'Dear Harry,
I hope you're doing alright. You haven't told me anything about the plans for your summer apart from that you are leaving for Greece (when is that, by the way?) so I have no idea whom you're staying with or if I shall even see you at all before you leave.
Since I know next to nothing, I will tell you about my summer so far. As you know, I'm staying at Greengrass Manor with my parents and Astoria (see, you know who I spend it with). Although, Blaise and Aunt Camilla came yesterday and will live with us for the foreseeable future. Normally, I wouldn't tell anyone about this but I guess you will understand it better than most, since you're at the centre of the brewing war.
Auntie killed some of the Death Eaters who had visited her for recruitment, but her home was ruined in the process. Isn't that fun? Now she is here, trying to subtly rile up Dad, whilst Mother has abandoned all forms of subtlety and tries to rile him up directly. At least the house is extra lively these days.
As for us - Blaise and I, as well as Astoria to a lesser degree - spend most of our time training with Dad. Since I am your girlfriend, I can't really escape the attention. I have been tutored in DADA and duelling by Dad every summer since we first started Hogwarts, but we're getting trained much harder this time around. Maybe I will be able to finally beat you after the summer, who knows… Actually, scratch that thought. You're going to Greece for private tutoring by some famous Battle Mage, no? If that's the case, I have almost no chance.
Anyway, you promised to write to me, so I'm expecting a prompt answer. I'd love to hear from you.
Yours always,
Daphne'
X
'Can you explain to me why you're writing a formal letter in the notebook?'
X
'Whatever do you mean?'
X
'… the messages are instantaneous. You don't need to write mail, despite the fact I find it adorable. You can just tell me hi and I'll respond.'
X
…
'Shut up.'
X
'I can also write a formal letter as if I had used Hedwig to mail you, if you'd want. It would help cover everything you asked.'
X
'Ohhh noooo, why would you do that? The messages are instantaneous and we don't need to write essays here because mister Golden Boy said no.'
X
'How did you manage to convey a petulant pout through words?'
X
'I'm a witch of many talents, Mister Potter.'
X
'Should I be scared, girlfriend?'
X
'You're getting me dragged through a war, all because you have a cute pair of eyes. It's only fair I pay you back in some form.'
X
'If that's the way I'm getting paid back, then don't stop paying me back. It's adorable.'
X
'Shut up.'
X
Harry chuckled as he set aside the notebook after a promise of delivering a full letter later in the day.
A week had passed since his admittedly cathartic visit to the Dursleys. Despite the war with the resurrected Dark Lord looming above their lives like a dark cloud, Harry felt uncharacteristically light. There was a certain spring in his step as he moved through his everyday life, a product of closure and lessened burdens. Steady progress was being made on all fronts, whether it was the progress made by the Order of The Phoenix in the war, or his own progress as a wizard.
The Animagus ritual was fully underway. Sirius had all but dragged him to the cellars the moment he returned from Hogwarts, all for the purpose of beginning the ritual before the next full moon on the first of August. Now he only had to keep the Merlin forsaken mandrake leaf attached to the roof of his mouth for the rest of July.
Thankfully, Sirius had taught a spell to Harry to keep the leaf stuck there. Now if only there was a way to ignore the texture and slightly bitter taste of the leaf.
With a sigh of contentment - a product of his living arrangements - he got ready for his day. At some point, Moody barged into the room with the purpose of violently waking him up (again) - an attempt that bore no fruit, as Harry, wide awake and observing him with a raised eyebrow, caused him to stalk out of the room, grumbling about smug teenagers.
The rest of his morning had gone as usual. A warm and lavish breakfast provided by Narcissa had filled him with energy. Energy that was subsequently spent with Sirius teaching him some odd Black family spells before he left for his training in Greece. Regulus was still resting, Kreacher was still oddly hyper and Walburga's portrait was still unbearably loud, although quieter than she had been the year before with Regulus' return.
As the evening slowly came upon them, Sirius found Harry in the drawing room, penning a long letter.
"How's the girl doing?" Sirius asked airily as he tried to snoop on the letter's contents.
The golden notebook was shut with an audible thud, as Harry turned his gaze to look at his godfather.
"She's doing great, I'll send her your regards when you get cleared of your charges. How's the bachelor life treating you?" Harry asked sarcastically, as he stood to stretch his stiff legs.
"I'll have you know that in my time-"
"Of course, old man, I often forget that you witnessed the birth of Hogwarts, what with you being ancient, and all."
Sirius' mouth snapped shut. Harry could see the subtle movements of his jaw as he worked up a response. "I often forget that you're that witty."
"Good thing I remind you often," Harry said with a bright smile. "Are we ready for Diagon, then?"
"Yeah, I just came to collect you. You'll be the one apparating us this time."
"Right," the young wizard responded, smoothing out his black robes as he did so. "Dog up."
With a grumble Sirius turned into his animagus form. Before he could realise what had happened, the uncomfortable feeling of side-along apparition engulfed his being before he found himself staring at a grimy wall.
'How many times do I have to tell you to tell me before you apparate us?'
That's what Sirius had tried to say, but all Harry heard was a series of barks that sounded awfully close to whines. A simple smirk was his reaction as he exited the apparition point and into the alley proper.
As he took in the state of the shops and buildings around him, Harry couldn't help but be thankful that Voldemort had ended up as damaged as he had during the events of the Battle of the Ministry, as the press had dubbed it. His injured state had led to reduced Death Eater activity and increased public morale. Thus, the witches and wizards of Wizarding Britain were not yet cowed under the threat of war, merilly going on with their daily lives. Shops were experiencing growth, the streets were packed and the excitement for the summer holidays was at an all time high.
Unfortunately, all of the above had culminated in an even higher popularity boost for Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Boy-Who-Had-Brought-The-Dark-Lord-To-His-Knees (Sirius couldn't get over that specific title.)
Or, as he was more commonly known nowadays, the Chosen One.
"It's him!"
"It's Potter! Harry Potter's here!"
"The Chosen One!"
"Mum! Mum! Can we get an autograph?"
The moment Harry made his presence known in the alley, people ran over themselves, trying to approach him and make way for him at the same time. The very same people who had likely been vilifying his very name only several months prior.
'Hypocrites.'
"Make way, people!" A familiar voice boomed from the side of the street where a large, closed building was situated.
"He's here for us and you'd best not make him late!" A nearly identical and equally familiar voice continued and people spread apart, revealing the smiling faces of the Weasley Twins. Behind them was a large sign with three Ws painted bright orange covering a large, purple double door.
Harry hastily made his way towards the twins with the dog animagus pacing behind him.
"You do know that my mere presence at your shop will bring more people in, right?" Harry whispered the moment he reached the twins.
"Yes," they both chorused.
"We could make it worse, if you want," one of them - George, Harry recognised - said.
"With your permission, of course," the other supplied.
"Go for it. I have all of this undue fame, might as well put it to use," the raven-haired wizard replied with a shrug. George grinned mischievously before walking forward.
"Move along, people! The sponsor of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes is here to discuss important matters with us!"
"He's a very busy man and it won't do us any good to waste his time further." Fred continued as he joined his twin. The crowd started to disperse even as they started chatting with excitement.
"Did you have to make it so overly dramatic?" Harry said with a sigh.
"Big advertisements require big announcements," Fred said.
"Too right, Forge. Then the big advertisements bring big crowds."
"Big crowds bring big profits."
"You're more than capable of bringing big crowds and earning big profits without my name thrown in," Harry deadpanned as they entered the closed off building.
"Oh we know. Our merchandise will keep the big crowds. You just made it easier to have them coming early."
"Besides, big profits for us means big profits for you, Harry-kins."
He did not deign to answer that last bit as they ventured inside the nearly complete shop. Suddenly, Sirius returned to his real appearance.
"This place looks incredible, kids," the roguish wizard commented what was both on his and Harry's minds.
"Quite a lot of work, I assure you. Thankfully we also have three very capable assistants."
"Great help, they are."
"But neither of you should be interested in our common wares," one of the twins said as they reached a blank stretch of wall. Both twins raised their wands and tapped them on the wall, causing it to disappear, revealing another section of the store behind it.
Harry's eyes widened as he took in the sight of row upon row of clothes, armour and odd devices, all neatly sorted. There were rows of capes, hats and other wizardwear that shined dully in the light. George called them shieldwear, enchanted with basic shield charms to protect aurors as they responded to attacks.
Next to them lay a row of circular discs, around a metre in diameter and covered in what looked like dragon hide.
"These over there?" George continued as he pointed to a shelf with small round objects with tiny legs and what looked like old car horns. "Decoy Detonators. They walk around aimlessly for ten seconds, making a cacophony of noise before exploding."
"We were trying to make it multiply but can't quite figure it out."
"Finally, our piece de resistance," Fred spoke up, "the camouflage cloaks. They're enchanted with a disillusionment charm, as well as scent and sound blocking charms. They won't match true invisibility cloaks, especially yours, but we figure they'll be good enough for covert missions or for people to hide during attacks."
"Why all of this?" Harry asked, completely flabbergasted.
"We're not blind, Harry-kins."
"We are at war."
"The only reason we can't quite see it yet is thanks to your performance at the Ministry."
"People are so upbeat thanks to you, Chosen One."
"Yes, quite. So we are trying to do our part."
"We have weaponised our brilliance."
"For the benefit of the Order and aurors, of course."
"This is incredible," Sirius mumbled from another shelf that had what looked like pitch black fireworks. "You're doing a great job. Honestly."
"We humbly thank you, oh Padfoot of the Marauders," the twins choroused with an exaggerated bow.
"You never told me about these plans. I could have helped," Sirius said. "I can still help, actually. We can use my old notes from our Hogwarts days, and I'd say I'm still not half bad at Runes and Arithmancy. It would be better than waiting for my trial, just stuck at Grimmauld."
"It would be our honour," Fred said humbly.
"With the house tour out of the way," George said slowly as he turned to Harry. "What brings you to Diagon?"
"Just doing some last minute shopping," Harry said with a shrug. "I've got to be ready for my trip tomorrow."
"Oh it's already time?" Fred asked.
"Yeah. Dumbledore came over yesterday and gave me a Portkey for Greece leaving early tomorrow morning."
"Five A.M. isn't early morning. Only the dead are awake at that Merlin forsaken hour," Sirius scoffed lightly.
"I must have been dead for the better part of my life, then," Harry said with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Anyway, we were meant to be visiting Tattings and Olivander's."
As Harry said his destinations, a rumble was heard and two holes opened up on the empty stretch of wall at the far end of the hidden room.
"What?"
"Ahh, that," George said. "We installed some shortcuts around the alley near the more famous shops."
"Passwords are the destinations, obviously, but it works. You'll avoid the majority of your admirers," Fred joked as he pulled Harry towards the openings.
"You return through the same exit by saying 'The Demon Duo are magnificent'."
"Why did you connect your shortcuts to your arsenal?" Harry asked, as he was dragged into the hidden passageway by Fred.
"Don't worry your little head, Harry-kins."
"The shortcut hub will be cut off from the rest of the room the moment we lock it up."
"And it can only be opened with our magical signatures."
"Quite so, Gred."
"Right, hands off now," Harry huffed as he escaped Fred's grip. "Are you sure you guys don't need anything? I can help before I leave."
"Isn't he adorable?" George gushed.
"He still wants to help, even though he practically opened this shop for us!"
"He owns a third of this place and he still thinks he can help without getting anything back!"
"Wait, what?"
"Don't worry your little head, Harry-kins," George said with a grin.
"It would be really shitty of us to ignore our biggest supporter and benefactor."
"That being said, you will know if we need anything we're unable to get."
"For now, simply get your Dogfather to go dog and continue with your shopping."
"Your big day is tomorrow, and it would be awful if we were the cause of your tardiness."
"Why does everyone keep using phrases with 'dog' for my transformation?" Sirius mumbled as he did, in fact, go dog.
Harry let out a long suffering sigh as he eyed the twins. "Fine then. But if you do need anything, owl me."
"Will do," the twins chorused as they waved Harry goodbye before locking down the room. Harry watched in wonder as the bricks shifted around, surrounding the entrance to the passageway, much like the one at the Leaky Cauldron, and cutting it off completely from the rest of the shop. A blue light shimmered momentarily before the wall went back to its ordinary, mundane appearance.
With a slight smile, Harry turned and went through the shortcut to Twilfit and Tattings' with his dogfather at his heel.
X
'I honestly can't write a proper letter.'
X
'Oh why? What's wrong?'
X
'I keep getting distracted by the fact that this isn't a normal letter but rather an ongoing chat.'
X
'And that renders you unable to properly write a letter?'
X
'Yes.'
X
'Huh. I guess you weren't chosen for your writing abilities then.'
X
'Seriously Daphne?'
X
Agony wracked the body of the Malfoy Heir as the Dark Lord summoned his minions once more. His eyes slowly opened from his less than restful sleep. His pale face was sunken, adorned with heavy and dark bags under his eyes. With a weary sigh he lifted himself from his bed.
Absent-mindedly he rubbed his right forearm where his newly christened Dark Mark resided. His mind was once again plagued by thoughts of the bad decisions that had been forced upon him by the father he'd always idolised. Needless to say, the light cast upon his father had dimmed considerably since the events of the Ministry, but his home was no longer a place where he could freely dwell in his own thoughts.
With his father in Azkaban and his mother a turncoat, Draco was the unfortunate Malfoy to bear the Dark Lord's wrath in the aftermath. Now that he was the unofficial Head of House and master of his father's affairs, he saw more truths than would ever make him comfortable. With the golden veil peeled back, Draco laid his eyes upon the darkness; true, unadulterated darkness. Despite his upbringing and blind loyalty to his father, Draco was not naive. It didn't take him long to realise that the Dark Lord was no benevolent and kind master. No, the Dark Lord was a tyrant of the most evil sort, a man who cared for naught but his own agenda. He cared not for his followers, his brethren of the inner circle and sometimes it even seemed that he cared little about the very cause he spearheaded. He didn't know whether it was the defeat at the Ministry that had caused this or not, but it grounded Draco rather violently. He even wondered if all of this was worth it for the Purebloods to rule Magical Britain as they ought to.
As for the Battle of the Ministry, it wasn't a defeat, not really, not to him, but credit was given where credit was due.
Harry Potter had caused the Dark Lord to bleed. He had knocked the Dark Lord to the ground and left him limping, even as Perfect Potter himself was rendered unconscious. The Dark Lord had won their duel - barely - but in the eyes of the public it had been a humiliating defeat at the hands of the teenaged child. Even now, three weeks after the events, the Dark Lord had yet to fully recover.
The injuries merely added to his ire.
With a pained grunt he stood and paid the barest of attention to his appearance - it wasn't like the Dark Lord cared about decorum or anything of the sort - before moving out of his bedroom. His heavy and slow steps moved him automatically towards the dining room.
As he moved, however, a ray of palest moonlight reflected off of another figure moving through the hallway.
"Slept well, dearest nephew?" the grating, mocking voice of his Aunt Bellatrix greeted him. She was another figure that he saw for what she truly was. His father had always claimed - with a slight twitch of fear - that Bellatrix was the epitome of a Pureblood and a Death Eater, utterly devoted to the cause and that all of the Death Eaters should strive to be like her, to share even a shred of her fervour and passion to the cause. Through continuous exposure to her presence, Draco only saw madness instead. Her new prosthetic leg, made of a magical mercury only added to the madness she personified.
Perhaps the Dark Lord had forced his father to sing such false praises, or the mad witch had threatened him to make him do so.
Was his father such a coward?
"Perfectly fine, thank you Auntie," Draco said tiredly, desperately biting back the sneer that had threatened to adorn his face the moment he had called her auntie. It wasn't like he had a choice in the matter.
Bellatrix cooed something incoherent as she ushered him towards the dining room. "You will be a great Death Eater, Draco. I have no doubts that you will surpass your failure of a father," she said with a sneer.
Draco ignored the insult. They were quite frequent, after all. By many different Death Eaters, as well.
As they continued along the wooden hallway, Bellatrix was humming a tune that was horribly without any semblance of rhythm. She only stopped as they reached the double doors of their destination, which opened on their own.
"Bellatrix, Draco," the high-pitched voice of the Dark Lord lazily drifted to their ears, causing Bellatrix to shudder in delight and Draco to stand a bit straighter. "Please, join us."
He let his eyes roam around, taking in the faces of the Death Eaters gathered in what used to be his dining room. The extremely long and polished mahogany table glistened under the pale moonlight, from the ceiling high windows that spanned the length of the room, and it only served to make the massive serpent that was coiled upon the chair at the table's head seem even more intimidating than it already was. Mechanically, he let his feet carry him to his designated seat at the middle of the table as Bellatrix practically rushed to her Lord's side, her metallic leg making an annoying thunk every time it landed on the wooden floor.
As silence descended upon the group, Draco let his eyes wander towards the Dark Lord. He seemed fine - as fine as a monstrosity like him could seem at least - but he would occasionally notice a subtle twitch that coursed through his body. The twitches looked minor at best, but Draco knew better. He had seen Voldemort limping and clutching at his heart on more than one occasion as the tremors wracked his body, a remnant of whatever Potter had cast upon him. More than that, he remembered the howls of agony he had stumbled upon when he returned from Hogwarts - remembering the torture session he had suffered for witnessing such disgrace. It was his first amongst many in the two weeks since he'd returned home. After each session he felt slightly emptier, as if his mind and soul were being whittled away. He was used to the emptiness by this point. How much could any person change in the span of a couple weeks, he idly wondered.
Now, for as long as Voldemort sat at his throne, he could hide his weakness from most of his followers, but as long as his ailment persisted he couldn't make his presence felt across Magical Britain, even after everyone saw him plastered across the front of the Daily Prophet.
At some point during Draco's stay, Bellatrix had brought a golden cup to the Dark Lord and it had spurred his recovery ever since, but Draco had not seen the golden thing again. "Thank you for coming at such short notice, my brothers and sisters," the Dark Lord started with his silver and poisonous tongue. "Our movements have grown slow, but fear not. Place your faith in me, and you shall be rewarded. Let them be content in their ignorance, let them lower their guard and we will strike at the most important targets and make them reconsider our power. We will break the rest of our ranks from Azkaban Prison as I have done before. The Dementors are already at our side, and I shall personally retrieve them when the time comes."
A murmur of approval spread amongst those gathered. Draco remained resolutely silent with his eyes lowered. The meeting droned on to the usual agenda. Questions asked by the Dark Lord about their campaign, answered by the Death Eater who had been questioned. Sometimes the answer was not what the Dark Lord hoped to hear and screams echoed around the room after the Death Eater was subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. Sometimes Bellatrix was the one to deliver the curse and it was always accompanied by cackles and various insults regarding their incompetence. Such things were common during the Dark Lord's meeting Draco had quickly come to gather.
Draco momentarily thought about how that had become his daily life, and wasn't that a disturbing thought?
"Severus," the soft voice of the Dark Lord drifted across the room at some point, as Draco raised his eyes to look at his godfather.
"Yes, my Lord," he answered with his characteristic silky voice, but with a complete lack of vitriol.
"Tell me news of the boy."
"His godfather," Severus spat, "has been rather cagey about the boy. He keeps their affairs hidden from even Dumbledore. One thing I do know is that the boy is set to leave for Greece in three hours."
'Greece? What the hell is Potter looking for in Greece?' Draco idly thought.
"Greece? Why would the boy go there?" the Dark Lord asked lightly. "Apart from avoiding us, that is."
The assortment of Death Eaters laughed nervously at the urging of Bellatrix.
"That, I do not know. I was informed by Dumbledore earlier today that he is leaving via an international Portkey. When I asked the reason behind such a move, he answered with one of his riddles."
"Trust Dumbledore to say nothing with a hundred words," Voldemort sneered in disgust. "No matter. The crux of the matter is that the boy is untouchable for now. I trust he will return to Hogwarts come September?"
"Of course," Severus smoothly replied.
"Good," the Dark Lord said with a subtle nod. "He will be getting some form of training, no doubt. I lived in Greece for a period, they have mighty mages, although lacking compared to me and some of our members. I have underestimated the boy time and time again. This will never happen again. I will admit, I have paid for my arrogance. Next time we meet, I shall bring my full power crashing down upon him and he will die by my hand. I, Lord Voldemort, shall stand victorious with all of you by my side."
Thunderous applause and cheers broke out from the table, but Draco couldn't bring himself to join.
"Let the masses enjoy the insignificant victory of their Chosen One," Voldemort spat with vitriol. "Their despair will be even sweeter when they see him dead at my heel." With Voldemort's speech over, he dismissed the other Death Eaters, who slowly started to filter out of the room.
"Draco, stay behind," Voldemort commanded as he tried to move out of his chair, causing him to quickly sit back down. Soon enough, they were left alone.
"Your mission this year will be hard. Should you fail, you will die alongside your father, and your mother shall become Greyback's slave after she is caught," the Dark Lord started. A feeling of dread pooled in his stomach as he ran through the possibility that the mission would be impossible. He especially shuddered at the thought of the foul half breed laying a hand upon his mother. "Should you succeed, however, your father will keep his miserable life, as will your traitorous mother. You, on the other hand, will take your father's former position as my most trusted, as my right hand man."
At some point in his life - Circe, a month ago, even - such a prospect would have made his blood boil with excitement. Now, it made him feel nothing. All the fervour he had for the Dark Lord and the future he had thought the Dark Lord would bring had died in him over the past few weeks. If the mission was possible, it was a chance to secure his future should the Dark Lord win in the end. If not… Well, his life was no longer his, anyway.
His father saw to that when he offered his family to the Dark Lord.
"You will kill Albus Dumbledore by the end of the school year. You don't have the option of failure," Voldemort said with an evil smile.
Draco could not see the positives in this opportunity that his younger self probably would have. This was a death sentence for him and his family should he fail, yet Draco could not help but linger on the rewards should he succeed. The offer of becoming Voldemort's right hand man, no longer held any interest for him, but no matter how much wrath he silently harboured for his parents - his father for his blind obedience to the tyrant and the failures that caused Draco to shoulder all these burdens, and his mother for abandoning him - he still loved them. He had stopped caring about his life the moment he had realised what the Dark Mark meant, but he still cared about them.
The mission was impossible. But if he was meant to die, he might as well try. For his father, for his mother.
"I will, my Lord."
"Good."
X
'Harry? Can I bother you with something?'
X
'Anything.'
X
'Can you bring me a souvenir from Greece?'
X
'Sure, what do you need?'
X
'A pet hydra.'
X
'...what?'
X
"I believe, Mister Potter, that none of the wands I own suit you," Olivander said in his characteristically cryptic tone. "I also no longer create wands from scratch from customers, as such I'm afraid that I cannot help you."
Harry sighed in defeat as his dogfather nuzzled his nose on his thigh in consolation. "I feared as much, Dumbledore told me so beforehand. I guess I needed to check for myself."
"No fault in you making sure, Mister Potter."
"In any case, thank you Mister Ollivander," Harry said as he turned to leave the store. Stepping outside, he took a deep breath and moved towards the apparition point.
Not even a minute later, both he and Sirius were once more inside the living room of Grimmauld Place.
"So, you're done with everything, right? No last minute shopping?" Sirius asked as they moved towards the dining room.
"Yes. Dobby has everything packed already," Harry said tiredly. "I just hope I find a wand there. No offence to your… father's wand, but it just doesn't feel right."
Sirius shot him a deadpan look, as he tried to think of something to say to comfort Harry, before ultimately settling on silence.
"Sirius!" A woman's voice cried out obscenely loudly from upstairs, causing both of their heads to snap towards the source. Wands were immediately drawn and Sirius cautiously moved towards the stairs.
"Cissy?"
"Reggie is awake!"
"What?"
Before Harry could even process the events transpiring, the roguish wizard had already run up the stairs. With yet another weary sigh, he followed his godfather.
He walked with slow, deliberate steps towards the room Regulus was resting in, observing his surroundings in the process. As always, the halls of Grimmauld Place were grim and dark, even with the lights lit. Macabre decorations littered the estate, many of them still cursed. But, Harry would readily admit that the place at least looked clean nowadays. As if on cue, he noticed the hunched form of Kreacher lurking in the shadows, looking at the ajar door. From the door, voices could be heard talking animatedly.
When he reached the threshold, Kreacher made to move as well. The vile little elf didn't speak, but moved to stand next to Harry as he knocked on the door.
"Come in."
With a slight push, the door opened and revealed his beaming godfather next to his bedridden brother. Narcissa was in an armchair nearby drinking some tea.
"Harry! Meet my brother, Regulus! Reggie, this is my godson, Harry Potter!" Sirius said with a blinding smile.
"Yes, Siri, I'm aware," Regulus grumbled. "I know all about the Boy-Who-Lived."
"You probably don't know that I despise that moniker," Harry said somewhat acerbically with a slight bow. Narcissa smiled warmly at the display of decorum.
"I didn't know, but even a blind man could have figured that out, what with the public's fickle nature," the man responded with a chuckle.
"Sounds like you kept up to date with Britain's gossip," Narcissa commented.
"Of course. I might have been in the States since the incident, but I always kept an eye on the situation. That night on Hallow's Eve, Voldemort fell but I knew he'd be back. He has Horcruxes."
The sound of china breaking was heard at Regulus' statement and Narcissa went white as a sheet of paper.
"What did you say?"
"Yeah, we know," Sirius said and Harry nodded along.
"You knew?"
"We did. I was one of them," Harry said, still nodding along.
"You were what?" Regulus exclaimed incredulously.
"How is that even possible?"
"Voldy fucked up, Cissy," Sirius said.
"We also destroyed one, during my second year. The diary."
Narcissa shot up from her chair. "The diary was a Horcrux?"
"Yes. The Headmaster has managed to retrieve another one, he told me about it before we left Hogwarts for the summer."
"Wait, how many does he have?" Regulus weakly yelled as he slowly lost his colour. He tried to stand up but failed miserably. "Kreacher!"
"Yes, Master Regulus?" the elf asked from Harry's side, completely unbothered by Regulus nearly screaming his name.
"Did you destroy the locket?"
"Kreacher is sorry, Master Regulus!" The elf suddenly wailed but stopped moving the moment Regulus snapped his fingers.
"I don't have time for you to punish yourself. Bring me the locket," the younger Black commanded and Kreacher disappeared with a soft popping sound. Narcissa fell back on the armchair and absentmindedly fixed the broken teacup.
"Let me guess. It's a Horcrux?" Sirius asked with a resigned sigh.
"Yeah. It's why I defected and also the reason why I almost died to retrieve it," Regulus said with a shake of his head. "At first, I followed the Dark Lord because I believed in the movement he was leading. I was in agreement with the ideals behind it. But a man that could create a Horcrux… That man, if he can even be considered that anymore, has no ideals. No morality. I cannot know what he sacrificed for the rituals, but considering he has that many pieces of his soul scattered… he is not someone to follow. He mustn't even be allowed to live.
"When I found the Horcrux thanks to Kreacher and realised what it was, I prepared myself to die to retrieve it. With everything around it that protected it…" A shudder went through Regulus' weak body as he vividly remembered the Inferi-infested lake. "The spell that saved me was Vitam Enim Reddendum."
"Wait," Sirius said seriously. "How did you even use it in the first place? You need a blood sacrifice to cast it."
Regulus simply nodded towards his missing left arm. "Turns out, you don't need another human to meet the requirements. You just… lose whatever you gave up. Permanently."
Sirius simply deflated at that statement, falling backwards onto his chair. As if on cue, Kreacher popped inside the room, right beside Regulus' bed, presenting him with a golden locket held within his tiny, wrinkled hands. "The locket, Master Regulus."
"Thank you, Kreacher," Regulus said quietly as he picked up the object that had almost cost him his life. He raised it above his head, if only to catch a lone ray of the setting sun. The engraved 'S' on the artefact gleamed ominously. "It's indestructible and not because of its properties as a Horcrux. The container itself is masterfully warded. I hit it with a Killing Curse the moment I gained a semblance of clarity, before the thirst became unbearable."
His cryptic words made everyone present curious, but no one dared to ask him about the trials he had endured.
"It didn't even have a scratch in the aftermath. To kill a Horcrux with the Killing Curse, you need to hit the shard of the soul housed within the container. Most Horcruxes have their soul pieces exposed enough that a Killing Curse should work. This one though… it needs to be opened."
As Regulus spoke, telling his theory to them, Harry's eyes remained on the engraving on the front of the locket. The details of the art that graced its door were impeccable; along the letter picked out in emeralds, subtle marks could be seen, giving it the illusion of a snake.
Realisation struck him and his eyes widened.
"I can open the locket."
Three pairs of eyes turned to him, as if coordinated.
"It's related to Slytherin, isn't it?"
"Yes, it must be the fabled locket of Salazar Slytherin," Regulus said with a frown.
"Then it must be opened using Parseltongue," Harry explained as he moved towards the locket. "Voldemort is also a Parselmouth. And if the locket is anything like the Chamber then…"
Harry's expression hardened as he tossed it to the ground.
"Wait, shouldn't we-"
"Open." Harry commanded the locket, channelling his voice into the snakelike speech.
Sirius' objections were drowned out as Harry hissed his command at the locket. With a click that echoed around the room, the locket snapped open and a cloud of darkness burst from the confines of the artefact.
Everyone present was assaulted by the oppressing and dark magic of the Horcrux. Harry's vision swam and his breaths became laboured. His emerald eyes strayed upwards, towards the black cloud and he found two red irises staring back at him. The cloud then morphed, taking the faint shape of a human, but could not complete its coalescence.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Harry's hairs stood on end as the toxic green bolt of magic rushed past him, impacting the open locket. The cloud momentarily froze, as if frozen in time, before a deafening wail issued from the cloud and it slowly dispersed into nothingness. He slowly turned his head towards the source of the spell and saw Regulus with his wand raised and a mad glint in his violet eyes.
Harry couldn't find fault in the expression. That locket was the reason why Regulus had almost died, it was the reason why he had forever lost a part of his body.
It must have been pretty cathartic having the chance to destroy it.
"I think we should all retire for today," Narcissa said slowly as colour steadily returned to her face. "We've all had our fill of action for now."
Harry thought that this was relatively tame compared to his usual adventures, but he knew better than to voice that thought.
X
'How would you even keep a pet hydra? How would you make it a pet in the first place? Do they even exist anymore?'
X
'They exist in the Hydra Reserve. And you're a Parselmouth, I'm certain you can convince a small one to come home with you.'
X
'As you said, I'm the Parselmouth here. Not you.'
X
'I might not have the serpent's tongue, but I have the one who has it.'
X
'Oh, so I'm yours now?'
X
'Obviously.'
X
'Astoria put you up to this, didn't she?'
X
'... obviously.'
x
A piercing scream was heard throughout every corner of the expansive Malfoy Manor as Voldemort wailed in agony.
Everything was going smoothly. His recovery had seemed stable. The comfortable lull he had fallen into only served to make the inconceivable pain he was suddenly feeling all the more unexpected.
The Dark Lord was on his knees inside the drawing room, his left arm on the floor in front of him, giving him much needed stability. Hatred bubbled up inside of him as he panted in exertion.
He absolutely loathed weakness. Pain was one such weakness, despite it serving as a reminder that his vessel was not immortal, only his soul. The very same torn soul that was causing him insurmountable agony thanks to Harry Potter.
Nagini hissed lowly to him, attempting to comfort her master. It only sounded grating to his ears. To think that even his own familiar would try to comfort him, the one above all wizards. That was unacceptable.
The bone white Yew wand shot to his right hand and the Dark Lord roared in defiance to the pain, aiming his wand towards the wall.
A brilliant flash of azure light burst from the yew wand and the wall was blown outwards and disintegrated, the particles left behind getting gently blown away by the wind.
X
'Portkey in five minutes. I'll tell you about the first day tonight.'
X
'Alright. Safe travels and please, take care.
Yours always,
Daphne'
X
"Five more minutes, pup," Sirius said, still bleary eyed from the lack of sleep. It was entirely his own fault that he had slept for less than four hours, but Harry couldn't blame him. If he'd had a brother who he hadn't seen for more than fifteen years, he'd also stay awake until late at night talking with him.
"I know."
"Everything set? You didn't forget anything, did you?"
"Again, yes, I have everything packed," Harry said, rolling his eyes. With a sigh, he snapped the Potter Tome shut, keeping it clutched tightly in his hand.
"Are you sure you can get by with the book as your focus?" Sirius asked sceptically.
"I doubt he'd let me get by without a wand. It would defeat the whole purpose of my trip there."
"True, true…" the older wizard said as he stifled a yawn. "Remember the Ani-"
"-magus ritual, yes Padfoot, I know. We've discussed this."
"Good, good…"
"Are you sure you don't want to go back to sleep? I can wait on my own, you know," the young wizard said with a raised eyebrow.
"It won't take long, I'll go to sleep when you leave. It should be any moment now."
Harry smiled warmly at his godfather and he slowly and hesitantly did something that he had never imagined he would willingly initiate so easily with an adult in his life. He hugged his godfather.
The hug was instantly reciprocated and they stayed in silence embracing each other for a few moments before moving back to their places.
"Take care of yourself, alright Prongslet?"
"I will certainly try," Harry said with a smirk.
At that moment, he felt the galleon in his hand vibrate and the next thing he knew was the uncomfortable feeling of being pulled by his navel. The feeling lasted a little bit longer than usual, just a couple seconds at most, and then he found himself landing on a stone surface. He blinked to adjust to the darkness that greeted him, as he slowly realised that he was inside a cave.
"Well, you Brits are nothing if not punctual," a harsh, gravelly voice was heard directly behind him and he spun around.
A bald man with a severe expression and a short black beard with streaks of white was looking straight at him with pale blue eyes. He wore simple robes of grey colour that did nothing to hide the powerful physique hidden underneath. With his height reaching easily six feet, he cut an imposing figure. Several orbs of light were orbiting slowly around him, illuminating him and their immediate surroundings.
"Come," the man said and immediately spun around in order to walk towards the exit. Harry followed him, matching his relaxed pace as they walked. "You might have realised, but I am Alexandros Charistanes. I will be your tutor this summer. You need to be up to the challenge with your upstart Dark Lord. Unfortunately, Albus informed me that a Prophecy is in play, tethering you together. I certainly know better than to meddle with a true Prophecy. As it is, you are the only one allowed to take him down. And I'm afraid you are just not cut for it."
Harry's eyebrow twitched in subtle annoyance, but he couldn't refute the truth in the statement.
"What do you think I'll teach you?"
"How to fight," Harry answered simply.
"No, boy. I will teach you magic. Not magic as you know it from school. You will first learn the essence of the power each of us brothers and sisters hold dear. You will learn what it is and what it means to be a wizard. I will teach you to respect the power given to you by the higher powers, then I will teach you how to wield it in combat, but for now…"
Finally, the duo reached the exit of the cave and Harry had to pause in order to fully take in the magnificence of what he was witnessing.
Hundreds upon hundreds of feet above the sea level, Harry had the perfect view of the place he visited. On one hand, he could see the coastline and the land surrounding it. On the other hand, he could see an endless stretch of land, forests and other smaller mountains. Not a single peak was higher than his eye level and Harry realised where he was exactly. He could also see a plethora of birds moving in packs, all of them circling Mount Olympus in a hypnotic dance. The morning rays of the sun bathed the entire landscape in a golden colour and Harry would readily admit that it was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid his eyes upon.
"Welcome to Greece."