lot more diverse with the sort of upbringing she had, having tasted pastries from all across Europe, though one particular dish stood out to her. "Stollen." Cassandra and Myrtle gave her a blank look and Lilith wracked her brain for the right translation. "I think you call it fruitcake? My father used to have it almost every day during the Yuletide. Mother… complained about him gaining weight from it… but she always indulged him." The thoughts of her recently deceased family smashed through Lilith's mind. Images of her father Nicholas getting berated for eating too much by wife, though Grazyna von Schwarzwald née Dominik always had a smile on her face as she served Lilith a bigger slice, much to her dad's overly dramatic complaints about favoritism. The warmth of their many Christmases together filled Lilith's heart, before a raging fire filled her mind, the screams of her parents dying as they tried to fight off the intruders being the last thing she remembered before Grindelwald's lackey killed her within her own bedroom.

Lillian had never known her family, only bonding with Sirius and, to some extent, Severus and Salazar, but Lilith had loved her parents. The pain that had lain buried since the moment that Lilith's body breathed new life again, carrying the soul of Lillian Potter, awoke violently inside of her, smashing through the Occlumency Lilith had spent weeks rebuilding. Tears started streaming from Lilith's eyes as she struggled to keep herself from wailing in pain. Cassandra sensed the change and pulled Lilith to her, stroking her friend's hair quietly. "It's ok. It's ok. It was insensitive of us to ask." Lilith was grateful for Cassandra, more than she could ever admit. In Slytherin such displays would be used against her, a weakness to be exploited at a later date. Cassandra had no such concerns. Lilith was really glad she had found a friend in Luna's grandmother, someone who could understand not only the pain of knowing what the future held, but also the fact that Lilith was more than just the persona that everyone saw. Luna had been able to see through Lillian just as easily and Lillian had loved her for it. As Cassandra helped calm Lilith down, the redhead swore once more that Luna would get to meet her grandmother. The two deserved to love and care for each other as a family for all they had done for her in both of her lives.

Tom allowed his hands to wander over the Castle's walls as he walked through one of the Dungeons many corridors, searching for any clue to Slytherin's Chamber. He had already searched the first and second floors to the best of his abilities, but found nothing that would indicate a hidden passage. Of course, there were floors well above those, but Slytherin was known to prefer the lower floors of the Castle, hence why his house's Common Room was in the Dungeons. If there was ever a place where the Chamber and its entrance had to be, it was here. The fact that the dream he had in the summer indicated as much made him wonder what it would mean if he did indeed find the entrance. Would the dream be less of a flight of fancy and more of a sign of something more? His recent interactions with both Lilith and her friend Cassandra certainly made him question a lot about what could be seen through magic's keen eye. Taking a second to check that nobody was watching, Tom leaned against the wall and whispered in Parseltongue. ~"Reveal your secrets."~ For the longest time no noise was heard.

"Still looking for things best left buried are we, Tom?" Taking a moment to control his first instinct, which was to curse with all his might, Tom turned around and looked at the Deputy Headmaster as stoically as possible. "Professor Dumbledore. Still wasting your time keeping children away from their birthrights, are we?" Albus Dumbledore walked up to him, Tom noticed the man's blue eyes trying to catch his own in direct line of sight, but the fourth year knew better than to look back at him and turned his gaze away, looking over the Deputy Headmaster's shoulder. Tom had poured every inch of the memory of their first encounter and realized that Dumbledore could only read his mind with eye contact. He was able to learn about Occlumency and Legilimency but had yet to find any books that dealt with the proper instruction of the two, only finding a fragment in another text that described the initial preparation for Occlumency. His mind had gained a great deal of focus and clarity since that day, but sealing away his thoughts was still something that he couldn't test without a trusted ally. Tom's thoughts seemed to give him a glimpse of Lilith, making him wonder why it felt so easy to trust her. Dumbledore, giving up on reading the boy's mind, sighed. "It is nearly curfew, Tom. Shall I escort you to the Slytherin Common Room?"

Knowing that the question was really a command, Tom bit down on his objection and walked in the direction of the Slytherin Dorms. As they walked, Albus spoke up. "I have noticed you seem to have a pleasant association with Miss Schwarzwald." Tom stayed silent as Dumbledore continued. "It's not unexpected, really. She is clearly well educated, diligent and quite the charming young woman. For a Black Witch." Tom dared to look at him out of the corner of his eye. "And that is supposed to mean something to me, Professor?" Dumbledore hummed to himself. "I do not make this comment lightly, but I would steer clear of Miss Schwarzwald, Tom. She has made many powerful enemies in the Continent and their influence can easily reach within Great Britain. Enemies that have every right to fear her and the Darkness within her." Tom scoffed. "She's a fourteen year old girl." Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed she is, yet she survived a raid carried out by Grindelwald's elite forces against a heavily fortified and isolated structure. She was the only survivor. There are many who wonder what magic she must have tapped in order to succeed where her immensely powerful and deadly parents failed. The Schwarzwald family are known practitioners of the Darkest Arts. They would have been put to death centuries ago had their wealth and power not delayed the inevitable."

Tom sighed. "I don't believe Miss von Schwarzwald would appreciate such talk. Whatever their predilection to magic was, family was still family." Dumbledore turned to look at him. "True… though there are cases where the fruits are just as deceased as the tree from which they are born. Regardless, fate has judged them poorly and they have paid the price. You would do well to heed my warnings. What you search for within these walls will bring you nothing but pain and suffering, just as she will if you continue to stand by her side. It is only a matter of time when her line is brought to an end. Do not let yours suffer the same fate. It is better to live peacefully in ignorance than to become burdened by the sins of the past." Reaching the Common Rooms entrance, Tom silently left the Deputy Headmaster behind. He sat at his desk, noting down the sections of the dungeons he had just searched, sighing as there was still much to search of the old Castle. He looked over the latest scores on his exams. If everything went as planned, he would be securing the position of Prefect within six months. When that happened, his ability to search the Castle would be greatly increased. The only concerns would be his fellow Prefects.

Of the current sixth year Prefects, Tom was certain it would still be Walburga and Gawain Fawley, as hecdoubted either of them would become the Head Boy or Head Girl and require a replacement. If he could secure their trust, his ability to search the Castle would be far improved. In the current fifth year Prefects, gaining Lucretia's favor would be a bit more difficult. Unlike Walburga, Lucretia exhibited a greater drive for excellence than cunning. She would rather do the assignments perfectly of her own effort than allow him to aid her, making her a tough person to work with. Cygnus, however, would be easier to convince as he was more fond of spending time with his friends and Druella Rosier. That just left the future female Prefect of his year. As of right now, the ones best suited for the role would be Druella herself, who was ambitious but not overly so when compared to her older cousin, and Lilith von Schwarzwald. Between the two, Lilith was certainly the favorite. Though her grades were limited by her apparent lack of practical prowess with magic, her academic record was spotless. Add to that the level of trust that she had built with the other students, especially the younger years, and the matter was practically settled. Was that why Dumbledore was trying to seperate them? Because he suspected that she might be nominated as a Prefect by Slughorn, or did his animosity run deeper than that? Tom wasn't certain.

Tom also wasn't sure what Lilith's goals were beyond her claims to wage war against Grindelwald and his allies. He suspected that she was interested in strengthening the positions of the Blacks within Hogwarts, potentially earning their favor beyond the Castle. If Tom were to get her to side with him, the combined strength of the Blacks, Notts, Malfoys and their own allies would be a force to be reckoned with. Lilith's own circle of friends extended further into the Ravenclaws, with the Moons. Which left the question as to whether or not she could be trusted. Prefects tended to be paired for patrols with their yearmates, with it being more common with housemates. If he wanted to search the Castle after curfew, she would be of greater help as a confidant. Was that something that she was engineering or was it a coincidence? Tom wasn't sure. What was certain is that he needed to spend more time with her, getting to know the person beneath the smile and the confidence. If they could build a relationship on trust, it would go a long way in securing his hopes and dreams. As Tom prepared for bed, he kept thinking about how to build that relationship, not realizing that he was no longer seeing it as an if but a when.

Apparating to just outside the edge of town, Lilith navigated her way through the snow covered streets. She could see some of the people out and about, eyeing her and her more masculine choice of winter resistant clothes oddly, as an adolescent walking the cold and windswept streets in a town far removed from the more civilized sections of Britain. Getting the aid of both the local constabulary and the mayor, she was eventually driven up the long and unpaved roads leading up to a Manor, the drive passing by a small caretaker's house and a graveyard, its gravestones and the names of the deceased hidden from sight by a thin layer of snow. The owner of the car waited for her in the roundabout before the Manor's front door as Lilith made her way to the door and knocked on it calmly. The door opened and a young woman with light reddish brown hair and green eyes looked at her oddly. "May I help you?" Lilith nodded, her breath visible as she spoke. "Happy Holidays. I am here wishing to speak with Thomas Riddle, the owner? I had a chat with the mayor who informed me that the Manor was the best place to verify the current extent of the property lines in the area. He gave me copies of the one's held in town but warned me that it was better to check here, as the Manor's records go farther back and would help me avoid any unpleasant legal battles."

The woman gave her an appraising look, her frown making it clear she wasn't impressed, but her duties as one of the Manor's hands seemed to win out. "If that isn't your vehicle, then you can send them on their way. You may step inside and out of the cold." Waving the constable to be on his way, with Lilith remembering his name to add to her Christmas List for his wonderful hospitality, she stepped into the foyer of Riddle Manor. She had to say it was a surprisingly beautiful place. The walls were a comfortable mix of colors with cream and burgundy going well with the dark oak pillars and trimmings. The home felt warm and comfortable, which made her feel a bit sad. This could have been Tom's home, instead of the streets of London and an Orphanage. Though if the Riddles were the more religious type, then it was still a toss up. "Thou shalt not suffer a Witch to live" was very much still part of the King James' Bible. Taking off her cloak and folding it around her arms, Lilith's eyes took in the rest of the foyer and the paintings down the corridors. It reminded her more of Grimmauld Place… after she and Sirius cleaned it up. That place still gave her nightmares with how unlivable it was for most of her first summer with her Godfather.

"It is rare to see visitors this far out of the way at this time of year." Lilith turned and looked at the aging figure descending down the stairs with the aid of a cane. He was clearly still quite young, probably in his sixties, with his hair still combed and slicked back. It made her feel odd as he looked like a much older Tom. He was certainly quite handsome. Bowing her head softly, Lilith responded to him. "My apologies for disturbing you, sir, in such a season, but my time free from my studies makes travel nearly impossible. As I informed your aide, I was curious to know if I could see your copy of the property lines for Little Hangleton. I have an interest in buying a plot of land or a decent property far removed from the noise of London or the other major cities and have been enquiring of the availability of land in these sparsely populated regions." The man reached the ground floor and held himself up well, with barely any weight on the cane, meaning it was more for balance's sake than difficulty walking. The man looked her over, noting her dress shirt and vest with some interest. "A bit young to be searching for a home, wouldn't you say my dear?"

Lilith gave him a sad look. "I am all that is left of my family, I am afraid. My name is Lily Dominik. My grandmother was from England and left my father an inheritance. My family is a bit continental, with my father being half Austrian and my mother Polish. With Hitler's forces all over the continent and my parents murdered…" Thomas gave her a sad look. "I see. I am deeply sorry for your loss. Why don't you leave your coat with Madeline here and we can go see the property maps in my study." Following the man up the stairs and through the corridors, they eventually entered an old but beautifully decorated study, with statues, photographs and even a painting of a horse covering the inner wall. "You do much riding in your youth, sir?" The man sat down and placed his cane against the desk. "I still do in the summers. Though it's harder now since my last horse and I had an accident. Now let's see…" The man dug into a drawer and pulled out a tall but thin book, which when opened revealed the property lines of the region drawn over parchment, marks indicating lines that were added or removed possibly going back centuries. "What are you looking for exactly, Miss Dominik?" Lilith hummed to herself as she searched the maps. "One large tract of land with some thinner strips that connect to the town. Utility and roads are a lot more important now and they need to be considered when procuring land."

Thomas chuckled. "That it is. We have our own troubles here with that. While the Manor has running water, electricity is still not available. We have been trying to get the necessary land to pass the cables through in a less unseemly way, but some holdouts have refused to sell." Lilith looked away from the map. "Are there plenty of families here with strong ties to the land that would oppose a purchase?" Thomas shrugged. "A few but most are further away from the town. Biggest headache we have here are the Gaunts." Lilith looked over the map, doing her best not to respond to the name Alexander had given her. "Are they the type to be a danger to others? I am looking for some peace and quiet, not for me and my future family to get mugged on their way to town." Thomas shook his head. "The Gaunts aren't as interested in bothering anyone so long as you stay clear of their current property… and any of the land they used to own before they were forced to sell due to debts." Lilith nodded. "And where would these lands be?" Thomas pointed at a thin strip of land that certainly was closer to town than the road her driver was forced to take. "Right here, though trouble will be less often now. Old man Marvolo passed on and no one has seen Merope since she and my son had a tryst. Only one left is Morfin, whose release from prison for attacking a government worker from London didn't seem all that effective in reforming him."

Lilith looked at the other sections of the maps. "If I wasn't able to get these connecting properties, where are some natural water sources in the area?" Thomas pointed to a few sections known to house wells and even an area where the larger water utility pipes ran through, where a request for the government to make an extension would be possible. Lilith noted all of these down, including the acres and the distance from the town, before Thomas invited her to sit for tea. The two walked down to a sitting room on the ground floor with a chimney and talked about the area and its history. When the subject turned to children, Lilith noticed that Thomas turned pensive. "I am sorry if I offended you. I can imagine the prospect of passing on this house and all its history weighs heavy on your mind." Thomas Riddle nodded. "It does. My son is my only heir, you see, and while he pursues the women of the town, none have found him appealing. He has taken to visiting nearby counties but he still struggles." Lilith tried to think how best to touch on the subject. "You mentioned he had a tryst with this Merope Gaunt. Could it be the source of his difficulties finding love?"

Thomas sighed. "Hard to say. Tom curses her name every once in a while, calling her a witch and other vile things. I met the girl myself a few times. She was certainly not the most beautiful but she was a shy and caring girl. She always made sure that our horses and men had water when we rode by the shack they called a home. Marvolo was not a kind father to her and I can't imagine Morfin was a good brother either. I would not have been opposed to Tom and her but whatever occurred between them has stained my son's view on women. He expects they will all be these monstrous and duplicitous sorts. I would say you would be a fine match, but you are far too young." Lilith blushed softly as she raised her cup of tea. "I am afraid I am indeed too young. I am not innocent enough to not know the minds of men but I am not interested in pursuing a man simply to provide them with a child." Thomas chuckled. "My wife would certainly have liked you. She was a spirited woman who loved to ride. A woman of the hills and the wind." Lilith chatted with him pleasantly and provided him with her mailing address. She left the Riddle Manor pensive, wondering what she might be able to do to help both Tom and Thomas. Maybe, just maybe, there was something here worth working towards.

Chapter 7: A Bloody Christmas

Doing her best to not be seen by wandering eyes, Lilith apparated to the edge of the Gaunt property under the Invisibility Cloak, her boots sinking almost knee deep in pockets of snow. As she approached the disheveled shack, she took the Cloak off but not before activating a notice-me-not charm specifically to keep anyone in the nearby moors from seeing her. Her heart started beating faster as she approached the door, a snake corpse nailed to it making her see why the Gaunts and other Parseltongues had never gotten along, especially concerning the Hogwarts Founder. Salazar Slytherin's reputation was unfortunately mired and warped by his so-called descendants and it had started while his corpse had yet to be burned and buried. The man she considered almost like a grandfather might not have been warm at first and he was certainly the cunning and somewhat manipulative man everyone believed him to be, but that didn't mean that he was heartless. After all, it was his heart that drove the man to leave Hogwarts, as the woman that he had loved as his second wife had been out about the country, looking for magical children and getting them and their parents to agree for them to refine their talents at Hogwarts, only for her to be caught by the religious zealots of the growing Christian presence. Aislinn Slytherin née Peverell lived a few more days, likely being tortured, raped and berated by her capters as Salazar searched for her, desperate to save her and bring her home. When he finally discovered where she was being held, he sought the help of the other Founders, only for them to refuse.

And to be fair to the other three Founders, some of them had their reasons for refusing his summons. Rowena had recently lost her beloved daughter Helena to the Bloody Baron in a murder suicide, the bodies having barely been delivered just a few months prior to Aislinn's disapperance. The woman was understandably distraught and was commonly seen wandering the castle's hallways in a delirious and emotional state, leaving the entire collection of keepers, teachers and those who were apprenticed under her fearing that she might seek to take her own life as well. For her safety and their peace of mind, she was given a room on the ground floor, under the careful and gentle care of Helga Hufflepuff. Said grey witch wasn't much help either, as her skills with magic weren't directed towards the martial arts or what would one day be called Transfiguration or Charms. She was a Witch who practiced Witchcraft, Potions, Herbology and Animal Handling. Her talents weren't suited to helping Salazar and her attention was already strained by the grieving Rowena and the burdens of the school. The call had essentially been directed to one man and he had unfortunately declined. For all of the talks of Godric Gryffindor being this noble and courageous wizard, those who spoke of his legend often neglected to mention one important detail. The man was a Dark Wizard, just like Salazar.

He had to be, as the head of the Martial Magics courses that eventually would be divided into the three wand based courses of Hogwarts; Defence, Charms and Transfiguration. The red haired Celt had built his entire reputation before Hogwarts as a Battlemage, engaging in combat with Goblins, Non-Magicals and even Giants. The phrase "don't tickle a sleeping dragon'' that became the school motto was partly in reference to him, as Salazar, who had grown to consider Godric as something like a brother, was prone to testing out new spells as pranks on the man. Salazar said that there was no sweeter prank than developing the Sonorus charm and applying it to Godric, before leaving a few poxies in his room. He swore the Castle shook from the curses that erupted from that man's mouth, especially since he happened to be drunk that night. The other teachers had torn into him for his wicked tongue as Salazar did his best to hold in his laughter. Still, for all of their pranks, they had been as close as two men could be without being blood or sharing the same bed. So when Salazar called for help, he had expected Godric to answer. Yet the man refused, as he didn't want to drag the school into further conflict with the Christians, not so soon after the first iteration of Hogwarts had been destroyed by them. He had hoped that Salazar could handle the matter himself, with the school electing to chastise him should the Christian's come knocking. That plan was never implemented as Salazar Slytherin died soon after finding the corpse of Aislinn, his will to live stripped away.

The destruction of the village and the death of both Slytherins sent shock waves throughout the Magical World of Scotland. Godric was inconsolable, literally drinking himself into the grave after failing the man he called a brother. The children of Salazar's first and second wives were outraged and left the castle, deciding that they would see to their own education from then on. They took residence with their maternal grandparents, the Serpens and the Peverells, except for the oldest daughter who was already married to a Gaunt. As Aislinn only had one child, a son, the boy chose to take the Peverell name, going on to become one of the many exceptional wandsmiths, Dark Hunters, and strong political leaders the family was known for, his legacy and talent as a Parseltoungue all but forgotten as his children never seemed to inherit the trait. The Serpens Family prospered for a time but they eventually entered into open warfare with the Gaunts. The Serpens revered the snakes who they could speak to and were a grey family, known to welcome and protect the Druids from the Christians within their homes. The Gaunts, not wishing to let the Serpens have any competing claims to the Slytherin name or legacy, attacked them in the dead of night, slaughtering them all. In the centuries since, the Gaunt family's legacy was wasted away as debts began to pile up, along with charges of rampant attacks against Muggles and other Magicals. Gormlaith's assault against the Sayre family in North America was the last straw, eventually getting the family kicked out of the Wizengamot and left with heavy financial losses.

The ramshackle hut before Lilith was all that was left of the once belligerent descendants of Salazar Slytherin. Squaring her shoulders, she approached the door, scrunching her nose at the sight of the snake, a clear reminder that the Gaunts still held no respect for the creatures they could speak with, and knocked. A few minutes later the door was opened and before her stood a man that reminded her of her godfather when they first met. Morfin Gaunt had an unkept hair and beard that looked to be somewhere between the colors of black and brown, though the smell made her wonder if the man bathed at all. His eyes had difficulty focusing on her, though his vision seemed to work just fine as he hissed at her. "What do you want, you harlot? If you are here to ask about father's will, there was nothing left for any bastard children, though I seriously doubt you are one. Father never was one for letting them reach adulthood." Lilith tried her best not to show that she understood him, though his assumption did make her wonder how many bastards the Gaunt family had. Then again, the fact that he just admitted that they killed their own blood for being born out of wedlock made such thoughts moot, especially as she saw the man slowly drawing his wand. "Morfin Gaunt is it? I am merely here to discuss the possibility of buying this land you're standing on. For a bit more than what the terrain is worth, though I am also able to offer another plot of land with a dewling. Would you be agreeable to discuss terms before you decide to use your wand?"

Morfin looked her over again. "Get lost, child. I ain't no fool. You got no coin to buy what this land be worth." Lilith raised an eyebrow. "I assure you that I do have the coin, sir, and I can assure you I have enough to afford both your plot of land and what I would offer in return. Working the horse stables of the local estates only earns you so much and your places of employment are some distance away. I can offer you a piece of land closer to them in exchange for this one, plus enough galleons to last you a year or so without employment. It should be an agreeable offer." The man smirked at her, exposing his crooked teeth. "Child knows the value of the Gaunt property. Gaunts don't sell for nothing! This land has been ours since the days of Salazar Slytherin. As for moving closer to the filthy muggles…" Morfin Gaunt spat at her feet. "I only work for the wretches to get food and even then it's with their horses, who are far more dignified company than their owners. Only reason I don't kill the muggles or own their lands, which rightfully belong to us, is because of the accursed Ministry. They placed a bloody Trace on my Wand, as if I was some impudent mudblood child. I am a Gaunt, heir of the many Noble, Ancient and Pureblood Houses of old!"

The man raised up his hand, showing her a ring on his finger, pointing at it with his other hand. "See this? This ring says I own this land for the rest of my life, no matter how much coin you offer me. This ring be of the old Peverells, old purebloods now gone but for the blood that runs through my veins! I am a true pureblood, better than you, tramp, and your nasty mixed blood parents. Better even than my whore of a sister of mine who ran away with a bloody muggle and died for it, the useless bitch. I am the Head of House Gaunt and we do not give that which is ours by birth. Not our land, not this ring, not even our flesh and blood! No matter how much filthy Goblin gold you offer us. Now leave. My wand has been itching to hurt another and though you are young, you will do. Might even enjoy your flesh for a bit. Show you what a real wizard can do!" The man laughed at his own words as he slammed the door in Lilith's face, misinterpreting her silence. She decided to leave, disappearing from sight behind a thick grove of trees near the property before apparating away. Her plans to deal with the remaining Gaunt had just been made a lot more complicated. She had hoped that the man would have some sense of self preservation, which he did, but clearly not enough to leave the land or to surrender what she knew was utterly priceless.

"What do you know about the Deathly Hallows?" Lilith looked up from the books she found in Alexander's library that discussed the different ways to enchant an object. The man had a far more extensive collection on the creation of magical objects than she had ever seen, whether as Lillian or as Lilith, some of the books dating back centuries, written by members of the family while it was still at its prime. With the way her magic was acting, creating enchanted objects and wards, temporary or otherwise, would be the best way for her to go through Hogwarts, even as the thought of going back to the Castle made her shiver and her wrist ache. Those bloody entrance exams were really giving her a hard time, especially the Defence Against the Dark Arts section. Writing down an appropriate answer rather than Lilith's far more detailed and involved understanding of the Dark Arts was an especially hard balance to maintain, especially when her brain kept trying to tell her to write in German when drawing from Lilith's memories. Still, if there was one thing that she knew was going to be a problem, it would be the wanded courses. The moment she had gone to Diagon Alley to retrieve her wand hadn't gone well. Not in the slightest.

"Curious." Lilith had felt utterly naked under Garrick Ollivander's careful eyes, the man being surprisingly young as the current minder of the Ollivander family's wand shop. "I take it this won't be the first wand you have ever used?" Lilith shook her head, feeling out of sorts on the day that she visited Diagon Alley in the exceedingly early morning. She hadn't wanted to run into anyone that she could blow her cover with and Ollivander could do that due to his family's unique gifts. Unfortunately, she needed a wand and Alexander wasn't in the business of making wands, with none of the spare wands belonging to the Peverell family responding well to her. Ollivander rubbed his chin as he finished measuring her, before he started placing boxes of wands in front of her. Many went inert the moment they landed on her hand, making Lilith's heart grow cold. She desperately hoped that the wands would awaken again should a proper owner arrive, even as she knew deep inside that the wands losing their magic could be traced back to her actions. She prayed that Ollivander didn't go on and speak about what had just happened in his store. She would have to warn Alexander, just in case some Unspeakables came looking for her. Eventually, the odd man came out from the back with a very new looking wand case and opened it, revealing a wand that made Lilith's heart ache. More accurately, it made Lillian's heart ache. "Hawthorn, 13 inches, flexible. Its core is a phoenix feather. One of my own creations, I must say."

Lilith took the familiar wand into her hand and felt her magics react. Half seemed eager and happy to be reunited with the wand, but the other part seemed to regard it with suspicion and dislike. Lilith yelped as she held the wand, even as the air around her filled with a swirling light. The magics eventually settled down, even as her wand seemed cold to the touch. Ollivander took the wand back and held it up to his ear. He nodded. "I see. The wand is suitable for you, but only just. The phoenix feather at its core, a gift from a wild and temperamental bird, seems to be of two minds concerning you. The wand will struggle as you struggle, its essence unable to fulfill its true potential until you come to your own and define yourself fully. When that time comes, please return to this shop with the wand, Young Miss. I will remake the wand then to be the most suitable version for you. Until then, I fear no other wand will be able to endure the conflict within you. This one alone will, as it recognizes you as its master, but be careful with it. The wand dislikes the way your magic currently is and will fight back violently should you seek to force it to act against its will." Lilith took the wand with her, even as her heart felt heavy. Lilith's wand had seen her through so much was now nothing more than a placeholder. What did that mean for her?

Shaking herself out of her thoughts from her first day at Diagon Alley, Lilith thought about Alexander's question. "As in the objects from the story about the Three Brothers?" Alexander nodded. "Indeed. What do you know about them?" Lilith thought back to the moments she spent reading the massive selections of books within Tom Riddle's Diary. The young man had been very proud of his near eidetic memory and his ability to accurately recreate them. They spent many nights sitting together in silence within his version of the Hogwarts Library, the two content to be in each other's presence. Those moments were now being repeated in the real world and Lilith found them to be all the more pleasant now. While Tom hadn't been particularly interested in children's stories for their moral value, he had read the book as a way to further his own understanding of magical society. Lillian herself had read it for the exact same reason. "A stone that created specters of the dead, a wand that was unmatched in its deadly power and a cloak that could conceal its owner even from death itself. That's all that I know about these so called artefacts. I think I heard Voldemort had been after the wand after his and Neville's kept failing to strike the other one down. Don't know if he found it or not. Why do you ask?" Alexander chuckled to himself as he approached the bag beside Lilith on the table, pulling out her Invisibility Cloak from within.

"Because you are carrying one of them with you." Lilith stared at the Cloak as a lot of pieces fell into place. "But… don't the Potter's still have it? Or did my journey back draw it away from them?" Alexander shrugged. "Hard to say for sure. The Cloak should be in Charlus Potter's possession, especially since word is that he is currently fighting in France, but I don't know Henry Potter enough to be certain that he didn't keep it hidden at the Estate. What I do know is that the Cloak is very picky as to who it's rightful owner is. In another's hand, it is nothing more than an Invisibility Cloak with an unnaturally long lifespan. In the hands of a Peverell or a descendant, it is a way to avoid all forms of detection and even injury. I am asking because it's possible we may need to get all the Hallows back. Especially if you are dead set on facing Grindelwald. On their own, they are certainly capable of abnormal feats of magic. Together… Well, there is a reason so many wizards and witches have gone insane trying to locate all three." Lilith thought about it but shrugged. "If you think so. Any idea what the other objects look like?" Alexander waved his hand and conjured a replica of the remaining two. "The stone will probably be the hardest to find. Cadmus' line ended quietly and its descendants never spoke of what became of the stone. Antioch's wand, however, should be easy enough to trace. It has a habit of leaving a trail of corpses in its wake. Last I heard, some wizard had been using it during the Napoleonic Wars. What is it?"

Lilith was snapped away from a memory as she looked back up at Alexander from the replica of the wand. "This wand was in Albus Dumbledore's possession in my time. It was the one that Voldemort stole to kill Neville with, though he ultimately resorted to a more… mundane weapon. I am absolutely certain that this is that wand." Alexander froze, before he rubbed his chin n thought. "This Dumbledore you're speaking about. There are whispers about him and his connections to Grindelwald. As the Ministries tried to stop the man's rise to power, his name did come up as a possible challenger, yet he never did go out to face Grindelwald in Paris, the one chance the Aurors had to capture him." Lilith frowned. "In my time, he eventually did face Grindelwald and became famous for it. In early 1945, he and Grindelwald fought in a massive duel just outside of Nurmengard Castle. He defeated him and the Castle eventually became Grindelwald's prison." Alexander sighed. "Then it's possible that he acquired the wand then or some time after." Lilith thought back to the news just before her final days at the Castle in 1998. "Grindelwald died just before the tomb where Dumbledore was buried was opened by Voldemort. What are the chances that it was a coincidence?" Alexander clicked his tongue. "Probably zero. Which means the wand is possibly in Grindelwald's possession and it's the reason as to why Dumbledore is keeping his distance." He looked at Lilith right in the eyes. "Retrieving the remaining Hallow is a priority now. We can't let it fall into anyone else's hands. For the sake of all."

Lilith stood outside the door of the Gaunt Shack under the cover of her Invisibility Cloak in the dead of night, the nearby church beginning to ring the bells signaling midnight as Britain welcomed Christmas, before bending down and placing a wicker box on the ground. Four black snakes tasted the air as they popped out after she lifted the lid, the creatures slithering their way underneath the door of the shack. The Gaunts may once have had wards on their property but the ring on Morfin's hand wasn't tied to any. Lilith was certain of that. What defences they once had were well and truly gone, which made infiltrating the house easy enough. Still, having just gone through another cycle of her magic tearing its way through her body just a few days prior, this one bad enough that Alexander had to carry her again to Gringotts to have the Goblins try and reduce the damage done to her body, Lilith was in no way ready to fight a wizard in a protracted battle, no matter how out of practice they were. With her own wand still unwilling to commit to her, with her magics each trying to dominate it separately, there was nothing she could do about fighting Morfin the old fashioned way. So she wouldn't try. Salazar's Portrait, made and enchanted by his second wife as a gift to the old Wizard, held the image of a very vindictive man, especially concerning the people who destroyed his impeccable legacy.

After spending years teaching Lilith all the tricks that a Parselmouth could use against other Magicals, he taught her how to use Parselmagic against other Parselmouths. This one spell was particularly nasty, as these conjured snakes were tied to Lilith's mind not too dissimilarly to how a Familiar was connected to a Magical. Lilith could see through their eyes, commanding them with but a thought. They also possessed some unique skills, as these snakes reached the sleeping form of Morfin Gaunt. After teasing him in order to get him to turn onto his back, the snakes struck out with their fangs. While she could conjure and create any type of snake, these had been created specifically with the ability to carry venom provided to them by the caster. In this case, they were filled with Essence of Mara, a potion Lilith had gone through a lot of trouble to recreate from her grandmother's notes. When Aquilla Black married into the von Schwarzwald family, she did her best to add to the von Schwarzwald's extensive potion book collection by creating a massive tome filled with her notes, which thankfully survived as a copy existed within her personal vault in Gringotts. Her grandmother was the first person to successfully replicate the Mara's ability to cause sleep paralysis in its victims, allowing the victim to be aware of their surroundings, but unable to move or fight back. Grandfather Nicholas had been very impressed by her talent, though the potion had been reserved for those recognized as enemies to the family. Lilith hoped that the deceased von Schwarzwald family would agree to her use of it here as she watched the effects take over Morfin's body.

She could have used any other potion to incapacitate him, but all of them left the victim unconscious. After doing some extensive research on Morfin Gaunt at the Ministry of Magic's records, she found herself unable to give him such mercy. The amount of reports of rapes and murders from the region of Little Hangleton and the adjacent communities in Dartmoor, followed by all the arrests and imprisinments of Morfin Gaunt, revealed a dangerous and bloodboiling patern. While the Ministry had bothered with arresting the bastard, since the victims were all muggles, his punishments were always slaps on the wrists and short periods of imprisonment. So many women, families, had their bodies violated, their peace of mind destroyed, after which the very government that should have been protecting them and punishing the criminal responsible did nothing except appear as if they were getting involved, but ultimately doing nothing. Lilith couldn't let this pass. Such a person was going to remain a permanent threat to the area, including the Riddle family and those close to them. To keep this monster from poisoning Tom's mind or forcing him to take matters into his own hands against a man that should have been a source of comfort and belonging, Lilith needed to intervene. And she needed to make sure that the bastard knew that his end was coming. With Aquilla's help, she could now guarantee that.

As soon as the time for the full effects of the potion to be active was passed, Lilith entered the Shack and took off the Invisibility Cloak, placing a notice-me-not and silencing charms on the door before turning her gaze to the paralized man. "Allow me to be perfectly frank, Mister Gaunt. I wasn't interested in your property. I mostly wanted to understand who you were as a person. Had you accepted my offer, we wouldn't be meeting like this." Taking the mostly clean and stable chair from the kitchen table. Lilith sat next to the paralized man, his eyes looking at her with murder in them. "But instead you proved to be everything I heard that was wrong with the Gaunts; arrogant, lazy and violent to all, including your own flesh and blood. Believe me when I say that I wanted our meeting to be over quickly. A few signed papers, a lot of galleons and that would have been it. But now I have a problem." Lilith leaned over to stare at him in the eyes. "You see, I know the boy born to your sister, Merope. Orphaned and looking for ties to his family. If he were to come here, I don't think you would give him the familial relationship he needs to be a good person, to be able to reach the zenith of his potential free of madness and hate. Hell, you might even try to kill him, as a Halfblood." The lack of remorse from Morfin's eyes told her the truth. He would try and kill him, to keep the Gaunt blood pure to the bitter end. Lilith sat down at the side of the bed, her eyes never leaving Morfin's.

"He deserves better than you, he deserves to be welcomed and made to belong by his kin. But more than that, the people of Little Hangleton and beyond need for you to pay for your sins. I personally believe that you should spend the rest of your natural life rotting away in Azkaban. But the Ministry wont do that to you and even there you might still manage to poison the mind of my friend, proving to him just how wicked your family has become. No, I think it's time for you to pay for your crimes, once and for all. The line of the House of Gaunt will end here, with you, stained by your sins." Lilith smiled at him as she switched to Parseltongue. "The rightful Heirs of Slytherin, however, will endure, free from your stench." Morfin's eyes widened before Lilith's hands wrapped around his throat. She began to squeeze hard as she did every Occlumency trick possible to control her feelings, burying them deep, her lips frozen stiff. Paralized, the man was only able to grunt under her attack. Eventually, as the seconds turned to minutes, he stopped making any noise all together, his chest going still. Lilith pulled her shaking hands back, seeing the blank and lifeless look in Morfin's eyes. Dispelling the snakes turned into bindings, Lilith scattered the clothes and wooden objects in the shack, making it look like someone had trashed it, as her heart started to beat wildly within her. She turned the wooden table over and pulled out the brush from the basket, dipping it in a liquid designed to be consumed in flames after hours ablaze.

Taking Morfin's wand, she cast a flame charm on the ward scheme she painted on the upside down table. The flames grew quickly, covering Morfin Gaunt's body after she had doused it in kerosene from a lamp, having already taken the ring off his finger and replaced it with a replica. If the Ministry came, they would find nothing missing or wrong. The body would be nothing but charred bones as the ward scheme would keep the fire burning long enough for the flesh to be destroyed entirely. All traces of her being in the room would be non-existent. Lilith took one last look at the surroundings as the flames engulfed the wooden walls and began to race up the roof. Within her heart, two feelings mixed together. On the one hand she was feeling the effects of seeing the flames so close to her once more, no more than seven months since the von Schwarzwald Estate was consumed in flames, terror threatening to devour her mind as echoes of that night demanded to be heard. The other feeling was one that she was utterly unfamiliar with, at least until she apparated away and looked at herself in the mirror within her own bathroom. Morfin Gaunt's end would be no different than his father's; two lives being snuffed out and unmourned by those of Little Hangleton. Morfin's spree of terror and suffering brought to an end with one more murder. A murder commited by a girl who had never taken a life before. She knew beyond a doubt it wouldn't be the last life she would take, as bile rose up her throat. The thought of killing again wasn't in any way pleasant or welcomed.

Alexander knew something was wrong as soon as he entered the Wing of the Peverell Manor that he had set aside for Lilith to inhabit. Walking into the main living room, he frowned as he felt the magic in the air, wild and violent as the two currents seemed to struggle, though thankfully not as violently as they had on the Winter Solstice. The moment the sun rose in the morning after the 21st, as the Dark gave way to Light, the magic of the world itself seemed to reverse itself. For Alexander, the event was no different than it was for him every winter of his long life. The magic within all beings, despite how unattuned they may be to the currents of the world, are tied to the environment around them, to the air, the land and the sea, but most importantly to the lines of magic that crisscross the globe. Everything had magic, one way or another. It is the reason even a muggle knows when spirits of the departed are about, why certain plots of land carry echoes of horrifying events and why even in the darkest of forests, the non-magical populace know when some unfathomable creature looks upon them as prey. Despite the vile comments of the Blood and Magical Supremacists, Magic cares not if you are capable of wielding it or not. It affects all in unique ways that make even him question whether the world has a will guiding it to some greater purpose.

Through the currents of the magics around him, Alexander followed the trail of the two unique signatures that were of his ward's, following their crackling and violent state into the bedroom, before entering the bathroom. He had watched but a few days earlier as the girl fought the pain to no avail, even as the Goblin Healers he hired did their best to contain her anguish. He hated seeing her in pain, and even the Goblins, known for their appreciation and reverence of pain endured in some great enterprise, looked stricken with grief at the sight of her skin splitting open from the magic running through her veins. Gripping the sink with enough strength to crack some of the wood and stone, stood Lilith, her body shaking as if fighting another attack, wearing only her long sleeved shirt and pants, both of which were soaked as the shower was left running, the air filled with steam and the scent of vomit. It took her a second to notice his presence as his eyes caught hers in the mirror's mostly foggy reflection. He rushed forward to grab a hold of her as he flicked his wrist, closing the tap of the shower. Even soaked in a room that felt like a sauna, Lilith's body felt unnaturally cold as he pulled her back and down onto the ground. Forgetting about any concern for modesty, Alexander vanished her clothes and summoned a towel to dry her off. That was when her fists started striking his chest. "Stop… please… stop being… kind to me!" Alexander shook his head as he tried to dry her face, tears stubbornly refusing to stop their constant streams from her eyes. "Not bloody likely."

Lilith shivered under his care, her hands digging into his chest. Alexander knew he would need to cast some healing spells later. Her voice came out stuttering and soft, shame filling her next words. "I killed someone tonight. I am a killer, Alexander. At 18 and 14, I am a bloody killer! It wasn't some grand battle where I risked my life. I pinned him down through magic and choked him to death. I… killed him…" Alexander sighed, even as he hugged her tighter against his chest. "You could have done it differently." The fingers dug deeper into his chest. "I didn't want it to be easy! I wanted… needed, to feel the life leave his body. To know… Why is it so easy to take a life? He was a killer too. I saw it in his eyes. A rapist and a murder, he enjoyed every moment of it as he inflicted his violence on innocent and powerless women. Like Voldemort, he enjoyed the feeling of being in control of a life and abusing them until he was satisfied. Why? Why is it so easy for them to do that? And why…? Was it so easy for me to take his?" Alexander reached up and pulled the wet hair away from Lilith's face. "I don't know. But that doesn't matter. You are here and a monster is off the streets. But the next time you go hunting for these sorts of people, take me with you." Lilith's grip on his chest softened. "It wasn't your burden to bear. I needed… I needed to be sure that I could do this. That I could be strong enough to do what was necessary. And I… Tom couldn't see what his blood family was like. He wants nothing more than to belong and that monster… would have denied that to him and affirmed his worst instincts. I couldn't let it happen! Not again…"

Picking her up in his arms, much to her displeasure, Alexander dropped Lilith gently on the bed and pulled out some robes for her before sitting by her side. "Regardless, you aren't alone. You don't have to suffer alone anymore through this, Lilith. As for getting blood on my hands… believe me, there is plenty of blood already there. A little more wouldn't make much of a difference." Lilith's magics seemed to settle and Alexander could see her closing down. For a second he thought she was using Occlumency but the look in her eyes was of pure exhaustion. He wasn't surprised, with the amount of emotional upheaval she must have gone through. As he tried to get her to wear her robes for bed, he felt her hand press something cold and magical into his cheek. He stopped for a second at the familiar sight of the Resurrection Stone. "You said we had to recover it. I wasn't sure he had it but he did. Morfin Gaunt will take the secret of it to his grave. I left a worthless copy on the property. The flames should have melted the metal and the stone should have cracked." Alexander sighed, happy that the Stone was recovered but sad at what it had cost his ward. "You should keep it." She seemed to hesitate a second. "I am keeping it in the lockbox here. If I could, I would forget the combination for it." Alexander chuckled as he sat by Lilith, her eyes closing in exhaustion. Sleep finally claimed her, though he doubted her dreams would be kind. He gently rubbed her hair, praying to the gods of old that she should find some rest. "You are the best of us, Lilith. Tonight, you have proven that, in more ways than one. Don't ever doubt that."

Alexander would return to his own room, feeling emotionally drained. It had been too long since he had to care for another member of his family. Far too long. Yet he couldn't not care for Lilith. No matter how tenuous their connection was, her soul was that of a Peverell. Of all the ones he knew of, she was the kindest but the most driven. The price she paid to undo time was dear, the burden of the von Schwarzwald family was heavy and she still refused to let herself be coddled. The girl's stubbornness brought a smile to his face, reminding him of his wife. She would have been a worthy Heir to the Peverell name. The Cloak had seen it and the Stone, shining a soft green in her palm, agreed as well. That left the wand. He looked at the latest photograph of Gellert Grindelwald and the wand that he waved in his hand as he tore through the Parisian Magical Districts, the picture propagated to get the French Magicals to capitulate. Whether it worked or not was left for them to decide. What mattered to Alexander was the wand in his hand. The Elder Wand. He thought about the history that Lilith had told him, a history that was both devastating as it was awe inspiring. Intervening too soon could give too much of an advantage to the Soviets, leaving all of Europe exposed to their anti-magical agenda, or to Grindelwald and his puppets, who wouldn't hesitate to slaughter muggles by the millions, as evidence was beginning to mount of their atrocities. They needed to bide their time. And when the time came, they all had to be ready. The Peverell family would recover its lost legacy, whatever the cost might be, for the sake of the whole world. They could not fail.

Tom stirred awake, feeling as if he just saw a dream that left him cold, yet no memories cling to his mind. Checking that he was fine, he sat at the edge of his bed and rubbed his eyes, a yawn escaping his lips. After completing his usual morning routine in the bathroom, he returned to his room, his eyes darting to the end of his bed, expecting to see nothing, as always. He had his arm down one of the sleeves of his white shirt before his brain registered what his eyes spotted. There, at the foot of the bed, sat several present boxes, all in forest green wrapping paper with white bows on them. After buttoning up his shirt and putting on his pants, Tom went to check on the boxes, casting detection spells on them. His magic only revealed an envelope that had been concealed atop the pile, but no traces of anything dangerous. Taking the envelope in his hands, he looked at the lovely penmanship on the back, recognizing it. How could he not, when he spent every Potions class by her side, watching as Lilith wrote down notes concerning every step of the procedure. The girl was nothing if not meticulous. His curiosity peaked, Tom opened the envelope and retrieved the letter.

To Herr Tom Riddle

My apologies for not being able to spend the Yuletide in your company. The financial and legal matters of my family were left in quite the disarray with their deaths and despite my best efforts, all was not settled by the beginning of the Hogwarts term. This has, at least, provided me with the means to acquire some items that I hope can make the rest of your time at school as comforting as your presence has been to me in these few short months. I hope these presents find you well and that we can continue to offer aid to each other in the coming months. Until then, Happy Holidays, Herr Riddle.

Frau Lilith von Schwarzwald

Unaware of the pleased smile on his face, Tom folded the letter back and placed it within the envelope, before carefully placing it on his dresser. Taking the presents and placing them in his bed, he began to unwrap them, being surprised by each one. The first was a bag that from the outside looked identical to his, minus some of the scuff marks that it acquired from the years of use under both Tom's care and its previous owners. A parchment atop the bag identified the enchantments attached to it, including expanded pockets and featherweight charms that kept the bag from ever being too heavy to the owner, so long as they didn't get past a certain weight or volume limit. There were even security pockets that could be tailored to only open to his magic by a few drops of blood. Another bag had also been provided, though this one was intended to be used during purchases in the Alley or elsewhere, meaning he could spend a full day out and about and not have to worry about returning to his room in the inn to store his purchases within his trunk. Tom remembered his earlier jealousy at the same bags Lilith was using and wondered if she had caught sight of some trace of his feelings before he could control them on his face. The last two gifts, however, floored him.

Lilith had confided in him that she had patented her modified record player with the aid of her patron, whom she refused to name, and the goblins at Gringotts. As the war was keeping certain materials from being available for any attempts at mass production, selling her creation was out of the question, but she could still make a few models to test designs and alterations with her older supplies. Seeing that she had given him one of these custom models, enchanted to be invulnerable to most damage, as well as wear and tear, Tom ran his hand over the dark oak wood of the traveling case that housed it, the Slytherin House Coat of Arms lovingly painted on one of the corners, the other left empty for the day he discovered his legacy. Within the other box were sets of discs, all labeled. There was the expected collection of classical music renditions of the works of Chopin, Mozart and Beethoven, but also a few more modern artists of a variety of styles, including a disc with Christmas and Yule music. He found a small note within the record player, with a ward design that created a bubble from which sound didn't escape. For those times when company is poor and silence unbearable.

After placing the record player on the bedside table, inscribing and powering the ward scheme on a piece of parchment and placing the Chopin disc on the turntable, he activated the runes that started the music. Tom sat quietly on his bed, feeling the oddest sensation wash over him as the music began to play, the piano and touches of violin causing him to sway softly. He checked the record player again but found nothing that could explain the way he was feeling at the moment that the music filled his ears. It was as if a weight that had been settled onto his very being had suddenly lifted, leaving him feeling lighter than what he could ever remember feeling, though he could still feel the burden, though only barely. The anger and resentment he had felt over the times that Dumbledore caught him in the Hogwarts corridors at night the last few days had been buried beneath a feeling of … content. Tom closed his eyes, took a deep breath and exhaled, before he dressed himself warmly, turned off the music and stepped out into the Castle's corridors, eventually reaching the Courtyard. Though the ground was covered in a thick layer of snow, the storm from last night had been reduced to nothing more than a flurry. The sky slowly brightened, though the sun was unlikely to rise until much later, if the roving clouds permitted it. Yet the sight didn't feel cold to him at all that day. Tom would have his breakfast and walk along the castle's corridors, content in the peace of his home and in the music that for now seemed to reside within his chest.

Chapter 8: New Year Revelations

"So, Alphard. What can you tell us about Lilith von Schwarzwald? Is she Aquilla's granddaughter and a Black?" Alphard took his time to answer Lord Black's request, as he sat beside Cassiopeia, the latter giving him an appraising look. In order to protect House Black, it was normal for the Lords and Heirs to have Shadows, family members who dedicate themselves to the prosperity of the House and Heirs over all other concerns. Cassiopeia was chosen as Arcturus' due to the fact that she was barren, though like Alphard she also had a less than standard taste in who she found appealing. As she wasn't capable of being a mother or interested in being married off to another family, she was given the task of becoming the Shadow, the eyes and ears of the House beyond what the Lord could achieve through political means. And while Alphard hated that Sirius was looking at him with the same degree of disinterest he showed his aunt, it did give both of them a measure of freedom that he was sure Orion would never get to have while the old man was the Head of House. There was a reason Lucretia was so protective of her little brother, and that Arcturus was anxious for the day Sirius passed on. Lilith's words of warning were accurate to a fault, as much as he wished that they weren't, and it was getting clearer by the day as he listened to some of Sirius' plans for securing a stronger position within the Wizengamot.

"She is. I had a chance to speak with her in private a few times, as I informed Aunt Cassie. She's aware of the family connection and had considered approaching us after her own family was killed, but decided against it." Sirius grunted. "And why is that?" Alphard sighed and looked at his great uncle. "Age isn't a factor when it comes to the von Schwarzwald family. She isn't an heiress, she's the Lady of the House and its Head. While she remains a refugee, she retains the rights of her status and control over her own properties, finances and actions. Should she emigrate or seek refuge with us, she would be just another Black. I don't think she views the loss of her family' privileges as acceptable." Cassiopeia chuckled as she looked at the Lord of the House, her brown curly locks clipped back. "Sounds like Aquilla and her husband taught her granddaughter well." Sirius grunted as he tapped his fingers on the meeting table at the Black Townhouse, as it was customary for the Blacks who still carried the name to gather on New Years' Eve in London, where the Lord would discuss the politics of the family for the coming year, before the next Wizengamot Session. Though the Lord was favoring keeping two meetings separate, one for the broader family and the other for the heirs and shadows. This had made the other members refrain from showing up as often as they once did, which left the Townhouse relatively empty at a time when it should be anything but. "Is she an ally or a liability?" Alphard smiled a little; he had debated this in his mind over the last few weeks as he watched over her. "An ally, though an independent one. She will render assistance to our House when possible, but not at the expense of her own objectives."

Sirius leaned back. "I find that hard to believe. She has been seen associating herself with Halfbloods, Muggleborns and Heirs of other families. She clearly lacks a sense of the political value she has and what these associations are costing her." Arcturus cleared his throat, drawing the attention of both Alphard and Sirius. "What children is she associating with, Alphard?" Alphard went over the list in his head. "Orion and his group of friends go to her every so often for help with their assignments, as do a vast majority of the younger Slytherins. Her handling of Valerio Rosier…" Cassiopeia hummed merrily to herself, having enjoyed the memory of the first incident as viewed in a Pensieve earlier today, which gave Alphard a moment to think over his next words. "... has earned her the respect of many of the heiresses. As for the people you are alluding to, she has what I believe to be a strong connection to Cassandra Moon. The two partner up in Care and are often seen sitting together at the Ravenclaw table. This has, of course, gained her contacts within Ravenclaw. While one of them is a muggleborn, I don't see it as a liability and neither does she. It also does give her the benefit of the doubt among the family's with strong Muggleborn ties, which have grown distant from our own family members of late within Hogwarts. If she gains the position of Prefect next year, she will be a lot more approachable than Walburga has been."

Arcturus turned to his father. "The family and the girl have both kept silent on our connections, meaning that anything she does can be dismissed by us easily enough. Even if the relation is made public, her associations can be explained as a wayward family member unaware of our customs. I don't see her willingness to associate with children from families we have no formal or antagonistic relationships with as a problem." Sirius rubbed his balding head of white hair, before looking at Alphard. "And of her physical state? My allies tell me that she hardly does any magic at school." Alphard cursed in his head. It was the one thing he wanted to avoid discussing. He felt Cassiopeia tensing beside him, her thoughts probably latching on to the same source of concern as his. "It hasn't come up in conversation with her, but I have noticed that she didn't spend a few nights in the Dorms. She has often been spotted near the Hospital Wing, which could mean she was injured during the attack on her family and is receiving treatment. This injury could be hindering her magical abilities, though only partly. She can create and control wards better than any fourth year, can still create potions of the highest caliber and knows her way through Runes, Arithmancy and especially Defence. I have also noticed her reading several books that are indecipherable for anyone reading over her shoulder, meaning she could be researching how to improve her condition quietly or is focused on fulfilling her obligations as a Head of House, regardless of her condition."

Sirius rubbed his chin as his younger Shadow and Heir waited. He sighed. "Very well, we will leave her be for now. Continue to monitor her and her interaction. If she becomes a threat or a liability to the family, don't hesitate to let me know. The censure is likely to pass in the upcoming Wizengamot session, with Lord Rosier losing some control over the Dark Faction. I will push forward with some offers to draw in his supporters to our influence as much as possible, in the hopes of securing the position of Speaker for ourselves." Sirius stood up and the rest did as well, before he took his cane and walked out the door. Using another exit, Cassiopeia led Alphard out before her, both following after Arcturus. The group left the Townhouse for a second, taking a walk down the street as the snow reflected the orange light under the streetlights that pushed back against the dark of the approaching midnight. As soon as Cassiopeia activated her privacy wards, Arcturus turned his head to Alphard as they kept walking. "You did well tonight. You have good eyes and ears and a steady view on what matters to the family. Orion will be lucky to have you." Alphard smiled. "Thank you, Uncle. I must say that Lilith has made it more difficult for me than it had been during the previous year, but it certainly has proven to be more enlightening than problematic." Cassiopeia patted his back softly. "That's a good attitude to have. Don't let it slip. Now, what was it that you didn't want Sirius to know about?" Alphard kept his head down. "Lilith. She knows I am training to be a Shadow, somehow. She was also aware of what happened with Marius and the rest. It's why she stayed away. She… thinks the House of Black is failing its family members."

Cassiopeia tensed up beside him. "Interesting. It seems that she is a lot more than just a wayward member of the family." Arcturus nodded. "Agreed. Anything else?" Alphard hesitated for a second. "She has an odd relationship with Tom Riddle, the Halfblood in my year at Slytherin I mentioned in my earlier letters. She seems to be… bonding with him. I am not sure what either of their intentions are, but Lilith will protect Riddle from Rosier and possibly from our Lord Black. Riddle's intentions or reactions, however, are difficult to interpret." Arcturus looked towards Cassiopeia, who shrugged. "My research into him hasn't turned up much. Just an orphan from London. No other records, though his Middle name of Marvolo does line up with several Magical families." Arcturus rubbed his chin. "What about Cassandra Moon? What do you have on her?" Cassiopeia smiled. "Her I know a little more about. She isn't the heir of the Moon family, but the Dowager Moon favors her greatly. What kids spend time with her call her odd, speaking nonsense half the time." Alphard chimed in. "I have heard her and Lilith talking, though I noticed that Lilith can replicate the spell we use to cancel sound at times when they are together. Oddly, Lilith seems to understand her well enough." Cassiopeia stopped, causing the other two to do the same. "What is it, Cassie?" The older woman looked up at the stars for one second, remembering a whisper she had heard concerning the Moon family. "The young Cassandra might have been named accordingly, if she inherited a certain talent, one that Aquilla's grandchild might understand better than we do."

Arcturus ran through what talents the Moons were said to have. "Are you talking about them being Seers?" Cassiopeia shrugged as she lowered her gaze, her eyes turning to Alphard. "Perhaps. If she is one and Lilith can read between the lines of their cryptic nature, it would explain their connection, and Lilith's heightened awareness regarding the current political climate. Whatever the case, having a more agreeable relationship with Aquilla's granddaughter would seem to be to our advantage… especially if her concerns over the future of our House are based on reading and understanding a Seer's intuition." Alphard looked between the two. "Then you two agree that Sirius is harming the House?" Arcturus sighed, rubbing his dark hair, the long curly locks tied at his neck with a black ribbon. "Father's actions of late are not what the Family would have liked. Cygnus Senior and my name sake are both dealing with the former's ailing health and can't worry about greater family concerns, so they don't question him as brothers to the Lord should in order to keep his intentions towards the family pure." Alphard lowered his head. "Toujour Pur. Lilith quoted the motto. She warned us not to stray away from its true meaning." Cassiopeia rubbed her chin. "Which might mean some of the house might try to reframe it to mean something else. And only a Head of House could allow that to happen." Arcturus looked up at the sky before turning to Alphard. "You keep our children safe at Hogwarts as best as you can, Alphard. Cassiopeia and I will try to keep this warning from becoming true. Enlist Lilith's aid if you have to." Alphard nodded. "Of course, Uncle."

Lilith stared at the roof of her room in Peverell Manor, bags under her eyes being a clear sign of the difficulty she has had sleeping the last few nights. Ever since the night of the twenty fourth, her dreams had been filled with nightmarish visitations from the dead man. The very first night she felt as if Morfin was in the process of raping her, before she plunged her hand into his chest, the blood from the open wound spilling out and covering her completely. The next few days, no matter how much time she spent bathing, the feeling of blood refused to leave her hands, no matter how clean they were. Alexander tried his best to comfort her but Lilith just couldn't embrace the fact that she killed a man and that she was happy for it. When she was Lillian, she spent enough of her time fighting the older kids at the Orphanage, getting close to killing a few who tried to do the same to her. She remembered knocking out one annoying prick out with a fireplace poker. The temptation to jam it into the boy's back or head had been there but Lillian had simply kicked him in the family jewels and walked away. At Hogwarts, there had been a few more tempting moments, especially when she ended up with a polyjuiced Ronald Weasley under her thumb, as well as when Draco went too far in trying to bring her under his control. It would have been so easy to let either of them die via snake venom, or other means. But no, Lillian had refused to stain her hands with blood then, though just barely, the last time being pulled back from the edge by Luna's pleas.

Except she now understood that she had indeed stained her hands with blood as Lillian. Just once. The very moment she triggered the spell that sent her back in time, when she pierced Lord Voldemort's heart, taking his life and wiping out so many more from existence. Lilith lifted up her hand and stared at the star shaped scar on the back, closed and healed, but a mark all the same. A mark that at one time bound her to a man who had commited one hell of a taboo to split his soul, before she committed her own taboo by tearing back the history that had once been. Lilith lowered her hand against her chest, the weight of her actions sinking in as they often did. For all intents and purposes she had killed billions of people, erasing over fifty years of history and was now in the process of altering it all permanently. The sight of so many wands becoming magically dead by her touch at Ollivander's still haunted her. All those lives changed forever, and all because of her selfish and impulsive choice. How was she any different than Morfin, Grindelwald, Dumbledore or even Voldemort? If Lilith was honest with herself, she would call the last few days well deserved. Yes, the man she killed was a monster, but what did that make her now as his killer? Was she becoming one too, just as Tom became one soon after meeting his biological relatives when he became Voldemort? Lilith sighed and prayed that it wasn't the case. That she could be as Alexander said she was; a killer but one who understood the weight of the act of taking a life and would be able to keep control over herself, rather than losing herself as so many others have done.

Recognizing she wasn't going to get any more sleep and seeing that the clock was already well past eight in the morning, she sat up from the bed and started to get dressed. As she reached the kitchen of the Manor on the first floor, she paused, smelling the air. Turning the corner, she stared at the table filled with quite the assortment of breakfast items. "What the…" A familiar voice spoke up. "Oh good, A few more minutes and I would have been right up to fetch you." Lilith watched as Alexander placed a molded tray full of what looked to be muffins on the table, the scents of a variety of fruits making Lilith's stomach growl. She blushed as she covered her stomach with her hand before looking at the very proud man. "What's all this?" Alexander smiled. "Breakfast, of course. For the birthday girl." Lilith blinked a few times before it dawned on her. "Oh, right. It's the first." Alexander started serving her a plate full of scrambled eggs and sausages. "While your soul might have been born at a different time of year, this is the birthday you have with your body. It's only fair that you celebrate it." Lilith sighed as she sat down. "Right. 15 and 18 years of age, both being true at the same time."

Alexander gave her a sympathetic look as he placed the plate in front of her. "I know it's hard to feel any attachment to the day, but it is a part of who you are, same as the name you were tied to. Only choice you have left is to embrace it." Lilith nodded absentmindedly as she took a bite from one of the muffins, before groaning. "How are you such a bloody good cook? And how did you get all this with the rationing going on?" Alexander chuckled. "Practice, Lilith. Lots and lots of practice. As for the rationing, well, this isn't a spontaneous party. Been saving up for it for months. Speaking of practice, how is your magic?" Lilith shrugged, as she started serving the rest of the food on the table onto her plate, taking a few extra servings of what she found out was apple pie. "No better than how it was in June. Still easier to channel it into wards, enchantments and my fingers than to get it to fill up a bloody wand." Alexander sighed before looking Lilith over. "Any issues with the memories?" Lilith nodded. "Sometimes they overlap, sometimes they just… overwhelm me without my being able to restrain them. I am trying to go through them but it's so hard. The more I do that, the more I feel like one life was but a dream. I hate the fact that I feel like I am losing a part of who I am." Alexander passed her a cup of hot chocolate, the smell visibly relaxing Lilith. "Just take your time. There is no rush in going through the memories, especially if they trigger an episode on their own."

Lilith nodded, her mind taking a moment to enjoy the taste of the pancakes before speaking up. "So, what's the plan for the next few days before I head back to Hogwarts?" Alexander hummed as he drank from his cup of coffee. "There is the Wizengamot meeting later today. Lothbrok also sent a letter. He's curious if you have any more future knowledge he can use for investments. Those steel and munitions plants he bought through the Goblin Bank Branches in America have been raking in quite the profits." Lilith shuddered. "Leave it to a Goblin to enjoy war profiteering." Alexander chuckled. "True, but he did give you quite the cut, which was very kind of him. It's doing a good job of restoring your family's finances, after Grindelwald stole what didn't burn from the wreckage. It's a good thing Lord von Schwarzwald kept some liquid assets and important documents at the Swiss Dwarven Bank, or you would need to be getting some loans from the Banks. Which reminds me." Alexander handed Lilith a present. "I managed to convince the Swiss Dwarven Bank to copy some of the stored texts and send them over, using your seal of course. Usually they would have insisted that you retrieve them in person, but the war and some transfers between Gringotts and their accounts of Peverell funds was able to earn us enough good will. You have quite the selection to go over, but I believe this one is the one you need the most." Lilith made some room on the table for the present and tore it open.

Her heart stopped beating for all of a minute as she stared at the black leather bound text before her, the von Schwarzwald family's crest carved into it. Lilith's fingers traced the engraving, the howling snouth of a wolf surrounded by the trees of the Black Forest, roots stretching away from the base and wrapping around the wolf, reaching even to the moon lit sky. Lilith's voice came out soft, barely above a whisper. "The von Schwarzwald Grimoire." Alexander nodded. "It should still have all the last changes from your father's time as Lord. There are more texts in the Vault than expected and they warn that other family vaults might still exist elsewhere." Lilith opened the book, feeling the magic search hers, connecting with the part of her that was a von Schwarzwald. The indecipherable mess of the old Noric Language, the original language of her family when it held dominion over the Forest long before the Romans arrived and introduced Latin, reconfigured itself to be legible. The family maintained the use of Noric as their primary magical scrypt, as no other race but the Dwarves and the Dark Creatures of the region could understand it. Tears filled Lilith's eyes she turned and looked at Alexander, giving him a genuine smile. "Danke." The two spent the rest of the morning together, Alexander regaling her with his own adventures on the continent, with Lilith feeling far lighter than she had been but a few days prior.

Alexander sat in the Visitor's Gallery of the Wizengamot as the Family Heads, Proxies and Regents started to take their seats, his mind back on the young woman under his care. Lilith's mood had been much better after his surprise birthday party, though he noticed a sudden shift during the meal. When he asked her what was wrong, she said that it was odd. She was happy about his gesture but the memories of the birthdays she had as both a von Schwarzwald and a Potter had smothered the moment with melancholy. Her Godfather as Lillian, Sirius Black, had only managed to celebrate her birthday two years in a row before his untimely death, but he had made both times exceedingly memorable in his kind, extravagant and ultimately unhinged way of showing affection to her. Alexander spared a glance to look at the current Sirius Black, his face stuck in an apparent perpetual grimace as he chatted with Lord Crabbe, one of the many allegiances he had cemented through the marriages of the Blacks. The Lord Black of this day and age seemed to be exactly as Lilith expected; political, heartless and in violation of the Toujour Pur motto that defended the family for millenia. Watching and reading about his behaviour from his contacts really lit a fire in Alexander's veins, a feeling he hadn't felt in quite a while.

Rubbing his Head of House ring, Alexander did his best to calm down. Life had been so easy in the past. No family to worry about, no reason for him to get involved if some other Lord behaved in a manner that was unacceptable by his standards. But with Lilith entering his life in such an abrupt and unexpected manner… it had taken Alexander by surprise just how quickly he could feel for her. Then again, it made all the sense in the world. The girl was very much like his wife had been when they knew each other in their youths. Alexander closed his eyes and took a deep breath, burying the feelings that welled up inside of him. The absence of his beloved Annan was one of the more dreadful parts about being on his own. If he didn't just cover himself in indifference, he would probably have taken his own life by now. Which did make him think about the future in which Lillian was born into. In that world, he was nowhere to be found, not when his distant relations and Britain needed him most. Did he crack one day as he feared and ended his lonely existence or did someone else do it for him? He didn't know and the doubt burned inside of him every time he looked at Lilith. Lillian had needed him in her life and he had failed her by not being there.

The ring on his finger warmed up as magic rushed through his veins. The girl might be stubborn and independent, which he couldn't blame her for after being raised in an orphanage, being called a Pariah in the school for her family name and the color of tie that she wore and then losing the only adults who gave a damn about her wellbeing, but that didn't mean he could let the matter go. He wanted to be there for Lilith now that he had the chance to care for one of his own again. Alexander had no issue with letting her carry out her own duties, she was living in the body of a teenage Head of House, after all, but he would be damned if he didn't at least make it clear that she wasn't alone anymore. His thoughts cleared up as soon as he spotted another relation of his standing up to address the Assembly, this one closer to him through blood. Henry Potter had certainly lived a long and recognized life. He had served as the British Delegate to the ICW for decades now, being a voice of reason and compassion as the ICW tried to ease the growing tensions in the Magical World as the European countries continued to extend their influence across the globe in the final great age of Imperialism. The Representatives from the African, Asian and South American continents were understandably furious with the chaos and suffering brought about by the Non-Magical World and convincing them to not break the Statute in defence of their people was… not easy. Alexander was certain he himself would have broken the Statute a thousand times if he was in their places.

"Ladies and Lords, Members of the Wizengamot. In the last six months, while we have debated, stalled and outright ignored our responsibilities as members of the European Continent, the War Criminal Grindelwald continues to spread his conflict across the farthest reaches of the world. This last month alone has seen the unrestrained expansion of the Japanese Empire across the Pacific, with America struggling to keep up as the entry of these two nations into open war has drawn the world into another global conflict. The ICW has already declared the actions of the Axis Nations, under the influence of Grindelwald, to be a threat to the Statute of Secrecy and a violation of the international laws that all member states agreed to. So I ask you all, why? Why do we continue to sit here and do nothing as brave men and women venture into the gates of Hell itself to face this growing threat to our world as we sit here, refusing to stand up against the atrocities the allies of Grindelwald have commited, let alone even condemning them as such? To wait any further, to show compliance in the face of an enemy to all the Families, whether young, Old or Ancient of our Great Britain is a disgrace to all of our houses, a shame that will taint us all in the eyes of our children and their children. I implore this session, at the dawn of the year 1942, to censure Grindelwald for his crimes and prepare to send our forces to war against him, in the defence of our future."

The chamber burst into loud applause as Lord Potter sat back down, looking drained and exhausted. The older gentleman had chosen to return to his position within the Wizengamot out of duty after the ICW Assembly relocated itself to North America, the house being under-represented currently as both of his sons aided the war effort, one in the fields of battle, fighting the Hexenmeisters directly, and the other within the Potions Lab of his family's home, keeping the Healers stocked with potions to care for the wounded. That Henry's skills as a Speaker were undulled after decades of service spoke well of his mind and inner strength, though it clearly was taking its toll. Alexander clapped his hands along with the rest of the Visitor's Gallery, even as he seethed internally. Lillian had been born as the man's greatgranchild, yet she just barely knew him at all. Perhaps… it would be possible to bring in the Potter's slowly into the fold, for Lilith's sake at the very least. She may be a von Schwarzwald now but she deserved the chance to see the Potter name as it was meant to be, rather than the hollowed shell she was born into. As the Chamber settled down under the repeated calls for Order under Gwynevere Fawley, the Chief Witch, Alexander spotted a familiar figure standing and requesting to speak. The Minister for Magic, Leonard Spencer-Moon spoke up first, before the Chief Witch could grant Lord Rosier the chance. The Chief Witch and the Minister had been butting heads ever since Leonard replaced her cousin for the position, ending the family's dominion in politics.

"Chief Witch, Members of the Wizengamot, while I am sure a few of you would like to listen to Lord Rosier again try to educate us on the supposed "upstanding actions'' of Gellert Grindelwald, I have in my possession documentation that needs to be brought before the Assembly." Alexander smirked softly as the Chamber went into quiet murmurs, as the clerks passed out the stacks of papers and photographs that had been acquired from the continent. Men, soldiers or otherwise, filling up trenches dug into the earth by their own hands, women and children hugging each other as soldiers aimed firearms at their backs, the armed men preparing to fire. While Lilith wasn't certain when the Nazis started their more barbaric extermination efforts that her future termed as the Holocaust, Alexander's contacts within the continent had been able to ascertain that the extermination had already begun in ernest, intensifing after the entrance of America into the war. The gasps of surprise and horrified expressions on the faces of the Members of the Wizengamot was clear enough to see, even from the Visitor Gallery. Minister Spencer-Moon spoke into the silence. "This is the "upstanding" nature of Grindelwald's forces and allies. Hundreds of thousands of muggles, if not yet millions, have died, rundown like dogs and shot in the back by the soldiers of this "so-called" Third Reich. In this chaos, Grindelwald has ordered his own Hexenmeisters to pillage the homes of several of the Old and Ancient Families, slaughtering them in the process. These are not the actions of a benevolent leader seeking to reform the ICW. These are the actions of a butcher and a thief!"

Lord Rosier stood up. "This is slander, Minister. Lies of those who refuse to see the need for reform in the ICW and how it forces us to cower before the muggles!" Leonard turned to Rosier. "These are facts confirmed by the Peacekeepers, Resistance forces, Dwarves, Goblins and even refugees, who had no choice but to reveal the truth, before they themselves become targets for extermination. This is what awaits us all if we do nothing to combat this threat! The Censure must pass and the Ministry must begin to prepare our Aurors for war!" The Director for the DMLE, Caspar Crouch, stood up. "The DMLE agrees with the Minister. Gellert Grindelwald is a War Criminal. He must be challenged and must face justice for his crimes against Europe, Magical or not." Alexander could see Rosier trying to summon up support from his allies in the Travers and Goyle families, but they were shouted down. Even the Chief Witch, who was known to drag her feet and give the Dark preferential treatment, was unable to quell the indignation. Alexander leaned back as the Censure was put to a vote, Gwynevere Fawley having enough political clout to see how the tide was turned against Rosier's power to push the motion through. He eyed the Lord Black, who was speaking with the Lords Malfoy and Nott quietly, with interest. Rosier's position as head of the Dark had just been challenged. It would only be a matter of time when he lost it to someone. Whether the replacement was a better option was still up for debate.

Alexander left the session as soon as Fawley called it to a close, the woman staring at the Minister of Magic. In the decades before, the Fawleys had obtained a great deal of power holding both the posts of Minister and Chief Witch, maintaining the status quo as Britain grew wealthy from the sweat, blood and tears of its overseas Empire. Whether the woman would hold onto her title for long was now up to her. The documents his contacts in the continent provided would draw the British Ministry of Magic into the war faster than what Lillian remembered, something he felt was necessary in order to keep the Hexenmeisters from gaining any more ground. It also meant that more British Wizards and Witches were about to die. Alexander sighed as he made his way to the entrance of the Ministry. It couldn't be helped. Acting or not, people would die regardless of this war. At least now they could hopefully slow Grindelwald down and push Britain into a better standing with the ICW, helping to shore up the International governing body which was currently meeting in MACUSA, the only place they felt safe enough to set up their headquarters in exile. Now, all they had to worry about was the fallout. Alexander committed the entire session to memory as he arrived at the Peverell Estate. Lilith had to know what happened, if only to keep the children of Rosier's enemies safe. Ideological disagreements and power struggles between and within political factions rarely stayed within the bounds of politics, or common decency.

As Lilith stared out the window of the Hogwarts Express, the roving countryside covered in a blanket of snow that stretched out as far as the eyes could see, her thoughts were on the most recent events in the Wizengamot and how they could potentially play out with the actions of the Heirs at the school. That Valerio Rosier would lash out was entirely expected, the question was simply who he would target. Going after her was within the realm of possibility, she had been challenging his position as King since the start of term. But any actions against her lacked any political capital. He was unaware of her blood ties to the Blacks, her closeness to Riddle, who was also a low source of political power currently, made either of them the least likely to suffer his ire. This, unfortunately, left the Blacks as the primary targets. While they were safe in numbers, with Lucretia and Cygnus covering each other in every class, Walburga, Alphard and Orion were the more vulnerable targets as they were alone in their year groups. Alphard was seemingly the most worthless, as few of the Heirs and their Lords looked his way, which really served him well as a future Shadow. His apparent distance from everyone but Lucretia and his wandering eyes and aggressive pursuit of some of the nicer looking boys had tainted him in the eyes of the more traditional thinking Slytherins.

Her thoughts were momentarily derailed as a knock interrupted the silence of her cabin. She smiled to herself as the magic on the other side felt familiar. Having a shadow watching her every movement made it easy enough to tell him apart from the other students. "Enter." The ward on the door unlocked it and Alphard peeked his head in. "Mind if I join you?" Lilith waved her hand. "Not really." The boy sat opposite of her and the two sat in silence, with Lilith's eyes back on the window. "So, what do you want to talk about? Politics, classes or the way that the Slytherin colors of Herr Malfoy's scarf brings out the colors of his eyes." Alphard seemed to choke on air at the last comment, his face turning a nice shade of red. "And here I thought you only had eyes for Riddle." Lilith turned to Alphard and smirked. "He is someone I consider a possible friend and I will look after him, but I am not blind, Alphard. Though if you must know, I do find Druella's figure appealing. If only her attitude matched, and she wasn't a Rosier, then I would have given your brother some competition." Alphard smiled at her. "That would certainly be the day. But no, we can talk a little about politics. I was given permission to… recruit you in aiding the family in the coming years."

That certainly caught Lilith's interest. She was certain that Lord Black would have written her as a wasted effort. "Oh?" Alphard waved his wand, adding to Lilith's wards and sweeping the cabin. He leaned back into the seat. "Lord Black has decided to wrestle control away from Lord Rosier over the position of Speaker for the Dark." Lilith leaned back. "I did think his Heir would single you out as enemies and here we are, confirming that. We both know you aren't as easy to target, for both the skills you hide and the fact everyone with impared reasoning skills dismisses you as an eccentric black sheep. Or is it white sheep for the Blacks? Grandma was never certain." Alphard chuckled. "It's white, though it's mostly Walburga who calls me that. Regardless, my… superiors agree. The main targets will likely be Walburga and Orion, as they are alone in their year groups." Lilith ran through her memories of the Walburga that she met at the Manor through her portrait. She never revealed anything of her time at school, which told Lilith that something had happened in that time period or that Walburga didn't care at all for what her life at Hogwarts had been. Which was it? "I doubt Rosier would go after Walburga all that much, at least not directly. She's a prime candidate for a wife for many of the Heirs currently at school and is more in keeping with traditional views."

Alphard rubbed his chin. "So an indirect approach. Approaching her friends, influencing her beliefs and thoughts to be more in keeping with the Dark extremists?" Lilith nodded. "That would be my guess. Which leaves Orion. He is a direct male Heir in the line of succession. With just Lucretia, Arcturus would be forced to seek a male Heir elsewhere if something happened to him. Which would likely be Cygnus Junior. With him being enamoured with Druella…" Alphard cursed under his breath. "Of course. Though that would only happen if they covered their traces. Otherwise, the union would never be agreed to by the Head of House Black. At least, not right now as they are both wrestling for the position of Speaker." Lilith shrugged. "Which leaves proxies, of which there are several. If I were you I would reach out to the other first years, especially Davis and Greengrass. While their families are traditionally Neutral, they might be willing to agree to a more profitable relationship between them and House Black, in exchange for their kids looking after each other." Alphard nodded. "Agreed." He took out a piece of parchment and a fountain pen, which made Lilith stare at him. He noticed after getting through a few lines of text into his letter. "What, they're convenient."

Lilith chuckled and turned to look out the window, giving Alphard some privacy to write his letter, while also thinking about what the impact of her actions will have on the Blacks as she knew them. If her Blood Feud stood and pushed the Blacks into war against the Rosiers, the union of Druella and Cygnus might not happen. That would mean there would be no Black Sisters as she knew them. While she only met Bellatrix in passing the few times she was at Hogwarts in Lillian's seventh year, the woman had always given her mixed messages. On the one hand she was heavily devoted to the Dark Lord Voldemort, killing and torturing gleefully in his name. Yet in those few quiet times she had seen her on her own, Bellatrix had seemed… tired and lost. She remembered the moment that Bellatrix had tried to play with her once that year when Hogwarts was under Voldemort's control, trying to draw out any anger Lillian might have had for the murderer of her parents. Much to Bella's surprise, there was none. Lillian had stopped caring the moment she discovered that her parents had chosen the Order of the Phoenix over her own life. Instead, Lillian dared to challenge Bella for the part she played in Sirius's death, something Lillian had seen through her scrying bowl. Bella looked pained by the slight and Lillian realized that perhaps she hadn't meant to kill her cousin. They were just soldiers, fighting on opposite sides, but they were still family.

The thought of Sirius' death woke up an all too familiar ache in her heart. She had felt it on the 1st, when Alexander prepared that birthday breakfast feast for her. If she went through with this… Sirius might never be born. Lilith was certain that whatever had twisted Walburga into the pureblood maniac that she became had changed the way she looked at her cousin. Out of some desire for power or authority in the House of Black, she got pregnant with Sirius and was married to Orion, to avoid the scandal of a bastard child of the House of Black. That he was the next in line to be Heir and future Lord made the union seem all the more necessary to avoid any scandals or succession disputes. So if Lilith interfered and kept Walburga and Cygnus from following down the paths they once did… five lives would never be born as they once were. All because of her. Lilith clenched her fist as she fought the desire to cry. It wasn't fair. She could lead the House of Black down a better path, but at the cost of changing the next generation irrevocably. She again remembered all the wands that died in her hands at Ollivander's, wondering how many of those had been for the House of Black. Lilith hoped and prayed that her actions were worth all the lives it had cost. It had to be.

She wiped away a tear that escaped her eyes as someone knocked on the door to the cabin. After checking with Alphard, who stowed away his unfinished letter and fountain pen, she unlocked the door, the two left looking at an uncomfortable Orion, his grey eyes looking from one to the other nervously. "Do you think I could join you two? Lucretia and Walburga are arguing again and the cabin with my friends is full." Lilith gave him a soft smile. "Of course, Herr Black." The wards snapped into place as Orion closed the door behind him, before he sat by Lilith's side, Alphard giving Lilith an appraising look. Ignoring the future shadow and his thoughts, Lilith turned to Orion. "So, how are you liking Hogwarts so far? Excited to see what is coming in the next few months?" Orion nodded. "I am. Potions class has been fun, as has been Charms. Though I accidentally changed Professor Doge's hair blue when I miss pronounced a spell in Charms." Lilith blinked at him and wondered if it really was an accident. Maybe Sirius was more like his father than the man realized. She chuckled. "I am sure the Professor enjoyed the change in his routine. Not to mention that his accidental support of Ravenclaw House must have been fun to see." Orion's smile and giggle told her everything she needed to know. There was already a Marauder alive and well in the House of Black. Lilith swore then and there that, at the very least, she would protect Orion. If he could live a better life and become a great father to the next generation of Blacks, it would be worth it. And if a second generation of marauding devils were born, then all the better. The world could use more lively, innocent chaos in its midst right now.

Tom watched as the students entered through the front gates of Hogwarts as they returned from the Yuletide Recess, having read a copy of the Daily Prophet concerning the recent events at the Wizengamot. As far as Tom was concerned, the Rosier family's position and influence in the Dark faction was now beyond repair. The revelations of the mass executions being carried out within the territories controlled by the German Army and that Magicals were themselves being targeted by Grindelwald for both execution and the theft of their heritage proved beyond a doubt that Grindelwald didn't care for the supposed factions he was championing. Now it was just a question as to what the Rosiers would do with the change. If they doubled down and became belligerent, the support they enjoyed at the beginning of the war would evaporate entirely. After all, for a lot of the British Wizarding community, their initial approach to the war was to treat it as Europe's problem, not Britain's. If the Rosiers brought the war to Britain in the coming months, then it would spell the end for them. Unfortunately, Tom doubted the Rosiers would see it that way. Based on Valerio's stubbornness, he was certain they would just double down, further alienating themselves from the rest of the Wizengamot.

Watching as the members of the Black family entered, the youngest member talking excitedly with some of the other first years, Tom wondered how soon he would hear about the Malfoy and Nott Families approaching them. He had heard rumours about Cygnus being considered as a suitable partner for Druella Rosier, but if the current hostilities between the families increased, that union would seem less likely. He looked at both Walburga and Lucretia and wondered for a second if he could approach either, but squashed said thoughts quickly. Without a wizarding name of good standing, Tom was certain that Lord Black would dismiss any possible interactions between him and the girls, let alone consider him as viable for courting them. Not that either of them interested him that way, with Walburga being too self centered for his tastes, while Lucretia, both beautiful and well liked, never seemed to appeal to him. It wasn't until he saw a familiar cascade of red hair with black streaks that thoughts of courtships vanished entirely. Tom moved away from the wall and shadowed Lilith as much as he usually did, giving her quite the lead so as to not draw attention to himself. Oddly enough, the girl didn't seem to be heading to the Dungeons. As they passed the Hospital Wing, Tom guessed as to what her true destination was.

Giving Lilith enough time to enter the hidden room within the top of the North Tower, Tom followed through, the sight of the far more comfortable room quickly relaxing him as he stepped inside. Lilith had apparently found spare Slytherin rugs and curtains with the aid of the Hogwarts elves, who were more than happy to place them in the chamber, as it gave them all a new place to clean. Slowly but surely, the room was filled with more furniture, much of it old but still in good condition, with several lanterns spread out for lighting. In a lot of ways the room felt like a private Slytherin Common Room, which served Tom quite well. He had come up to the chamber a few times during the winter, though Dumbledore's meddling kept him from spending the nights here as he would have liked. Lilith lit the last and furthest lantern, before sighing. "My apologies, Herr Riddle, but I am not in the mood for company right now." Tom narrowed his eyes at her, going over her facial expressions from the moment she passed through the Castle's Doors. She had seemed amicable enough, chatting with Cassandra Moon and Moaning Myrtle. So why would she be unwilling to converse with him?

His recall, however, did allow him to catch something he had missed the first time around. The moment her eyes sweeped the entrance before landing on him, her expression going from pleasant to pained followed by a cold detachment he was all too familiar with. He had been practicing that look in the mirror for years. While he would ordinarily oblige such a request, something in him couldn't leave well enough alone when it came to this girl. "What happened?" Lilith's eyes narrowed on him in a face that was the most vicious he had yet seen on her, before she looked… guilty, her eyes turning away from him. "Nothing happened." Tom moved closer, catching a small glimpse of her face before she pushed him back. "Just leave me alone!" Tom froze, feeling a sudden urge to strike her before he restrained himself. He tried to remember where he saw the look in her eyes before. He knew he saw it somewhere back at Wool's Orphanage. The image appeared in his mind as clear as it had been that day several years back, the moment he and several of the kids looked through one of the doors of the orphanage. That winter had been particularly bad, with very little food provided to the children.

Within the confines of one of the dorm rooms, one of the older boys had been fighting another for a bit of food, or so the Matron had told them in the days after. At the moment the incident happened, all any of the other kids knew was that one of the women taking care of the kids screamed in terror. Tom and a few of the more curious kids managed to sneak a peek before the Matron yelled at them all to return to their rooms. On the floor of the room had lain the body of one of the older boys, his white shirt stained crimson, dead, fathomless eyes frozen in a look of utter shock. A few feet away from the body was his roommate, who was sitting on the floor, a knife covered in blood, the blade looking bent and chipped, staring at the body with a look of horror and guilt, his mouth gaping open yet silent. The eyes of the boy had looked almost hollowed out, as if his life had vanished from within his eyes. Those eyes remained unchanged, even as the police led the boy away in handcuffs. Tom caught that same look in Lilith's eyes just a moment earlier, a look she tried her best to conceal, his moment of rage feeling unjustified as he stepped back. "You killed someone, didn't you?"

Lilith's eyes latched onto him, those green orbs staring into his soul as they flashed with magic, before she closed them, her bottom lip being bitten down. The control she seemed to be exerting over herself faded as she collapsed onto the sofa, where she remained silent. Tom sat down on the opposite sofa, looking her over and seeing no injuries he could see. He was opening his mouth when she spoke up, her voice soft but feeling heavy in a way that froze Tom to his core. "You've thought about doing it too, haven't you? Taking a life?" Tom swallowed nervously but found that lying now… seemed utterly wrong. "Yes." Those green eyes focused on him now, looking sunken in, bags under her eyes being far more easy to see now. He wondered if she had cast some illusion on herself that had faded just now. Tom pushed on, his need to know overwhelming any thoughts of propriety. "What was it like?" The redhead before him flinched and it looked like Tom had lost the chance to know what it felt like from her perspective, before she spoke up. "In all honesty, it's exhilarating. The feel of power in your hands, the rush of the taboo of taking a life. The satisfaction in knowing that it was you who did it. It's intoxicating."

She took a deep breath before looking Tom in the eyes. "But the feeling afterwards? It's horrible. It felt as if I was suffocating. My hands felt filthy and nothing I did could get them clean. And the cold… it felt as if it reached my bones, a cold that threatened to be with me forever. For days it felt like… I didn't belong in my own skin." Lilith shivered before him, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Tom felt an urge to touch her, to comfort her as he tried to process her words. He sat back, deep in thought before Lilith's voice snapped him out and brought back his focus into the moment. "Tom… I know that I shouldn't ask this of you, but please. Don't try and kill someone unless it's absolutely necessary. The feeling of power and control that death brings… it doesn't feel right. It feels like a piece of you is lost, possibly forever. So please, make sure it's only to protect yourself or another, not out of curiosity. The person I killed was a rapist and a murderer, and even still I felt horible afterwards. Please, make sure it's worth it before you commit to it. Otherwise… you might lose sight of who you truly wish to be." Tom closed his eyes, memorizing the way his first name sounded from her lips. There was something about the way she said that just meant something more. He wondered what the feeling was from. Thinking over her words, Tom nodded. "I will. Thank you, for being honest with me. And for the Christmas presents."

The smile on her face actually managed to reach her eyes, as her posture seemed to grow more relaxed. "Ich bin froh. I wasn't sure what kind of presents to get you. Anything too ostentatious or different didn't seem right and I wasn't sure if you would have liked a different style of bag, so I made do with an enchanted one. Is the player working properly?" Tom nodded as Lilith stood up, pulling out her own player. "I hope you don't mind. I haven't exactly had to relax all that well this last week and business kept me from… from putting certain memories out of my mind." Tom waved his hand but stayed silent as music started to fill the room. He watched as Lilith seemed to lose herself in the music, before she eventually fell asleep. Tom approached her gently, looking over her appearance, stretching out a hand as if to touch her cheek. He stopped and pulled back, before looking through one of the trunks in the room, pulling out a green blanket. He placed it over her body, seeing her tense for a second before relaxing once more. Tom returned to his sofa and retreated into his own mind, going over everything from the day. There was a lot he had to reconsider now, though one thing he was certain about. He wanted to trust her with his secret. He just had to figure out how to be certain that she would stand by his side, no matter what.

Chapter 9: Restless Forces

"You two be careful with them. They aren't as dangerous as people think but they will bite your fingers off if you aren't paying enough attention." Professor Ross took a few steps back and watched as Lilith and Cassandra approached the Thestrals, both of whom pulled out the slabs of meat from their individual buckets. The Ravenclaw blonde approached them without a care in the world and presented her slab of meat to the nearest Thestral, who snatched it out of her hands quickly. Lilith approached the other one in the next stall, its pupiless white eyes staring at her. She swallowed nervously as the creature smelled the meat in her palm, before it proceeded to smell her hair. Lilith froze as it seemed to lean out towards her, before it started rubbing its head against her cheek, eventually taking her offering of food. The Professor came forward and caressed the head of the Thestral, even as Lilith felt his gaze on her. She wondered for a second if the man really had an enchanted eye hidden beneath the eyepatch. She wouldn't put it past Theseus, as he was known to be just as paranoid as the rest of the Dark Creature Hunters. Maybe he was less interested in advertising that fact, unlike Mad Eye. Now that was a man who didn't care about how he looked, as long as he took down Death Eaters.

"Easy there, Exu." Lilith blinked. "Exu? As in the Brazilian name for a Yoruba Deity?" Theseus chuckled. "I thought you might know that name. From what I remember Nicholas was quite the scholar, trying to find ties between the entities of the world and magical phenomena." Lilith provided another slab of meat to Exu, with the Thestral chopping down on it quickly. "Father wanted to see if there were families like ours on every continent, people who dedicated their lives to understanding and interacting with the Darker Creatures of our world. He had planned to extend our influence further, building a network of keepers of the Dark. Unfortunately, Grindelwald stopped that dream from ever happening." The Professor pulled back and turned towards. "A shame, really. I certainly look forward to hearing if you decide to follow in his footsteps in that regard as I could see much of the world's misconceptions about Dark Creatures dispelled. I am also sorry about how both your parents were taken from this world. Nicholas was a good man, like his father." Lilith blushed a little. "I heard that Grandfather and you had an argument, that it was the reason you never returned to the Schwarzwald Estate." The aging Professor nodded. "Aye, I will admit that I made a mistake, one I have paid for dearly in the years since. Still, despite that, I always respected your family and it is good to see you handling yourself as a von Schwarzwald should. I will let you two handle feeding the rest while I go get the carriages." Lilith followed with her eyes the retreating form of the professor, before feeding the Thestral another slab of meat.

"He knows but he won't say anything, just like the Thestrals. It's not their place to judge." Lilith sighed, before looking at her friend as she stroked the head of one of the creatures, wondering if she could see them as a Seer, or if perhaps she had seen someone die through her sight, or worse yet if she had someone die right in front of her eyes, despite her attempt to change their fate. Lilith turned to the next Thestral in the stalls, feeding it, unwilling to bring that subject up, though more to keep quiet as to the reasons the Thestrals now seem more interested in her. That Tom was able to figure out that she had killed someone from just a few glances at her spoke greatly about the boy's intelligence and deductive skills, which did make her wonder how such a smart person was foolish enough to split their soul. Had it been fear of something more concrete than just death or did he make a mistake? Lilith prayed that she never found out, though she feared that it could still eventually rear its ugly head. In her heart, she didn't want to lose the young man she had found within Slytherin. Lilith quite liked the more sane and controlled Tom in her class, though she could see traces of the man he could still become. His curiosity over what it felt to take a life and that flash of anger when she tried to deny him what he wanted were very much akin to what she saw in the final days of the war. Lilith could only hope that her confession and genuine description of what killing felt like would help him become better grounded, and not lead him to become a butcher once more.

"Has your uncle warned you about what his actions in the Wizengamot might result in?" Cassandra paused for a moment, tilting her head to the side, as if hearing something in the moment, though Lilith saw and heard nothing but the neighing of the Thestrals as they called out for more food. "He did. Grandmother and I knew as much. You don't have to worry about me, though. I will be fine." Lilith moved closer to her friend. "Are you sure? Valerio doesn't strike me as the type to leave things well enough alone. After all the losses to his position, let alone his father's growing frustration, he will look for a way to better his position in Slytherin and the Rosier family as a whole, or to at least try and intimidate and shame his enemies. You are a clear target, after the Minister blocked Lord Rosier from delaying the vote any further, not to mention that you and I are friends." Cassandra nodded. "I know but there are things that can't be prevented, even by your best intentions, Lily. All I can tell you is that I will be fine and that you don't need to worry too much. Someone else will be looking after me." Lilith sighed. "Alright, but please be careful… Cassie." The blonde blushed softly at Hazel's use of a nickname, before they both resumed their job of feeding the Thestrals, as the Professor returned. The two left after helping him attach the carriages to the now satiated creatures, before returning to the castle.

"Riddle." Tom stopped writing his Dueling written assignment, making sure to not spill a drop onto the parchment, before placing the quill to the side. He looked up across the table in the Hogwarts Library and stared at Alphard Black, feeling a bit tense. It was unusual for odd members of the Black family to approach Tom out of the few times when they were required to be near each other, though it was usually Alphard that started the interactions in the first place. The boy's eyes looked over Tom quickly before he gave him a soft smile. "Did you finish Merrythought's assignment on Erlkings?" Tom nodded. "I did, though I might have gone a bit over the requested limit." Alphard chuckled as he sat down. "Not surprised. That's what happens when the Professor talks about an Austrian Dark Creature with an Austrian Dark Witch in the class. The amount of information in von Schwarzwald's head is terrifying at times. I had trouble keeping track of everything. Think you could help me out with my assignment? Not for free, of course." Alphard revealed a few galleons in his hand and Tom sighed, storing his Dueling assignment away. He pulled out his Defence notebook and opened into the relevant pages. "Sure." Alphard joined him on his side of the table and pulled out his own assignment, as the two went over the particulars of the creature.

Everyone who had paid attention knew that the moment Merrythought started the discussion on the creatures, Lilith would be asked about them. What the class got was one hell of a lecture, including the fact that there are two variants of the Erlkings, something that according to Lilith, was due in part to mistranslations and misunderstandings between the Germanic and Danish communities. The Erlking as discussed in the Defence textbook is based on the Germanic variant found within the forests of Germany and Austria. Lilith's description was so in depth that one of the Gryffindors, Minerva McGonagall, had asked if she had seen one herself. Lilith had looked across the classroom at the studious Gryffindor. "I have. I also saw what the creatures do to the children who are unfortunate enough to fall prey to them. Though they resemble elves in appearance, you can tell them apart by their eyes, which look sunken in and are far less kind. Their nature is to lie and coerce, to draw in those foolish enough to wander in the forests at dusk. These creatures of the Unseelie Court will take the children into the woods and torture them for days, though if a child is about to be rescued by the community, they are petty enough to kill them outright. Like Dementors, these creatures feed on the pain and misery of the living. The variant of the Scandinavians is similar, though these prey exclusively on the adults. They are closer to incubi and succubi in nature. Some even suspect that they and the Germanic Mara are…"

The rest of the class went into a discussion about the spells that were used to discover if an Erlking was near, as well as those that worked against them offensively. Merrythought made it clear that standard Revelio spells did work, as well as stunners and binding charms. Lilith pointed out that spells with a wider area of effect were more efficient, as the creatures were small, nimble and fast. The assignment had been to cover what other spells could be used to both uncover the location of an Erlking and incapacitate it, with a focus on the Germanic variant, as the Scandinavian variant was less likely to be countered by conventional means as it was closer to a Bogart and a Poltergeist than a physical creature. Tom had still researched how to deal with those creatures regardless, as the Castle was home to one Poltergeist and was frequented by Bogarts. Best to be prepared and all. As the two went over the lists of spells, Tom began to notice that Alphard wasn't as surprised by his more obscure choices of spells or his less conventional counter. While a wide area Banishing Spell had been commented on and demonstrated by the professor in class, with the next class being dedicated to how to cast the spell and its counter, Tom chose to focus on other aspects of the creature's weaknesses to single out. As a creature of the Unseelie Court, something that most students just dismissed from Lilith's explanation, the Erlking was also vulnerable to certain physical elements. Like Iron.

Alphard, however, had a greater focus on what forms of magic could be applied, including the use of wards as both a means of containment and prevention. As they went over a few of his ward choices, Tom kept eying the oddest member of the Black family, which Alphard noticed. "What?" Tom narrowed his eyes. "Did you really need my assistance with this or was there another reason you wanted to talk to me?" Alphard's face slowly shifted, revealing a knowing smile, as a ward activated around them. "Not bad, Riddle. Still, it works as a cover, right? Seeing as to how often Nott and Malfoy approach you with galleons in their hands, it does make anyone approaching in a similar manner less suspicious to you, or to other watchful eyes." Tom closed his eyes and counted to ten. "What do you want from me?" Alphard hummed to himself as he rested his chin on his propped up hand. "What, I can't have an excuse to get closer to you and your lovely blue eyes? Though they were nicer a few moments ago." Tom clenched his hand and Alphard sighed, realising that his fun was over. "In all fairness, I wanted to know where you fell into all this. The chaos with Rosier, Malfoy's father trying to make a stronger claim among the Dark faction. Not to mention the reason why you and von Schwarzwald seem to get along so well. Though I can say that the latter has done wonders for you." Tom blinked at Alphard as he relaxed his hand. "What do you mean?"

The curly haired Black smiled at Tom. "You have been able to relax more this term. It suits you better than whenever you try to maintain that empty smile of yours or when you get angry like earlier. It certainly does make you more appealing to the ladies, though most are keeping their distance from you because of Lilith. If she can take out Rosier the way she did at the start of term, no one wants to know what she might do to someone getting close to you." Tom grumbled. "Yeah, well, it's not working on you, is it?" Alphard chuckled. "Of course not, because I know her. I would have to do something real stupid to get on her bad side. Still, it makes me curious… about what exactly it is about her that makes you relax so much." Tom scrunched his brow. "I… don't know." Alphard smiled knowingly at him, "I believe you. Still, I am being truthful. You have gotten better this year and if it's thanks to her then don't be a moron and ruin it. I am sure that you have guessed by now that she is a relative of ours. Cygnus and Walburga won't do much about it right now as they haven't gotten the chance to know her all that well, but Lucretia and I will. Don't hurt her, Riddle. Now then, care to share where you stand on Rosier?" Tom was silent for a moment, trying to determine exactly why Alphar was asking, considering his own distance from the Black Family politics. Perhaps there was more to the boy than he initially considered.

"I will admit…I had been hoping to strengthen my position in Slytherin and had considered approaching him and his supporters, but after his quick decline, I thought better of it. Pretty sure Malfoy and Nott are in agreement and are also keeping their distance, especially now as everyone seems to be expecting something to happen." Alphard pursed his lips. "Well… I am glad to hear about your choices, as well as theirs, but I am also concerned about Rosier's potential retaliation or show of force. I know that it's not my place but please, for Lilith's sake and that of her friends, keep your eyes and ears open. Even if you can't act overtly, try to help them out if something were to happen. My attention, unfortunately, needs to be on Orion and Walburga, especially as the Travers and Goyle Heirs, and their relations, have taken an unpleasant interest in my sister. I can't say that House Black would repay the kindness, but I would seek to repay it personally." Tom stared at the handsome boy, feeling the growing dread from the last few weeks deepen, and simply nodded at him in silence. Alphard dropped the wards, packed his bags and thanked him for his help, leaving behind a few Galleons on the table. Tom looked them over in his hand, running through everything Alphard had said. He left the Library soon after, his mind deep in thought on how he should proceed.

Cassandra eyed the corridors carefully as she and Myrtle discussed the latest Divination class. "Do you think it actually means something? The whole Death Omen in my tea cup thing?" Cassandra looked at her friend and sighed. When they had first met, she had gotten a glimpse of what the brunette's future would have been like. She saw her being bullied and made fun of, treated as no better than a bastard daughter despite having no relations at all in the Magical World. It had pained her so much to see that fate that she broke the rules around how Seers should behave and befriended her. Unfortunately, that meant that Cassandra had also caught a brief glimpse as to a possible death of Myrtle's, one of a quick and sudden end in a most vulnerable moment at the hands of a large serpent, but said vision had grown blurred. The events surrounding her friend's possible end were now in flux and it both delighted and worried the young Seer. Her grandmother was still telling her to break away from her before she got hurt but Cassandra refused to listen to her. Her decision felt even more right when Lily started doing the same for Myrtle, inviting her into discussions on Charms and History.

Lily had been such an odd person for Cassie to find. Where most people had echoes of future events around them, Lily felt like a storm. Cassie could catch stray events surrounding her newest friend whenever they dealt with events beyond her control, but aside from those, the redhead's future was like a void. She had thought about telling her Grandmother about her but she didn't want another lesson in how Seers needed to be impartial, to walk the line of knowing what was to come and not doing anything about it. Cassie had hated that rule from the moment she watched a little boy die when she bumped into his shoulder in Diagon Alley. She had begged her Grandmother to tell the family to keep him out of the street on the boy's birthday. The Dowager Moon told her that she couldn't because no one would believe her. The boy's photo in the Daily Prophet, describing his death in an automobile accident on the road near his home, had broken Cassandra's heart. She knew then that her gift was more than that. It was a curse too. To see the suffering of so many people and to catch glimpses of their final moments… Why would Magic give her such a talent if she couldn't do anything about it?

That was the reason she loved spending time with Lily. The odd girl with echoes of two lives actually took Cassandra's words seriously and instead of telling her to be detached, the girl just told her that maybe the best option was to bring a little more happiness into the world around her. Cassie loved that positive attitude and embraced it, hoping that she could help out her friend from Slytherin with her own pain. Because there was so much of it. She had never seen Magic treat a person so poorly, literally tearing apart a witch just because of who she was and what she did. Cassie could guess as to where Lily came from, especially when the glimpses of her friend's past matched those of possible futures she had seen in others, especially in and around the Deputy Headmaster, whose presence alone made goosebumps rise all over Cassandra's body. Professor Dumbledore had never been a favorite of hers. The moment she met him, Cassie knew he was very much like her Grandmother; cold, detached and only pretending to care for the wellbeing of others, though her grandmother at least cared for her family. He cared alright, as long as that person's path matched his own expectations of them. He had dismissed her quickly as she wasn't interested in following her uncle's footsteps into politics and Cassandra was happy enough to keep her distance. Shaking her head, she wondered why he treated those with Dark affinities so poorly. The way Dumbledore treated Lily and Tom was never going to bring anything but pain to others. At least Lily knew that and was doing something about it.

Tom was another person that she had difficulty being near, at least in the past. She had bumped into him once in the corridors and was wracked by images of death. Except they weren't visions of his death, but of others, many painful and sickening to behold. She knew then that the boy's future was a dark and terrible one, but like with Myrtle, there was nothing that she could do. The boy hadn't done anything wrong, she could feel that too, meaning that even if she warned him, it would be pointless, as the reasons behind the shift in his behaviour were yet to be made manifest. Oddly enough, however, she could feel a similar shifting current around him too, not that different from Lilith's. With his, however, it felt less unstable. She had briefly considered bumping into him again and seeing if anything had changed, but had thought against it. Even a Seer knew better than to look into future events too closely, lest they made them manifest by the very act of perceiving them. Letting the future and events unfold wasn't always a Seer's choice, but when they could choose to do so, all would steer clear and let matters resolve themselves. The worst visions were about the Seers themselves. Those were hard to know how a Seer should act and it left even the most wise uneasy.

Seeing the concern on Myrtle's face, concern that was over her own experiences concerning fate in Divination, Cassandra tried to give her friend a reassuring smile. "I don't know. Death Omens are hard to understand because Death and Fate are seen as distinct entities. What Fate decides isn't always what Death approves of and even then, you have a hand in what your future will be like as well. In a way, a Death Omen is like a soothsayer telling you that you will die one day. Since we aren't immortal, it's bound to happen. The Omens never come with a date on them so there is no way of being sure as to why you have it. Besides, it doesn't mean you shouldn't have any fun while you are still alive, right?" Myrtle smiled softly. "I guess not. By the way, do you think we can meet over the summer in Diagon Alley with Lilith? I would love to introduce you to my parents! I told them all about you two when I was back home for the Holidays. My little brother kept teasing me about my friends being imagined and all." Cassandra nodded. "Sure! If Lily isn't too busy with her family's responsibilities, I am sure she could make some time for us." Myrtle clapped her hands together. "That's great! Dad's been so busy working in the House of Parliament that he hasn't been able to relax at all. With the war still going on and the Prime Minister keeping the government running, it hasn't been easy for him."

Cassandra nodded before flincing slightly. The glympse she just got of the near future blinding her momentarily. Assimilating as much of the vision as she could, she turned to her friend and gave her a sheepish smile. "Say, I left a copy of a Divination book that deals with Death Omens on my bed in the Dorms. Think you can go grab it for me while I go looking for Lily? You can ask her about this summer before we start working on the History assignment. You know how Lily gets when it comes to Binns and his use of "A History of Magic."" Myrtle looked at Cassandra oddly. "No, it's fine. I trust you about the Death Omen thing. Besides, I don't want to make Lily any more mad. She seems to hate Divination." With what Cassandra saw of Lily's past and how twisted it had all become, she was certain that her hate of Divination was warranted. The fact she still had no problems being friends with a Seer showed Cassie just how divorced the study was from the practice, at least in her time period. "Still, I am sure it would be better for any doubts to be cleared up." Myrtle made no moves to change directions and Cassandra started to worry. "Myrtle, please, just go. NOW!" Her friend turned to her, surprised at her tone of voice, but it was too late. The last thing Cassandra saw were two bright flashes of red light before her world went dark.

Lilith was seated with Orion and his group of first years in the Hogwarts Library going over their Defence homework on Ghosts and Poltergeists, especially on which spells could actually affect the spiritual entities, when a Ravenclaw first year came running towards her. "Miss von Schwarzwald! Some Slytherins attacked Miss Moon and her friend. They were on their way here from their Divination class!" Lilith stared at the kid for a second before she pushed her seat back and stood up. "You four stay here." The kids nodded as Lilith rushed to Madam Bulstrode and passed on the information, with the Librarian sending word to the Headmaster, as Lilith rushed out of the Library. Running through the fourth floor corridor towards the nearest staircase leading up into the fifth floor, she briefly paused in front of one of the Hogwarts Emblem plaques on the wall. Making sure no one was watching her, even under disillusionment, she pressed a bloodied finger on the Slytherin emblem and whispered in Parseltongue. ~"Oh Castle most Ancient, reveal to me the location of the two girls I seek to protect."~ Guessing that the other girl in question was Myrtle, she kept the image and magical presences of both in her mind as the Castle's wards coiled around her, testing her attempt to gain temporary access. Like the Peverell Cloak, the Castle was able to identify her as a possible Slytherin Heir and gave her a brief connection to the wards.

A disembodied image of the fifth floor showed the girls being pulled towards an abandoned classroom as a third Slytherin that looked a lot like Rosier walked away in another direction. Lilith cursed under her breath as she broke the connection to the wards and vanished all trace of her blood. As she reached the fifth floor corridor after taking the staircase, Lilith dug into her robes pockets and pulled out a disc made of stone. While Lilith was more interested in a more advanced version of enchantments and magic, her experiments, other than the record player, had yet to bear much success. In order to keep her options open, she had tested a few runic arrays on discs that could replicate what she had set up in the Slytherin Common Room. These arrays lacked the intent aspect of the ward and had to be manually triggered but they should still draw energy from the Hogwarts wards into the discs to power them and hopefully immobilize the target. Lilith briefly touched her wand but the sudden flash of pain from the way it interacted with her fingers told her that today was not a good day to try her luck. She would have to make do. Still, better safe than sorry. Feeling a massive drain on her magic, she allowed a corporeal Patronus to form wandlessly. The Winged Serpent coiled around her arm as Lilith fought back the need to speak to it in Parseltongue. "Two Slytherins attacked two Ravenclaws on the Fifth Floor, dragging them into a room, second corridor away from the staircase near Doge's office. Please hurry!"

With the Patronus on its way to Slughorn, Lilith checked the intersection and found no one guarding it, though she found a faint echo of a disillusionment charm. Seeing nothing of concern, she approached the door and tried to open it. Finding it locked, Lilith held a disc in her right hand as she pressed her left palm against the door. Drawing on her Magic, Lilith bit her lip as it struggled to answer her summons. The spell she was using wasn't the most subtle but she needed to catch the people inside by surprise. It was a good thing the door wasn't warded by the Castle, or she would never try the spell in the first place. Feeling that she had enough magic gathered, a panting Lilith closed her eyes. "Perrumpo Expugnatio!" The siege engine spell impacted the door with enough force to actually shatter it into splinters, the force almost throwing Lilith back but she braced herself against the impact. Her eyes quickly swept the room as her vision turned clear, her blood instantly turning hot at what she saw. One of the boys had Myrtle draped over a table, torn bits of cloth scattered around as the other held Cassandra from behind, his wand pointed at Cassie's throat as he seemed to be forcing her to watch. Moving quickly into the chaos that her spell caused, Lilith threw the disc towards Cassandra and what looked like Travers, activating the array as it left her hand, before rushing forward and grabbing the other student by his neck.

Pulling him back and away from an exposed Myrtle, Lilith didn't hesitate. She smashed her boot into the back of the boy's knee, hearing a noticeable crunch before he howled in pain, as they both collapsed onto the floor, where Lilith grabbed the kid's head with both her hands and smashed it hard on the ground, though not enough to crack his skull. Lilith then turned quickly to the two bodies lying on the floor from the ward disc, the strong magical force keeping both pinned down, not wishing to force her friend to endure much longer under the effects of the enchantment. As the ward used her magic as a catalyst, Lilith was able to pull the wand out of Travers' hand without being affected by the disc's magic, before she grabbed Travers' head. The moment she disabled the ward she raised his head up and slammed it back down hard, knocking him out instantly. Breathing heavily from the exertion, Lilith started helping a grateful Cassandra to stand, before catching the Ravenclaw looking over her shoulder and seeing her silver eyes widen. Raising her hand to shield Cassandra, Lilith briefly saw the light of a red spell before she felt the impact. Her entire body was suddenly wracked with a familiar pain that she remembered from her seventh year as Lillian, as the Carrows were "teaching" the Unforgivables to the students. Lillian had refused to cast the spell on one of her classmates and the Professors made an example of her.

Finding the spell to be nowhere near as bad now, especially when compared to the nights that kept her screaming in pain as her magics rebelled against her, Lilith turned towards the Slytherin on the ground, who was holding his wand in her direction as he tried to stem the flow of blood from his broken nose. Fighting through the pain, she rushed towards him, surprising the boy with how ineffective his spell was, before her boot impacted his jaw, his body now falling limp completely. Breathing heavily, Lilith held herself up by reclining her side against the table that Myrtle had been on, the Ravenclaw brunette covering herself as much as possible as Cassandra came to her side. The blonde wrapped her own robe around the girl as she started to shake, before she rushed into Cassandra's arms, crying. "By the Gods!" At the sound of another person's voice, Lilith turned slightly and looked at the three Professors standing by the door, all looking stunned at the situation. She gave Headmaster Dippet a smile before looking at the Ravenclaw Head of House. "Professor Greengrass, do you mind taking your two students to the Hospital Wing and calling the DMLE? I can't say that I am in any position to get my friends there myself." Lilith dropped to the ground beside the table, her vision narrowing as the Headmaster and her Head of House tried to catch her. The sudden impact of her head against stone reminded Lilith that Karma was real and that she was very much a bitch.

"You and your Aurors are allowed to interview the patients but unless you charge them with any crime, the moment they want the interviews to end, they will end. You understand me, Head Auror Shafiq?" Lilith heard a deep sigh from behind her privacy screen as Madam Prewett looked at her injuries. "Very well, Headmaster Dippet. Based on your initial assessment, we are prepared to hold Mr Travers and Mr Rowle in DMLE custody as soon as your Healer releases them. However, I don't have to tell you that this matter will get political quickly. Auror Potter, please interview Miss von Schwarzwald. I will handle the other two as soon as the Mind Healers arrive, not to mention Miss Moon's Family solicitor and her parents. Document everything by the book. This will probably turn into a shitstorm and we don't need to get drawn into it by doing sloppy work." Lilith's eyes widened as her heart started beating wildly, when she heard the cool and collected voice of a woman. "Trust me Kashif, I know how bad this can turn into. If you will excuse me." The privacy screen surrounding Lilith's bed was pulled open and a woman with piercing brown eyes and long brown hair tied in a braid looked between Lilith and the Healer.

Madam Prewett stood up and approached the Auror. "Take it easy on her, Euphemia. She took a nasty hit to the head and is still magically exhausted. She also suffers from a magical condition that she would like to be kept off the record. You can check with me about it but you are not to add it to your report or this is the last time I let you interview a patient of mine. Got it?" Euphemia nodded. "I understand, Teresa." Lilith spoke up. "Any time a spell would have seemed like a better idea on my part, but I didn't use any, is because of said condition preventing me from doing so." Those brown eyes locked onto Lilith's. "Right, that is going to complicate things. Teresa, if you would." The Healer closed the privacy screen and activated the spells that came with it, before she sat beside her patient. Euphemia pulled open her red robes and took a seat, before pulling out a dicta quill and a piece of expanding parchment. "This is Euphemia Potter, Auror, interviewing Miss Lilith von Schwarzwald-" Lilith decided to interrupt her. "That would be Lady or Frau von Schwarzwald. Your British laws recognize that I have the right to my family title as a refugee and not a naturalized citizen."

Euphemia raised an eyebrow but continued. "Right. Lady von Schwarzwald, fifteen years of age and currently studying at Hogwarts as a fourth year. In attendance is Teresa Prewett, acting as In Loco Parentis and Miss von Schwarzwald's healer. Interview concerning the events that occured on January 21st 1942 on the fifth floor of Hogwarts Castle. Lady von Schwarzwald, please go over the events about the assaults as far as you know them. No detail is too small or insignificant, so please, don't hesitate to speak your mind." Lilith swallowed and repeated as much of the events as she could freely describe, all the while trying to control her emotions. Siting before her was her Grandmother, who had to be a recent graduate of the Castle. Lilith had initially wondered why she hadn't been at the school, but then again she had never been able to find much info on the former McKinnon, as both the Potter and McKinnon Manors in her time had been destroyed. What little she knew of Euphemia was what Sirius would tell her about the woman who treated him as a second son, and what little Alexander knew and sent her way after the start of term. Sirius and Euphemia had apparently met thanks to Dorea and Euphemia being quite close to each other as sisters-in-law. When Dorea passed on, Euphemia kept a close eye on her sister's favorite great nephew and didn't hesitate to take him in when he ran away from Grimmauld in the summer before his fifth year.

Her Godfather's description had obviously been of Euphemia as a mother. This younger version of her grandmother was a lot more intense, doing her best to find all possible bits of information that could clear up any missing details. Lilith, unfortunately, couldn't say that Rosier was involved, as she would be forced to reveal as to how she was able to see the students through the wards. She also didn't want to draw attention to the kid that rushed in and told her of the attack. As a Ravenclaw student, he wouldn't have much protection from Rosier if the schwine went after the kid. She did mention she was in the Library and that Madam Bulstroude could verify it, wishing to keep Orion and his friends out of trouble too. Euphemia seemed to understand when Lilith mentioned they were far too young to be involved in this mess. "The solicitors for the two boys you incapacitated will question as to why you went for physical attacks rather than magic." Lilith smiled at her. "I believe the Hogwarts Charter mentions that using magic in the hallways is forbidden without adult supervision." Euphemia looked Lilith right in the eyes. "And yet, you destroyed the door with a spell." Lilith shrugged. "A door is one thing, a student is another. Besides, I think the use of the Cruciatus Curse makes his crime far more serious than my use of the floor as an anesthetic."

Teresa's snort made Euphemia smile slightly. "That it does. Do you have the documentation to confirm the use of a Cruciatus Curse on your patient, Healer Prewett?" The madam nodded. "I did and it was signed and verified by my assistant. I have called for a Senior Healer from St. Mungos to arrive and confirm my diagnosis. As the damage caused by the curse can't be reversed by anything but time, there is no way to hide the results and Miss von Schwarzwald won't be leaving the Hospital Wing until the verification is completed." Euphemia nodded as she took the dictaquill and stored it and the dried parchment away into a pocket within her robes. "Teresa, let's go into your office so you can fill me in on this condition of your patient. I promise that it won't go into my report, I just need to be certain it won't be an issue with the medical results or the investigation." Lilith sighed and remained in the Hospital Wing until the Healers arrived from St. Mungos. So as to not influence the testimonies, Lilith wasn't allowed to talk to either Cassandra or Myrtle, the latter apparently suffering from shock after the older student almost raped her. Lilith was already planning to contact her friend's family by owl. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement wasn't known for doing a good job of informing the parents of Muggleborns, even in this era.

After being released, Lilith made her way to the Slytherin Common Room, when she felt a familiar shadow coming up from behind. "How stable was it, your Disillusionment spell? It was only effective when you stood still, wasn't it?" Tom moved up a little bit closer. "I don't know what you are talking about, Miss von Schwarzwald." Lilith gave Tom a smirk. "Of course you don't, Herr Riddle. I assume you don't know anything about a young Ravenclaw first year that knew exactly how to describe where the attack took place?" Tom smirked back. "Of course not." Lilith hummed to herself as she slowed down, before reaching up and gently squeezing Tom's upper arm. "Danke, Herr Riddle." Tom nodded softly as he moved further back, before Lilith entered the Common Room. She could feel quite a few eyes on her and she knew that her actions today would have repercussions. She didn't care what they said about her House loyalty. Cassandra and Myrtle were her friends and she would protect them, even from her housemates. As she reinforced her wards, Lilith fought through the effects of the Cruciatus Curse and the building episode as her Magic had gone through quite the workout to pen two letters. One was on its way to Alexander, while the other was to her Solicitor. She sent both through the latter's letterbox, before giving in to the pain as she collapsed onto the bed. Lilith did smile though, at the thought of the coming Wizengamot Trial, even as arcs of red and green magic raced across her skin. It might not be Rosier on the stand, but a little chaos would be good for the Lords and Ladies. They had been complacent enough as it was.

Chapter 10: Building Trust

"So, how did it go, Elder Lothbrok, Wyrm Slayer?" The usually dower Goblin gave her a toothy smile as he sat down behind his office's desk. "Quite well, Frau von Schwarzwald. As expected, my presence in the Wizengamot caused quite the stir with the wand wavers." Lilith hummed. "And the DMLE? How did Director Crouch and the Minister take it?" The goblin laughed. "Old Caspar Crouch didn't know what hit him. No to mention Lord Travers and his allies. The latter, of course, tried to have me removed from the chamber, but as your official solicitor and representative for the Trial, they had no choice but to accept me. When I submitted the memory crystals, they tried everything to invalidate them, but the treaty between our nations is quite clear. Caspar himself looked both impressed and terrified at the implications this case will have on all future investigations. Gringotts is certainly looking forward to seeing if our memory crystals gain greater demand in the coming days." Lilith chuckled as she sat back. While she wasn't a fan of the price tag that came with Lotbrok, the cousin of the Goblin King and Director of Gringotts, he definitely knew how to play politics and read the letter of the law. As criminal investigations sometimes required the DMLE and the Ministry to acquire evidence from the Goblins for corruption and embezzlement crimes, a treaty needed to guarantee that evidence submitted by the Goblins was to be admissible to the Wizengamot, though it would still be reviewed.

While memories weren't entirely admissible in the Wizengamot, though Minister Moon did push for his niece's memories to be submitted as evidence, the same could not be said for Gringotts. As the Bank wasn't always able to transcribe everything into a written account in a timely manner, the Goblins had made it so that memory crystals could serve as viable evidence both within the bank and with those who were bound in treaties to it, especially after they developed the crystals to differentiate between first hand unaltered memories and magically modified ones. Lilith had been more than happy to exploit the loophole of the Treaties for the Trial being carried out against Peter Rowle and Heir Travers, as the memories she supplied definitely confirmed that the former was responsible for casting the Cruciatus. While not yet recognized as an Unforgivable, though the legislation for it and the other two Curses to be known as such was circulating in Light family circles, the curse still came with a heavy prison sentence if used against another person. Though Travers had managed to only get a lighter sentence for aiding and abetting the incapacitation of two underage witches, Rowle's solicitor did everything in his power to prevent the DMLE from sentencing the teenager, who had become of age prior to the attack, to Azkaban. At least that's as far as the Trial had managed to go before they called a recess and Lothbrok was allowed to depart. Said Goblin took out a glass bottle of some bright yellow liquid and held it out to Lilith. "Interested in celebrating? In a few days, that would-be rapist wand waver should be finding himself in Azkaban, getting nightly visits from the Dementors."

Lilith shuddered at both the thought of Dementors, as Lillian's third year had been quite dismal with their presence at the school, and the offered substance. "I would rather not. Besides, I doubt I am old enough." The Goblin chuckled. "We both know that isn't true." Lilith shook her head. "Pretty sure a human needs to be over a hundred years old and on their deathbed to drink that." The Goblin laughed. "Well, it would be a fine way to go! To vanquished foes and full coffers!" After he took a shot of his drink, he pulled open a large tome and a quill and lifted up his glasses to his face. "Now then, on to business. Your suggestions on investing in American corporations that work with steel, aluminium, not to mention medications, uniforms and munitions has born quite the large nest egg. Though most of the profits are in bonds, we expect to see quite the financial return on your investments in the coming years and even decades. As expected, Gringotts is happy to buy a few of these off your hands for quite the percentage over your initial investment. Interested?" Lilith sighed, knowing that her use of Lothbrok and the crystals was going to cost more than simply employing him for the task. "Read out the ones that your cousin, the exalted Goblin King, is interested in, and I will see if I am willing to part with them." After hearing a few, Lilith did concede a few pertaining to medical supplies. "You might want to keep those close to your chest. You will see a massive spike in need for them in Asia and the Americas for the next two decades." The Goblin's quill paused for a second. "You mentioned the war would end within a few years." Lilith shrugged. "And the next few wars won't be far behind."

Lothbrok shook his head. "And you humans call us warmongering." Lilith looked at the Goblin and waved her hand. "Well, you are. The only difference is that we claim to be otherwise. As much as humans exalt the virtues of peace, war is unfortunately too profitable for the wealthy to renounce. Though at least in this war, the enemy is more cut and dry. Speaking of the war, how are the Goblins clans in Europe doing? Has Grindelwald acted against them?" Lothbrok growled softly, though it wasn't directed at Lilith. "They are as well as our kin could hope for. Though the Germans have control over much of the European territories, our people have been able to keep Grindelwald's forces on the surface. Those Goblins unable to hide in our now barricaded underground cities retreated to their Bank Branches in Switzerland, though there is quite a lot of infighting there with the Dwarves and the Humans. With the Germans and Italians surrounding the nation, there is little they can do about allowing trade to continue with those bastards." Lilith grumbled. "At least what's left in the von Schwarzwald account is safe there. Just make sure they all at least agree to keep the most detailed accounts on any German investments and transactions as possible, regardless of their species. The fugitives after the war funneled stolen gold and art through Switzerland. If you can track the gold, the Allies can hunt the bastards down when the war is over far more easily. Last thing. The Slytherin accounts?"

The Goblin pulled off his glasses and proceeded to clean them. "As standard Gringotts policy, all dormant accounts with a certain threshold of funds are the purview of the Director, our King Ragnok. If your Slytherin Heir passes the blood test and wishes to claim the Heir Ring, then he is welcomed to open his ancestor's account and access a reduced amount of the funds, until he claims the Lordship and Ring. Once that is done, he will have full access to the Slytherin Vaults." Lilith grew silent, wondering to herself why the Voldemort of Lillian's time didn't do the same. Though she had become Salazar's Heir, she had found that she couldn't access the full account in her time either, as she couldn't actively hold two Family names. The magics that governed the rings wouldn't allow it. She had gone for the Peverell account to avoid drawing unwanted attention to herself, though that failed miserably after those pricks in the Order singled her out at the end for having an unknown Horecrux in her left hand. Sighing, Lilith nodded. "Very well. If all goes as planned then I will bring the Heir of Slytherin to you for verification, before he deals with the Director. Though please help me make sure he doesn't make a fool of himself. He wasn't raised by wandwavers, but he was forced to survive on the streets of the human capital during the Depression." Lothbrok winced. "Ah, then a remedial lesson book in etiquette will be required. Bring him to me first so that I can evaluate his performance and give him some last minute pointers. I will put the charge for the text and all later services on your account, of course." Lilith left her Account Manager soon after, praying that her liquid assets didn't continue to shrink further. The Goblins were efficient and effective partners, but they were still greedy little blighters.

The moment Headmaster Dippet opened the door to his Staff's Meeting Chamber, he knew the meeting would quickly be derailed. His Healer and Deputy Headmaster were glaring daggers at each other, while the rest were simply ignoring the elephant in the room. Though it did surprise him to see Melia Greengrass and Horace Slughorn sitting together and chatting amicably. The incident between their students didn't seem to be as damaging to their relationship as Dippet had initially expected. Then again, that all probably had to do with Lilith von Schwarzwald being the principal force behind the resolution of said incident, with her involvement sparing the two Ravenclaws any further suffering and ensuring that the perpetrators were brought before the Wizengamot to stand trial. While Slytherin's weren't known to argue with each other in earshot of other Houses, they were expected to keep each other in line. Lilith's brazen but effective intervention spared the two Ravenclaws from a far worse fate and proved that the old rules governing Slytherin were still viable, if only just. Taking a seat, Armando waited for Hogsby to silently place his cup of tea in front of him, before taking a sip. His friend seemed quite aware of what was to come, as the elf added just a touch of brandy to his coffee. Feeling a bit more relaxed, Armando looked around at his staff members. "Very well, we can begin the first Faculty meeting of March. Do keep in mind that the Easter Break will be in early April this year."

Theseus spoke up. "Oh good, it means I can get started on testing the students outside of the classroom again as soon as spring sets in fully. On that note, I have submitted a request to the DRMCNC for them to begin the transport of the XXX and XXXX creatures I will need for the practical examinations. They should be calm enough with their new surroundings by the time the OWLs and NEWTs roll around to provide the students ample time to learn how to handle them properly." Horace brightened at that. "I do look forward to the resupply of the less taxing creature ingredients that you will be collecting for the Potions Supply closet. My stores have been getting quite low recently." Armando noticed the wince on Teresa's face, a few seconds before Horace saw it. "My apologies, Madam Prewett, I understand that they are going to a good cause but we do still need the supplies for the upcoming examinations." Armando cleared his throat. "A donation has been made to the Potions budget by an involved party that includes funds allocated to reimburse the lost supplies. You should be able to resupply even your most obscure, and legal, resources." Horace looked thoughtful, probably trying to determine what potion supplies he could acquire. "Of course. I will write up a list soon enough. Though I am pleased to say the practice of making so many advanced potions has been good for my fifth year students and those taking the advanced course. We should see a decent crop of Potioneers in the coming years."

Melia Greengrass, the Head of Ravenclaw House, lowered her cup of tea. "Theseus, do you think you can speak with the Centaurs about clearing out a section of the Forest within a few weeks? I would like to take my fifth years and NEWT students to document and collect samples for Herbology. It should help those less interested in spending their lives in a greenhouse." Theseus took a swig from his flask and was silent for a moment. "We will see. The Centaurs have been a bit restless these last few years. The DRMCNC has been overstepping their bounds a few times when it comes to Centaur territories and the incident from the last Samhain has them overly cautious of the grounds near Hogwarts. If I can get them to agree, the students will be free to scour the Forest under their supervision and mine." Dumbledore sighed, before looking towards the Head of Ravenclaw House. "Is this really necessary, Melia? The Forest is quite dangerous. We have been getting reports of Trolls and Bargests, not to mention whispers of that wolf pack growing ever more dangerous." Theseus grunted. "Trust me, Albus. If there was something abnormally dangerous in those woods, I would hunt it down myself. I am not that out of practice. The Forest is perfectly fine for the well practiced and supervised." Melia nodded. "And regardless, students need to be better prepared for the role of a Herbologist beyond those of us who grow our own supplies. There are also magical plants that can't be raised in a controlled environment currently and are only found in the wilds in proximity to leyline. The Forest is one of our best sources for these rare yet essential ingredients."

Dumbledore frowned before Dippet started checking with the Professors about the coming examinations in late May. Galatea looked over her papers. "Director Crouch wants to know when the Dueling Examinations will take place. He is concerned about the war drawing too many of the experienced Aurors as soon as the Ministry declares war and would like to have an Academy Instructor on site to observe the examinations." Dumbledore leaned back. "First we allow the DMLE to arrest two students and now you want to invite them into the school to scout for soldiers? What happened to the Ministry staying out of Hogwarts matters?" Teresa bristled. "Two students were assaulted, one of which was intended as a victim of rape, while another was subjected to the Torture Curse. The DMLE had to be involved." Dumbledore waved the comment away. "Regardless, it should have been handled by the school. The parents will lose faith in our ability to keep their children safe if they keep hearing about such incidents involving the Aurors at Hogwarts." Armando sighed. "Albus, both students were of age and the girls were not. The matter had to be brought to the DMLE. Any mishandling of the situation could have had drastic consequences to the school's ability to operate as it always has, not to mention that their crimes were serious enough, especially considering how many of those involved were from prominent families. "

He looked towards Professor Greengrass before adding. "Not that the crimes against Miss Warren were any less serious because she happened to be a Muggleborn." Melia nodded after her glare softened. "Of course not. I would hate to be the one to inform Mr Warren that his daughter was being treated as less important than the rest of the students. It's not like I got a letter warning me that if the DMLE and the Wizengamot failed to bring the matter to an adequate conclusion, he would seek the help of Parliament in ensuring that those wizards and witches born of Muggle parents weren't discriminated against by our Ministry." Dumbledore looked at Melia. "Muggles should not be dictating anything to us. The Ministry of Magic is independent from their government." Elphias shrugged from beside the Herbology Instructor. "Right, it's not like the Wizengamot weren't authorized to govern us by the British Monarch of the time and that we are all technically subjects of the Crown. In some ways, the Monarchs have greater powers over us than the rest of the population, at least until the Ministry and the Prime Minister renegotiate the treaties that govern us." Armando cleared his throat. "I believe that is enough political discussion. The Wizengamot has found the young men guilty and neither will return to Hogwarts for what would have been their final months of magical education. Teresa will monitor the health of those assaulted and it's our job to make sure that this doesn't happen again. Understood?" The staff nodded and they addressed the final matters as Dumbledore remained silent. Armando had been warned to keep an eye on his old protege. So far, the warning seemed to have had some merit, more so than what the Headmaster would have liked.

Tom found it quite odd how… silent Valerio Rosier's fall was as the King of Slytherin. There was no formal challenge before the entire house in the Slytherin Common Room or the room set aside for matters of the Court, no grand claim of authority by Walburga or Cygnus Black, nor even a temper tantrum from the clearly angry former king. Yet the power had indeed passed from his hands to the Blacks as was seen by how almost all of the remaining Slytherins went to the Blacks now to gain favor with them and not him. The only holdouts seemed to be those whose families were in formal alliances with the Rosiers, with the exception of Anton Bryce, whose friend Raphael Lestrange had tried to lure the young Halfblood to the Blacks but eventually gave up against his friend's stubborn refusal. Even Abraxas and Theodore, who had kept themselves out of the power struggle, were far more comfortable engaging with the Blacks, with Abraxas giving Walburga far more attention than Tom thought necessary, meaning that the Lord Malfoy had probably messaged his Heir to integrate himself with the Black family, as the Rosiers' fall from grace hadn't been limited to just the school. Of course, seeing Abraxas being flustered by Alphard's advances before his inevitable retreat was a satisfying change of pace for Tom.

Marcus Rosier, the current Head of House Rosier, had been removed from his position as Speaker for the Dark after the Trials of Rowle and Travers were concluded. The former's sentencing and imprisonment were mostly due to how the recorded memories of Cassandra Moon and Lilith von Schwarzwald had all but destroyed any attempts to paint the young Rowle as a teen who allowed his interests in a girl who spurned him get out of hand, with his follow up use of the Cruciatus Curse essentially destroying any possible claims of coercion. That he was capable of using the curse at the school after having been found attempting to rape a girl galvanized the Light and Neutral families, with several of the Dark joining them, most notably the Head of House Black. While Myrtle wasn't from a prominent Magical family, Cassandra Moon was and her involvement had probably made many prominent families anxious regarding their own children's security at the school. Wishing to prevent any similar attacks on the children, Peter Rowle was made an example of and had his wand snapped before he was shipped off to Azkaban, while Travers would simply be expelled from Hogwarts, his family forced to pay a fine as he was to spend a shorter time at Azkaban, as a warning of what may come later should he continue to break the laws. Rosier's inability to prevent this fate destroyed his alliance with the Rowles and many others soon turned their backs on him. Whispers from the older students were now spreading throughout the school; the Ministry would declare war on Grindelwald and his forces soon enough.

As Tom sat in the Slytherin Common Room, a book on advanced charm spells open in his hands, he heard the door open and watched as Lilith entered from outside. The Common Room's mood shifted almost instantly as several students looked at the redhead warily. Lilith had essentially broken several of the unwritten rules of Slytherin House. Disagreements were to be kept in house, the students had to show a united front at all times and any conflicts had to be resolved either with the mediation of the King or Queen or via duels. Yet, the female students of Slytherin supported Lilith's decision to act against the boys of her House without many detractors, with the exception of Druella Rosier silent contemplation, since she had just watched her cousin lose his political influence and was in no position to claim it for herself. Even Walburga and Lucretia seemed to agree in their support for her, which was a rare sight for the often bickering cousins. Tom watched as Lucretia went up to Lilith and the two chatted quietly before they both sat down at one of the tables, the latter passing a piece of parchment to her. As the two seemingly settled into a discussion on Lucretia's Rune assignment, the Common Room's atmosphere settled down and everyone returned to their own assignments. Well, almost everyone. Those who still held some allegiance to Rosier were giving Lilith some unpleasant looks, which seemed to fuel a cold rage within Tom's chest.

Tom looked down at his book and found his attention wandering as the feeling lingered. It felt akin to the few times he managed to acquire some nice clothes or toys at the orphanage. He knew that possessing these objects demonstrated his superiority to the other orphans, which meant many of them would stop at nothing to either obtain his hard won possessions, or destroy them. He had lost many of his favorite toys, many of them being model cars, trains and planes made of wood or a few rare ones made of metal. It was only after he had better control of his magic that he felt secure enough that no one would try it again, with Tom taking revenge on a few kids by taking their toys as well. After starting classes at Hogwarts, however, that part of his nature had gone dormant and Tom could see why. Unlike with Muggles, the Magical population could pretty much obtain anything it wanted without much effort. Conjuration made the whole point of keeping items for specific purposes worthless. Not to say that the Magicals didn't have toys of their own, as he had seen several stores advertising enchanted merchandise for kids to play with, but for Tom, none of these felt as appealing to him. They could all be easily replaced. Which was why he found the sudden possessiveness he felt around Lilith so odd.

Thinking back, he could remember the sensation starting after he had spent Halloween night with her. The feeling had been building steadily until after the Yuletide Break, when it had built up immensely. After Alphard's approach and cryptic discussion, Tom had taken more time to look after Lilith from afar, as he knew that Rosier was likely to retaliate. When he had spied on Rosier attacking Moaning Myrtle and Cassandra Moon, he had managed to find a Ravenclaw first year and sent him to Lilith, using a Confundus Charm to conceal his identity. He had Disillusioned himself as best as he could and followed after Rosier, certain that Lilith would go after her friends. Rosier, as expected, returned to the Great Hall, creating a less than perfect alibi but one that would hold up under scrutiny, unless Tom himself came forward, though the latter felt it wasn't needed as Valerio was never charged with anything. Still, his plan had worked and Lilith's friends were recovering, without exposing his own part in the events. Well, at least not widely. He hadn't anticipated that Lilith had been able to guess as to the part he had played in the rescue of her friends or that she would thank him for it. The moment those words of her registered had made his skin grow warm. It was after that moment Tom had made up his mind. Closing the book in his hands, Tom looked towards Lilith, his mind going over his plans for making her his ally. She was a gamble, of course, one that was surprisingly spontaneous and chaotic, but one he was certain was well worth the risk. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Lilith pulled her messy curls back and tied them into a ponytail before closing her eyes and sinking into one of the couches of the chamber that would one day be the Divination's classroom under Trelawney. Though if Lilith was honest with herself, that was one future occurrence she had no problem interfering with. Unlike Luna and Cassandra, that Witch had no control over her gift nor was she privy to what her predictions were, making her less of a Seer and more of a pawn of those around her. Lillian had only bothered to read the textbook on Divination to better understand Luna, and had only suffered through a single year of study with the bespeckled instructor, before it became clear that her understanding of true Divination and Sight were pale imitations of the real burden that her dear friend lived with every day of her life. Babbling had been kind enough to let her take Runes throughout her third year as a side course while Lillian studied Divination, before she dropped the course in favor of Runes for her fourth year, with Babbling's assistance preventing her from having to take the class with the third year students. What she discovered about the most difficult to justify class at Hogwarts was that the class and position should be exclusive to those who possess the sight, like Cassandra and her future granddaughter, as Trewlaney's poor instruction did nothing for her dear friend's control of the gift.

Of course, that didn't mean that trained Seers were any better at divining the future accurately, at least not all of the time. Lilith had been extremely cross with Cassandra when her friend had admitted to seeing fragments of the interaction that would become the attack on her and Myrtle in her visions. Because of both Lilith's and Cassandra's interactions with the dark-haired girl, Myrtle had been drawn into the event, despite Cassandra's attempts to keep her out of it and would surely have endured a far worse fate had Lilith not arrived in time. Raising her left hand up and staring at the four pointed star shaped scar, Lilith sighed, before pulling her glove over it again. Cassandra did apologize to Lilith about the whole thing, admitting that while her gift was usually more accurate, the ability to see clearly the things that would happen in the next few years had been rendered mute. Apparently, Cassandra believed that Lilith's presence was acting as a catalyst that kept disrupting the events within Hogwarts to the point that Cassandra could barely see events a few days in advance. Her initial vision of the attack had been of her getting dragged away on her own, being threatened and potentially tortured with the Cruciatus curse, before Lilith would have intervened. Myrtle's presence had made the Pureblood boys more brazen with their intentions, as they were certain that even with Cassandra as a witness, their families would be able to shield them. Lilith was glad that her intervention was fast enough to keep Myrtle safe, even if the experience itself was still going to leave some traumatic memories, all thanks to Tom looking out for her friends.

Interestingly enough, Cassandra had caught glimpses of Tom in both visions, which made Lilith feel warm inside. As she placed her hand over her heart, Lilith closed her eyes and focused on the moment. The training that the von Schwarzwald family put Lilith through was something the personality of Lillian had some trouble understanding. In some cases, the actions bordered on mistreatment and even abuse, with Lilith's acceptance of said treatment being difficult to stomach. Yet, Lillian couldn't deny the results of said training, as her enhanced senses detected the slow movement of several snakes approaching her from the floor, all of them doing their best to be quiet. Lilith had planned to allow the charade to go unimpeded and to let Tom do whatever it was that he was planning, but if it was a test of some sort, she decided that being truthful was more important than getting caught in a lie by the paranoid boy, as allowing him to go through with his actions knowing that it was ultimately meaningless would likely only damage their relationship. If Tom could spot her change in behaviour after killing Morfin, Lilith didn't want to take any chances that she could keep the truth from her face, choosing to only hide the fact that she was technically a Parselmouth, though unlike Tom it had nothing to do with a family lineage and everything to do with some bleedthrough from Lillian's essence. At least that's how Alexander explained it. "Herr Riddle, I have no problem letting the snakes move about the chamber freely but I must inform you that I am aware that they are there."

A far more advanced Disillusionment spell than the one Lilith had spotted almost a month back in February dropped as the figure of Tom moved forward, showing a somewhat frustrated expression. Lilith smiled at him as she sat up, placing her feet on the ground. "Guten abend, Herr Riddle." Tom pinched the bridge of his nose, before Lilith heard him whisper in Parseltongue. ~"Wrap yourselves around her feet and be prepared to bite."~ Lilith tensed for a second as she watched two black mambas wrapping around her legs. She stared at Tom, not having to hide her irritation. "Riddle." Tom moved closer to her and his piercing blue eyes stared back at her, the friendly façade that he normally kept on his face missing. The two remained that way, neither daring to move an inch as Lilith's magic kept building up inside of her. Eventually Tom knelt down and spoke Parseltongue clear enough for her to hear, calling the snakes to him, vanishing one with his wand as the other wrapped itself around his arm. "Do you know what this talent is called?" Lilith nodded, lowering her build up of magic. "You're a Parselmouth, yes? A rare enough talent out here in Britain." Tom sat down on the opposite sofa, his mood becoming more relaxed at her lack of concern.

Rubbing the snake's black scales affectionately, Tom looked at Lilith. "I have been able to do this since I was a little boy, left behind at an Orphanage in London after my mother died giving birth to me. The snakes were my first true companions, as they couldn't betray me as the other kids could. When I arrived here, at Hogwarts, I discovered that the talent was quite unique, tracing back to two families, both of which are extinct. The Serpens and the Slytherins. I have reason to believe I am descended from one or both of them, but… my attempts to find any trace of Slytherin's true legacy in the castle has been hampered. I was hoping to test you, to see if you weren't concerned about a talent many frown upon and if you were capable of trusting me not to harm you. Unfortunately, my plan didn't quite go as I had hoped, as you somehow were aware of my presence." Lilith closed her eyes and rubbed them. "Right. My apologies but, like I said, I didn't like the idea of leading you on in believing that I was oblivious to the sankes' presence if I wasn't. I was certain you would not have responded well to my having concealed my awareness and egged you on to continue as if everything was going according to plan." Tom did blush a little as he took a deep breath, the snake comfortably licking his fingers in a show of comfort. "I… Thank you. For being considerate to me while I clearly wasn't to you."

Lilith sighed but leaned back into the couch, her hands resting on her lap. "I take it you want my aid in helping you discover the truth behind your parentage? And that you have chosen me as possibly the only Slytherin not likely to try and make use of you and your influence if you do happen to be the Heir of a Hogwarts Founder?" Tom nodded. "I had considered possibly allying myself with a strong upper year, in the hopes that they could aid me in gaining a proper foothold in the House if my legacy proved true." Tom looked somewhat bashful. "I had considered Rosier, actually, prior to the whole situation with his family." Lilith clamped her mouth shut and thought about what that would have meant for the future Lillian experienced. It would certainly explain a few things if the Tom she met in the Diary had been adapting himself to be more suitable for the Blood Purist and Anti-Muggle crowd that Rosier favored. That he would uncover the truth of his lineage in the interim between the fourth and fifth year, especially after making Prefect, would fit in well enough. Though Lilith doubted Tom would have been made King of Slytherin, Rosier's influence would have left Tom as the likely successor in his sixth year. Right after the creation of what Alexander believed was Tom's first Horcrux.

Looking over him now, Lilith could still see the man he could have become, but now… there was the chance to make sure that never happened. That he could be something more. "First of all, your talent is a gift. Never doubt that. While certain regions of the world like the Indian Subcontinent enjoy a heavy concentration of Parselmouths, Europe does not. A shame really." Lilith stood up and walked around the coffee table, before sitting by Tom's side. After gesturing at the snake and getting his approving nod, she reached out and caressed the pleased serpent. "Had you asked me directly, I would have happily said that you had my aid in this matter. Though your upbringing does explain your decision to test me. I will be quite clear to you, Riddle. I have plans that involve me avenging my family. That is my main priority outside of getting ICW accreditation. However, I am not above aiding a friend in the time it takes me to prepare for my return to Austria." Lilith looked up from the snake into those blue eyes. He really did resemble his grandfather quite well. Blushing slightly at the less than expected thought about what his lips would taste like, Lilith pushing that odd thought away, and carried on. "I will assist you, Tom Riddle, in discovering your heritage, in exchange for your assistance in the next few years due to a complication of mine. Though I will be clear. I am not some tool for you to use and discard. If you ever endanger my duty to my family, I will fight back. Understand? This is an offer of partnership, nothing more and nothing less."

Tom blinked at her, caught off guard by her tone and choice of words. He had hoped that Lilith would have agreed to his request but after the debacle and her irritation, he was certain she would have asked for something in return. The fact that she was asking for a partnership surprised him though. He had considered it as a possibility and, if he was honest with himself, he had desired it over anything else. Her threat against him was perfectly justified as if he had ordered the snakes to strike her, her plans for revenge would have ended here. He thought about what those plans would mean to him. He had already dismissed working with Grindelwald as the man was drawing too much negative publicity to himself and Rosier had lost the value that Tom had seen in him in the previous year. The Rosiers were now a pariah of the Wizengamot, so that was no real loss to him. That meant that the only thing he was sacrificing by allying himself with Lilith was some level of control if this was to be a proper partnership. "You say you wish to be partners. Would that include placing my own life in danger to fulfill your revenge?" Lilith shook her head. "My revenge against Grindelwald and his schwine is mine alone. If any of that endangers your life then you are free to act separately from me, as it would be your choice. You have a responsibility to yourself and your family, just as I do."

Lilith looked down and reached out, taking Tom's free hand into her own. It felt quite warm. She looked back at him. "As someone who lost my family, I can understand the need to find a place to belong. I will help you find your place. All I ask is that you think carefully on what you find. You say that you are an orphan? Finding a legacy could mean discovering a less than pleasant history. Just remember that you aren't tethered to it. You are free to shape the way that your family's legacy will influence your life." Lilith gave him a bitter smile. "Not all of us are as lucky. My duty to the von Schwarzwald family requires me to seek vengeance. So be careful with what you find, lest your freedom be lost. Remember that. So, what do you say? Partners?" Tom searched her eyes, seeing nothing amiss. For the first time in a long time he smiled as he squeezed her hand in a handshake. "Partners." Lilith shook his hand and looked thoughtful. She smiled. "And as our first thing as partners, would you be willing to spend the day with me on the 20th with me? Of course, you don't necessarily have to join me but I would like it if you could be by my side on the Equinox. We can discuss the details of what we can do for each other and how we go on from here." Tom thought about it and found nothing wrong about the request. In fact, he liked the idea of spending a day with her. "Sure."

Tom could honestly say that he enjoyed his time with Lilith on the 20th. Unlike most of the other students, Lilith was far more interested in the most obscure facts about magic. The few moments that weren't dedicated to class where they could step aside and discuss matters proved to him that he had perhaps made the best possible choice. When he asked Lilith about the Dark Arts, he had watched as she took her time to answer him. "The Dark Arts are, unfortunately, defined differently by many people. The most arrogant and idealistic of the Light view the Dark Arts as the corruption and disruption of nature through magical means and that those who practice them are nothing more than fools who do not understand how their actions destroy the world around them. There are those in the Dark faction that view the Dark Arts… as the ultimate release. The mastery of the Dark Arts as the means of freeing oneself from everything that nature intended to bind the human race into subservience; a physical body that withers and dies, a social system that restricts a being into adhering to seemingly arbitrary rules. They wield that Dark Arts as an act of rebellion, no better than a child using a loaded gun while on a tantrum about his parents denying him a toy."

Lilith had sat on the edge of one of the upper balconies overlooking the vast forest that stretched out at the side of the castle, looking towards Tom briefly. She rubbed a ring on her hand, which Tom suspected was the one that denoted her position as Head of House. "Those who live at the fringes of the world, of the very society that condemns the Dark Arts, see them as something else. My family has wielded them for millennia, yet we have not sought to conquer the world nor eradicate the Light. The Dark Arts is but a fraction of the whole of Magic, a part of the tapestry of the world, which needs every aspect of magic to function. A forest with no predators grows wild with the population of foragers skyrocketing. The rivers lose their stability as the grassless banks are weathered away, the ground itself left barren of nutrients and the trees grow withered. In time, a fire will consume the forest, burning it all to the ground. In the absence of this rampant ecosystem, the fields regrow, into a new environment, but much of what once was is lost. And so the cycle is repeated for all eternity; life, death and renewal. The true Masters of the Dark Arts understands that their magic isn't a toy to be used or an aberration of the natural order, but the violent aspects of the world that acts as the limiter on life. The fire for the trees, the predators for the foragers… death to abarent life."

Frowning as he tried to understand her explanation, Tom rubbed his chin. "Would that not mean that Grindelwald is acting as the Dark believe? Culling the lives of the weak and vulnerable in order to open the path to a new balance?" Lilith had looked at Tom and gave him a soft smile. "To some, ja, that is true. Perspective is, after all, the ultimate decider of morality. Grindelwald's actions can, at times, be seen to be those of a proper Dark Lord." Lilith's smile, however, turned into a serious look. "Except that he misunderstands the dangers of what he has unleashed." Lilith handed Tom a photo and he felt his heart run cold. The picture showed women and children standing before the corpses of men as officers of the German Army aimed rifles at them. While the photos had been distributed to the Wizengamot, the Daily Prophet had opted not to publish them, which left Lilith wondering whose side the owners were on. "Grindelwald's machinations have unleashed a violence that cares not for life nor renewal. There is no honor, no respect and no understanding. It is mindless violence repeated all across the Continent. The Dark is meant to be an instrument that holds and restores balance, yet this is a war that threatens to leave the world ravaged of all life, with the survivors reduced to nothing more than mindless beasts driven by base instincts, if there are any survivors at all." Lilith stared into Tom's eyes. "That's what happens when the Dark Arts are warped and used incorrectly. One loses touch with their true purpose and becomes the very thing they claim to despise. Grindelwald called muggles the scourge of the Earth. Now he is no better than any of them."

Lilith looked out over the trees. "An ecosystem, even one as artificial as a city, needs order as much as chaos, with life and death needing to occur simultaneously, but in a way that ensures growth and continuation, not extinction. The Dark Arts are meant to ensure that continuation, by fighting back against the true horrors of the world, without losing oneself to them." Lilith gestured at the forests. "According to Professor Ross, the only wild predators in the Forest here are barghests, wolves and centaurs. A delicate balance is maintained between them and the birds, deer, rabbits and the myriad of insects and other creatures. Add one more predator and you risk turning a somewhat safe forest into a deadly one. The Schwarzwald has dozens of dangerous beasts, all man eaters that could breed and spread across the land, leaving the villages baren of life. My family once tended the forest, keeping it safe for all its inhabitants, before we left for the Bregenzerwald. Yet the forest we left behind was still guarded by those who understood the dangers hiding deep in the darkest corners." Tom thought for a second and realized something. "Your family acted as the balance that kept the forests safer for both sides." As Lilith nodded, Tom asked the question that seemed relevant to him. "Then why not kill all the Dark Creatures and be rid of the danger?" Lilith chuckled and looked him in the eyes. "Because we are not gods. We do not decide what deserves to exist and what doesn't. These creatures are dangerous but they live. They care for their young as we do, they raise them to hunt and to grow, to pass on their legacy. They are a part of this world and therefore must be respected. Only when the creatures become aberrant, disruptive of the natural order, are they designated for death."

Lilith pulled out her pocket watch and opened it, revealing a photo on the opposite side. Tom looked at the image and saw what she was pointing at. A little girl holding a small cub as the older couples talked away, the youngest woman being reassured by the others. "That is a Schattenwolf cub. They are similar to your country's Barghest but are capable of operating in packs. They once inhabited many regions of the European Continent, laying waste to villages that grew too complacent. The need for the Night Watchers, for which Vampires were the most often chosen as the guards, was because of them. In time, they were hunted down and driven close to extinction. My family, however, refused to end them and sought another path. We started to care for them, treat them as equals. Whenever they approached villages, the wards would keep them out and we always imported deer to the forest to stabilize the populations. In time, they became the new protectors, keeping Irklings and other far more dangerous creatures contained deeper within the Forest. They became more than magical creatures that could vanish in the night and rip your throat out in the blink of an eye." Tom nodded softly. "They served a purpose in keeping the balance." Lilith smiled at him. "Exactly. The Dark Creatures of the world crave nothing but destruction, but that doesn't have to be the fate of them and the practitioners of the Dark Arts. We can keep our humanity intact, but only if we understand the worst of our nature and control it."

As the day turned to night, Lilith's words resonated deep within Tom. While he remained interested in studying the Dark Arts and Lilith encouraged him to do so, her warning of control and restraint made all the more sense. It also explained her approach to Rosier. Where others would have humiliated him to take his place, she merely hoped to contain him, her own actions demonstrating just how different her approach was, one that definitely seemed more efficient in gaining support and respect from the younger children and from the students of the other houses. Eventually the pair approached the Hospital Wing and Lilith turned to him. "I do still feel sorry for upending your test of me the other day. So I hope this makes up for it." As they stepped inside, Madam Prewett and her apprentice came up to her as Tom looked at Lilith in confusion. They both looked at Tom but at Lilith's insistence, they proceeded to check her over and give her a potion. As the moments passed Tom watched as arcs of light traveled across her body before eventually Lilith was doubled over fighting against the pain. Madam Prewett cursed. "Damn it. The potion doesn't seem any better than the last. Poppy, get the Dreamless Sleep potion ready. She's going to need her sleep." For the next few hours before Curfew, Tom watched as Lilith struggled with whatever it was that was eating away at her. He knew that eventually she would tell him more as to what he had witnessed in the infirmary that evening.

What he did know was the reason that Lilith had asked him to be with her today. She wanted him to see her at her most vulnerable. Tom had revealed a secret that Lilith could use against him. Now… now he had a secret of hers too. Tom smiled softly as he turned over on his bed, looking at the record player sitting on his bedside table. That was just like her. He had seen it when she interacted with the Ravenclaw girls. He had watched as the girls consoled her in a moment of weakness, before the next morning she arrived with some confection that the three enjoyed together. A gift for a gift, a secret for a secret. Balance maintained in a way that ensured coexistence, not subservience or control over others. As Tom closed his eyes, odd images began to appear before his eyes as his thoughts lost themselves into unconsciousness. Images of an old man standing before him defiantly with a dark haired boy at his side, a table full of people who looked upon him with fear and reverence… and the sight of a black haired Slytherin girl staring at him defiantly, beautiful green eyes making his heart ache. He remembered watching that face turning into a familiar looking smile, before the girl bowed and walked away, returning to the Great Hall. Tom wondered for a second who it was that was feeling their heart beating wildly; this vision of another life… or his own.