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The Guile and Devotion of a Black Heir	By : StarLightMassacre Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 104291 -:- Recommendations : 9 -:- Currently Reading : 26
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter; all rights go to J. K. Rowling. I make no money for this piece of fictional writing and never will.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
A/N: For Staci, Deinara, Kali, Kalesha and the multitude of March babies that have inundated me with birthday requests, happy birthday to all of you lovelies!

Last Time

He was smart enough to see that if you controlled someone to the point of giving them no freewill at all, then of course they would fight and rankle against such tight confines, trying to scrape a better life for themselves and their family only to be knocked down again and again. He thought to Remus, how he couldn’t hold down a job because of what he was, how he was so stressed and aged because of his poor living situation, how he could barely clothe or feed himself. His jaw clenched. He would put an end to it and he would rewrite all of these laws for the betterment of the magical creatures who merely wanted the freedom to live their lives without fear. He would work tirelessly to achieve this, he swore it.

Chapter Nineteen – Easter Inspirations

Harry woke up on Sunday the thirtieth of March, four days after the Wizengamot meeting, with a grimace at the state he found himself in. He must have sweated out his bodyweight last night, because he was near enough dripping wet.
Peeling himself from his sheets, he gave a disgusted ‘ick’ to himself before heading straight into his en suite to run a much needed bath.
He went back into his bedroom and picked out an outfit for himself, laying it out on his armchair ready, before he went back into the bathroom to sit his arse in the bath, cleaning himself off in the warm water. He must have had a bad night to have woken up in such a state, but today was Easter and he was very much looking forward to the cascade of chocolate that was coming his way after breakfast, so he didn’t let the bad night get him down too much, he was going to get chocolate later after all and that would make up for almost anything.
That thought got him moving a little quicker and he finished up and got out, drying himself off and going to get dressed. He stripped his still slightly damp bedding once he was dressed and he left it on the floor for Pimsey to sort out, she would wash the bedding and then put it back on his bed for him, as per his usual morning routine now. He almost literally ran into Draco as soon as he left his room and the both of them almost jumped in the air in fright.

“Dear Merlin, calm down, Potter!” Draco chastised him.

“Sorry, I’m excited. I get a shit ton of chocolate today, I can’t help it.”

Draco shook his head as they went down to the dining room together. As per usual, they were the last to arrive, Draco because he liked making sure that he was absolutely perfect and pristine every morning, Harry because he needed to take an extra-long bath to scrub all the stale sweat from his body every morning.

“Good morning, boys.” Narcissa greeted as they walked into the dining room.

“Morning, Mother.” They both echoed.

Draco went to sit in his usual seat, Harry went to sit next to Rabastan, kissing him in greeting.

“Morning, love.” Harry said with a smile.

“How are you feeling?” Rabastan asked him, even as he began making Harry a cup of tea, just how he liked it.

“I feel alright today, or at least I do for now.”

Rabastan smiled so happily as he handed over the cup and gave him a soft kiss to the cheek. Harry grinned, pleased with the way that things were progressing between them. Marcus had come for another lesson a few days ago and Harry could see the restraint that passed over Rabastan’s face, the tension in his body, as he left the room to give him and Marcus some privacy. Harry had rewarded him heavily with praise and happiness and he had fed Rabastan small berries dipped in natural yoghurt by hand to show his appreciation at the show of trust.
Rabastan had very much liked his reward and it acted as one hell of an incentive for the next time, this was especially good as Marcus was coming for another lesson tomorrow. Harry was fervently hoping that Rabastan could keep up this new considerate behaviour. It made Harry feel able to work on his tutoring and then come back to Rabastan and tell him about it, which was an amazing feeling, to be able to share his lessons and his thoughts with his Fiancé.
Harry drank his tea, nibbled on some toast, ate a banana and then he swallowed the worst of his potions, the bone strengthening potion that gave him a killer headache. The headache kicked in with a painful throb only a minute or so after he’d swallowed it, but Rabastan took his hand and helped him to his feet. He was led to the front parlour and in a new habit that Harry absolutely loved, he was lain down on the settee with his head in Rabastan’s lap and he had his hair stroked and his scalp massaged by strong, sure fingers that only wavered slightly every now and then. But Rabastan was now much more confident and it showed by his willingness to have both hands on Harry’s head when a powerful cramp could have squashed it like a watermelon. Harry couldn’t remember the last time that Rabastan had actually had any sort of cramp though and it was so utterly blissful to have those fingers scratching at his scalp that he didn’t worry about it. He would definitely miss this when he had to go back to Hogwarts.

“Oh that feels so good.” He groaned as Rabastan’s nails gently scratched against his scalp, moving down to the back of his neck which made him shiver in pleasure.

“Did you write out any more of that change of law proposal that you want me to look over?” Rabastan asked him.

“No, I did go back over the part that you already reviewed and took your notes into consideration. I’ve re-written it again and if you’d like, you could go over it again to see what you make of it now.”

“Of course I will. I love doing this project with you.” Rabastan insisted as he continued massaging Harry’s head and neck.

“I’ve almost finished the next part to the reform too, once I’ve hashed out all of the details, I’ll add it in a coherent manner to the proposal and have you look it over again.”

“It sounds like you’re doing really well with it, you only thought of changing these laws a few days ago.” Rabastan said, rather impressed with Harry’s level of passion and his dedication.

Harry cracked open his eyes and looked up at his Fiancé. “I just feel really strongly about this.” He said. “I can always focus better on something when I feel strongly about it, that’s why I’m so good at Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“You are very intelligent, Harry.” Rabastan told him seriously. “You never give yourself enough standing in such things, but you are incredibly quick witted and a fast learner.”

“Hermione was always much smarter than I was.” Harry insisted.

“There you go again, putting yourself down or comparing yourself to others. You said that that Mud…Muggleborn was only book smart anyway. Everything she knows is out of a book, but if you put her on the spot, I bet she wouldn’t have a bloody clue until she’d looked for the answer in a book first. Not like you.”

Harry closed his eyes again, after glaring up at Rabastan at the first hint of the word Mudblood. He sighed.

“I suppose not. She won’t be told either. If you suggest an alternative to anything that she’s read in a book then she won’t even consider it. She doesn’t seem to grasp that sometimes there can be more than one way to do something right or even that a book might sometimes have misinformation or a newer book could have an updated explanation that expands on a certain theory.”

“Exactly! She’s book smart, whereas you’re just smart, period. You understand that not everything you read is correct, you can think on your feet and we’ve yet to meet anyone who can hold themselves in a debate against you.”

Harry smiled. “I almost met my match at that meeting, that stupid woman.”

“The one who started beseeching the Wizengamot about the poor, defenceless children?” Rabastan chuckled.

“Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous in your life?”

“Not recently.” Rabastan answered, continuing with Harry’s head, neck and shoulder massage.

They both fell silent. Harry was enjoying the head massage, easing away the headache that he had thanks to the after effects of his potions.

“Do you feel better?” Rabastan asked him.

Harry nodded. “Much. Thank you.”

A kiss to his head and Harry opened his eyes again and smiled up into those dark blue eyes.

“I bought you something for Easter, though I’ve been worried that you won’t like it.”

“Is it chocolate related?” Harry asked.

“Yes, but…”

“Then there is absolutely no way that I won’t like it.” Harry grinned. “Where’s my chocolate?”

“Are you feeling well enough?”

“For chocolate? Are you mad? Of course I’m well enough.” He laughed, sitting himself up and snuggling into Rabastan before giving him a few playful pushes. “Go on! Go get my chocolate!”

Rabastan laughed with him. He stood after giving him another kiss and Harry got himself comfortable. He was going to binge on chocolate with Rabastan until at least lunch time. He was going to need tea.

“Pimsey.” He called out gently.

The little house-elf popped into the room and curtseyed. “What can Pimsey be doing for young Master Harry?” She asked.

“Can I get some tea and two cups please, Pimsey?” He asked with a smile.

She smiled back at him, her bat like ears pricking up in happiness and she squeaked happily before popping away and coming back in record time with a tray in her hands with a teapot, complete with tea cosy, two china cups, sugar and milk.

“Thank you, Pimsey, this is great.” Harry insisted.

Squealing again, Pimsey curtseyed and left the room. Harry busied himself with making tea for himself and Rabastan until Rabastan actually came back. When he did come back, he was levitating a collection of boxed eggs behind him. Harry had to laugh, especially as he remembered his talk with Lucius about Rabastan hovering over the eggs like a mother hen.

“Talk about going overboard, Rabastan!” He giggled.

“I didn’t know which one you’d like the best, so I got a couple, then I was worried that you wouldn’t like either of them, so I…I just got more.” Rabastan said a little uncomfortably. “It never came up in conversation what sort of chocolate you preferred and as it got closer to Easter, it would have seemed too obvious to just ask you outright and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You should have just asked me. We’re still learning about one another, I wouldn’t have cared. Although, I probably would have lamented the loss of all of these.” He laughed as he picked up the first egg that had been lined up on the table and looked at it. It was a plain milk chocolate and he opened the box, carefully took out the large egg and he gave it a hard, forceful downward slam into the coffee table so that it easily broke into two halves.

“Why did you do that?!” Rabastan asked him in shock.

“So I can eat it!” Harry replied as he took one of the halves and broke a decent sized fistful off of it.

“So you smash it against a table?” Rabastan demanded.

“You’re going to tell me that there’s a charm for that, aren’t you?” He asked with a grin.

“There’s a charm for that, Harry.” Rabastan said, demonstrating by waving his wand and severing a small portion of the chocolate from the other half of the egg.

“I like my way better.” Harry grinned as he ate the snapped pieces of chocolate.

Rabastan just smiled at him. “They’re your eggs, whatever you want to do with them is fine.”

“I’m sharing them…only with you though!” Harry added quickly. “If Rodolphus wants any he can get his own!”

Rabastan smiled and ate the small piece he had severed off. He picked up the tea that Harry had poured for him. Rabastan preferred tea leaves, not tea bags like Harry, so it was more difficult to get Rabastan’s preferred taste right.

“Did I do it right?” He asked softly, seeking reassurance that he was learning about his Fiancé’s likes and preferences.

“You did.” Rabastan told him, sitting back and tugging Harry to rest against him. Harry went willingly, with his chocolate and tea, and he snuggled in happily. “Do you prefer milk or dark chocolate, Harry?”

“I like them both.” Harry chuckled. “If I want a massive sugar hit, I’ll go for milk chocolate, maybe one of Honeydukes’ massive buckets of chocolate frogs, though I do share those, but if I just want a snack or something to nibble on, then I’ll go for dark chocolate. I’ll eat that while I’m reading, which seems to be all the time now. I’ve grown to love dark chocolate and orange, though. That is definitely my current favourite combination.” He said, waiting to see what Rabastan would do. His Fiancé did not disappoint him as he surged forward and almost grappled with one of the boxes, presenting him with a very sophisticated, elegantly decorated chocolate orange egg. It even had candied orange slices sunken into the front of it.

“I got you a dark chocolate and orange egg!” Rabastan said excitedly.

Harry gasped, not entirely falsely either as the egg was a lot more lavish and beautiful than he’d been expecting, but he took it and looked at it in wonder.

“How did you know?” He asked. “It’s perfect! See, you did know which egg I’d like the most!”

Rabastan smiled and watched as Harry took the egg out of the box and then slammed it into the coffee table, breaking it in half. If Lucius, or even worse Narcissa, had caught him, Rabastan knew that Harry would have been in for a punishment, but he didn’t care personally as long as his love was happy and he seemed to be absolutely overjoyed with his eggs, and with slamming them all into the coffee table like a barbaric Muggle. Harry snapped a chunk off of the broken half of the egg and he jammed it into his mouth, moaning at the taste. The entire egg was infused with orange zest and likely orange oil too, it was amazing.

“Is that one your favourite?”

“For the moment. I’ll have to try them all to be sure though.” Harry said with a cheeky grin.

Rabastan chuckled and cuddled him back into his body, this time half of the orange egg came with them as Harry kept it with him and snapped bits off to nibble on as he drank his tea. He had no worries that the egg would melt in his hand as all of the eggs, having been made by a magical chocolatier, were all charmed to never melt, and thus destroy the creation or change its taste. He could hold it all day and nothing would happen, though he’d been told that the charm would not stand up to very high heat, such as being put in an oven, a microwave, or in boiling water.

“Did you need to do any more reading today?” Rabastan asked him.

“No, I was going to read that Arithmancy book to you and have you explain to me what the fuck it means because I have no clue.” Harry laughed.

Rabastan snorted. “Okay, we can do that once we’ve drunk our tea. Don’t fill up on chocolate though, Harry, you need to get some lunch down you.”

Harry nodded, he understood that his rather fragile health needed to be built up not only with the potions, but with good food and nutrition too. He was getting better, he was actually feeling stronger too and when Lucius had sat him down, with Rabastan sat beside him for support, and told him that the Healer had said that his recovery was going very well and that he might be able to cut back on the potions earlier than expected, that he would be off of them earlier than expected, well it had almost made him cry from sheer joy and relief. He was now more determined than ever to see this through, to get healthy and well and off of these damn potions and ensure that he never had to take them ever again. Chocolate wouldn’t help him recover faster, but a good lunch would, he understood that, so he curbed his desire to eat as much chocolate as he could and instead he stopped eating an hour before lunch would be served to leave room enough to eat a good, nutritious lunch that would help him to recover faster. He could always go back to his chocolate afterwards, as long as he ate his dinner too, it wouldn’t matter or even be mentioned. He was determined to get healthy, but he was also determined to eat as much of the chocolate as he could before he went back to Hogwarts, where he would be thrown head first into the deep end with endless homework and exam revision. After all, the exams were in the last week of May, in a little over a month and these exams would dictate if he could carry on his final year of his chosen NEWTs and then finally graduate. He would need to focus his all upon them when they did finally roll around and there would be no room for distraction or procrastination. He would pass all of his exams and make his family proud of him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Bill Weasley knew that something was wrong as soon as he arrived for his shift at the bank. He had immediately been called to the office of the goblin in charge of the Cursebreakers and told brusquely to take a seat while he waited. He had been sat here for ten minutes now, just left on his own with no clue what was going on.
When his manager had eventually turned up, he looked angry and Bill wondered if this was because he’d missed those few hours last week. He had explained to the deputy manager at the time why he’d been late, but this was the first that he was seeing of his actual manager since then. He refused to believe that it had anything to do with the Wizengamot meeting. Charlie had warned him that there might be repercussions for that, even his Father had mentioned that it might tick off the goblins, but Bill didn’t want to believe it.

“Mister Weasley, you have been called here today to discuss your conduct as a representative of this bank.” His manager, Gornuk, told him.

“I don’t understand.”

“You have taken a seat in the Wizengamot. As an employee of this bank, you are a legal representative for Gringotts while in these meetings. We have found you to be lacking as a representative and your conduct to be disgraceful.”

“I was only doing as I saw best.” Bill said quietly.

“Regardless of what you believe is for the best, our laws are to be fully upheld, by employees most of all.” Gornuk told him fiercely.

“The law in question is rarely enforced.”

“No, Mister Weasley, the law in question is rarely needed to be enforced.” Gornuk corrected him, echoing what Harry had said last week in the Wizengamot meeting. “Regardless of how often it is used, it is still a law that we here at Gringotts take very seriously. We pride ourselves on being the safest place for anyone to store their gold and valuables, if we allow for anyone to steal from one of our vaults, our reputation will be ruined and we will lose business, thus our very livelihoods will be at stake. You, as an employee of this bank, should be fully aware of such things.”

“I am.” Bill insisted. “I just believe that putting those potential thieves to death is too harsh. A fine, confiscating their vaults or even imprisonment, but not automatic death. I feel that the law should be updated and that straight up execution for potential theft be removed from the law.”

“This law has worked well as a full out deterrent since it was instated as a law, right back at the very beginning of our nation taking wizards as clients, Mister Weasley. If we allow this one thief to get away with trying to rob from our vaults, how do you think that that will be seen by the general population? How long will it take for someone else to try under this new, lax law of mere fines and imprisonment? We will not stand for such. Gringotts will not be changing its laws to suit the wizards, we will keep the laws, as agreed upon the founding of this bank, as they are.”

There was nothing that Bill could say to that, so he said nothing. The goblins were stubborn, but they couldn’t afford to lose the custom of the wizards, he knew that they couldn’t, so if the Ministry went ahead and changed the laws, the goblins would eventually have to settle for it.

“Our motto here at Gringotts is what, Mister Weasley?” Gornuk demanded suddenly.

“Fortius Quo Fidelius.” Bill replied immediately.

“Fortius Quo Fidelius.” Gornuk nodded in agreement. “Strength through Loyalty. You seem to have forgotten that when you started your career here that you swore to that motto, that you swore that you would show the bank who employed you your loyalty.”

“Am I being fired?” Bill asked, his heart jumping into his throat.

“No.” Gornuk told him. “You are being suspended, pending further inquiry, effective immediately. We will contact you when you are required.”

Bill was numb as he was dismissed after so brief a meeting and he walked on automatic out of the office and then out of the bank. He went to the Leaky Cauldron instead of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. The twins would be busy anyway. He flooed back home and interrupted what looked to be a heated argument between his Mother and Charlie.

“What are you doing back?” Charlie asked him immediately, seizing any change of conversation that he could.

Bill did not relish telling any of them that he had just been suspended from his job, he sunk into a chair and he grit his teeth, preparing himself to just come out and say it.

“I’ve been suspended.”

“What for?” Charlie asked, his blue eyes going wide.

Bill sighed. “For disloyalty to the goblins during the Wizengamot meeting.”

“Because you did not condemn that poor man to death?” His Mother demanded, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Bill nodded miserably. “I’m so sorry, Mum. I won’t be able to contribute as much as I would like now, I never meant for this to happen.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Molly Weasley insisted firmly. “We’ll manage, we always have, what is important here is that you have stuck to the values that you were taught. I would rather be saddled with this debt for the rest of my days than to hear that my own son had allowed anyone to be executed for whatever reason. You did the right thing, Bill and that is what is important to me and your Father.”

Bill felt slightly better about that, but he was very thankful that he was on the Wizengamot now, that he had that large monthly stipend to fall back on, because he knew that he was not going to be paid for this period of suspension, thus he would have no wage coming in for however long the goblins left him to stew before calling him in for his next meeting, where he would possibly be fired, though he took the fact that he wasn’t immediately fired as a small comfort. He was once again thankful that the stipend was a rather considerable sum, especially considering that most of the time he wasn’t actually doing anything. A meeting was called every other month, if that, yet he was still paid monthly regardless.

“What are you going to do?” Charlie asked him.

“There’s nothing I can do at the moment. I have to wait for the goblins to decide what they want to do and then call me back to the bank to tell me if I still have a job or not.”

“That’s rubbish.” Charlie sighed.

Bill nodded. “At least I can catch up on that never ending reading list that I have for the Wizengamot. It’s not like I’ll have anything else to do while suspended from work.”

“At least you got in all of that overtime while you could, that will help.” Charlie tried to provide a silver lining.

Bill nodded. Charlie was right, he had accumulated a lot of overtime in the last month and a half, that would go a long way, especially when paired with his Wizengamot stipend, he was just worried about after that, when he went a month or two with just the stipend and no wages. That was going to be the hardest time, he just hoped that they all got through it alright and that his parents didn’t make themselves sick through worry, stress, overwork or through missing meals like he suspected of them. At least Ron and Ginny were in Hogwarts and could eat three times a day without worry, at least until Hogwarts term time ended that was. The summer was going to be harder still on them all, but as his Mother had said, they would manage, they would have to as they had no other choice.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Harry kissed Rabastan and squeezed his hand when it looked like he was warring with himself.

“It’ll be alright, I’ll see you in a few hours.” Harry said softly, pointedly.

Rabastan took a deep breath, let it out and then kissed him again, gently.

“I’ll see you in a while.” He answered before turning and leaving the room.

Harry turned to Marcus and smiled, hearing the door behind him close quietly. He went to the coffee table and sat on the floor.

“Shall we get started?” He questioned.

“First, is it true that you sentenced a man to execution via the goblins?” Marcus asked him.

“How did you even know about that?” Harry questioned seriously. “It was in a Wizengamot meeting, no one should know about…Draco told you, didn’t he?”

“No, there are little rumours running rife around the Ministry, everyone has a different story or a different reason to tell of, but that one thing stays certain.” Marcus told him. “So it is true, you did get a man executed by using the goblins.”

“It was his own fault for trying to rob one of their bank vaults!” He insisted hotly.

Marcus laughed happily. “I can’t believe it. Has he been executed yet?”

“No. Not yet. There will be a trial, of course, with representatives from the Ministry present, but yes, he will be legally executed by the goblins. I can’t believe that that information got out somehow!” Harry knew exactly how it had gotten out too, the only problem was he had absolutely no proof of his claims and Veritaserum could only be used in exceptional cases. He hated that law too. A few drops of potion and the truth was right there for the asking, what better proof could there be than that? But it was seen as unethical and extreme to use it in most cases. He was of the opinion that the Ministry just didn’t want to foot the cost of using Veritaserum for every single case, it was a very expensive and time consuming potion to brew after all and with the number of cases passing through the Ministry, it would need a substantial quantity of the potion too, which would mount up a substantial cost, if they needed to supply the potion to meet the demand for it with every case.

“I still can’t believe that you managed to get the majority of the Wizengamot to agree to that.”

“I didn’t have to.” Harry said with a sigh. “It was a pre-existing law, all I had to do was point it out to the Chief Warlock and it was completely out of anyone else’s hands. There wasn’t a vote, so I didn’t need to convince anyone.”

Marcus all but cackled and it made Harry crack a smile too.

“Right then, to your Runes.” Marcus said once he was done laughing over the misfortune of others.

“Am I getting better to your standards?”

“You know that you are. Here, do these.”

Harry was handed the familiar worksheets and, taking a deep breath, he dipped his quill into his pot of ink and set to work. He still hated the decoding exercises, but at least his impromptu essay on the dangerous pairings that he’d handed in on their last session had been near perfect, Marcus had said so himself. That had at least made Harry feel a little better and less like an incompetent fool.
Harry handed Marcus the first worksheet once he’d completed it and he started on the second as Marcus started going through the first with red ink. Sometimes Marcus would embellish Harry’s answers and have him copy them down again, to ensure that the information had sunk in, so when Harry saw Marcus dip his quill and start amending his worksheet, he wasn’t too worried about it…well, not overly much at least.
He finished the second worksheet and went right onto the third, leaving the finished worksheet by Marcus’ hand ready for when he finished the first sheet. He was writing rather lot on it with red ink and that made Harry worry more.
He put it from his mind and he carried on with his worksheet instead, seeing in his peripheral vision Marcus put down the one sheet and pick up the second one. It was so tempting to reach out and just pick up the marked sheet and check it, but Marcus was in the habit of smacking his hand if he reached for it before he was ready to talk through them.
Harry finished the final sheet and he sat and waited nervously for Marcus to finish marking his work. He did call Pimsey and politely asked her for some tea for them both. She happily did as asked, even bringing him some of his current chocolate egg, a gorgeously rich milk chocolate with delicately roasted hazelnuts.
He distracted himself with nibbling on the chocolate and drinking the tea. He did not fidget, he did not stare at Marcus as he marked his worksheets and he did not reach out for the already marked sheets.
Marcus finished the final sheet and put it down, there were red marks and scrawls all over it, like the previous two sheets, and Harry tried to think of anything that he hadn’t done correctly, or hadn’t explained fully, but it was impossible to tell what Marcus had picked up on that he might have missed. Marcus was the expert consultant after all.
He watched as Marcus drank down his own tea in several large gulps.

“You’re killing me here.” Harry complained and Marcus grinned at him.

“You’ve done really well.”

“But you wrote so much.” Harry pointed out fretfully.

“Only because I think that you’re ready to move onto a higher level. I’ve explained everything in more detail, here.”

Marcus grabbed the first worksheet and they spent the next hour and a half going through the three worksheets and Harry’s head was spinning with all the new information that had been given to him, but he had a much deeper, richer understanding of the Runes now and his already healthy respect for them had grown insurmountably. They were wonderful, powerful, but so dangerous and volatile and if used incorrectly, if just one Rune in a combination was even slightly off centre with the others, then they could be fatal too.
Harry said goodbye to Marcus, with plans to meet with him again in a few days for another lesson. They had two more lessons loosely planned before he went back to school in just six days and Harry was determined to show that he could improve, even in such a short amount of time.
He went to find Rabastan, his worksheets in hand as he pored over them, committing what Marcus had said to memory.
He found Rabastan, with his brother of course, and Xerxes. Lucius was in work today, likely manipulating Minister Fudge to do exactly as he, or rather Voldemort, wanted him to do.

“There you are.” Xerxes greeted happily. “Basti has been rather irritating in his wait for your lesson to end, please take him off of our hands and give us a small reprieve.”

Harry laughed and shook his head as he sat beside Rabastan, making sure to sit on the opposite side to Rodolphus so that he didn’t physically come between the brothers.

“I’m sure he wasn’t that bad.” Harry said mildly as he turned slightly and rested against Rabastan, still absorbing the worksheets.

“How was your session?” Rabastan asked, ignoring his brother and Grandfather and instead he showed some interest in what Harry was doing, which pleased Harry to no end.

“Harder than usual.” He admitted. “Marcus thinks that I’m ready for a more in depth learning, so I’m being sorely tested. I’ve come to respect Runes a hell of a lot more now. I’m never going to be confident enough to actually use them I don’t think, at least not properly like Marcus does! I’d end up dead.” He laughed. “But moving on to understanding them more deeply, it’s frustrating and exciting all at once, because it might be difficult to understand, but it’s still new information and a deeper perspective of what they’re all about and just how they work.”

“It seems like you’re enjoying learning a lot.” Xerxes pointed out.

Harry smiled and snuggled into Rabastan more. “I am enjoying it, like I enjoy Rabastan teaching me about Arithmancy. When I think about it, I’m so lucky to have people willing to tutor me like this so that I can actually understand it all more fully. I only picked up these electives for this year, so I’m well behind everyone else who all have three years of study on me.”

“It is a good thing that you are such a quick learner.” Xerxes told him.

Harry hummed before he put down the worksheets and then focused completely on Rabastan, giving him the attention that he needed to reassure himself now that Harry was listening to him, that he was interested in what Rabastan had to say. They slipped into their own little world, ignoring that Rodolphus and Xerxes were even there as they spoke quietly to one another. It was exactly the way that Harry liked it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Harry frowned as he looked at all of the junk in the Black vault. Lucius had found some spare time after he’d finished work to bring him to his vaults and Harry had immediately pointed out the offending goblet that had cursed him, which was silver and carved with the Black family insignia. It was larger, older, than the goblets currently being used at Grimmauld Place, and it was the only one that Harry had come across, it didn’t seem to be a part of a set.
Harry went carefully digging through the other items, not touching anything that Lucius had immediately pulled aside after a cursory sweep of his wand.

“You were right to be cautious about this vault.” Lucius told him. “It is filled to bursting with cursed objects. Do not touch anything, I will not have you risking yourself in such a negligent way.”

Harry nodded at the serious tone in Lucius’ voice and he only touched what had already been cleared. Some of the curses were easy enough for Lucius to counter, others were being kept aside as things a bit more serious that would need a specialist to look over, namely Xerxes. Which is why they had a trunk with them that was being carefully filled with cursed objects that Lucius couldn’t handle or counter on his own.
Harry spied a tapestry and he approached it cautiously. He looked at it with a frown.

“What have you found?” Lucius asked him, being alerted to a problem as his son went still and quiet and a quick glance up saw him staring at something.

“It has my name on it.” Harry said worriedly.

Lucius immediately approached him, but his worried frown melted away.

“This tapestry is magically enhanced, Harry. Your name appeared on this tapestry the moment that Sirius left you as his proxy and you inherited everything after his death. You then slid the Black ring onto your finger. When you marry Rabastan, he will appear upon it as your spouse and then your children will appear upon it as your Heirs. You are the new branch of the Black family.”

“Why is this tapestry here and not at the Black house at Grimmauld Place?”

“You told me that you had been to Grimmauld Place.”

“I have!” Harry insisted.

“Did you happen to see the tapestry at Grimmauld Place?”

“Yes, but it was damaged and burned. Sirius said that his Mum used to blast people off of the…this one would keep repairing itself, wouldn’t it?” He asked, cottoning on.

“Well done, yes it would. Regardless that they had been disowned, this tapestry would still document their lives, marriages and children. Walburga Black was a very formidable woman and she disowned anyone who did not live up to her high standards. Whether it was her niece, Andromeda, for marrying a Muggle, her niece’s daughter, Nymphadora, for being a half-blood, her own son for not staying and enduring her abuses or even her own brother, purely for giving gold to her run away son, to provide for him when she refused to do so.”

Harry scoffed and then looked at his own name, Harry James Potter-Black, embroidered on the tapestry. It sunk in that he was an actual member of the Black family. He sucked in a large breath and he traced his fingers over where he was placed.

“If you wanted to take this tapestry and put it up at Grimmauld Place then it is entirely your decision, it is your tapestry, it is your house.” Lucius told him.

Harry considered that. “Could I remove the damaged tapestry to put this one up? I’m in the process of re-decorating Grimmauld Place, I would much rather this one be on the wall than Walburga’s damaged, tarnished one.”

“Of course, I could help you with that.”

Harry nodded. “It might have to wait for the summer, though.” He sighed.

Lucius nodded his understanding as he went back to looking at more cursed objects.

“Why are so many of these things cursed?” Harry asked as he looked at what seemed to be a perfectly ordinary pair of five branch candelabra, they seemed to be humming slightly and Harry snapped his gaze away from them sharpish when he realised that he was stretching out his hand to touch them without consciously thinking of doing so.

“With the Black family, who knows? They were likely items implicated in a crime, which is why they are hidden in the family vault.”

“Who wants to live with so many cursed items floating around? How can you raise children when every innocuous thing they could touch is cursed? No wonder Sirius left that house!”

“I believe that this is enough for now.” Lucius said as he carefully floated something else into the trunk for Xerxes to sort out, he was going to be kept rather busy it seemed. “Was there anything else that you needed to do today? Other than going to Flourish and Blotts.” Lucius asked him, adding on the last when Harry went to open his mouth to remind the man that he wanted to go to the book shop.

Harry considered the question and then shook his head. “No.” He answered verbally, before he got a stinging hex to the head. “I just want to get some more books, I was hoping that I could find some more books that the school library doesn’t have on the Wizengamot and the Council of Magical Law. I also want all the books I can find on current creature laws. All of them, even the most innocuous of legislations that were passed.”

“Come along then. Have you withdrawn enough gold?”

Harry nodded and touched the purse that was inside his robe pocket. It was literally just a bit of spending money for trips to Hogsmeade or for snacks on the Hogwarts Express. Any large purchases that he needed to make then he would use his exchange book.
They left the Black vault and made their way back up to the Alley, trying not to blink like fools in the bright light after the dull, dampness of the underground vaults. They went over to Flourish and Blotts and Harry went straight to the politics section, looking for anything that might help him with what he wanted.
An hour later he had moved from politics to history and he now found himself in the law section. He was adding yet another book to the twenty or so already hovering in a stack behind him.

“Are you quite done?” Lucius asked him.

“Not yet.” Harry said mildly as he perused several more titles.

“I found these several for you, they’re very informative for what you require.” Lucius told him, adding the books to the floating pile that Harry already had. “You will never read all of these by the end of term.”

“I actually might. I’m still on a light workload and I have much less homework to do. It’ll be difficult nearer to the exams, but between then and now, I could read quite a lot of these books and then it is another three weeks after my exams before the end of term, so I can spend all of those three weeks reading if I need to.”

Lucius’ mouth didn’t so much as flicker, but his eyes did as he smiled at him proudly, giving his shoulder a tight squeeze before he left to once more peruse the shelves while he waited, as patiently as he could, for his son to finish his book shopping. He feared that they would be here for another hour before Harry was satisfied. He was not one to discourage such a habit in his sons, but even he thought that two hours in a book shop was a little excessive.
Thankfully Harry came to him only twenty minutes later, declaring that he had enough to occupy him for now and Lucius added another three books to Harry’s pile and he stood back and watched as Harry handled his purchase himself, using a self-inking quill and his exchange book. Harry signed his name and handed over the cheque and he took his charmed bag of books and met him at the door. He had come on so well and Lucius was very proud, so very proud of the man that he had moulded Harry into becoming.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Rabastan missed Harry already and he’d only been gone for an hour. He had said his goodbyes to his future in-laws, the Malfoys, and he and his family had gone back to Lestrange manor.
He had hoped to avoid his poisonous Father, Rhadamanthus, but he had no such luck as his Father had been lying in wait for him to come back. He did his best to ignore the practical stranger mumbling and complaining about him as he quilled a letter to Harry, as he just couldn’t help himself. He did miss his Fiancé and he just wanted to hold him in his arms again, to have his head resting on his chest as he listened to Harry babble on about this or that. Since the Wizengamot meeting on the twenty-sixth of the previous month, it had been all focused on changing the creature laws.
He was very happy to help Harry with this, as they, the Purebloods as a whole, couldn’t be seen to accept such abominations or to support them in any way. But Harry, who was known for being an incessant advocate of equality for all beings, would be able to do so with no suspicions being cast upon him or anyone doubting his motives or even anyone thinking that there was anything deeper to his proposed laws than him wanting equal rights for all magical creatures, and from Harry’s perspective at least, there actually wouldn’t be anything deeper. But a change in the laws, a loosening of the tight leash that all creatures collectively wore, would help their Lord immensely. It would allow Greyback to move more easily, it would help their creature allies to do as they were ordered without much hindrance, it was a perfect solution. So he allowed Harry to talk about all the laws that he was going to change and how he was going to change them and Rabastan was all too happy to help him to refine these changes so that they contained no loop holes or any room for other interpretations. It made him feel much better about his inability to help his Lord, because this way he felt like he was doing something to help the cause, even if it was something as small as helping Harry to change the laws. So he got behind Harry fully and he was going to start researching for Harry too, to help pass these laws much sooner, and to help pass the time until he could have his Harry back in his arms again.

“You are a disgraceful stain on this family.”

Rabastan blinked and looked up. His Father seemed to have lost patience with his lack of reply, or even his lack of reaction and attention, and he had spoken the last in a louder voice, so that it broke through his internal thoughts and the soft scratch of his quill against parchment.

“Perhaps if you have something to say, you should stop mumbling under your breath and speak more clearly, so that others can actually hear you. Not that anyone here cares to hear what you have to say.” Rabastan said, shoving down the innate fear of this man that he had developed and cutting off Rodolphus, who had been about to leap to his immediate defence, as always. But he had grown so much since he had met Harry, he now felt able to stand up for himself, because Harry had given him some self-worth. He now knew that he had nothing to fear from Rhadamanthus, Harry had shown him that.

Rhadamanthus looked apoplectic with rage as Rabastan spoke back to him for the first time. Harry truly was doing wonders for his confidence.

“You ungrateful little fuck!” Rhadamanthus spat at him, his fists clenching, a thick vein throbbing in his neck.

“Ungrateful?” Rabastan queried. “What am I ungrateful for? As I remember, you did not raise me, it was not you who looked after me or taught me or fed me. It was Grandfather who did so, it was Grandfather who kept me clothed and taught me to read and to write, not you. I did not even know who you were until I was nineteen and you came back from India and two years later Dolphus and I were in Azkaban. I barely know you and I don’t want to know you. Grandfather is the only Father that I have ever known and he is the only one that I want, Rhadamanthus. So tell me, what do I actually owe to you?”

When it looked like Rhadamanthus was going to physically strike him, Rodolphus shifted and made himself known as he placed a supporting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, letting Rhadamanthus see that he was on Rabastan’s side, but not only that, but that he would also leap to his defence and if he so much as moved in Rabastan’s direction, Rhadamanthus would be meeting him instead.

“I would suggest, Rhadamanthus, that you leave this room.” Rodolphus said coldly.

“You do not tell me…”

“Get out.” Xerxes ordered.

The look on Rhadamanthus’ face could have curdled milk it was that sour, but Rabastan didn’t let it bother him as he bent back to his letter to Harry, completely dismissing his Father and whatever he was going to do as unimportant. He heard Rhadamanthus leave and then Rodolphus laughed.

“Seeing you finally stand up to him in such a way is a very welcome change, I’m very proud of you.” Rodolphus told him.

“It has truly sunk in, he cannot do anything to me. Harry has been telling me since we first met, but only now am I realising that he was right, that man has done nothing for me my entire life, in fact he has been trying his hardest to ruin my life ever since he came back into it, what do I owe him? Why should I listen to him? He’s a stranger to me, I barely know him. I don’t wish to know him. As Harry told me, it’s better for me and my health if I just cut him off.”

“That boy has done more for you than you can ever know.” Xerxes told him.

“I am well aware of exactly how Harry has helped me, and how much he has helped me, and I know that I will never be able to repay him for all that he has done, or will do, for me and my recovery. But I also know that he has not done as such for any potential returns, he has done this out of the genuine kindness of his heart, purely because he wanted to do so. He could have just cast me aside and found any other number of suitors, instead he chose me and he is helping me to heal myself, to make myself the best person that I can be, both physically and mentally.” Rabastan stopped then, as he saw the looks on his brother and Grandfather’s faces. He realised then what he had just been saying and he repeated the words to himself mentally, then, overjoyed by his discovery, he said them aloud too. Twice, just for good measure. “He chose me. He chose me.”

The Knut truly dropped for him then and Xerxes and Rodolphus both smiled as they watched the realisation wash over him. They had both been trying to force him to understand what they could see clearly, but it had been a lost cause, they had been unable to force Rabastan to see what they could, but quite by accident, he had come to the same conclusion by himself. All it had taken was Rhadamanthus starting on him once more and finally, Rabastan understood what they had been able to see all along. That Harry had had a choice right from the very beginning, that he could have sent Rabastan packing after their first cursory meeting, but he hadn’t. He had chosen to keep their betrothal, he had said yes to the proposal of marriage of his own free will and he had chosen to stay with him of his own free will. Harry had made his choice and now Rabastan realised it too. It had taken him long enough too.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Harry missed Rabastan terribly. He had no idea how he was going to survive the rest of the term, let alone how he was going to handle having to go through all of this again for another year. He sighed and looked around his small, private rooms, thrusting a hand through his hair as he did so.
He noticed then that his hands were ink stained and he rolled his eyes at himself. He had been going over his notes from the meetings with Dumbledore. He had kept them here, just in case he took them home and someone read them. If the information was going to be released, it was going to be from his own lips, at a time when he felt ready to release it. Not because some nosy fuck went digging in his private papers.
He looked it over again and nibbled the end of his quill, a habit he had picked up in primary school when he used to nibble on the end of his pens. Lucius had all but squashed the habit now, but while under high stress, and in private, Harry slipped back to his childhood habit of playing with, and nibbling on, whatever was in his hands.
He had circled Gryffindor’s sword and he knew that he needed to get it. He had his invisibility cloak, but he also knew that in order to get into Dumbledore’s office, he’d have to beat the gargoyle. He didn’t know if it was locked, or if it was warded at night to not open, even with the password. Then there was Dumbledore himself, who, as an old man, would not sleep very much. There were no guarantees that he wouldn’t be in the office when Harry wandered in and tried to take the sword. Then there were the portraits, for while they always seemed to be sleeping, they actually had no need for sleep at all and they used it as a way to effectively eavesdrop by appearing to be fast asleep when truly they were wide awake and listening hard to every word spoken.
Thrusting his hand back through his hair, Harry chewed on his lip instead, the tip of his quill was already damp from spit and the feathers were clumping. Lucius would not be impressed if Harry wrote to him to tell him that he needed another set of new quills, because he would have to explain why and Harry did not relish telling him that he’d been chewing on his quills again.
He sighed, put down his quill and picked up some of his broken chocolate egg that was lying beside him. He had done his best to demolish all of them while he’d been on the Easter break, but there had been too many, but he had still eaten half of all of them while at home, except for the chocolate orange egg, which had been completely eaten within three days.
It was as he was chewing on the chocolate hazelnut egg that he had an idea and he perked up as he mentally explored it. He frowned as he realised that he couldn’t use Pimsey for this, she was the Malfoy elf and if caught, it would implicate him and his family. He couldn’t use Dobby, who was a Hogwarts elf. No, it would have to be Kreacher, which reminded him that he’d wanted to figure out what that elf was doing and where he kept vanishing to, he had entirely forgotten when he’d gone to decorate Grimmauld Place with Remus.

“Kreacher.” He called out.

The old, sagging elf appeared in Harry’s rooms and immediately bowed to him.

“Master called for Kreacher.”

“I did. Where have you been? I know that you haven’t been at Grimmauld Place.”

“Kreacher has been with Mistress Bella…”

“If you tell me that you’ve been with Bellatrix I swear, I’ll…” Harry cut himself off with a huge inhale and he clenched his fist. “You are forbidden from going near her, you cannot see her, speak to her, get others to speak to her for you or contact her by any means. You are not to follow her orders or to go to her if she calls for you, do you understand me?” He demanded seriously.

Kreacher looked about ready to cry, or to scratch out Harry’s eyes, but he bowed and murmured a general agreement.

“It might have escaped your notice, but I am Lord Black now, you follow my orders and no one else’s, understand?”

Kreacher again bowed and murmured another general agreement.

“I am not a cruel person, Kreacher. I am not going to hurt you, I am not going to ask you to hurt yourself, but you are testing me to my limit. You know how I feel about that woman! I don’t blame you for your part in Sirius’ death, I know how he treated you, but I am not him and I don’t want you anywhere near her. Any orders that she has given to you, you are to immediately disregard.”

Kreacher bowed so low that his long nose touched the floor. Harry got the feeling that Kreacher was cursing him in his head, but he allowed Kreacher to keep his own thoughts.

“Now, I have a task for you, one where you mustn’t be caught or seen.” Harry said.

Kreacher looked up at him curiously, waiting for Harry to carry on, but Harry was collecting his thoughts and thinking of how to word the order so that it contained no loopholes, just in case. If anything it was going to be good practice for when he started writing law proposals.

“I need you to get something for me, but it might be warded with spells and the place where it’s kept is warded.” Harry stopped and considered his words more. “I am an adoptee of the Malfoy family, I am Lord Potter-Black and I am to be married to Rabastan Lestrange. You know what that means, Kreacher. I am your Master, you will keep my secrets at all times and hold your tongue with others. I need the sword of Gryffindor.” Harry said and he watched as Kreacher’s bloodshot eyes widened in shock. “It’s kept in Dumbledore’s office, but I can’t go in and get it, Kreacher. I need you to get it for me without being seen or heard. This cannot come back to me. No one must know that it was you, no one must know that it was me, do you understand?”

Kreacher nodded mutely.

“You will take the sword immediately to Grimmauld Place, you will hide it in a corner of the attic so that no one can see it or find it until I go and get it. Can you do this, Kreacher?”

“Yes, Master.”

“You can pick the time when you do this, when you feel it’s safer for you to do so without being caught.” Harry insisted. “Take as much time as you need for this task, Kreacher, but come to tell me immediately after you have done as instructed, so that I know the sword is at home.”

Kreacher nodded his understanding. “Yes, Master.”

Harry nodded. “Not a word of this to anyone, Kreacher, off you go.”

Harry watched as the elf bowed and then vanished from sight and immediately after, Harry was hit with doubts, nagging insecurities and scenarios where things could go horribly wrong. He chewed on his lip some more.
If he was caught with the sword, if Kreacher was caught and Harry implicated…he sucked in a deep breath and calmed himself. He needed the sword to use it as a bargaining chip, it was worth the risk. If he was caught with it, then he’d just have to say that he wanted to look at it closer and then give it back over and try again in a year or so.
He closed his eyes and then put away the notes that he’d made. He calmed himself and then stood up and went to get himself ready for bed, before he would take his nutrient potion. He wanted to be in bed and fast asleep before the night sweats and fever kicked in, so that he was fresh and ready for his lessons the next day. Perhaps he should pick up a little more homework, he obviously had far too much free time on his hands.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Harry had picked up a little more homework during that next week, but only for Transfiguration. He had gone to Professor McGonagall Monday morning and he’d asked her for a little more to do, she had been a bit leery of giving him more work to do, as the first thing that she had asked was if he was still taking his potions, and when he had told her that yes he was, she was all for refusing him, but he had convinced her that he was feeling better, stronger, that the potions were working, albeit rather slowly, and she had finally relented and given him some more challenging exercises to work on over the next week. He was on a trial basis, however, if she believed that the work was too much for him, then he would be back on his lighter, easier workload.
In the meantime he felt a little happier that he had less time to worry about anything and that his mind had less time to come up with awful scenarios as he threw himself into the new exercises and essays with something akin to relish.
Today, a Saturday, he was distracting himself with something else, as he tutored Luna and Astoria in Defence, later that evening he had another meeting with Dumbledore to learn more about Tom Riddle, the boy before the man who would turn into Voldemort.
Astoria had been included in the Defence tutoring when Draco had asked him that morning if he wanted to go to the library to study, but Harry had told him then that he was tutoring Luna. Astoria had all but begged to be included, as she just couldn’t get the hang of certain spells. Harry had agreed, so now he was running a sort of mini DA, with just Luna and Astoria, though Draco and Blaise were coming along too. The older two insisted that it was purely to watch, but he knew better. He was the unchallenged top of Defence in their year and he had been since their first year. They were coming to pick up tips or hints that they could use as Harry tutored the two younger girls.
Luna was her usual dreamy self, Astoria was coolly polite and focused. It had been over an hour and only now were they getting the hang of the blasting curse, after many demonstrations, theory debates and add-ons from Draco and Blaise, safely behind the girls on the settee, away from the line of fire, so to speak.

“Right girls, Confringo!”

Harry used the strongest blasting curse on the chair and it blew apart into several pieces, one of the legs even embedded itself in the wall, his curse had been that strong.

“The wand movement of this curse is just to literally point at your target, locking your elbow as you do so. The power behind this spell comes from imagining the object, or person, exploding.” Harry told them, using his best voice, the one he used in the Wizengamot to get people to listen to him, imbued with the ‘Professor’ voice that he’d used while teaching the DA. “Luna, you go first.”

“Confringo.” Luna said, pointing her wand at the newly repaired chair. There was little power behind the spell, it did at least make the chair fall apart, but the pieces stayed within a two foot radius.

“Okay, Luna, you need to imagine it exploding a little better and use a sharper pointing gesture. Astoria, you try.”

“Confringo!” Astoria cried out. Her chair did explode on a larger scale than Luna’s, but it still more or less fell apart rather than exploded.

“That was good, Astoria. You need to move your wand better too.”

Harry moved around behind her and held her dainty wrist, he slashed her arm in a smooth outward motion from her chest to point dead outwards at the chair. He repeated it and then let Astoria do the move on her own. He moved over to Luna and he repeated his actions, standing behind her and slashing her wand out for her.

“Astoria, go.” Harry instructed.

“Confringo!” She cried and Harry grinned as the chair did explode this time. Nothing got stuck in the wall like when he’d done the curse, but for a young girl, it was a damn good start. She wouldn’t be able to make people explode, not yet, but she was getting there and it would at least give them a nasty shock of pain, which would hopefully, if either girl was ever in such a situation, Merlin forbid, give them the time they’d need to get away safe.

“Well done, Astoria! Luna, go on.”

“Confringo!” She shouted and the newly repaired chair was blasted apart once again.

“Yes, girls! Well done!” He said. “I think we can leave things here for now. You’ve both done very well and you’ve come so far in just one lesson. I want you to read up some theory on binding spells if you have the time for our next lesson. This is just a bit on the side, okay? Do all your homework first, I don’t have the power to give you a detention, but your Professors do.”

The two girls nodded and Luna said her goodbyes, picking up her book bag and leaving, she no longer had her wand in her hand, but she was practising the movement as she walked, which pleased Harry, even as he sat his arse down beside Blaise. Astoria sat next to Draco and Harry took a moment to just relax.

“You really are a good teacher.” Blaise told him.

“I’m looking into it as a career.” Harry said. “It makes me happier to help others. I’m actually good at it.”

“You are, I am rather lacking in Defence, that was why I sort of pushed myself upon you when I heard that you were tutoring Lovegood personally.” Astoria told him. “I never thought myself capable of the blasting curse.”

“You are very capable of it, Astoria, you just need to believe in yourself. You can do it, and I believe that you’ve just proven that to yourself today as well.”

“My curse wasn’t as powerful as yours.” She lamented.

“It was never going to be, I am, after all, a rather powerful wizard.” He grinned to show that he was teasing, but Astoria still giggled at his boasts, as he knew that she would.

“Reel your ego in.” Draco told him and Harry laughed.

“You can’t complain of anyone else’s ego.” Harry lent over Blaise to prod at his brother.

“Will you show us the Reductor curse?” Astoria asked.

Harry gave a look to Draco, but his brother gave a slight shake of his head. He hadn’t told Astoria about his little show at the New Year, when he’d used the Reductor curse to blow off Rowle’s leg. The Reductor curse had never been intended for living targets, that was what the blasting curse was for, the Reductor curse was meant to be a lower level blasting curse for use on inanimate objects, but Harry, or his magic for that matter, had never been one to play by the rules.

“Sure. The Reductor curse is a milder form of the blasting curse that I just showed you and it usually only works on inanimate objects, or rather non-living targets.”

“What do you mean usually?” Blaise queried immediately.

“I’ve seen the Reductor curse used on a living target and it was not pretty.” Harry said. “It takes a lot of power to bend a curse from its original purpose, but it can be done, so always be aware of that.”

“What did it do?” Astoria asked him curiously. “Who cast it and upon whom?”

Harry shook his head.

“It was you, wasn’t it?!” Blaise demanded. But fuck was Blaise an observant shit, Harry cursed him for it now.

“It never leaves this room.” Harry insisted sternly. “I may well end up in Azkaban for this.”

The two out of the loop both looked at him, wide eyed and very serious. They each nodded their heads.

“It was me who used the Reductor curse on someone. It is one of my favourite spells. I know personally what it can do against a living target because I was witness to it.”

“When was this?” Blaise asked. “Who did you curse?”

“If you ever mention it to anyone, even in passing…” He threatened.

“I won’t, you know I won’t.” Blaise insisted.

“I won’t either. Draco is my betrothed, that makes you my family. Family will always keep the secrets of family.” Astoria said primly.

“It was at the Ball my family hosted.”

“The New Year party?” Blaise asked in shock, having obviously expected this incident to have been a lot further in the past than a mere three months ago.

“You changed your robes that night.” Astoria said, recalling the night. “You were wearing blue robes when you greeted us as host, then when I next saw you, you’d changed to green. Draco told me that someone had knocked a serving bowl of trifle into your lap and you’d gone to change to give yourself time to cool off. Did you…did you curse the person who knocked the serving bowl onto you?”

“No, Astoria.” Harry said. “There was no incident with a serving bowl, that was just a lie I’d told Draco to spread around to explain my change of robes, he knew it was a lie, but at that point even he didn’t know what had happened, I told him later that night, after the party had ended and everyone had gone home. But, as it turns out, the Reductor curse used with enough power on a living target is very…messy.”

“You’re still not saying who you used the curse on, or why you did so.” Blaise pointed out, but Harry could almost see his sharp mind whirring as he tried to figure out the puzzle.

“Can you think of no one who I might have used that curse on that night?” Harry asked him, giving Blaise ample time to figure it out. He knew when Blaise had connected the dots and finally understood when his purple eyes widened in alarm.

“Thorfinn Rowle! He’s gone missing and no one can find him. He was last seen at the Malfoy party and he attacked you a week earlier, at the Parkinson’s Christmas party! He attacked you again, didn’t he?”

“He did, so what I did, though considered excessive, was actually self-defence. Astoria, you need not listen to this if you don’t wish too.”

“What did he do?” She demanded, a fierce scowl covering her young, ardent face.

Harry sighed. “He was intent upon ruining me and my betrothal to Rabastan, as this was the night before we got engaged. He tried to…” Harry trailed off, trying to prevent his mind from going back to that night and he inhaled deeply to control himself. “He tried to rape me on the bathroom floor of my own home with the intent of getting me pregnant and then using the baby to force Father’s hand into breaking my betrothal with Rabastan and allowing Rowle to marry me to keep the baby legitimate.” He forced out in one go, trying to keep his voice as steady and as emotionless as he could.

Astoria gasped and had covered her mouth with a small, shaking hand and Blaise looked ready to murder Rowle all over again. Their reactions made Harry more confident that they would keep this secret to themselves.

“I wasn’t about to let anything of the sort happen to me.” Harry carried on. “Rowle had already tried to daze me by smashing my head into a mirror, I lost my bearings and the next I knew we were on the floor, his hands around my throat telling me how I had humiliated him, a Pureblood of such high prestige he was attacking a sixteen year old in a bathroom for rejecting him. I was dizzy and in pain as he let go of my throat and started tearing open my robes, telling me his grand plan of how he was going to rape me and get me pregnant so that he could have the biggest claim to me. I tried to gouge out his eyes with my thumbs, but he head butted me and then punched me for good measure. It was when he broke the front of my trousers that I really panicked as I realised that he was actually serious about raping me. It hadn’t truly sunken in before that moment, but as he tried to take off my trousers, I knew he was actually going to go through with it. I found my wand and I don’t even know what the first spell that I used was, my anger and fear took over and without having to say a word, Rowle was blasted four feet away from me and I was able to catch my breath again. That first spell had broken his arm, badly broken it, but it wasn’t enough, I was so angry. I didn’t even think about which spell to use, I just picked my favourite blasting curse, not even remembering that the Reductor curse wasn’t meant to be used on anything living, and I aimed right between his legs.”

Draco and Blaise both flinched in reflexive action, but Astoria almost snarled in pleasure at hearing that Harry had targeted the very thing that Rowle would have used to harm him with.

“Unfortunately he moved at the last moment and the curse hit his leg instead.” Harry said.

“What did it do?” Blaise asked as Harry trailed off into daydreams.

“It blew his leg off with such a force that it almost exploded, it was raining blood in the bathroom as the leg went spinning off into a corner. The blood was everywhere, dripping down the tiles, it covered everything, including me. The puddle under Rowle was getting larger even as I watched, the stump he was left with was just spurting blood everywhere and there was no stopping it, the sever was too high up to put any sort of pressure on it as there was nothing left to hold onto. I still remember the high, animalistic pitch of his screaming. I’ll never forget that sound now, for as long as I live. After that I hurried to a spare room down the hall and I sent Pimsey to get Father and he brought Xerxes, Rodolphus and Rabastan with him along with…along with Fenrir Greyback. I told them what had happened and Father assured me that he’d take care of everything. Rowle was alive when I left the bathroom, but Greyback is Greyback.” Harry said, watching as the three faces went chalk pale. He hadn’t told Draco that Greyback was involved originally.

“You never…” Draco cut himself off.

“I know. I was trying to spare you some of the grisly details. Rowle was alive and screaming when I left, but he was bleeding so rapidly that he might have easily bled out in the time that it took for me to explain everything. I have no idea if I was the final executioner or if Greyback was, I didn’t want to know. Sometimes I think it would be better if the final cause of death could be pushed onto Greyback, then I think that it would still be my fault because I had reduced Rowle to being defenceless and unable to get away as he was being eaten alive. So no, I never want to know the truth, but you can see why I don’t want this spread around. I could be a murderer for all I know, in fact I could probably be charged for culpable murder, as it could be twisted that I helped Greyback to kill Rowle. Anyway, I left the clean up to Father, Xerxes, Rodolphus and Greyback, while Rabastan took me upstairs to clean me off and to help me change my ruined robes for the only pair that I had left.”

It was silent in the room as everyone absorbed the story, and Harry knew exactly what a horror it was too. Then Blaise threw an arm around him and pulled him into a hug.

“It was self-defence.” He said strongly. “Any witch or wizard in the same position would have done exactly the same if they were able to. The Reductor curse isn’t supposed to be used on the living, you could argue in your defence that you were aiming at the floor, or even the bath, to slow him down while you escaped, only he moved into the path of the spell and, well, who would have ever expected a spell designed to be used on inanimate objects to be powerful enough to completely sever the leg of a grown man? Just remind me to never piss you off, Harry, because if you are so good at Defence spells that you can change the designed purpose of the spells that you use, then you are crazy powerful and I never want to get on your bad side.”

“I would never use any spell as a form of punishment or simply out of hand. Rowle had attacked me twice, had tried to strangle me, had threatened to kill Rabastan, had tried to rape me and he had punched me in the face. Of course I was going to defend myself against that, but I would never use such curses lightly, not in a debate or even an argument. I wouldn’t even use such curses if we were fighting and I was furious. Quite literally the only time I would use them would be in situations like the one with Rowle, when I am being physically attacked and I’m fearing for my life or future. Then I will use any curse I have in my arsenal to get away.”

“It is a very large arsenal too.” Draco joked.

Harry chuckled. “It is. Which reminds me that I got the members of the DA to cast a corporeal Patronus last year. Astoria, I think you need to learn too.”

“But that is very advanced magic! I’ll never be able to do it.” She complained.

“You will. Luna can already do it and I can teach you too. Don’t forget that I could cast a corporeal Patronus at thirteen. I can get you casting one too.”

“Can you teach me that one too?” Blaise asked.

Harry nodded. “I can teach all three of you together.”

“I want to learn alone.” Blaise insisted.

Harry gave him a confused ‘why the hell do you want to do that’ face.

“Well if my Patronus is a fucking mouse, I obviously won’t want anyone else knowing about it!” Blaise explained.

Harry laughed. “It won’t be a mouse. You’re quiet and observant, but you’re far from timid. You’d maybe be a lion or some other big cat that’s lazy at times, but always watchful and quick to pounce.”

“He’s only quick to pounce on a pretty girl.” Astoria put in coolly.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that I’ve done pretty boys too.” Blaise added with a smirk. “Speaking of which, Harry…”

“No.” Harry said quickly. “Whatever it is, no.”

“Leave my brother alone.” Draco growled. “How many times do I have to warn you off?!”

“You wouldn’t have to if Harry gave me one night of passion with his gorgeous, virginal self.” Blaise laughed.

Harry backhanded him in the chest, but ultimately just rolled his eyes and ignored him.

“How do you know it would be passionate?” Astoria asked curiously, seemingly unable to help herself as she looked Harry over critically.

“Are you kidding?” Blaise replied. “Harry is one of the most passionate people I know, of course he’d be an absolute wildcat in bed!”

Harry blushed pink in embarrassment and hid his face in his hands.

“Blaise!” He whined. “Stop saying such things!”

“It’s true though! I’m completely jealous of Rabastan and that he’ll be getting you on your wedding night.”

Harry had a thought then and, knowing how archaic the Purebloods were, his heart just about stopped.

“Please tell me that no one will be listening or watching on our wedding night?!” He begged, remembering then that in the past it had been socially acceptable for people to be witness to that first night, at least, it was in the past in the Muggle world.

“Of course!” Blaise replied immediately. “It’s the best part of a wedding and the only reason I go to any! You’re going to look stunning in a sheer, white robe laid out on a bed of white silk in a room large enough for all of your guests to be witness. You’ll be so passionate after Rabastan strips you naked and has his way with you and I’m betting money with Theo that you’re loud too.”

Harry was almost sick and his face must have paled dramatically because Draco reached over and he hit Blaise, hard.

“I have no idea what barbaric practice you are speaking of, but it will not be playing a part in my brother’s wedding!” He said angrily. “Of course no one is going to watch you have sex, Harry. That is a private moment between you and your new husband! No one else should see or hear a thing, it’s rude. Why did you even think of such a horrific thing? Is it some sort of Muggle tradition? Do Muggles actually allow others to be witness to such an intimate, private moment?”

“It’s an old Muggle tradition.” Blaise said with an unapologetic grin. “Hundreds of years ago it was actually expected to be able to watch the bride be deflowered by her new husband on their wedding night, or to just listen at the door and shout out encouragement, and then they’d display the bloody sheets afterwards as proof that the bride had been a virgin.”

Astoria looked horrified and Harry was only just regaining control of his hammering heart and ragged breathing. There would have been absolutely no way that he would have married anyone, love of his life or not, if that practice was actually expected of him.

“How revolting!” Draco’s pointy face was pinched in disgust.

“I’m not even surprised that you know of such traditions!” Astoria declared to Blaise. “Knowing how lecherous you are, of course this Muggle titbit found its way into your knowledge base.”

“Mother took me to several museums and old cathedrals every year when I was younger.” Blaise said with a wide grin. “Muggle and magical alike, so that I could have a broad understanding of world history. I also know how the Muggles used to use everyday items as torture devices in place of magic and potions.”

“I think my stomach has turned enough for one night without hearing about torture too.” Harry said weakly.

“Yes, you’ve had enough fun at Harry’s expense tonight!” Draco told Blaise. “Enough now.”

“To think that all of this has come from us talking about Patronus forms.” Astoria shook her head, her blonde hair sliding over her face. Before she could move to swipe it away, Draco had done it for her, gently brushing the strands out of her face and tucking them behind her ear.

Harry averted his gaze from the loving gesture and he smiled. The two were getting much closer in recent months, since Harry had given a bit of useful advice to Draco and gave him a bit of a push. It was wonderful to see, because Astoria really liked Draco and was happy with their match, and truly, Harry believed that Draco was just as happy with the match now that he realised that Astoria did actually like him, but was just a little shy. They were much more comfortable with one another and Astoria was no longer leery around any conversation with Draco, as she’d proven time again now that he was paying her more quality attention and not just sticking to the minimum hour after dinner every day that the betrothal contract outlined for them.
They were rarely apart these days and though he disliked admitting it, and he would never show it, Harry was rather jealous, because he couldn’t even speak to his Fiancé face to face. He couldn’t hold his hand through the corridors, he couldn’t cuddle up to him in the evenings in front of the fire. It wasn’t fair. He just really missed Rabastan and it drove him mad when all he wanted to do was have an actual conversation and a cuddle with him. He shoved it aside. He truly was happy for Draco and Astoria, he just couldn’t help but be jealous of them too, but that didn’t mean that he had to be an utter dick about it either. He just had to keep reminding himself that it wouldn’t be for long, it was the middle of spring, summer was coming quick, he would be taking his exams in just over a month, at the end of May, and from now until then, he was going to be very busy studying, so at least during the longest term at Hogwarts he was going to be kept busy through it. That way he wouldn’t have much time to think of anything, much less have the time to worry and fret over it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Harry made his way to Dumbledore’s office for yet another meeting, though this would be his first in a while, since Dumbledore insisted that he needed yet another memory and he was having difficulty in collecting it. Apparently Harry was supposed to have helped over the previous summer, but he had been with the Malfoys. Harry had no idea how it was that he would have been able to help, but he didn’t care enough to ask.
He said the password to the gargoyle and walked up the stairs to the office above, trying to push away the thoughts of what else he could be doing right about now if he didn’t have to come here and endure this meeting about Voldemort. Though he was excited to learn more as he hoped to fit more pieces of the puzzle so that he could solve it at last.

“Come in, Harry.” Dumbledore said as Harry gave the door a cursory knock.

He had already entered before Dumbledore had asked him too. He wasn’t feeling particularly accommodating today. His eyes automatically clocked Gryffindor’s sword, in its pristine glass case on the shelf behind Dumbledore’s head, before he looked at the man himself.

“How are you feeling today?”

“Fine, a little tired, but that is to be expected.” He said cordially.

“I can see that you would prefer to get right to the point of this meeting.” Dumbledore said.

“I do have a lot of revision to get through and I need to sort out my robes for the Wizengamot party next week.”

“Ah, yes. I remember that it is to be held later this month. It will not interfere with your studies?”

“No, I have my exam revision well in hand.”

Dumbledore looked at him for a moment, before he nodded and turned to the Pensieve in front of him.

“To business then, Harry.”

Harry steeled himself for this, setting his mind to the task of memorising everything that was going to happen in the Pensieve.
When he landed, he was in a classroom and there were half a dozen teenaged boys sat around an older wizard with a gingery-blond moustache, clearly a Professor, sat in a winged armchair, his feet resting on a velvet pouffe, drinking wine and eating small yellow squares that seemed to be covered in sugar.
Harry found Tom Riddle amongst the boys, he was wearing the Gaunt ring on his finger, and slightly confused as to what was going on, Harry looked around curiously, trying to figure it out. He was actually stunned to see a teenaged Xerxes among the boys around the Professor and his jaw all but dropped in shock.
Dumbledore came to stand beside him, just as Tom spoke. Harry listened intently, not just to what Tom said, but to how he said things. He seemed to be overly flattering and the Professor even commented on it. Harry did find out that the yellow cubes were pieces of sugared pineapple, however. It seemed that even at this young age Tom seemed to be overly informed of everything and everyone around him. He always seemed to know too much.

‘…I confidently expect you to rise to Minister for Magic within twenty years. Fifteen if you keep sending me pineapple. I have excellent contacts at the Ministry.’

Harry almost sneered at that. Who was this Professor who was promising such? Where was he now? It seemed almost questionable that he had a group of young, impressionable boys around him, promising them such high stations of office in exchange for gifts. It seemed like exploitation to him and he didn’t like it. He would have to ask Lucius about it…or actually, seeing as Xerxes was part of the group, perhaps it would be better to ask him about this strange Professor.

‘I don’t know that politics would suit me, sir.” Tom replied. “I don’t have the right kind of background, for one thing.’

Harry’s eyes narrowed. So these boys knew that he was raised as a Muggle, which meant that Xerxes knew…did they know that his Father was a Muggle, or had he lied from the off about that and just claimed ignorance of the magical world using the orphanage as an excuse. That would be something he’d have to find out too.
That the boys, including Xerxes, all smirked at one another, Harry was almost sure that they knew something about Tom being related to Salazar Slytherin. Perhaps he’d even shown them that he could speak Parseltongue as proof, or perhaps wearing the Gaunt ring was enough to prove to them that he was at least related to a Pureblood line, even one as grossly inbred, impoverished and dilapidated as the Gaunts had become.
A clock in the memory chimed and Harry wondered where this was going as the boys all moved as the Professor shooed them away. He hid his smirk at the shot at Xerxes however… ‘Lestrange, I want your essay by tomorrow or it’s detention.’ He was going to enjoy teasing Xerxes over that.
Things became clearer to him when the boys all moved off, except for Tom Riddle. Then the real reason he was being shown this memory became clear when Tom started questioning his rather uncomfortable seeming Professor about Horcruxes. Harry frowned automatically at the unfamiliar term.

‘No…well…you’d be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that’ll give you details about Horcruxes, Tom. That’s very Dark stuff, very Dark indeed.’ The Professor insisted, but he was weak to Tom and Harry frowned harder. Why was that? Did this Professor have a soft spot for teenaged boys? Was that why he was no longer teaching at Hogwarts? Now he was going to have to find out who this Professor was and owl Xerxes, if he had been groomed at Hogwarts by a Professor, if all those boys in this memory had, then it was no wonder that he had such a close bond to Voldemort, that they all had such a close bond to Voldemort, if they had all suffered through the same abuses by the hand of one perverted Professor.

Harry focused more on the memory, leaving those thoughts for later, he would only get to see this memory once, he needed to absorb all he could from it as Riddle laid out his careful flattery, the slight hesitance in his voice, and the Professor just opened like a book, a rather reluctant book, but he still told Riddle all that he needed to know, with just a few flattering comments and a faux look of innocent curiosity…it made Harry question himself, just who was grooming who here as he sensed Riddle’s excitement under his carefully controlled mask. Harry knew all about those, what with wearing one while in the Wizengamot meetings himself.

‘Well you split your soul, you see and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then even if one’s body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But, of course, existence in such a form, few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable.’

Harry watched the Professor’s face crumple at the thought and Harry himself remembered Voldemort’s words from years before.

‘I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost…but still, I was alive.’

Harry saw the ardent hunger on Riddle’s face and he knew then, this was what Voldemort had done and this Professor had told him how to do it as Riddle pressed him for details, and he caved easily. He had a Horcrux. Something that was holding a part of his soul safe to keep him alive. That was how he had survived that Halloween night…no one knew how Harry had survived the killing curse, but now he knew how Voldemort had survived the rebounded curse…the Horcrux. A piece of his soul, a fragment of himself lingering behind, keeping him safe from true death.

‘How do you split your soul?’ Tom asked, the longing on his face clear to see now, the Professor looked very uncomfortable, but still, as he had caved before, he caved again, and he told Tom all he needed to know about splitting one’s soul with an act of evil. By committing murder.

It made Harry think back to Rowle…had he in fact split his own soul? Was it, right now, metaphorically in two halves? Or did it not count as he hadn’t set out to murder Rowle? Did it not count as it was self-defence? Would his soul even know the difference between murder, manslaughter or self-defence, or would it treat them all as one, all as an act of murder? Perhaps he would have to actually feel that the death was a murder before the act of soul splitting took place, he just didn’t know enough to understand. He would have to research this very rare, obscure branch of magic a little more in-depth, it seemed, especially if Dumbledore wanted him to learn of Horcruxes, for what else could these lessons be pointing to other than destroying Voldemort’s Horcruxes and finally destroying the man.

‘Merlin’s beard, Tom!’ The Professor all but yelped, tuning Harry back into the memory. ‘Seven! Isn’t it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case…bad enough to divide the soul…but to rip it into seven pieces…’

The Professor looked disturbed now, deeply troubled as he gazed at Tom as if he had never seen him properly before in his life. Harry could already see the regret on his face, that one of his boys was not who he thought he was, or perhaps for caving in so easily and telling him exactly what he needed to know when it seemed that this Horcrux business was so monstrous and vile. Yet still he had caved and had told a teenaged boy about such things. It was this Professor’s fault that Riddle knew how to make a Horcrux, seemingly how to make seven of them, if Harry was following the thoughts of memory Tom correctly. He might have been able to find the information out via other means, but perhaps he never would have found the right way to do so if he hadn’t been told the steps of making a Horcrux in the first place.

‘Of course, this is all hypothetical, what we’re discussing, isn’t it? All academic…’ The Professor said almost hopefully and Harry cursed him for a complete fool if he even halfway believed what he was saying.

‘Yes, sir, of course.’ Riddle said quickly. Too quickly in Harry’s opinion.

‘But all the same, Tom…keep it quiet, what I’ve told…that’s to say, what we’ve discussed. People wouldn’t like to think that we’ve been chatting about Horcruxes. It’s a banned subject at Hogwarts, you know…Dumbledore’s particularly fierce about it…’

‘I won’t say a word, sir.’ Riddle promised and he left, but Harry saw his face as he turned, full of the same wild, unrestrained happiness he had worn when he’d found out he was a wizard at the orphanage, a happiness that made him seem less than human and Harry hated the Professor in the memory, who had told Riddle about Horcruxes, who had told him how to make them, the steps he’d need to follow, and then told him to keep it quiet. He should never have told him in the first place.

“Thank you, Harry. Let us go.” Dumbledore said, gaining his attention.

Harry sat heavily in the chair back in Dumbledore’s office and he tried to control his breathing.

“I have been waiting for this piece of evidence for a very long time.” Dumbledore told him. “It confirmed the theory on which I have been working, it tells me that I am right, and also how very far there is still to go…”

Harry breathed heavier and his hands clenched into fists, but he said nothing.

“I am sure you understood the significance of what you have just seen. At the same age as you are now, give or take a few months, Tom Riddle was doing all he could to find out how to make himself immortal.”

“No one is truly immortal.” Harry said thoughtfully. “If he does have a Horcrux, or seven as he mentioned in that memory, and that was how he survived after he attacked me, then, from my understanding of what I’ve just heard, if they are destroyed, then he can be destroyed too. The only question really is, how many and where are they now. Did he truly make seven of them and what did he use to encase them in?”

Dumbledore looked at him in a new light, almost like that professor had looked at Tom, and Harry pulled his mask back to cover his thoughts and feelings.

“Four years ago, I received what I considered certain proof that Voldemort had split his soul and made a Horcrux.”

“Where did you find it?” Harry asked.

“You handed it to me, Harry.” Dumbledore said and Harry’s mind went into overdrive, back four years ago, to his second year. “The…”

“The diary.” He said with a shock he couldn’t hide. “It was strange from the start, that diary, it was his diary, Tom Riddle’s. That wasn’t an enchantment upon it, was it?”

“No, it was something much more sinister than an enchantment, Harry, to be able to sap the life from a young girl whose hands it had fallen into. To be able to think and act for itself? No, it was a Horcrux, a part of Tom Riddle’s soul lived in that diary. What intrigued and alarmed me most was that the diary had been intended as a weapon as much as a safeguard.”

“I don’t understand, how?” Harry asked.

“It worked as a Horcrux is supposed to work, in other words, the fragment of soul concealed inside it was kept safe and had undoubtedly played its part in preventing the death of its owner. But there could be no doubt that Riddle really wanted that diary read, wanted the piece of his soul to inhabit or possess somebody else, so that Slytherin’s monster would be unleashed again.”

Harry frowned. “That’s all conjecture though, he didn’t hand that diary to anyone himself. So perhaps he only intended for it to be a safeguard, and not a weapon, but if it was to be found, then why not kill two birds with one stone and make it so that his Slytherin heritage was found out, as he couldn’t take credit for unleashing the Basilisk at the time.”

“Quite correct, but don’t you see, Harry, that if he intended for this particular Horcrux to be passed on to, or planted on, some future Hogwarts student, so that the chamber could be opened once more, then he was being remarkably blasé about that precious fragment of his soul, which was concealed within it. The point of a Horcrux is, as Professor Slughorn explained, to keep part of the self hidden and safe, not to fling it into somebody else’s path and run the risk that they might destroy it. As indeed happened: that particular fragment of soul is no more; you saw to that.
The careless way in which Voldemort regarded this Horcrux seemed most ominous to me. It suggested that he must have made, or had been planning to make, more Horcruxes, so that the loss of the first would not be so detrimental. I did not wish to believe it, but nothing else seemed to make sense.”

Harry listened carefully to what was being said and he fit more pieces of the puzzle together. The entire thing, the whole bigger picture, it all made sense now, with the addition of the information about Horcruxes. Seven of them, Voldemort had seven of them…six if you discounted the ruined diary.

“How can we possibly find all of the Horcruxes that he has? They could be anything, be hidden anywhere!” Harry said through his teeth. “It is an impossible task!”

“If we take the theory that he split his soul seven ways, one part resides inside his body, the one that will need to be destroyed last. But you have already destroyed one Horcrux, Harry. The diary, and I have destroyed another.”

“You have?” Harry said, faking a bit of relief, but truly he was thinking, hard and quickly.

Dumbledore nodded and he reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out a small box. Inside the box was Marvolo Gaunt’s ring…the ring that Riddle had been wearing in the memory he had just seen. The black stone was cracked, straight down the middle.

“How did you find it?” Harry asked with a frown, his mind working even harder.

“I have made it my business for many years to discover as much as I can about Voldemort’s past life. I have travelled widely, visiting those places he once knew. I stumbled across the ring hidden in the ruin of the Gaunts’ house. It seems that once Voldemort had succeeded in sealing a piece of his soul inside it, he did not want to wear it anymore.”

“Of course not.” Harry interrupted. “He would be handing a piece of his soul to whomever was attacking him. You could take out the Horcrux and him. Of course he would have hidden it.”

“Yes, he concealed it in the Gaunt shack with powerful enchantments, never guessing that anyone would want to go there, that I would one day trouble to visit the ruins. However, if we are right with our seven-part soul theory, four Horcruxes remain.”

“His trophies.” Harry sighed as it clicked into place. “The locket, the cup, the ring, his own diary. He was using his trophies. The locket and the cup, he killed Hepzibah Smith for them…did he actually make them into Horcruxes with her death? Or did it require two deaths? So if he made one of them into a Horcrux, where would he had hidden it?”

“Thus you see the magnitude of the problem.”

Harry rubbed his forehead. “If he went after objects belonging to the founders, and he found something of Slytherin’s and something of Hufflepuff’s…can we assume that Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were on the list too?”

“Yes. Yes we can.” Dumbledore said proudly. “I am not sure if he ever found anything of Ravenclaw’s. I am, however, very confident that the only known relic of Gryffindor remains safe.” He said, pointing to the sword in its glass case behind him.

“Are you sure it was the only relic?” Harry asked. “Could he not have found something else, anything else?”

“He might have done, but I do not believe so.”

“That leaves one missing Horcrux.” Harry said frowning, thinking back to the memories he had seen, and to the notes he had taken.

“I think I know what the sixth Horcrux is. I wonder what you will say when I confess that I have been curious for a while about the behaviour of the snake, Nagini.”

“The snake?!” Harry turned his head sharply. “Can you even use animals as a vessel for a piece of a human soul?”

“It is inadvisable to do so. To place a piece of your soul into something that can think and act for itself is obviously a rather risky business. However, if I believe that I am right, then Voldemort was still one Horcrux short when he entered your parents’ house, intent on killing you. It seems that he saved the process of making Horcruxes for particularly significant deaths and you would have certainly been that.”

“Because of the prophecy.” Harry said angrily, his jaw clenched. “He thought that by killing me, he was preventing it from ever happening, when instead he fulfilled it, or at the least set it into motion in the first place.”

“Indeed. As we know, he failed to kill you. Some years later, he used Nagini to kill an old Muggle man, and it is my belief that it then occurred to him to turn her into his last Horcrux. Being a snake, she underlines the connection to Slytherin and he is as fond of her as he can be of anything; he certainly likes to keep her close.”

Harry breathed deeply through his nose. “The ring and the diary are destroyed. That leaves the cup, the locket, the snake and either something of Ravenclaw’s or of Gryffindor’s, or something else of equal magical history if he didn’t manage to find either.”

Harry lifted a hand to his hair and tugged on it, chewing his lower lip as he did so, thinking hard.

“Is that where you go when you leave the school?” He finally asked. “Looking for where he might have hidden those objects? If we have assumed correctly and that is what we are even looking for?”

“Yes, Harry.” Dumbledore said. “I have been looking for a very long time. I think, perhaps, I may be close to finding another. There are hopeful signs. A location that Voldemort once knew, concealed magic…”

“And if you do.” Harry said quickly. “Can I come with you and help to get rid of it?”

Harry got that same look from Dumbledore again, an intent look, as if he was being closely screened and measured. “Yes, I think so.”

“I can?” Harry asked, thrown for a moment, as he had fully expected to be denied and that he would have an argument on his hands…he had gotten rather good at debating his point after all.

“I believe that you have earned that right.”

Harry chewed on his lip once more. “Father won’t like it, so I would appreciate it if he weren’t told.” He said slowly, carefully. “I am still recovering and I am still on potions. He has asked that I be careful with my health, and to limit any strenuous activities. I do not think that this would class as either. The less he knows about this, the more I can enjoy my summer in freedom, and not locked up in my room like a tearaway toddler.”

“If that is what you want, Harry.” Dumbledore said graciously, but Harry could almost sense how pleased he was that Harry wanted to keep this a secret from Lucius Malfoy. It was not, however, entirely for Dumbledore’s benefit…he needed a bargaining chip, something to hold over Voldemort. He now knew about his Horcruxes, when it seemed that there were only three people in the world who did, Voldemort himself, Dumbledore…and him. Moreover, he knew exactly how much Dumbledore knew about those Horcruxes and what he believed them to be. It needed to come from his mouth though, not Lucius’, not Xerxes’, but his, or he would lose all sway, because he would want something in return…Lucius and Xerxes would pass it along freely, because they served Voldemort and they wouldn’t dare ask for anything in return for the information.

“Will he know? Does Voldemort feel when a Horcrux is destroyed?”

“A very interesting question, Harry. I believe that he doesn’t, that these most crucial parts of himself have been detached for so long, he does not feel as we do. Perhaps at the moment of death he will be aware of the loss…but he was not aware, for instance, that the diary had been destroyed.”

“But…he didn’t have a body then.” Harry pointed out. “He didn’t get his body until the ritual in the graveyard two years later. Could that not factor into his inability to feel their destruction? Could he actually feel anything while living as a spirit?”

Dumbledore looked a little stunned at that piece of insight, but he recovered well.

“I am not sure, Harry. But I know that he also did not react to the destruction of the ring, which was destroyed in the summer, when he did have a body.”

Harry nodded once to show his understanding. “I can’t even begin to comprehend the vileness that he’s done.” He said after a time. “Six significant murders, to his mind, to make seven pieces of his soul, and you’re not even sure what the vessels are. The cup and the locket are possible certainties, the snake too, but what did Ravenclaw leave behind? Was there anything more of Gryffindor’s besides the sword? Did he even find anything of theirs and if he didn’t what would he have used in their place? Did he perhaps find two relics of Slytherin and use that too? It isn’t very much to go on, we are chasing after the wind!”

“We must not lose heart, Harry. It is the only way to destroy him for good.”

Harry breathed in and he nodded. “An impossible task then, you will let me know when you have found the next Horcrux?”

Dumbledore nodded.

“Then I need to get some sleep and I fear it will be a long time coming tonight with all that I have been given to think about.”

“Of course. Remember to speak to no one about this.”

Harry nodded as he stood. “I don’t want anyone knowing of this. It is better if it is done quietly.”

His mind was racing as he left the Headmaster’s office and he hurried his steps back to his rooms. He needed to write all of this information down, all of the memory, which prompted his little mental note to contact Xerxes about that questionable Professor, Slughorn. Why was he no longer teaching at Hogwarts? Was it something as easy as retirement, or was it anything a little more sinister. He needed to know.
He made it back to his rooms and he set his small kettle to boiling, dumping a teabag into a mug before going to his coffee table and unearthing his notes of the meetings with Dumbledore. He wrote all of the information he had received down in one massive clump that almost had his hand cramping…his fingers and the side of his right hand were covered in black ink.
He made himself tea, sat down with it and then stared at the information overload he’d gotten today. He couldn’t believe that something so vile as Horcruxes actually existed, but at least he now knew why Voldemort kept popping up, why he wouldn’t actually die. He was as immortal as immortal got, but even then it wasn’t true immortality, because if the Horcruxes were destroyed, you were vulnerable once more to true death.
He sighed and gulped the tea, staring at the several sheaves of parchment in front of him. At least now he knew why Voldemort was collecting relics of the founders, it made his plan to take the sword of Gryffindor all the more important…and he knew that after the meeting tonight that the suspicion would fall even heavier upon himself when it was discovered missing. He would need to be ready for that when it eventually happened. Because of his ties to Lucius Malfoy he would automatically be implicated in the theft of the sword, with good reason too as he was going to be the one to take it, but he would need to be ready to throw the suspicion off of himself and onto someone else, especially if he was to go hunting for a Horcrux with Dumbledore really soon. He would not be taken along if his loyalty or motives were called into question. He would be ready for whatever came his way…he had, after all, gotten much better at hiding behind a mask recently.

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Severus Snape tried to keep his mind on marking the large stack of homework in front of him, but he found it rather difficult to remain focused on what he was doing.
The reason for his lack of attention was his thoughts on Harry Potter, or rather how he was being charged by the Dark Lord to protect the boy in the school, and how he was charged by Dumbledore to spy on his long-time friends, the Malfoys. The same Malfoys who had asked him to watch out for Potter and his health while he was taking his, rather strong and severe, potions.
Potter himself seemed to be completely fine. Severus noticed the slight pinching of the face during the mornings, caused by the bone strengthening potion that he was taking which caused severe headaches, and he did notice the slight drowsiness in the afternoons, after he had taken the calcium potion at lunch, both of which were normal side effects of the potions that he was taking and to be fully expected. But other than the slight tells that could be overlooked easily, Potter was his usual self…well, the usual self that the Malfoys had meticulously crafted. Potter had had to cut down on his work load, which meant that Severus had to grit his teeth and set him simple pieces of work that would more suit someone two years younger than Potter was, instead of the two rolls of parchment per essay that he expected from his NEWT level students, but it was a small sacrifice compared to the rather serious nature of Potter’s overall health issues.
He still couldn’t believe that the boy was so severely ill, nor that it had been caused by abuse while he was just a child. It brought up all sorts of odd feelings that Severus would rather not associate with Potter, but regardless, that was what was happening.
Putting the latest scribble that someone was trying to pass off as an essay to one side, Severus took a moment to breathe deeply to calm himself. Since Lucius had charged him with looking after Harry, followed up a few months later by the Dark Lord charging him with looking after the boy, he had kept a closer eye upon him.
It was how he was able to notice the slight shifts in mood or temperament brought on by the side effects of the potions that he was taking. Of course, now that he knew exactly which potions Potter was taking, it was much easier to discern the cause of such swings of mood and to diagnose the side effects more accurately. He had not revealed what Potter was taking to Dumbledore.
Oh the man had asked, but Severus had told him that there were too many potions that had such side effects for him to be sure and that Lucius was keeping what was ailing Harry as a closely guarded secret. It had frustrated the man, he could tell, but Severus had remained still and stoic behind his defence of the side effects being too vague and ambiguous and that there was nothing more that he could do without arousing suspicion from Lucius or straight out asking Potter what he was taking himself.
He sometimes regretted the direction that his life had taken him because of the choices that he had made. Lily had been everything to him and in the end he had pushed her away because she’d seen him in such a vulnerable, humiliated position. Hindsight was always a curse, and as he looked back on that day, on the memory that had truly ruined the one good thing that he had had in his life, he could think of a thousand better ways that he could have handled that situation, one of them even included the death of Black and Potter, but it hadn’t happen in such a way, though both Potter and Black were now dead, leaving their legacy behind in the form of Harry. Harry who had been abused so severely that he might have died if his condition hadn’t been found soon enough.
It was all very hard to swallow and to come to terms with the knowledge that Harry Potter had all but switched sides. He had declared himself neutral and in doing so, he had condemned those of the Order of the Phoenix to fighting a war that they couldn’t possibly hope to ever win.
Severus had had to subtly switch sides yet again too, without alerting Dumbledore that he had done so, and without alerting the Dark Lord that he had even switched sides in the first place. It was a lot of stress to juggle and any small, slight mistake could cost him his very life.
Taking another deep breath, he picked up another essay written by a complete dunderhead who had obviously understood incredibly little about the lesson he had given.
He did sometimes wonder why he had been pushed into teaching when the one thing that he hated the absolute most was disgusting little children. Oh he knew that Dumbledore had pushed it upon him to keep him close, to watch him as often as humanly possible as he only went back to his own home in Spinner’s End during the summer.
Oh how he despised children. He usually only looked forward to his NEWT level students, because he demanded only Outstanding OWL students, thus they were very committed to their Potions work and were often very competent brewers. This year, and the next, he was forced to put up with Granger and Potter in his classroom. Potter was much better attitude wise since Lucius had taken the reins of him, but he still looked like a clone of his Father, only further enhanced when he was looking down into his cauldron or at his ingredients and his eyes couldn’t be seen. Lily’s eyes. He didn’t know which was worse, not seeing those eyes and seeing a clone of James Potter sat in his classroom, or looking into those eyes and seeing Lily.
Granger was another matter entirely. She was such a busybody and such a know-it-all that she was nearly insufferable in the classroom. He tried to engage the children, despite the fact that he didn’t much like them, but it was always Granger who answered, Granger who thrust her hand up, all but dancing on her feet and then, unable to control herself, she would blurt the answer out before he called upon her, not even allowing her classmates a chance to think for themselves or the time that they needed to come to the correct answer by themselves. That was why he couldn’t stand having her in his classroom and he had to grit his teeth every time she spoke out of turn or blurted out a stream of information like a text book. He wanted to wrap his fingers around her throat and squeeze until her eyes bulged out and her mouth stopped spewing information on tap.
He took another breath and put aside another essay that was covered in his spiky corrections in red ink and he picked up another one.
He was wasted stuck in this teaching position. He should be in his own Potion’s lab, brewing and experimenting as he had done in his youth, finding out ways to make better potions, to get the most out of the ingredients, hunting down rare and unusual ingredients, finding out their properties and calculating their unique qualities and uses so that they could be used in newly developed potions.
He shouldn’t be stuck in this castle full of bad memories and the ghost of Lily Potter in every room, teaching bratty children who didn’t even understand the subtleties and the power of potions, let alone how to correctly prepare and brew them. It was devastating to watch them flounder and fail purely because they were too stupid to read the instructions or hadn’t learnt the basic properties of the ingredients that they were using. He hated it here. He hated teaching. He just really hated children in general.
He put aside yet another essay full of random drivel that didn’t even make sense, now covered in red ink marks from his quill with a ‘D’ scrawled into the top corner and he picked up yet another essay from the endless stack of them, dipped his quill into his red ink and prepared for yet another mind numbing read.
He had to get away from this castle, he needed to get away from the children and he needed to be on his own, by himself, developing potions in his own lab. This endless, mindless teaching was going to drive him slowly into madness and he could no longer put up with it. He would wait one more year, until Potter had graduated and he would no longer have to look out for him for Lucius or the Dark Lord. He would be free then to stop teaching, he would be free to leave this castle and he would be free to pursue a life of brewing and developing potions, as he had always wanted. Just one more year, then he could be free of teaching, free of this castle and free of all the filthy children inhabiting it.

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A/N: I’m very pleased with this chapter, and with Harry’s objective look at Slughorn, as looking at that memory from the outside, without knowing who Slughorn was or about the Slug Club, it is definitely rather questionable that he traded connections for gifts with teenaged children. I rather enjoyed that little addition and I can’t wait now for Xerxes to receive Harry’s delicate, probing letter. That’ll be hilarious.
Nina: No, Voldemort’s interest in Harry will never just disappear. He is very much trying to turn Harry from neutral to ally, but if neutral is all he will get, he’s willing to settle for it, though he’ll never give up trying to recruit Harry…everything will change when it comes to light that Harry himself is a Horcrux.

This is it for now, lovelies. Chapter 20 will be posted either next week or the week after I think, depending on how quickly I can finish it, but it’s already 10,000 words, so we’ll see, but I am aiming to get it posted before the end of March, so I’ll see you all very soon and I hope that you’ve all enjoyed this chapter,

StarLight Massacre. X
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The Guile and Devotion of a Black Heir