Serpent's Bloodline: Legacy of the Basilisk

It was the evening after the first meeting of the Grand Family, when Severus Snape finally allowed himself to relax in his quarters. He was nursing a fire whiskey and on his left hand was jingling a hidden silver bracelet he hadn't worn until a few hours ago.

His thoughts, on the other hand were elsewhere.

"Severus," the voice of his Head of House echoed in his mind. "You hand."

When Severus had turned and looked at the seemingly younger man, he shuddered.

Severus couldn't help it.

The man he was interacting with, in Severus' eyes, was quite a lot like Potter. They had the same hair-colour - even if the man's hair was longer and a lot more tamable than Potter's ever had been. They had a similar face - Potter's just slightly different, but that could be explained away by the glasses. They even had the same eyes - and yet, there was the biggest different between Potter and the man in front of Severus as well.

While Potter's eyes were green, the man's eyes were of a different green than Potter's. The man's eyes were lighter, showing knowledge far beyond that of a normal mortal - and yet, they were darker as well, dark thanks to the loss of thousands in the other man's life.

So different - and yet, so similar… and while Severus hated the Potter boy for his innocent and carefree life, he couldn't do the same for the man in front of him, because unlike Potter, this man wasn't innocent at all.

Severus couldn't help but wonder what the man would say if Severus accused him of cold-blooded murder - an accusation, that wouldn't be wrong at all, so Severus guessed.

When Severus' eyes met the other man's, the seemingly younger one's face turned grave.

"Severus," his Head repeated. "Your hand."

And Severus knew exactly why the other man wanted it. He swallowed then unbuttoned his cuffs to free his left hand. When he held it out to his Head, the Dark Mark was visible for all the occupants of the room to see.

He could see the disgust in the eyes of those that had followed Dumbledore just previously to the meeting and even the neutral ones didn't look to happy seeing it.

Severus' new Head of House instead simply took his hand and looked at the Dark Mark without emotions for a moment.

Then those unfathomable green eyes met Severus' black.

"Are you ready to stop your activities as a spy or do you want to continue?" Salvazsahar asked him coolly. This time everybody else in the room sucked in a breath in surprise. Severus wasn't sure if it was that good an idea to blurt it out like that in front of everybody here - even if they were now 'family'.

His Head of House seemed to catch on to Severus' concern, because he waved it off.

"This meeting, like everything else previous to the reveal of the family is shielded in their minds," he said. "They won't be able to talk about it and nobody will be able to read their thoughts on it until the secrecy spell fails when the family is revealed. Until then, everybody in this room will be trained in Occlumency - so you don't have to fear that your secret comes out."

Severus nodded curtly.

Oddly enough, he actually believed his Head's word for it.

"I'd like to keep spying, if you please," he forced out instead, forcing himself to be more civil than he normally was.

Salvazsahar inclined his head and pulled out a simple silver bracelet from a pocket of his robes.

"I thought this might be your answer," he said unconcerned. "You're far too fixed on atoning for mistakes you made a decade ago."

Then the seemingly younger man shook his head.

"It's not healthy," he murmured to himself while he fastened the bracelet around Severus' left arm. Then the grip he had on the opposite side of the Dark Mark tightened.

With his free hand, Salvazsahar started to trace a few runes onto the Dark Mark.

Severus could feel the air around him becoming laden with magic. His skin burned.

Then a golden flash surrounded the Dark Mark at the hissed command of his new Head of House and something ripped apart inside Severus.

Searing pain cursed through his body and for a moment, he couldn't breathe.

Then the Dark Mark tingled, burned as if trying to keep its hold of Severus before it flashed out of existence. The next moment, the silver bracelet heated.

For a short second, Severus could see a ghost-version of the Dark Mark above the bracelet, then it also vanished and the only thing left was a silver bracelet and unblemished skin…

Severus took another sip from his drink, staring at his unmarked forearm. He had born the Dark Mark for over a decade in shame. To see it actually gone was… disconcerting and oddly liberating.

But it also made Severus wonder.

"Albus always said that there was no way to remove the Dark Mark," he muttered to himself. "And yet, my Head of House removed it within a few minutes…"

Yes, it made Severus wonder if Albus Dumbledore had even tried to look into it or if he had simply assumed that there was no way…

Severus shook his head.

It didn't matter.

The Dark Mark on his forearm was gone - the Dark Mark on Lucius' forearm was also gone - and Severus could still spy.

With that thought he finished his drink, before he stood up and clad himself in his Death Eater robes.

A few minutes later he was at Malfoy manor and in front of the Dark Lord.

"My Lord," he greeted the man while trying to ignore the vampire that was sitting in the candelabra, cackling away.

"Ssseverus," the Dark Lord said, his voice clearly annoyed and Severus made a mental note to avoid any questions that had to do with the insane vampire in the candelabra.

He actually didn't want to know what the insane Sanguini had done this time around to annoy the Dark Lord…

"I bring news, my Lord," Severus said instead.

"News?" the Dark Lord asked with narrowed eyes and Severus nodded.

"The old fool Dumbledore told the staff today," he said and continued immediately when the Dark Lord's eyes narrowed further. "It seems like Lucius and Narcissa were led into a trap. I'm not sure what happened to Narcissa, but according to Dumbledore, Lucius died."

The Dark Lord frowned.

"It's not like the old fool to kill anybody," he said with narrowed eyes and Severus shrugged.

"Dumbledore didn't seem to be happy about it so I guess that it was either an accident or maybe Moody," he replied.

This time, understanding could be seen in the Dark Lord's eyes.

"Alastor Moody," he said slowly and unhappily. "That man has been trigger-happy since the first war. I'm surprised that the old fool still keeps him around considering that he actually killed a few of my men back then…"

Severus shrugged.

"It's not as if he has that many people to choose from," Severus pointed out. "Not many believe that you're back, after all, my Lord."

"Too true, Severus," the Dark Lord said, this time sounding satisfied, before his face darkened again.

"So Lucius is dead," he repeated and Severus inclined his head slowly.

"According to the old fool he is," he said with an emotionless voice.

The Dark Lord frowned again, this time clearly thinking about the consequences that Lucius' dead would bring with it.

"I am… displeased with those news," he hissed and Severus braced himself for a round of crucio now that the Dark Lord had the most important information, but the Dark Lord simply stood up and paced. "Has the old fool said something about the Malfoy property and moneys?"

"No, my Lord," Severus said slowly. "But I guess that if Lucius truly died, then Draco will have inherited everything…"

The Dark Lord nodded.

"Of course," Severus added daringly. "If Narcissa is dead as well, the old fool might still have enough sway in the Wizengamot to get the guardianship of Draco transferred to him until Draco is of age."

The Dark Lord contemplated those words for a few minutes then he nodded.

"I will retreat to my house in Little Hangleton until after Christmas," he decided. "You, on the other hand, will ensure that young Draco will take his father's place in the January meeting of the Wizengamot to ensure that he's recognized as a legal adult and Lord of his House."

Severus inclined his head.

"As you wish, my Lord," he said.

"After that," the Dark Lord added. "You will bring the boy here immediately to receive my Mark."

"Of course, my Lord," Severus agreed stiffly.

For a moment, he feared that the Dark Lord would start cursing him now, but then the monster only waved him away and Severus hastened to leave the room before the Dark Lord threw another temper tantrum.

Severus was nearly at the ward line when the vampire caught up to him and stopped him from leaving.

Sharp glinting fangs were revealed when the vampire smiled at him, then the vampire pulled Severus forward until Severus feared that the creature planned to feed on him.

The vampire sniffed.

"Ah!" Sanguini sighed. "I know that scent."

Again, Sanguini flashed his fangs at Severus and the potion master shuddered.

The vampire, seeing the reaction just patted the professor's cheek as if he was a child.

"Don't worry, young one," he said. "I'm not much of a kin slayer."

That made Severus nearly choke on nothing.

"Kin slayer?" he repeated disbelievingly and the vampire patted his cheek again.

"Oh, child of my brother," he said fondly. "What a delightful creature you are! Don't worry, uncle will make some time for you in the future to get to know you!"

Severus' eyes narrowed.

"You're not my uncle," he said coolly.

The vampire pouted.

"There might be a few 'greats' missing in there, but I assure you, I am," he said. "Pater's scent is all over you, clinging to you like a protective cocoon - exactly like it does to me. The only explanation for that is that Pater sees you as family and has taken you under his protection."

Severus stared at the insane vampire and then decided that it wasn't worth fighting over with a clearly insane creature like him.

"Whatever," he said and tried to free himself from the vampire's grip. "I have to go and return to Hogwarts now."

The vampire just tightened his hold on Severus.

"Only if you tell me a proper good-bye, nephew mine," Sanguini pouted.

Severus frowned.

Then he sneered but said curtly: "Good-bye."

"Mh-mh," the vampire admonished him. "Good-bye, Uncle Ana . Say it."

Severus contemplated if St. Mungo's would be too put out with him if he delivered them a clearly mentally ill vampire.

In the end, he guessed that trying to drag the creature through the wards and apparate it to St. Mungo's wasn't worth the effort.

"Good-bye, Uncle Ana," he forced out and the vampire patted his cheek with an affectionate look again.

"Good boy," he said. "I'm looking forward to see you again."

And with that the vampire let go of him and returned to the manor and the Dark Lord, leaving Severus to wonder if atonement was enough of a motivator to keep spying if he had to deal with 'Uncle Ana' on top of the Dark Lord…

"Ah! Severus!" Albus Dumbledore greeted his spy and the man sneered at the familiarity the Headmaster used to talk to him.

"Headmaster," he greeted the old man with the twinkling eyes.

"I guess that you bring news?" Dumbledore asked his spy in Voldemort's ranks and Severus inclined his head.

"Indeed I do," he said coolly. "Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy have vanished. The Dark Lord has no idea what happened but he suspects that your Order has something to do with it. A trap, he called it."

Dumbledore frowned.

"They vanished?"

"Yes, sir," Severus replied. "The Dark Lord has no idea what happened to them. They left their manor and haven't been seen since then. The Dark Lord fears that Moody got his hands on them and killed them."

The Headmaster frowned.

"How high is the possibility of that?" He asked his spy and Severus shrugged.

"I have no idea where that insane ex-auror has been for at least the last two days, Headmaster," he pointed out. "It's after all not my duty to babysit the rest of the Order on top of spying for you."

"Of course not, Severus," Dumbledore agreed, but the frown stayed on his face. "I will take a look into this. Let's just hope that Alastor hasn't gone and done something irreversible."

"Of course, Headmaster," Severus replied, not bothering to tell the old man that he knew exactly where the Malfoys were and that their vanishing act had indeed nothing to do with Alastor Moody.

"Anything else important, Severus?"

The other man shook his head.

"No, sir," he said. "The Dark Lord hasn't said anything about further plans or anything else."

Albus Dumbledore stroked his beard then he nodded.

"Then I will leave you to your duties, my boy," he said jovially and the potion's master bowed stiffly and left the Headmaster's office to return to his quarters.

"I wonder how the Headmaster will react when he finds out that the Malfoys are indeed still alive and now following somebody else…" he mumbled, before shaking his head and deciding to use the rest of his evening to have another drink. Being a double-spy was hard work - but it was even harder to lie to both masters evenly…

"Guess that makes me a triple-spy or whatever," Severus thought sneering. "Just that this time around I actually don't have a master but do it on my own violation…"

But then, that was the least thing Severus could do to keep his new family safe - and he was sure that unlike his masters, his family would actually appreciate his decisions…

With that thought Severus wrote the Malfoys a message that their disappearance was explained before sitting down to have another drink to finish up his day.

Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody meanwhile stood in front of the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters, staring at the old and dreary looking house.

He hesitated.

Thanks to his data he knew that the only one inside headquarters was currently one Sirius Black. The man, even with being free now, was still living in the old house of his parents.

Black had wanted to move out the moment it was known that he was innocent, but Albus Dumbledore had objected to the idea and had persuaded the last Black to continue living within headquarters for the time being, citing that he needed someone who was always there to help those who came by unexpectedly.

Black hadn't been happy, but in the end gave in to the Headmaster's demands.

Now, Alastor Moody was standing in front of the dreary house, daring not to enter as if he was an unruly child returning home after breaking the rules of their parents…

"You won't get answers otherwise," Moody remembered himself.

While he had contacted the Head of House Delacour to speak to his uncle, he had been told that the old man was currently somewhere in Germany and unavailable. Alastor would have to either wait some time or try to find out the true story of his father's death from somewhere else…

So Moody had come to Black to ask for the journals of Black's ancestors - just to stand outside the house in the rain, not daring to enter and confront Black with the idea of wanting to look into anything that belonged to Black's family. Black hated his family. Moody had seen how careless the man had acted when it came to his inheritance and he had seen the man sneer the moment any family members of himself had come up.

Moody guessed that he would have a fight at hand the moment he told Black that he wanted to take a look into the journals of one of his forbearer.

Moody hesitated for another moment then he took a deep breath and forced himself to enter the old and shabby looking house.

He stomped through the hallway and entered the kitchen. Like he expected, Black was sitting at his kitchen table, staring unhappily into a glass of fire whiskey that stood in front of him on the table.

Moody slammed the door shut behind him and Black looked up from his drink, his eyes bloodshot and his face drawn with unhappiness.

"Moody," he greeted the old auror. "What are you doing here?"

Moody frowned at the other man.

"I came here to talk to you, Black," he said truthfully and the other man stared at him blankly.

"Talk to me?" He asked, sounding a bit confused. "About what?"

Moody hesitated for another second then he forced himself to speak up.

"About your family," he said and Black's face darkened into a grimace immediately.

"Truly, Moody," he said unhappily. "Do you have to destroy my peaceful evening with a question like that?"

Moody just stared at the other man.

"Doesn't matter if you like it or not, Black," he said gruffly. "I need answers - and your family can provide them, so I will take a look into your family history."

Black shrugged disinterestedly.

"Whatever," he said and stared at his glass. "What do you want to know? But keep in mind that I run away from home after not bearing their bigotry anymore when I was fifteen."

"I'm quite aware of that, Black," Moody replied while frowning at the man in front of him.

"The Black-family at the time of Grindelwald - what do you know about them?" He asked.

This time Black actually looked up to stare at Moody incredulously.

"We're currently in war with a dark wizard - and you want to talk about the defeat of another dark wizard ages ago?" He asked in disbelief.

Moody just returned his stare with hard eyes.

"I need to know, Black," he said. "Doesn't matter if it makes sense to you or not. I need to know - so tell me!"

Black just shrugged.

"I've actually no idea what my family has to do with Grindelwald," he said uninterestedly. "I never knew that they had anything at all to do with the war back then…"

Moody frowned.

"They were part of the war," he said with conviction. "Your Grandfather, Arcturus Black, actually came to my home when I was ten years old to talk to my mother about my fallen father."

This time there was clear disbelief in Black's face for all to see.

"What did my Grandfather have to do with the death of your father?" He asked before thinking about it and raising a hand to stop Moody from answering. "Forget my question," Black said a sneer now on his face. "From what I know about my family, I can actually guess what he had to do with his death. My family is known for dark magic and joining Dark Lords, after all."

The sneer grew even more pronounced at those words and Moody frowned.

" I'm sorry, he died protecting me while I was trying to get my cousin to safety," the tired voice of a dirty and grim man in rags echoed through Moody's mind - a voice he remembered from when he was ten. It had been the worst day in his life back then - and yet, it had shown him exactly what a man his father had been. "We had planned ahead… but there were complications and…"

"I think, Black," Moody said slowly. "You might have the wrong impression of your Grandfather…"

Black frowned at that, and Moody elaborated.

"My father would have never fought on the side of Grindelwald - yet, as far as I know he died protecting your grandfather. There's no way that your grandfather has been on the side of Grindelwald if my father thought it prudent to die to protect him."

Black opened his mouth then closed it with a snap, disbelief still evident in his eyes.

"What… what do you mean, your father died protecting my grandfather?" He finally asked Moody, confusion in his eyes.

Moody shrugged.

"I'm not sure," he said. "That's the only thing I know. Well - that and that the Malfoire's were also somehow involved in everything. I don't understand it - but I need to find out… especially if Albus lied to me and the whole thing with Grindelwald didn't happen at all how he told it the rest of Britain."

Sirius Black stared at Moody for a moment or two, then he shook his head and asked just one question.

"Why?" He asked.

Moody frowned.

"Why what?" He replied and Black returned his gaze evenly.

"Why does it matter?" He asked. "It's not as if it's important right now…"

Moody thought about it.

"Maybe," he finally confessed slowly. "It doesn't matter right now for anybody else - but for me… if Albus truly lied about that… if he truly didn't defeat Grindelwald… with us knowing that he failed to defeat our current threat as well… well, I think it might prove to me that Albus is the wrong man to follow in this upcoming conflict if that's the case."

Black nodded slowly.

"I'm not too happy with Dumbledore," he said truthfully to Moody. "But who else should I work with if not him? It's not as if the Ministry is fighting Voldemort…"

For a second, Moody said nothing.

"Potter," he finally decided. "If Albus isn't who he portrays to be, then I will follow Potter. The boy is far more grown up than I ever thought - and unlike Albus he at least is known for giving us something akin to peace for the last ten years."

Black looked at him in surprise.

"Harry?" He repeated a bit thrown by Moody's words. "Harry's not working with Dumbledore anymore?"

Moody snorted.

"The boy does everything but work with Albus," he said amused. "And from what I found out he hasn't worked with Albus for quite some time already - if ever."

Black frowned.

"But why?" He asked, clearly confused by Moody's assessment.

Moody just shrugged.

"I have actually no idea," he said truthfully. "But from how it sounded like - Potter's decision was definitely influenced by whatever happened with Grindelwald…"

"In other words if I want to know my godson's reason I'll swallow my hate for everything to do with my family and research what happened back then between my grandfather, your father, Dumbledore and Grindelwald," Black concluded with a grimace.

Moody showed him his teeth in a semblance of a smile.

"Exactly, Black," he said. "And now tell me if there's a way to find out what exactly your family was doing back then in the fight against Grindelwald."

Black groaned.

"I hate research," he said. "Why does it have to be my family involved in the whole debacle? I hate my family!"

Moody was sure they would find some evidence if they looked just long enough for it…

"Harry," Hermione said hesitatingly after their current DA meeting. They had been learning shield-charms - including one that reflected back the curses thrown at their opponent. Even if it was quite effective in theory, if was also clear that the shield was able to kill the people they were fighting if the curse thrown at the shield was deadly.

Harry looked up from where he was documenting the advances of the members of the DA.

"Yes, Hermione?" He asked pleasantly.

Hermione frowned at her best friend.

"Do… do you truly think it a good idea to teach us a shield like the last one you showed us?" She asked him nervously.

Ron, next to her, nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "What if the Slytherin's use it against one of us or when they're joining Voldemort?"

Harry sighed and sat down his quill.

"If, Ron," he corrected and his friend frowned, so Harry elaborated. " If they join Voldemort - not 'when', Ron."

Ron snorted.

"They're Slytherins, Harry," he said with a throw-away gesture. "It's just a matter of time until they join him."

Harry pinched his nose tiredly.

"They're children, Ron," he said tiredly. "Some of them not older than eleven. You don't want to tell me that even those little children are evil, do you?"

Ron frowned.

"Malfoy was," he pointed out and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Malfoy was immature and a bit of a bully. He was not evil," he corrected his former best friend.

Ron stared at Harry.

"That's what you say, mate," he said and shook his head. "I think he's definitely evil."

That was the moment, Hermione spoke up again.

"It doesn't matter if Malfoy's evil or not," she said. "That shield and its consequences is far more import-"

She was interrupted by another voice before she could finish her demand.

"You shouldn't criticize the prince," a dreamy voice told her softly. "He has known what to do for hundreds of years already. He has a lot more experience than we all together - so if he thinks that spell is necessary, it is necessary. Don't you think so, too?"

Hermione turned to the owner of the dreamy voice who was standing behind her.

The girl had light blond hair and dreamy silver eyes as well. She had something… supernatural surrounding her.

Hermione frowned, trying to remember the name of the Ravenclaw fourth year in front of her.

"Oy! Stay out of our discussion, Looney!" Ron said with an eye-roll. "This has nothing to do with your thought-up creatures!"

The girl just smiled a spacey smile at Ron before looking at Harry.

"They are quite blind, aren't they, my Prince?" She asked him with a soft voice and Harry smiled at her.

"I'm not your prince," he corrected the girl.

Hermione stared at Harry and then at the girl, before looking back at Harry.

"Harry, what -?"

Harry gestured to the girl.

"Hermione, this is Luna Lovegood," he said before looking at Ron with a frown. "And her name is Luna - not Looney."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"She's mad, mate," he said. "She's -"

"Still called Luna," Harry interrupted him sternly.

Luna meanwhile shrugged.

"I actually don't mind that much, my Prince," she said.

Harry just sighed.

"I'm not your prince, Luna," he repeated and Luna smiled.

"You might not be my king," she said with a spacey smile. "But that doesn't change the fact that you will always be my prince."

Hermione frowned at the girl.

"Your prince?" She repeated, clearly thinking along the thoughts of Luna fancying Harry.

"She's looney," Ron said waving it off. "That's all to it."

"Of course 'my prince'," Luna said. "That's how you address the heir to the king, after all. Normal prince or immortal prince doesn't matter in that case."

"I know what a prince is," Hermione said a bit crossly. "I want to know why you call Harry a prince."

Luna blinked innocently.

"Because he is one?" She asked Harry's female friend. "There are some princes and kings in the magical world, you know?"

For a moment, Hermione clearly contemplated if the girl truly meant it, then her eyes narrowed.

"The wizarding world doesn't have royals," she said with conviction.

Luna looked at her with huge innocent eyes, her head to the side.

"Why do you think so?" She asked Hermione, her face even with her dreamy look, serious. "Every wizarding raised knows that our world has kings and queens and princes as well. Or what do you think was King Arthur ruling back then?"

Hermione's eyes widened at that.

"King Arthur?" She repeated in clear disbelief.

Ron scratched his head.

"Yeah, King Arthur was the last magical king of Britain," he said matter-of-factly. "Don't you know that, 'Mione?"

Hermione blinked in surprise then turned to Ron with a frown.

"The wizarding world truly has kings and princes?" She asked him in disbelief.

Ron blinked confused.

"Nah… well, we had… and some of us still have…" He said with a shrug. "A lot of our royals were killed… dunno. Maybe in the last war? Or the one before?"

Hermione's eyes widened.

"You have royals?" She repeated and Ron frowned at her.

"I thought you saw that stupid tapestry in Sirius' home naming his house 'noble'," he pointed out.

"Yes, of course," Hermione replied. "But I thought… I just thought…"

That was when she noticed that Harry hadn't reacted at the news at all.

"Harry?" She asked confused. "Why aren't you surprised?"

Harry looked at her silently.

"Because I'm not," he finally said. "And you shouldn't be as well. If we had any kind of half-way decent history lessons, you actually wouldn't be."

He shook his head.

"This is basic history knowledge when it comes to the magical world," he said sighing. "You should know it - everybody should know it! And yet, here we are with not even purebloods knowing information like that anymore!"

He shook his head in disgust.

"What has come this school to that it can't even teach basic knowledge like that anymore?"

"Nothing good, my Prince," Luna replied. "But I'm not worried. You're here now, after all."

With that, she smiled at him her dreamy smile full of hidden knowledge and trust.

Harry just rolled his eyes at her fondly.

"You don't have to call me 'prince', Luna," he said amused.

Hermione's eyes nearly bugged out.

"Wait - Harry is a prince?" She asked with disbelief in her voice.

Ron frowned and his face scrunched up in thoughts.

"Nah," he said. "The Potter's aren't royals as far as I know, so he shouldn't be."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Luna.

"There you go, Luna," he said fondly. "No 'prince' for me."

The other girl pouted.

"You're still my prince," she said. "My immortal prince!"

This time, Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I think she fancies you, Harry," she declared, but Luna shook her head.

"That's not it," she denied. "Unlike you, I just know whom I'm talking to."

Then Luna's smile broadened.

"And unlike you, I know that the things the immortal prince is teaching us, might be important for our survival," she added. "The immortal prince cares for us, after all. We are his children - the people he will protect with everything he has."

Harry smiled at the girl.

"Exactly," he gave in - that was when Hermione's thought process returned to the spell she had objected to at the beginning of their discussion.

Her eyes widened.

"Harry!" She exclaimed. "That spell you taught us! It's immoral!"

Harry shot Luna a betrayed look and the girl looked back at him with an innocent smile.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"It's not immoral," he said to Hermione with a sigh. "It's effective - and it might save your life…"

"But it might kill our opponent!" Hermione objected immediately.

Harry frowned at her.

"Only if the spell he cast at us is deadly," he pointed out. "The shield reflects the spell back at the caster, after all."

Hermione stared at him, uncomprehending.

"It still might kill -"

"It's their fault if it does," Harry interrupted her coolly. "I'm not Dumbledore. I won't sit by and watch how you work with stunner against killing curses! It's a shield, by wind and fire! If they don't cast anything deadly, it won't hurt them - and if they do, it's their fault to begin with!"

Hermione opened her mouth to object, just to close it again when she noticed that Harry was right with his assessment.

"But Dumbledore," she said anyway, but was interrupted by Harry.

"Killed hundreds of people with his 'stunners-only' policy," Harry said darkly. "I don't plan to repeat his mistakes - if he sees them as such or not."

Hermione frowned.

"But killing people is wrong!" She objected unhappily.

Harry just pointed at the door.

"If you don't like it how I conduct my lessons, there's the door," he said coolly. "I'm not keeping you there."

Hermione gawked.

"But Dumble -"

"I told you I'm not going to follow Dumbledore's way of war," Harry told her with a sigh. "It's just foolish to wait and watch until the enemy comes knocking."

For a moment, it looked as if Hermione couldn't object to that then she frowned.

"But you named this group 'Dumbledore's Army'," she said confused. "Why would you do that if you're so much against the Headmaster's way to fight this war?"

Harry shrugged, his face impassive.

"I have my reasons," he replied. "I didn't know that I had to elaborate them to you."

Ron snorted.

"Well, you're definitely not his mother, Hermione," he said amused.

Hermione stared at her other best friend.

"Doesn't it bother you, Ron?" She asked with a frown.

The other boy shrugged.

"Not truly," he admitted. "It's Harry. He's the best in defence and when he says we need to know it, then we might need it for our exams."

"But -"

"Also, without him I'd fail defence and that would mean that mum'll scold me for hours - so if Harry says we learn that stuff, then I learn that stuff," Ron added. "It's definitely a lot better than the toad, after all."

Hermione stared at Ron, then turned and stared at Harry.

"This will blow up in our faces!" She finally decided with fear in her eyes. "This will blow up in our faces and there will be nothing we can do!"

Harry shrugged.

"I thought you added and hexed the list of our members to ensure that nothing happens," he said unconcerned.

Hermione stared at her best friend.

"The list isn't fool-proved!" She replied peeved.

Harry shrugged.

"So it might blow up in our faces, in the end," he said unconcerned. "But until then - how about you either let me teach what I think necessary to teach or you leave if you can't stand it."

For a moment, Hermione clearly looked torn then she sighed and hung her head.

"I'll stay and stop criticizing," she said unhappily.

Luna patted her on the head.

"Well done, Hermione," she said dreamily. "It definitely takes some practice to recognize that you can't win against the prince if he's sure that he's on the right path. It's definitely better to give up before crossing him - because if you do, he won't forget, and he won't forgive if people under his protection died because of your foolishness."

"Luna," Harry admonished the girl fondly.

The girl just smiled at him.

"Don't worry, my Prince," she said dreamily. "I will always follow you."

With that she kissed his cheek and hopped out of the room.

Hermione and Ron followed her exit with their eyes.

"I still say she's a bit looney," Ron declared after a second or two of silence. "And whatever you say, Harry you can't change my opinion on that."

Hermione nodded slowly.

"Somehow," she said reluctantly. "Ron might be actually right, this time around."

Harry just rolled his eyes fondly at his two friends.

They had no idea!

Amelia Bones sighed. She had had a long day, yet, it wasn't over.

For a moment, she contemplated if she should get herself some tea, but then her gaze graced the memories left for her by Ollivander instead.

She frowned and looked at them.

Until now, she hadn't had any time to look into them - although she knew that she should have taken a look just to be a bit more prepared for what was waiting for her.

Instead, she had had a hard time stopping Cornelius Fudge in his idiotic plan to shut down not only the Quibbler but the Prophet as well. The Minister wasn't happy with the articles of one Oliver Twist and had tried to not only stop the newspapers from printing them but also had tried to get the newspapers to follow his demands what to write.

Sadly, the stockholders of both newspapers hadn't taken too kindly to that demanded control and had send their barrister the Minister's way - which ended with the Minister running to her to stop that man.

Amelia hadn't been too kind when brushing off Fudge. The man had messed with the law - and it definitely wasn't her problem if he got bitten by it.

Of course, considering what she knew of the Minister, she guessed that the January meeting of the Wizengamot would be full of new proposals that would end up being passed into laws thanks to Albus Dumbledore's laid-back politics and the aggressive one of Lucius Malfoy who would back the Minister like always…

Amelia sighed again and rubbed her forehead.

Then she shook her head and put down the paperwork of the auror-department she had been reading.

"Maybe," she said to herself. "It's time to actually look into the new side that asked me to join…"

Ollivander.

Amelia was still surprised that the man had decided to enter politics. She wondered what reason Ollivander had to enter the Wizengamot after so many years.

Her gaze drifted back to her pensive and the memories swirling inside it.

For a moment, she still hesitated then she stood up and reached for the pensive to pick it up and set it down on her desk.

For a moment, she let it sit there, while just staring at it then she took a deep breath and entered the memories.

Just a second later she fell down the pensive and came to a hold on the wooden floor of a simple flat in Diagon Alley.

A young boy with black hair and oddly silver eyes was standing in front of a man who looked a lot like Ollivander did now.

The boy looked to be about seventeen and was twirling a wand between his fingers.

"Father," he said slowly while watching the wand twirl. "I heard that Allaric Moody is missing."

The old man who had been working on a wand at a desk at the side, sighed.

"He is," he said without looking up from his work.

"I also heard that uncle is searching for him," the boy added and twirled his own wand a bit more. "I want to go and join him in his search."

The old man sighed again.

"Garrick," he said, startling Amelia because she wouldn't have recognized the young boy as the current wand maker if the man hadn't said the boy's name. "You're not even seventeen, yet."

The boy frowned at him.

"It's not as if I propose to fight a dark lord," he pointed out unhappily. "I just want to join uncle in searching one of my friends!"

This time the older wand maker looked up from his work to frown at his son.

"You're far too young to fight anybody - especially a dark lord!" He objected unhappily.

"You were younger, Father," the boy said petulantly. "Yet you helped to fight uncle against Lord Morgan."

The Father sighed.

"I helped to create defences in Hogwarts like your Grandfather helped to create defences in Diagon Alley," he corrected his son. "I never truly fought with your uncle against Morgan. In the end, it was your uncle and his protectors who fought - and your uncle is by far old enough to fight."

Garrick Ollivander frowned.

"Uncle is younger than you by two years," he pointed out and his father laughed.

"That's the official version," he said.

The boy's eyes widened, but his father shook his head before he could ask.

"I won't say anything else," he told his son. "It's Sal's prerogative to tell those he trusts. As long as you remember the stories I told you about, you will do fine."

The boy frowned.

"But I actually don't want to go out and fight, Father," he pointed out in the end. "I just want to go and help to find Allaric. He's my friend! I should be with uncle and try to find him - especially with those criminals killing people all over Europe!"

Amelia raised an eyebrow at the young Garrick Ollivander. She had actually no idea what the whole discussion was about - but even with not knowing she was surprised by Garrick Ollivander's demeanor. She had never pecked the wand maker for someone who even tried to go out and fight. She had always thought that the man had kept out of every conflict between the light and the dark, like every other wand maker did as well…

For a moment, there was silence between those two men in the memory then the older one sighed.

"You're far too much like me and your grandfather," he said sighing while shaking his head. "Alright, Garrick - go on and join your uncle in his quest to find Allaric - if he lets you that is. Just come back when you've found your friend."

The boy's eyes lit up and he smiled.

"Just one thing before you go," the older Ollivander added and the younger one nodded eagerly. "Promise me to come home before you go out and join a war, will you?"

And Amelia wondered if the older wand maker had said the last sentence as a joke or if he meant it.

The answer was a hug by the boy.

"Of course, Father," he said. "I promise."

With that the first memory ended.

Amelia suddenly had the odd feeling that whatever she would see within those memories, might turn her world around in the end…

Minerva McGonagall had been on her way to the staff-room after her day in the classroom when she passed-by the library.

She stopped.

Her mind suddenly on the words the young Longbottom had told her just a few days ago.

" Especially in the current dark times the old houses have to stand strong - and Longbottom would be looked down upon if I stepped back and hid behind my grandmother's robes. You should know this, Professor. You are, after all, also part of the Wizengamot," he had told her. "Maybe you should look up your ancestry, Professor. You might be surprised when you take a look at the families in the Wizards' Council."

Minerva of course hadn't believed him… yet she was standing in front of the library, contemplating to step in and look up the members of the Wizards' Council.

It was odd, but there had been something in Longbottom's face that had made her pause - and now she couldn't get rid of the thought what would be if he was right.

"Albus would have told me," she reminded herself. "He knows that I believe myself to be common, so he would have told me if that wasn't the case. I mean, what reason does he have to keep something like that from me?"

She couldn't imagine one reason.

Minerva shook her head.

"Longbottom must have remembered it wrong," she thought. "It happens - and the boy has quite a bad memory, after all."

Yet…

" Please be advised that I might be interested in an alliance if you decide to take up your inheritance," the boy had said, no hesitation, no shyness in his face.

Minerva shook her head.

"This is madness!" She decided and continued her way down the hallway. "Utter madness! There's no way that Longbottom could be right about this!"

Yet, a niggling thought would stay with her for the rest of the day.

What if…?

Augusta Longbottom looked over the letter her grandson had written.

She couldn't help it. She was proud of him.

Since the Professor Malfoire had returned, her grandson had started to change. He had entered a study group in school and had actually started not only to interact with his peers, but to show interest in his duties and politics as well.

And now he was actually writing a formal letter to the Lord of House Black!

Oh! How proud Augusta was!

Just a few months ago it would have been her who would have to write the letter - now she just had to look it over and sign.

Yes, Augusta was definitely proud of her grandson.

He was turning out to be exactly like her little Frank!

The dowager sighed and then returned to reading the letter her grandson had sent her for her to look over.

" To the venerable Lord Black," it read.

" The House Longbottom hereby writes to you to formalize the alliance your heir proposed to us just a few weeks ago. House Longbottom wishes to reaffirm and officiate this alliance before the first Wizengamot meeting of the new year in January. At this time, House Longbottom will return into the Wizengamot under a new Lord and wishes to ensure old alliances and officiate those that have been proposed to ensure the new Lord's success.

Sincerely,

The House of Longbottom."

Yes, Augusta Longbottom was very proud of her grandson. He was definitely growing into his own - and Augusta couldn't wait until he was sure enough of himself to insert himself into the politics of their world. With the backing of Professor Malfoire, the involvement into the Grand Family and the alliance with House Black the wizarding world would quiver under the power of the heir of Longbottom.

And Neville was well on his way to be ruthless enough to actually use that power…

Exactly like his father.

Augusta couldn't wait.

Albus Dumbledore and the rest of the so called light families wouldn't know what hit them!

When Amelia Bones could see more than swirling colours again, she thought for a second that she hadn't moved at all from one memory to another. She was still in Ollivander's workshop, still even standing on the same place. But something was different as well.

While the older Ollivander - the current one's father was still working, instead of an empty table next to him, a Daily Prophet was lying there.

The head-line proclaimed the news that another British couple had died by the hands of some criminals in Europe.

The date of the newspaper was smudged, but Amelia could still guess at least the month and the year of it. It seemed to be one from January 1914.

In that moment, the memory truly started…

January 1914

"Father," a young Garrick Ollivander said while stepping inside his father's shop. "I heard that Uncle is now in France, fighting against those criminals that are terrorizing Europe."

The older Ollivander didn't even look up from the wand he was currently forging.

"Haven't you seen him just a few months ago?" He asked his son distractedly. "I thought you went and helped him with his search for the young Moody?"

The boy pouted.

"I did," he said. "At least until he sent me home, telling me that it was getting too dangerous in magical Europe and that he wouldn't let me stay without your conscience - and then he went and found Allaric before I could even ask you to return there!"

"Hmm," his father said, clearly just listening with half an ear.

The younger Ollivander leaned forward to inspect the wand his father was making.

"Cherry-wood and unicorn hair?" He asked.

"Yes," the father replied. "It'll be a very good wand when it's ready."

Garrick Ollivander nodded.

"It will be," he assured his father before returning to the topic they had discussed before. "So Uncle truly is in France, currently?"

The father hummed and readjusted the unicorn hair a bit on his workplace before actually merging it with the wood.

"He is," he finally replied verbally. "Your grandfather already wrote him and got the assurance that your uncle is currently taking on those newly emerged criminals with Allaric Moody."

Garrick frowned.

"But Allaric isn't older than me," he said. "He's barely out of Hogwarts!"

"So?" His father asked uninterestedly while checking over his newest creation.

"So… am I allowed to go as well?" Garrick asked seemingly innocent.

His father blinked and looked at Garrick.

"Why?" He asked confused.

Garrick Ollivander frowned.

"Because you helped Uncle with Morgan at Hogwarts and grandfather helped him with securing Diagon Alley," he pointed out pouting. "I don't want to sit by and just watch when you got to help him back then!"

His father just stared blankly at his son after that declaration.

Then the father shrugged.

"Alright," he said and turned back to his work. "But no dying - or you will have to face great-grandfather's wrath, do you understand me?"

Garrick Ollivander nodded eagerly.

"No dying, I promise," he said before running out of the room to pack.

It would take five years until he would be back home again…

Hermione was nervously chewing on her fingernails.

"But Ron!" She finally said, staring at the boy she was in the middle of a discussion with. "Something is clearly wrong with Harry! I know we decided to let him be, but… we have to do something! We're his friends! If we don't go to an adult and tell them that something's wrong with Harry - who will?"

Ron sighed.

"There's nothing wrong with Harry," he said unconcerned. "He's a bit different, I suppose, but that's not too bad, is it? He's still awful at chess, he's still interested in flying - so for all his changes, he's still Harry, isn't he?"

"Ron!" Hermione objected. "There's more to it than just chess and flying! Look at what he suddenly knows! Look at his changed treatment of others! Look at -"

Before she could go further, she was interrupted by Neville Longbottom of all people.

"You two know that Harry can't afford to have rivalries after January, don't you?" He asked them with a frown. "I think it's just reasonable that he has changed his ways from the start of this year and hasn't waited for the change until shortly before Christmas…"

Hermione blinked and then looked totally confused at the Heir of Longbottom.

"What are you talking about, Neville?" She asked.

Neville stared at her.

"The Potter-Lordship," he said then his eyes narrowed. "What else?"

Hermione looked at Ron.

Ron looked at Hermione.

Then Ron shrugged and Hermione turned to stare at Neville in confusion.

"What do you mean 'his Potter-Lordship'?" She asked him. "What Potter-Lordship?"

Neville blinked at her in surprise.

"Wait!" He exclaimed in disbelief. "You don't know?"

Ron scratched his head.

"Know what?" He asked a bit confused.

Neville shook his head.

"Harry is the heir of the House Potter," he said. "He like a lot of other people in this school, has inherited a lordship from his father…"

Ron's eyes widened at that.

"Potter is nobility?" He asked a bit envious. "Why didn't Harry say something?"

Hermione stared at Ron and then at Neville.

"So… ," she said slowly. "Harry… belongs to wizarding nobility?"

Neville nodded.

"The Potters are descendants of the Peverells - and the Peverells are Olde Ones. That alone makes them nobility. Families like those are at least a thousand years old, you know? Their magic is interwoven with the land and even if they're in no way or form royal, being basically bound to the land like that makes them nobility," he said. "Every child of one of the immortal ones would be considered such."

Hermione stared at the other boy.

"Immortal ones? Olde Ones? What?" She stuttered.

Ron's face was as confused as hers.

Neville sighed.

"This is all about creatures," he said sighing. "We all inherit our magic from them. There are creatures like goblins or centaurs or mermaids, whatever. They're simply ancestors for us. Then there're a few that are different. They normally don't have a lot of children and they have much greater power than normal creatures. Those are the immortals. The phoenix is one of them, like the Elder Dragon, the basilisk and even the dementor."

Neville and the others shuddered after speaking or hearing that word.

"The most of the immortal have died out or gone insane," Neville added. "There're just a few still alive and sane - so the only legacy left are their children with the humans. We - the members of the Wizengamot. We all have at least some blood of one of those immortals in us - and that blood binds us to the land and gives us more power over the others than every other family except of the royals."

Hermione blinked.

"Why," she finally said faintly. "Don't we learn this in History of Magic?"

Neville shrugged.

"I actually have no idea," he said. "Gran has tried to get rid of Binns for decades now - and yet, as long as Dumbledore doesn't fire him, the Board of Governors can't do anything about him."

Hermione stared at Neville.

"But… there were no books about that in the library as well," she said confused and Neville's eyes darkened.

"There are," he said. "But from what I found out, they're in the restricted section. One Headmaster or another put them there and nobody bothered to put them back where they belonged."

Hermione looked crestfallen at that.

"So… in other words there's no way for the muggleborn like me to learn about it, is there?" She asked unhappily.

Neville looked at her uncomfortably.

"The Headmaster has absolute control over Hogwarts - the only exception is the Lord of Hogwarts if there's still one alive or the Founders," he explained to her. "The Board of Governors is more a formality, but according to the charter, it has no influence. The power lies with the Headmaster as long as the Lord of Hogwarts doesn't take the castle back."

"So it's the Headmaster -"

"Who prevents the books to return to the normal section of the library?" Neville finished Hermione's crestfallen question. "Yes. I can't say that he's doing it deliberately, but it's his duty to educate and ensure that the right books are in the right sections of the library."

While Hermione still looked as if her world had just gone into shambles, Ron just shrugged.

"'S not as if it's that important," he pointed out. "The minister has the true power - and he's not bound by the obligations of the Lords. Even the Wizengamot isn't fully bound by it any longer, or the likes of Malfoy wouldn't have a seat there."

Neville shrugged.

"The system has derogated," he admitted. "There are some people in the Wizengamot that by their blood shouldn't be, and there are some missing that should - but well… I think the reason for that is that the most have stopped stating their line in the name of the throne."

Hermione frowned.

"What?"

"There's an obelisk in the chambers of the Wizengamot," Neville said. "A few hundred years ago you still had to state your name and ancestry to it. It was the obelisk who accepted you in the Wizengamot or not. Now only a few families still do it - and some have been admitted to the Wizengamot even without being originally part of the Wizard's Council."

"But who?"

Neville shrugged.

"Mostly, it was one Minister or another who wanted those families part of his politics. The seat of those families only exists as long as the Minister gives it to them - so it's an easy way to ensure that those families will always vote for the Minister."

"Yeah, like the Malfoys," Ron said sneering.

Neville frowned.

"No," he said. "As far as I remember, the Malfoys have a legitimate seat. It's others that haven't."

Ron's eyes nearly bugged out.

"What do you mean the Malfoys have a legitimate seat?" He asked incredulously. "It can't be they -"

"Are the branch family of the House Malfoire. Even if the Malfoy's don't have a legitimate claim, the House Malfoire has it since somewhen in the fourteen hundreds," Neville said.

Hermione frowned at him.

"How do you know all this?" She asked confused.

Neville just shrugged.

"I had to learn it," he said unconcerned. "It's part of the duty of the Heir of Longbottom."

Hermione blinked surprised.

"Oh," she said.

Then her face turned contemplating.

"So," she said slowly. "Harry has to know all this as well?"

Neville inclined his head.

"This and a lot more," he said. "He also will have to present himself in front of the Wizengamot like every other heir in January. If he fails to show, House Potter will lose a lot of political clout. It's not taken kindly if the heir of a House like Harry's or mine isn't deemed mature enough to take up his lordship with fifteen years of age."

Hermione frowned.

"But why didn't Harry speak to us about all that?" She asked. "I could have helped him learn…"

Neville shook his head.

"Every family has its own secrets and there are very few who are trained to know them outside the family," he replied. "No heir would simply talk about those secrets, even if the people they're talking to are close friends."

Hermione opened her mouth to object, but Neville stopped her before she could.

"It's tradition," he said. "And it's even more of a tradition when it comes to families like Harry's who have been part of our world for centuries," he told her.

Hermione's face set into a determined mask and Neville cringed.

He somehow guessed that Hermione wouldn't listen to him about his warning. She looked like a hound on a trail.

Neville just hoped that Harry wouldn't give in and tell her his family's secrets.

Neville didn't know much about the Potters, but what he knew spoke of a family of Olde Ones - or worse. Even if it had been just rumours and the Potters had never said anything about it, there was still the idea that the Potters were descendants of the first born grim - descendants of Death himself. Neville didn't want to know what would happen if Harry would ever divulge the secrets of Death to somebody who had nothing to do with the family…

Moody and Sirius needed a whole week, until they finally found what Moody had been looking for. In a box, hidden on top of a cupboard in one of the unused upper rooms, they stumbled upon some leather bound books.

To their surprise, the books weren't cursed or dark at all.

Nevertheless, Moody used a stick he had conjured to open the first one. He wasn't willing to touch the book at all if he didn't have to as long as he didn't know what they were about.

The leather of the book was old and some parts looked as if they had been soaked in a brownish substance.

Sirius Black stood back while watching the older wizard opening the book.

The book didn't have a title, instead, it started with a hand-written entry.

Moody slowly crept near the book to be able to read the first words of the entry.

6 th August 1914

Father was agitated when he returned from the Wizengamot today. There's a new threat in wizarding Europe - a man who kills of mudbloods, half-Bloods and those with lost magic - squibs, like everybody else calls them.

Father doesn't care about the others, but to kill of those with lost magic just because they were born with their magic locked away instead of free like mine to him is criminal.

That other families joined that mad man and the rest of Britain doesn't care at all that the criminal Grindelwald is wreaking havoc all over Europe is something that Father can't bear.

So when he returned home, he asked us children to come to his office to decide what our family will do now. My brother Arcturus proposed to go to war and while Father is all for it, he has forbidden Arcturus to go until at least his wife has had her first child which is due in six months' time.

I was forbidden to go as well, since I am the heir - even if I have already children of my own who can take over the lordship if I die. My brother Cygnus on the other hand will leave tomorrow to aid those who fight that mad man on the country. I just pray that he'll stay alive, so that he can see his two-year-old son grow up.

I talked it over with my beloved Hesper a few hours ago. I hope, my sons and daughter will forgive me, but my Archie is old enough with his thirteen years, to look after his younger siblings if I die.

I will go.

I will leave at night in three days' time.

If you read this after I died in battle, Father, then I want you to know, that I'm sorry, but I can't sit by and watch my brothers go to war.

Sirius Phineas Black

Interestingly, it was Sirius who spoke up first after reading.

"Damn," he said. "And I thought I was the first one who went against the family's wishes…"

Moody snorted.

"I'm more surprised that you're named after a man who defied the family," he said gruffly. "With such a name's patron, it's no surprise that you rebelled as well…"

The answer was a smug look from one Sirius Black.

"Seems like I'm at least living up to my name," he said proudly.

Moody rolled his good eye and then reached out for the book. Since it clearly wasn't about dark arts or otherwise spelled, he could definitely read it in a bit nicer setting he thought.

Maybe, just maybe, the book would have some answers about what happened to his father, after all…

August - September 1914

"You know," Charlus Potter said slowly while watching the world burn. "This might make us look as if we are a tad insane…"

Sirius Black frowned and looked at the chaos surrounding them as well.

"You… might be right there, Potter," he said slowly and unwillingly.

Ollivander next to them snorted in amusement.

"Oh, c'mon, you two!" He exclaimed. "Don't look like your cat just died! You should be happy!"

Charlus and Sirius Black stared at Ollivander with a look that clearly showed what they thought of that suggestion.

"Happy?" Charlus Potter repeated incredulous. "Happy?!"

Sirius Black looked at Ollivander in disgust.

"I doubt I'd ever feel happy again after what just happened!"

In that moment Allaric Moody left the burning camp in front of them to join them on the hills.

"Why all those long faces?" He asked a bit confused.

Ollivander snickered like a school girl and pointed at the unhappy looking men next to them.

"They're… unsatisfied… with the result," he told one of his best friends.

Allaric raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" He asked confused. "The camp is eradicated. The wards are in shambles. The enemy has lost some valuable intelligence and men today - and we managed all this with just four people!"

Charlus Potter and Sirius Black both stared unhappily at Allaric Moody while Ollivander had to hide another snicker with both of his hands.

"Exactly," Ollivander chocked out amused. "That's exactly the problem they're having right now!"

Allaric Moody frowned and then looked back at the destroyed hide-out of the enemy.

"I don't understand," he said confused. "It worked! Isn't that the most important thing?"

Charlus and Sirius grimaced while avoiding to look at each other.

"That it did," Ollivander pressed out while trying not to give into his laughing fit. "That it did!"

And when the faces of the other two men darkened, he added, nearly suffocating on his laughter.

"They didn't want it to work," he choked out. "Because if it worked, that means that they could work together as ward-breakers - and they don't want to admit that they're compatible! They're a Potter and a Black! They're always on the opposite in a conflict! It's bad enough that they're on the same side - but working together as well?"

Ollivander snickered again - at least until he was elbowed into both of his sides at the same time.

He looked up and saw the Black-Heir and the Potter-Heir both glaring at him.

Ollivander raised his hands in defeat.

"It's not my fault!" He defended himself. "I just suggested another ward-master for Black! I had actually no idea that you two would actually work exceptionally good with each other!"

Sirius pouted and Charlus buried his head in his hands.

"This will be a catastrophe," he mumbled into his hands. "A total catastrophe! The Lords of the Wizengamot will die in masses from a heart-attack if this ever comes out!"

Ollivander snickered while Allaric hid a grin.

"Don't worry!" Allaric finally snorted. "We won't say a thing! We're taking it to our graves, I promise!"

Ollivander chocked on another laughter.

"I won't!" He forced out. "I won't! It's far too funny to tell and watch the world burn after!"

He was elbowed and glared at again from both sides again.

"Look at you two!" He snickered. "Not only one brain on the battlefield - but off it as well! Next thing we know, your children will be best friends forever more!"

"Only over my dead body!" Both Heirs exclaimed at the same time. "And we're nothing alike, Ollivander - so shut up!"

Their chorus just made Ollivander laugh even harder.

The two grown men pouted, looked at each other, grimaced and looked away again.

"They're going to think we've gone insane!" Charlus moaned.

"Don't remind me!" Sirius replied. "I'm still working out how to obliviate myself of those last four hours of my life!"

And while Allaric watched with a raised eyebrow, Garrick Ollivander toppled over in laughter.

Regulus Black was waiting for him at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

"Now, that we have destroyed the ring, what will we do?" He asked the younger looking man the moment the other one entered.

Harry stopped in his tracks.

"I've read the ward book of the castle," Harry replied, his eyes dark with unhappiness. "They haven't been updated in over thirty years."

Regulus frowned.

"That's… not good, right?" He asked and Harry shook his head.

"It isn't," he said. "Especially considering that the last placed wards are harmful for the existing ones. The blood wards of the Founders are nearly drained and the soul wards have gone dormant."

Regulus frowned.

"So - what does it mean for us?" He enquired with a frown.

Harry sighed.

"I'm nearly done with the ward scheme I've been writing," he told the older looking man. "In one or two days' time I should be far enough to apply it to the current castle wards. Now that I know the wards that are active and that have been applied to the wards already existing, I'm able to work around them to ensure that we find the Horcrux hidden within the castle with the help of the ward I'm working on."

For a moment, Harry looked up to the ceiling without truly seeing it then he shook his head thoughtfully.

"Thanks to the weakened wards it might take a day or two to actually see the result of the ward I plan to add," he added with a frown. "My ward will also strain the weakened wards further, so we have to be quick while using it so that I can dissolve it soon or the children might be unprotected because the wards of Hogwarts crashed."

Regulus' eyes narrowed.

"I thought the wards of Hogwarts are the safest in the world," he said slowly and Harry inclined his head.

"The original ones are," he said. "Sadly, those are inactive right now and to activate them, I have to rip down the current ones which would leave the children unprotected for at least a day or two. I'm still willing to do it - but not as long as Albus Dumbledore is the Headmaster of Hogwarts and can stop me. It would be disastrous if he stopped me in the middle of ripping down the wards. Breaking wards can kill you instantly if you don't have the finesse or the power to hold them until you're through. Disrupting while someone is breaking down the wards is as dangerous as not knowing what you do."

Regulus nodded.

"I know," he said. "I might have no idea about wards in general, but I remember the stories my grandfather told me when I was a child."

The answer was a smile from Harry.

"Oh," he said fondly. "Arcturus. I remember him well. He might have never been a ward's master, but he knew quite a bit about them. His father and uncles were some of the best ward-breakers I ever met…"

That stopped Regulus in his thought-process.

"You knew my grandfather?" He asked surprised.

Harry smiled.

"Him and a lot of other Blacks," he said with a smile. "I have never met a family as entrenched in the dark arts as the Blacks - and I have never met a family who has brought forth so many rebels as well."

For a moment, Harry looked at Regulus thoughtfully.

"Maybe," he said slowly. "It has something to do with the names. It's always a Sirius, a Regulus or an Andromeda who rebels, you know? Others might follow them in the end - but it always starts with them. What a funny consistence considering that there has been a Sirius or a Regulus or an Andromeda at least every second generation for hundreds of years in your family."

Regulus blinked in surprise then he snorted.

"Or there are all three in one generation and yet, they still don't rebel together," he said amused.

Harry grinned.

"How true," he said amused. "And now let me explain how my ward scheme will work so that you can help me find that damn Horcrux the moment I've applied it to the castle…"

Minerva McGonagall was on the way to the Great Hall, when she was stopped by a dreamy looking fourth year Ravenclaw.

"Oh, Professor!" The girl exclaimed. "Have you seen the wrackspurts surrounding your head? There're awfully many, you know?"

Minerva frowned at the odd Ravenclaw.

"I can assure you, Miss Lovegood," she said. "That there are no wrackspurts surrounding my head."

The dreamily looking girl just looked at her pityingly.

"But there are, Professor," she told her sadly. "Your thoughts are all fuzzy because of them. You should do something against them, you know?"

Minerva frowned at the girl.

"And what do you propose that I do about them?" She asked the girl after determining that the girl wouldn't go away by herself.

Luna Lovegood contemplated the answer for just a second.

"Maybe, Professor," she said slowly. "You should just listen to others and follow their advices. They sometimes know more than you think, you know?"

Then the odd girl crooked her head.

"Of course," she added. "You can always go to our prince as well. He might even be able to tell you some stories of those you want to know about!"

And with that, the girl gave Minerva a blinding smile, before curtseying and dancing off the other way.

Minerva's eyes followed the girl - just to stop at the door to the library.

Again, her thoughts returned to Longbottom's words from a few days ago.

" Especially in the current dark times the old houses have to stand strong - and Longbottom would be looked down upon if I stepped back and hid behind my grandmother's robes. You should know this, Professor. You are, after all, also part of the Wizengamot," he had told her. "Maybe you should look up your ancestry, Professor. You might be surprised when you take a look at the families in the Wizards' Council."

But Albus would have told her, wouldn't he? He knew of her belief that she was of common stock, after all…

" You are, after all, also part of the Wizengamot. Maybe you should look up your ancestry, Professor."

Minerva shook her head to quieten those thoughts.

"This is madness," she told herself. "Utter madness!"

And yet, those thoughts, now returned to her thanks to the odd and dreamy Ravenclaw girl, weren't leaving her alone.

What if…?

Albus Dumbledore sat unhappily at his desk inside his office.

Something was off - and it had nothing to do with the worsening of Harry Potter's connection with one Tom Marvolo Riddle.

No, it was the castle itself that seemed off to Albus somehow. There was a silent watching, a silent waiting air surrounding it, following Albus everywhere he went. The wards were humming.

Yes, something was off, but Albus Dumbledore had no idea what it could be - and he didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

"Oh Fawkes," he said to the phoenix on the perch in his office. "I wish I knew what's actually happening here…"

He shook his head.

"I just hope it's not a new ploy from Tom," he said sighing. "If it is, I have no doubt that Harry will be in the middle of it, and with him affected by their connection that much, it might not go over as well as it did in the past…"

No, Albus couldn't use one of Voldemort's ploys right now - at least not until he had managed to free Harry a bit from the enemy's influence.

"I wonder what happened to the Malfoys," he said to himself then he shook his head. He had to talk to Alastor Moody, the sooner the better. Who knew what his old friend had been doing while Albus was watching his school, after all…

Fawkes meanwhile looked at the headmaster pityingly.

How could that old manipulator not feel the power of the lord of the castle trenching the wards? Soon, the headmaster would be just one step away from losing every influence he had over the castle to the one who was its true master.

And Fawkes was sure that the master of the castle wasn't setting out to be lenient in his quest to take back what was rightfully his…