Reading Time: 112 Minutes
Title: Enduring
Author: MykkiTno
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: Contemporary, Drama, Family, Fantasy, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Paranormal/Supernatural
Relationship(s): Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape/Sirius Black
Content Rating: R
Warnings: Hate Crimes, Hate Speech, Slavery, Torture, Violence-Domestic, Violence-Against Children, Abuse-Child, Discussion-Child Abuse, Dubious Consent(magical bonds without a discussion but still wanted), Non-Con(magical Control and coercion), Mild Sexual Content, hom*ophobia, Disturbing Imagery, character bashing, magic withdrawal, magic addiction, non-consensual magic use. Discussion on drug usage(potions) and withdrawal. Major Character Death (canonical death, but in a non-canonical way)
Alpha: I need to thank three people for their patience and help in wrangling this massive work into a cohesive whole, Hourstillnoon, Vi and Kait for their unfailing feedback and support. They let me natter and plot out loud or suffer when I panic and send a quick blurb asking if it made sense, and their fast responses mean everything to me. SO thanks!
Word Count: 88,647
Summary: During Yule of Harry’s fifth year, he finds something in the Chamber of Secrets that answers questions he hadn’t realized he had, but he keeps the knowledge hidden until he can’t anymore. Resorting to Dark Magic isn’t something he thought he’d do, but the changes it wrought aren’t ones he regrets because the alternative would have made things worse.
Artist: CoCo
Draco’s head thunked against the bathroom wall, a groan echoing around the steam-filled room as Harry pressed a kiss to his stomach and rose to his feet, still licking his lips. “You taste phenomenal, love.”
“And you’re unnaturally good at that.” Draco shuddered as a towel wrapped around his waist, “Merlin, how are you so good at that?”
“I’m a sixteen-year-old teen. I’m surprised I can function with you invading my thoughts.” Harry admitted, nuzzling the side of Draco’s neck.
For a single second, Draco leaned into it and then jerked back in horror, feeling Harry’s teeth scrape his skin. “Don’t even think about it, Potter! You’re not marking me like some barbarian before the ball. Are you crazy?”
Huffing a pout, Harry pulled off, “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
“Because your ring on my hand and the band around my wrist don’t already indicate that?” Draco asked sarcastically. Then he pushed Harry’s weight off of him and moved to stand in front of the skin, shivering as Harry plastered himself to Draco’s bare back. “We have to get ready, love.”
“I know,” Harry admitted, pressing a kiss to Draco’s neck, “but you’re an inspiration standing there like that.”
Draco turned in his soulmate’s arms cutting him off with a heated kiss, as Harry opened his mouth to continue. Breathessley he pulled back, helplessly leaning for to peak his lips before whispering against them, “I love you, but if you don’t stop talking, we’re going to be more than fashionably late, and I’d never live down the shame. My mother would never forgive me, and we’d miss the reaction from Dumbledore.”
A heavy sigh escaped Harry, and he stepped back, letting Draco turn around again, “Yeah and whatever Riddle has planned.”
“You really think he’s going to show?” Draco asked, meeting Harry’s eyes in the mirror.
Unwillingly, Harry nodded and admitted softly, “Magic left just enough for him to find me, along with the idea he needs to confront me.” He dropped his head, hiding his face in Draco’s shoulder, “It’s why I suggested the Dverger as security; between him and Dumbledore, they’re the one wildcard neither will know how to combat and won’t be willing to aggravate.”
Grinning, Draco turned his head, pressing a kiss against the silky hair tickling his cheek. “Positively, Slytherin, love, I’m so proud of you.”
Chuckling softly, Harry squeezed his hips, lifted his head to kiss Draco’s lips, and then stepped back. “The best snake is one you don’t see coming, amor.”
Draco wrinkled his nose. “Your accent is atrocious. Now shoo, leave the scruff, and get dressed. We have 45 minutes before the first guests arrive.”
Harry blushed at the comment but didn’t argue and walked towards the door to the walk-in closet, tossing his towel over the hook before disappearing inside with a flash of his bare ass.
“You’re shameless, Hadrian Peverell,” Draco shouted after him with a groan, earning him a laugh from inside the closet.
***
Two hours later, Harry was expertly turning Draco through a rotation of the waltz, earning a proud, dazzling smile from his soulmate, and felt his shoulders relax at the look. “Impressed, my dragon?”
“Undoubtedly, but it’s only through the grace of my tutelage.” Draco drawled, eyes scanning the crowds before fixating on something over his shoulder, “Dumbledore and the Weasleys have arrived.”
Grimacing, Harry nodded, “I felt them cross the wards, and Medea agreed there’s something not right about Ron or Molly, but can’t determine what it is.”
Draco frowned, tearing his gaze away as Harry pulled him close. The inappropriateness was only compounded by the soft, loving kiss Harry dropped on his mouth. Feeling a flush climb his cheeks, Draco returned the pressure, pressing closer, and whispered in his ear, “So naughty, love, you’ve just given every gossip here fodder for the next six months.”
Shrugging carelessly, Harry flashed him a grin as they spun around the room again, the swell of conversation lost in the swirl of colours.
As the music ended, Harry bowed formally and then offered his arm, letting Draco steer towards Narcissa, who stood regally off to the side holding court, with Sirius and Severus flanking either side of her as if she were the countess. Both men wore expressions of polite boredom, though their eyes flashed with amusem*nt as an older lady scolded Dumbledore, who was hovering in the background with the Weasleys behind him.
“You’ll just have to wait your turn, Albus. Such a shame if your blessed mother could see you now, unfashionably late to the event of the year.”
Draco fought to keep the smile off his face as he stopped in front of his mother, hand curled possessively around Harry’s bicep, and offered a semi-formal bow. “Lady Bagshot, I’m so pleased you could come.” He glanced at Harry, a twinkle in his eyes he didn’t try to hide. “My love, may I?”
A smile tugged at Harry’s lip. Hearing the gasp from the Weaslette, he inclined his head: “I don’t need an introduction to England’s most renowned historian and author, sweetheart.”
“Oh, you flatter.” She softly wrapped Harry on the knuckles with her fan. “You’re just as sweet as your sister, Your Grace.” Lady Bagshot grinned wickedly as the crowd behind her froze. “Though I would still appreciate a formal introduction, it’s not every day one meets a Duke of legend.”
Grinning happily, Harry bowed formally, kissing her hand flawlessly: “The Duke of Warwick, Lord Hadrian Peverell, at your service, my lady.” He paused and tilted his head to the side, considering, “It would be remiss of me not to introduce my companion.”
“Oh, I know Heir Malfoy. He was always a faithful listener at these functions when I no longer had the stamina to dance the night away,” Lady Bagshot said with a sad sigh, “he’s a beautiful dancer, as I’m sure you noticed, Your Grace.”
“I have, but Draco is more than Heir Malfoy, Lady Bagshot, may I?” He confirmed and then asked with a sly glint that she seemed to respond like a hound during a fox chase.
Glancing between the two with avid eyes she nodded, “If it please you, Your Grace.”
“It does very much, Lady Bagshot. May I introduce you to Consort Warwick, Lord Draconis Malfoy? He assumed his father’s lordship after his recent mishap.”
“Nasty business,” Lady Bagshot muttered darkly. “He deserves it for the desecration of an ancient site.” She turned her bright eyes towards Draco and appraised him carefully. “You do your family magic proud, Your Grace. It’s nice to see the light back in the Malfoy line. Like Septimus, Nicoli was the opposite of his father in every way. Seeing the same twisted obsession in my great nephew was disheartening.”
“Lady Bagshot, I believe you’ve taken more time than is polite,” Dumbledore interrupted, his voice stiff.
Her eyes flashed as she turned to glare at him. “I’m not sure if it was Gellert’s influence or just your own uncouth behaviour, but it’s impolite to interrupt a private conversation, never mind approach a Duke with the intention to scold,” Lady Bagshot straightened her back, pulling a few hidden inches from her bent from, “I followed the rules of polite society, approaching the hostess who granted an introduction. You might be the Head Master of Hogwarts, but you have no social standing beyond that at this evening’s festivities, so I suggest you zip your lips and wait your turn for the Duke to address you directly.”
A dozen spectators surrounding them twittered behind their hands as Albus Dumbledore stood there bewildered at being addressed in such a manner, his face flushing a ruby red in growing anger. “My apologies, Lady Bagshot, Your Grace. I just wish to congratulate the boy on his title.”
“That boy is the Duke of Warwick. Don’t be crude, Albus; it’s an affront to every noble here.” Lady Bagshot snapped, snapping her fan open and brushing him away as she turned back. “I apologize, Your Grace. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
Breaking into a huge grin, Harry waved off her apology: “No apologies necessary, My Lady. I’m known to have a temper myself, though my soulmate has been a huge assistance in managing it.” He leaned forward, dropping his voice as if whispering, “I don’t have the patience for idiots or stupidity, and Draco’s a wonderful distraction.”
At the bomb, Draco flushed and pressed closer, hand caressing Harry’s wrist, earning a kiss to the temple, which made Lady Bagshot sigh happily. “Oh, I’m so happy for you. It’s an honour. May I ask if you’re seeking Lady Magic’s blessing? I only inquire because the last few generations never think to acknowledge the gift they received.”
Harry inclined his head, “We both understood and appreciated the gift Hecate had given us. We give thanks daily for being blessed, but we’ll be performing a bonding ceremony privately.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Lady Bagshot gushed with an excited little clap of her hands, “now on that delicious and delightful note, you should rejoin your guest. I’ll see if I can track down your sister and see if she’d like to sit with me for a spell; she asked such delightful questions.”
Hermione and Pansy appeared at that moment, leading Daphne, Blaise, and a tall, regal woman.
Draco took a minute to place them, and he gave his friend a shocked look, to which Blaise shrugged helplessly.
Hermione sunk into a short curtsy and then flushed as Pansy giggled, “I know I’ve been whispering manners in your ear all evening, but he’s your brother.”
“Whispering? More like drilling, Pansy,” Hermione rolled her eyes and leaned against Harry, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “She’s relentless, Harry, and this is exhausting. I take back all the excitement and offers to help you change society. I’m ready for bed, a nice cup of tea, and a bath, not necessarily in that order.”
Pressing a kiss to the top of Hermione’s head, he couldn’t stop the chuckle, “It’s how we feel when you get into revision mode in October, love.”
“October?” Pansy asked, horrified. “Oh no, Blaise dearest, she just might be your soulmate, so you can take over. I’m going to go find that delightfully shy seventh-year Ravenclaw and get a dance.” She dropped a deep curtsy and disappeared with a fluttering wave over her shoulder. “Introductions, Lady Hermione. Then you can rest.”
Whining briefly, Hermione burrowed closer before sighing and straightening, “Harry, may I introduce you to Lady Zabini, the Countess of Ashley, and her son Lord Blaise Zabini, Heir of Casali?” Hermione paused and then flushed again, “Did I do that right?”
Harry looked baffled, but Draco rescued her. “You did, though if Blaise had the title, he would have gone first as he’s heir to a Marquee.”
Flashing a grateful smile towards Draco, Hermione beaconed Daphne closer and linked arms, “And this is Lady Daphne Greenglass, friends, this is the Duke of Warwick, Lord Hadrian Peverell, Earl of Exmoor, and Baron Ingis, the Heir of Islington.” As everyone dropped bows and curtsy, Hermione flagged again, leaning against Harry, who patted her hand and hid a grin as he whispered in her ear, “You forgot someone.”
“I did not!” Hermione denied hotly, “The Countess, Blaise, Daphne, you…” She trailed off, looking horrified and heartbroken. “Oh, I’m terrible at this. I’m so sorry.”
Harry shook his head and pulled her into a hug. “I was teasing Mione, so relax, breathe, and continue.”
Hermione did as ordered and blotted the tears that threatened, “Sorry, Merlin, this is overwhelming, Lord and Lady Zabini, and Lady Daphne, forgive me, this is the Consort of Warwick, Lord Draconis Malfoy, and I’m going to find a vat of wine and a corner to panic, excuse me.” She dropped a deep curtsy and suited actions to words, making a beeline towards the refreshment room. The Weasley sibling slipped between the crowds to follow, not noticing the nod from Draco, as Daphne and Blaise hesitated for only a second before following, leaving Harry grateful as Lady Bagshot chuckled in delight, “I’m definitely going to owl that remarkable lady, Your Grace, she’s a delightful and refreshing surprise, I hope you don’t object.”
“Never, my Lady. I’m positive Hermione would jump at the chance to start a correspondence with you.” Lady Bagshot smiled brightly, and dropped a curtsy. “Now, I will take my leave and let you speak with Albus before he strokes out behind me, Countess?” Lady Bagshot turned to the Countess of Ashley, smiled gracefully, slipped an arm through the younger Lady’s, who steered her away chiding her with a gentle tone. “Let me help, Bethilda. You know you shouldn’t be walking unassisted.”
Harry watched them walk away, feeling Sirius move behind him to stand at his back. Turning his attention to the headmaster, Harry watched the older man fidget, clearly uncomfortable, not knowing how to react. “You look good, Harry.”
“It’s Hadrian, Head Master,” Harry replied evenly, “but the appropriate form of address would be Your Grace, given my rank as the Duke of Warwick.”
“My boy,” Albus began, his face reflecting his surprise as Arthur huffed behind him and stepped between them, his face red with anger.
“That’s enough, Albus. You may leave if you can’t give The Duke of Warwick the respect he deserves.” Arthur glared until Albus cast a disappointed look towards Harry. Then, he offered a clipped bow and stalked away, robes billowing behind him in a parody of Snape’s worst days.
Harry bit his lip to hide his amusem*nt and turned his attention to Arthur and Molly, who shifted uncomfortably before they offered the correct bows, “Your Grace, I speak for myself and my wife, but you need to know, we are proud of you. Claiming your titles at such an age is a burden that shouldn’t have been necessary, yet I understand at least why you have.” Arthur threw a dark look over his shoulder where Albus was sulking in the corner and squeezed Molly’s hand when she opened her mouth as if to argue, “Your parents would be unbelievably proud of you, Your Grace.” Arthur bowed again, dipped his head in a nod towards Sirius, and then nudged Molly to curtsy before leading her away.
Harry deflated the tension building across his shoulders, disappearing when he discovered that the Weasleys and Dumbledore had arrived. He hadn’t been sure inviting them had been a good idea, but knew that Narcissa had been right, the power play had been needed. It let both sets know he wasn’t to be trifled with just because of their shared history.
Sirius clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, “You did good, pup.”
“You sure? I feel like I should have acknowledged Ron at least,” Harry muttered, accepting the glass of wine Draco held out, having snagged it from a passing servant.
“Has he written to you once this summer?” Sirius asked with a raised brow.
Shaking his head, Harry tossed a less-than-polite swallow back, making Sirius lift an eyebrow as Severus snorted beside his husband. “There you go, then. Ron may not be landed, but he is pureblood. He knows he slighted you, not just as a friend but as a noble. He has to deal with that, and it’s not something you can help.”
“I know,” Harry sighed, finishing the glass and setting it on a little table off to the side. “Okay, you can stop placating me. I’m going to dance with my husband again; he looks bored.”
Draco huffed in mock offence but eagerly accepted his hand. “It’s a party, and I love to dance, husband.”
“I know, Dragon,” Harry whispered as they fell into the familiar patterns of the dance. He drew Draco close as he spun him around the room, breaking into a smile as Draco laughed in delight.
***
At midnight, refreshments appeared on little tables around the room, the dance floor emptying of people as the choir took a break, the interlude accepted graciously as small groups formed, gossiping happily.
Watching the room, it was easy to see who had been affected by Riddle’s punishment. Looking pale and green, Lord Nott was barely upright as he leaned heavily on a cane, face blank but eyes terrified, and it was clear that he didn’t want to be there. Sweeping the room once again, Harry tagged seven other men, suffering as well, and kept watch as they seemed to move as one, others appearing to join them as they closed ranks and stood for a moment as if waiting. Harry kept an ear on the conversation the four Slytherins were engaged in with Hermione. A tingling along his spine made him meet Sirius’s gaze from across the room, the older man nodding once, fingering his wand as if waiting for the single. Tightened his arm around Draco’s waist, Harry shifted slightly, putting more of himself in front of Draco, and lifted his chin as a group of people strolled to the middle of the dance floor before parting with an arrogance that was hilarious, revealing the man in the middle who was gazing at Harry with absolute hatred.
“Harry Potter.”
A powerful silence descended on the room. Harry would have suspected a charm if he knew none of them had any power to overcome Medea, and he straightened his back, “Riddle.”
The wreck of a man hissed angrily, “You dare!”
Shrugging carelessly, Harry stepped forward, waving his hand behind him, wordlessly casting a shield, “It’s your name, Tom.”
“I’m Lord Voldemort, you stupid boy.” Riddle spat and then coughed, his face flushing with rage and embarrassment.
“I might be considered a boy, given your age, but I’m not stupid,” Harry replied, folding his arms. “I’m not stupid enough to try to preserve my life by going against the founding principles that Salazar built his magic on.”
The room blinked, heads swivelling morbidity to see the reply, and they weren’t disappointed when Riddle raised a finger and shrieked at him, “Curse him.”
Unsurprisingly, it was Nott who tried. Harry rolled his eyes, carelessly waving his hand and batting the weak spell away, deflecting it towards the ceiling even though he saw the shield rippling around the circle of the dance floor. “You’re really going to have to try harder. Though a bit of advice, you or your followers can do nothing to me.”
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO-?” Riddle screamed, voice cracking as he choked on the last word, sending him into a coughing fit again, blood dotting his lips. His breath was coming in his pants as he swayed, “What have you done?”
Crossing the floor and sliding through the shield, Harry waved his hand, and ropes erupted from his wand, binding the followers who flopped to the floor, “Fulfilled a prophecy, but I did it my way. I petitioned magic in the old ways when I claimed my inheritance, and she granted.” Harry stopped in front of Tom Riddle and knelt in front of the broken man who collapsed to the floor with a pain-filled gasp, “You damned yourself when you sought immortality; Salazar’s founding principle was simple, Tom.”
“What do you know of my ancestor?” Tom demanded breathlessly as he gazed up at him.
Smiling gently, Harry tilted his head and spoke, the soft hissing widening Tom’s eyes, “More than you, cousin, we’re descended from Cadmus Peverell, who married Salazar’s granddaughter, fourth generation. I, from the elder son’s line, which fell into a squib line within five generations, married first into the Warren line and then the Evans. You come from the youngest daughter, who married into the Rosenburg line before marrying the Gaunt line, a line more squib than magical. When you attacked and killed my mother, Salazar’s magic recognized the rightful Heir, me, pure of heart and intent, and the thirteenth generational child, born at the midpoint of a decade change.”
Eyes bright and feverish, Tom reached out and gripped his hand, the old man’s strength non-existent. “What was his principle?”
“Trust in the cycles of life; all things have their time, and all things come full circle,” Harry replied softly. “Your lieutenant had the right idea. In redemption is forgiveness, and I can forgive you for being duped by an old and desperately bitter man.”
Tom blinked, tears filling his eyes, “What?”
“The prophecy was never about you, Tom,” Harry replied, feeling a spark of sorrow for the old man before him, confusion swirling in his red eyes.
Seeing sanity and horror fill them was startling as Tom swallowed hard and whispered, “But my magic, it’s gone. You….”
Harry shook his head, “All I did was demand and claim by birth and blood, first in line, the rights of magic. I left judgment and punishment up to her, which she claimed. You damned yourself when you created your horcruxes, taking everything you sought immorally; family, acceptance, magical prestige, and immortality.”
Tom was quiet for a long time before he lifted his head. “What happens now?”
“You face judgment before society for your crimes,” Harry replied softly in English, “through the Dverger, I trust them to treat you fairly while awaiting trial.”
“Can’t you just kill me? We already know I’m guilty.”
Tom huffed in defeat as Harry shook his head. “If Magic wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Take the time to think. She might be offering you redemption like Lucius fought and lost at.”
Lifting his head, Harry nodded to Ragnok, who stood outside the circle. His people were swarming the wizards and popping away, taking Riddle last. As Harry stood, raising his hands to stop the swell of panic, Ragnok came to stand beside him.
“Lords and Ladies, I know none of you really know me as other than the Boy Who Lived, but I’m asking for calm and patience,” Harry spoke over the rumble of voices and waited for them to fall silent. “That was the wizard previously known as Voldemort. His real name is Tom Riddle Junior, born of Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle Senior.”
Noise exploded over the room, and Harry waited unmoving until they quieted again and spoke softly, “I know you’re scared, and the news hasn’t helped that in the last few weeks, but I swear on my magic that was Voldemort, rendered squib by Magic as punishment for his crimes against me,” He titled his head to Ragnok, “This is the Dverger Chiefton, Ragnok, who has graciously offered one of their cells to hold Riddle over until his trial where he will face judgement-”
“He deserves to die!” Someone shouted from the crowd, making Harry frown and demand.
“Who are you to question, Lady Magic?” When no response came, Harry continued, “If my adopted father’s incarceration taught me anything, everyone deserves the right to a fair trial, no matter the crime or apparent guilt. Tom Riddle and his surviving followers will face the Dverger Court. Ragnok and I have agreed that the insularity between our two societies is at an end. We are sitting down together and rewriting treaty laws skewed toward our favour. As their Patron, the first in five hundred years, Ragnok granted me this boon. They are a neutral party, and as the right of conquest, I demand that, and it will be met and upheld.”
“Why do you get to demand that?”
A humourless laugh left Harry, and he turned to stare directly at Albus Dumbledore, his facade as grandfatherly gone as he glared at him. Harry lifted his chin, “Because I fulfilled the prophecy, Head Master, it’s my right as his victim to demand a trial, and as the highest title in the room, I can enforce it. Tom Riddle’s story will be told before the world so the population can understand he was just a man. A man who was twisted and warped by circ*mstance, opportunity, greed, and miseducation.”
Albus’s eye twitched, his hands clenching at his side before he bowed sharply. “Well said, Your Grace. I commend you on your capacity to forgive.”
“Who said anything about forgiveness, Sir?” Harry asked curiously. “I never once said I forgive the man. His crimes are atrocious, but magic met and delivered his punishment; the trial is a formality to provide closure to the Wizarding world, that his reign of terror is ended. That’s my gift to society.”
The only response Harry got was a thinning of Albus’s mouth before the old man turned on his heel and stalked away, the crowd parting in shock at the blatant disrespect he showed. As he disappeared from the room, that was the only whisper that spread around the room.
Harry first met Sirius’s eyes and then Draco’s and nodded. The fall of Dumbledore had started, and it felt beautiful.
***
Magic crackled in the air around the seven people in the circle as Draco took a step forward, taking his hands, a look of awe on his face. Harry smiled and squeezed Draco’s hands, arranging their hands to cross in the middle, and took a breath, “I, Hadrian Cadmus James Peverell, offer my thanks to Lady Magic for the gift of you. I vow to protect, shelter, and treasure you always. I offer you my heart, magic and name until the Lady takes me home. So mote it be.”
Tears brightened Draco’s eyes, and he inhaled sharply and chuckled helplessly as a tear slid down his cheek, “You bastard, I wanted to get through this without crying.”
Shrugging, Harry leaned down and kissed Draco’s palms but didn’t let go.
Clearing his throat, Draco took a breath, “I, Draconis Black-Malfoy, offer my thanks to Lady Magic for the gift of you. I vow to support, guide and cherish you always. I offer my heart, magic, and love until the Lady takes me home. So mote it be.”
The five surrounding the circle repeated the vow, magic stilling as it swelled, thick and sweet, encompassing the two men in the inner circle. A gold rope appeared around their joined hands, looping in a figure eight, before flashing and appearing on their arms, a visual confirmation that magic had accepted and blessed the vow.
Harry bowed his head, overcome with emotion, “Thank you, Lady,”
“She says you’re welcome,” came a strangely familiar voice.
“Mom,” Head snapping up, Harry met Severus’s eyes, which shone with tears, “Lily…”
Two shimmering figures appeared beside Harry and Draco, making Sirius whimper, “James.”
“Hey Pads,” James’s voice echoed, and his figure shrugged, “We can’t stay long, but she let us have this moment.”
Lily spoke softly, “You’ve managed to figure out a decades-old prophecy that Albus has been working hard to circumvent for years, and we are so unbelievably proud of you, son.”
“I had help,” Harry protested, voice catching in his throat.
“You did, and in your selflessness by refusing to claim the victory as your own, the Lady blessed you twice over,” Lily replied, reaching up and touching the scar on his forehead. “You already have your soulmate, and when you need it, you’ll know how to end it.”
“She’s given me more than that. She blessed me with family, friends, and a life without fear. I can ask for nothing else and offer everything I am to honour that gift.” Harry whispered softly, tears falling unchecked down his cheeks.
“Live your life, son, cherish your soulmate, and honour your family and friends; you can give no greater service than that.” James responded and then glanced at Sirius, “That goes for you too, Sirius. You owe me nothing, and no apologies are needed because you did nothing wrong.”
Sirius bowed his head, sniffling hard.
Lily took James’s hand. “You’re included in that, Sev. You did the best you could under Albus’s thumb. You still honoured your vow and protected my son, no matter the danger to you, so thank you, both of you.”
Swallowing, Severus cleared his throat, “You’re welcome; the honour was mine.”
Magic filled the air again, and the figures dissipated, their voices mingling, “May the Circle be open but remain unbroken. May the peace of the Lady be ever in your heart. So mote it be.”
“So mote it be.”
****
Harry woke to the crack of a house elf appearing, Draco draped over his chest, whining at the noise.
“Sorry, Folly is disturbing your rest, Master Duke, but Sirius says you are having guests in the form of Head Master.”
Harry groaned, rubbing the grit of sleep from his eyes. He glanced at the clock before flopping onto the bed again. “I’ll be down shortly; I need to get dressed first.”
“Of course,” Folly paused briefly, “If not to forward, Folly is suggesting you take a shower too.”
Laughing hoarsely, Harry shook his head as Folly disappeared. Draco stretched slightly, rubbing his erection against his hip, “Sirius is a bad influence on his house elves; I know the Malfoy ones would have never dared to offer suggestions.”
“I think it’s grand,” Harry replied, his hand sliding down to the small of Draco’s back, stilling his movements. “That is going to take more time than we have.”
Draco lifted his head and offered a little grin: “Serves the old coot right. It’s not even nine. Gentile company dictates that tea time isn’t until the afternoon.”
“Is that so, and your suggestion is to let him kick up his heels while I entertain you?” Harry asked, brushing the white-silver hair back, as he rolled his bonded over, groaning as Draco arched into the action.
“That is exactly what I’m suggesting. We’ve held off on full penetrative sex for the last month, and I don’t want to wait any longer.” Draco said firmly, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck, “Don’t even try arguing, I’m determined to have my way with you.”
Grinning, Harry didn’t, leaning down and immediately turning the kiss into something dirty as he reached out a hand at the door, wordlessly casting a locking charm, and followed his husband’s lead by giving him what he wanted.
***
The grin Sirius gave him as he ambled down the stairs hours later told him without words that he looked just as debauched as he expected, considering he hadn’t even bothered dressing correctly, throwing on a pair of sweats and a hoodie. His hair wasn’t even worth trying to comb, considering how hard Draco had held it, and Harry was pretty sure there was still a curl where Draco’s hand had been.
Grinning back at his godfather, Harry slowed to a stop and glanced at the closed door of the formal parlour, “Has he done anything?”
Pursing his lips to fight back the smirk, Sirius shook his head. “He didn’t even seem phased that he was left alone, either.”
“He’s clearly agitated, though,” Severus said, coming to stand behind Sirius’s shoulder, eyes widening and a faint blush spreading across his cheeks, “Merlin, Potter. Have you no shame?”
“Have you seen my husband?” Harry asked with a cheeky laugh as Severus sputtered. Harry shrugged, rubbing a hand over his face before scratching the fuzz Draco was obsessed with and titled his head, “Have you ever been able to say no to Draco, Sev?”
The potion master’s eyes glistened, and he swallowed hard, clearing his throat awkwardly, and proceeded to ignore the question. “Yes, well, this is going to be weird, but neither of us feels comfortable with you in that room alone.” He held up a hand as Harry opened his mouth, “And we know you need to, so we compromised, as it were.”
Narcissa glided from around the corner, regally, not a hair out of place. Harry felt a hint of shame at how shabby he was in comparison as she lifted an eyebrow and gave him a look over, a flutter of amusem*nt hitting her eyes, “I assume my son is still showering?”
Horrified, Harry felt his face flame and shook his head because when he’d left their rooms, Draco had waved him away with an exhausted flutter of his hands, claiming he needed a nap to recover.
“Ah, I see.” Narcissa replied, “Hopefully, he’ll be up for tea this afternoon. I suspect we’ll have a flurry of activity shortly.”
“Yes, Cissy.” Harry replied dutifully, trying not to wince at how ominous and threatening ‘tea’ sounded. He still didn’t like tea, and no amount of tutoring Nacrissa provided had made him acquire a taste for the brew. He glanced between the three adults before settling on Severus as the one who had started. “You said you had a compromise?”
“We do,” Severus nodded to Narcissa, “Cissy is going to be with you, but you’re going to have to act naturally with her.”
Confused, Harry frowned, not understanding, until suddenly a solid black cat was sitting where Narcissa had stood, with speckles of white fur and solid blue eyes blinking up at him. ‘Oh, you’re adorable, and I need to learn how to do that.” Harry gushed and reached down to caress her head, hesitating as if waiting for permission, which she granted when she dipped her head. Caressing a hand over her head and ears, a rumble filled her chest as she pressed into his palm before rising to her feet and reaching up his leg.
Taking action as permission, Harry picked her up, marvelling at how light she was. Cradling her against his chest, Harry glanced between his godfather and Severus, “I got this.”
A flicker of pride shone in Sirius’s eyes as he nodded, “Yeah, you do.”
Straightening his back, Harry ran a hand down Narcissa’s back as she rested her head on his shoulder. Strolling towards the room Albus was waiting in. He hid a grin against the cat’s ears as the door swung open for his entrance.
Albus swung around from where he stood in front of the window, bright and searching, looking for anyone else set to follow him. The flash of condensation that flicked through Albus’s eyes made Harry sigh internally. “Good Morning, Head Master. It’s a little early for social calls, isn’t it?”
Albus’s face tightened as he reached his hand towards the couch, indicating that Harry should sit. “Are we expecting anyone else?”
“Not currently, though it is possible, Draco may join us. He’s currently penning letters.” Harry replied smoothly, taking the chair, throwing a leg carelessly over the arm, wincing as Narcissa pricked her nails into his chest at the action and felt the chair vibrate as Medea removed the compulsions. “So, how can I help you, Mr.Dumbledore? I’ve already submitted my married status to Professor McGonagall, who has written back confirming a private suite of chambers and the knowledge I can bring a vessel for both my husband and myself. We’ve confirmed our courses for our sixth year, and I only had to change one as it conflicted with an elective I was interested in taking. So, I can’t imagine why you’d need to speak to me unless you have an issue with the arrangements we’ve already made.”
Albus clenched his jaw as he sat in the chair across from him. “I’m sure your arrangements are fine; no, I had more pressing matters. Given Sirius’s lack of involvement with the Wizengamot, I would like to offer my tutelage with that and your holdings.”
“Oh, we have that under control, between ‘Mione, Pansy, and Mother,” he felt that cat freeze and offered an amused smirk at Albus’s blank look, “my husband’s mother, Narcissa, she kindly granted me permission to address her the same. The three ladies are extremely involved and have a full twenty-proof plan; I’ve been undergoing tutoring sessions all summer.”
A flicker of annoyance crossed Dumbledore’s face. “Maybe it would be better to hand off your proxy until after school ends. You will be much too busy to devote yourself to the duties you’ll find yourself under as well as your school work.”
Tilting his head, Harry hummed thoughtfully, “That might be an idea for later. Sessions don’t start until the end of September unless it’s an emergency meeting, so I’ll wait until later to make that decision.”
“I see, I’m disappointed to hear that my boy-“
“It’s Your Grace, Mr.Dumbledore. I’ve not given you permission to be overly familiar or friendly. We have a student/teacher connection, and that is it.” Harry interrupted firmly, petting the cat, dropping his gaze to hide his amusem*nt at the shock on Albus’s face. “Was there anything else? I must confess I’m still exhausted after last night. Draco and I didn’t go to bed until the sun was rising.”
The innuendo wasn’t lost on the Headmaster, who flushed, “I wish you had discussed your marriage beforehand. It might have been better for your public image to marry a good woman from a light family.”
“Eh,“ Harry blinked dumbly at the man, “why? Draco is light, Headmaster.”
A condescending expression twisted Albus’s face, and he sent Harry a pitying look, “Just because the witch or wizard is light means nothing of the family association, both Mr.Malfoy-“
“Consort Warwick, actually, married, remember?” Harry stated and then shook his head, “If you’re going to suggest that because Draco’s father and grandfather followed the rhetoric of dark lords, Draco will do the same, is bogus and an insult.” Harry sat up, adjusting the cat on his lap, as he glared at the Headmaster, “Draco’s family, who started the magical branch in England, served under William the Conqueror. They were twin Veela; one married a man named Sebastian Louvre, who took the Malfoy name; their son was Armand, the first Malfoy born in Britain. He was named the Baron of Avebury before his first birthday. His entire magical line was light and pure until 1817, when Nicoli Malfoy was betrayed by a one-sided bond with a Veela who worked for Napoleon. In his rage and grief at the betrayal, he subjected the future line to dark influence by banishing those of Veela blood from the family magic. That was corrected recently with my husband claiming the title even though Lucius is subjected to an involuntary stay at St.Mungo’s.” Harry was breathing hard by the time he finished. He drew in a deep breath to calm himself. Then he offered a careless shrug, glancing down at his hands, the previous gold band around his wrist now including a half-figure eight, “not that his magical affinity has any bearing on my love or soul bond with him, one blessed by magic last night.”
Dumbledore frowned, yet it wasn’t one Harry could decipher, not that he was interested in doing so. So he rose to his feet, “Was that all, Headmaster?”
“No, I don’t suppose there is,” Albus asked with a hint of finality to his tone and rose to his feet. “I hope you know that if you ever need assistance or change your mind, you’ll reach out, Harry Potter.”
“Considering you can’t do me the respect of calling me by my title, Headmaster, I don’t think that will happen,” Harry replied evenly.
Albus waved a hand dismissively. “Titles come and go. They mean nothing in the end, my boy.”
“Which was why you labelled me The Boy Who Lived or was that a mistake?” Harry asked with an ironic lift of his brow and continued as Albus glared at him, “Thankfully, I’ve taken pains to correct that.” Harry stated, setting the cat down in the chair, “I’m going to ask you to leave, Headmaster. Your attitude and disrespect are intolerable.”
“You left me to sit alone in a room for two hours. Don’t talk to me of disrespect.” Albus snapped waspishly.
Harry laughed and shook his head, “Considering you’re here interrupting my honeymoon, you’re lucky I even designed to appear. I’m a sixteen year old experiencing sex for the first time, which means I’d much rather be enjoying my husband’s very willing body.”
“Good day, Your Grace.” Albus bowed correctly, his tone snide as he swept from the room. His exit from the home was echoed by his muffled oaf as the door slammed shut behind him.
A moment later, Sirius came chuckling, lulling against the frame, “Medea snagged his robes in the door.”
“Serves the pretentious goat, right.” Narcissa snapped, sitting correctly in the chair, “You were right, Hadrian. His behaviour was intolerable. But if you ever say that about my son again in my hearing, I’ll hex you myself.”
Flushing as Sirius chuckled, Harry flipping his father off with a two finger salute and sighed, flopping onto the couch, smoothing the ruffles Dumbledore’s magic left behind.
Narcissa frowned at his action, “I’m surprised he didn’t try compulsion charms.”
“He did,” Harry offered with a snort and then held a hand up before she could respond. “It’s fine, mother.” He flushed as he stumbled over the last word but didn’t take it back as a faint blush of pleasure climbed her cheeks. “Medea removed the charms he attempted to cast, which is why he got progressively pushier, and I got ruder. I do apologize for what I said; I only did it to get under his skin.”
“It worked,” Severus stated as he once again appeared behind Sirius’s shoulder and then nodded to the window. “Albus threw a hissy fit, stomped on the flowers at the end of the walkway before passing over the wards, and apprated away.”
“Can you block him from coming back?” Harry asked Sirius, who nodded.
“I did it the second I felt him leave.” Sirius assured his godson, “I keyed it to his signature. He won’t get in.”
“Alright, I’m going to actually go get ready for the day.” He turned to Narcissa and asked in resignation, “Guest start arriving at 2?”
“There or about, but neither you nor Draco will appear before 2:30,” she replied and rose to her feet. “I’m going to peek in on the girls as they haven’t moved yet either, and then I’ll be in the library. I have some correspondence to take care of.”
Harry offered her his arm as she rose and led her from the room, earning a look of approval from the two men, who moved to stand in front of the window. There was no obvious contact between them, but Harry could see that they leaned into one another, a silent support, and offered a prayer to the Lady that nothing would separate them again.
The next few weeks went by so smoothly and fast. Harry was infinitely suspicious, half expecting an attack around any corner – Dumbledore or whatever was up with the strangely silent Weasley. It had alarmed him a week after the ball to realize Medea hadn’t shown them anything going on at Grimmauld place, and found out by fluke – when a remarkable healthy Kretecher popped into his and Draco’s suite with a snack tray that the Weasley had vacated the home, returning to the Burrow.
“Did they say anything before they left?” Harry asked in confusion.
“Not in front of Elder Weasley.” Kretcher admitted, voice croaking with age, “soon as back would turn, younger would goad boy.” The gold eyes of the house elf that met his made the hair rise on the back of his neck, and when Kretcher spoke again, the dread spread through Harry’s stomach, “Younger dabble in dark-dark stuff, Master Duke. Worse than Black Family, Kretcher has no words for it, but it wrong. Made Kretcher sick it did,” He paused and than glanced at the amulet Harry had on the mantel, “Worse then Master Regulus’s locket, Kretcher thanks you for fixing it.”
Harry’s eyes widened, snapping to the locket, “I didn’t steal it, Kretcher, I’d never do that.”
“Kretcher knows,” the elf dipped his head. “Magic given back to rightful owner, it is good.”
Harry looked at Draco, who was laid out on the bed, a sheet covering his lower half, and listened to the silent pulse of emotion. Then, crawling onto the bed, he pulled his soulmate into his arms, letting the other man distract him from his worry over Ron.
Now, the four of them stood on the platform of 9 ¾, waiting for Theo, Blaise, and Daphne, grateful for Sirius, Remus and Narcissa’s imposing presence that kept the gawkers from approaching. Of which there were more than usual, as it included witches and wizards who didn’t even have children and reporters who’d tried to get into their faces until Sirius had changed rapidly and without warning, growling and making the man squeak in terror and fall back, camera cracking onto the ground – it made the rest leave them alone.
Harry understood—he really did. That morning, the papers had issued a formal statement from Gringots alerting the world to the upcoming trial of Tom Riddle, and it was sure to be a spectacle of epic proportions. He wasn’t looking forward to it, even though it had been his demand.
Draco nudged his shoulder and glanced at his soulmate, who dipped his head. Harry followed his gaze and saw Molly Weasley trailed by Ron and Ginny. All three looked weird; Molly had a frantic energy that was almost neurotic. Ron was worse, plodding along, acting like the Neanderthal Draco had accused him of being years before, eyes dull and lifeless. Ginny seemed to be bounding along, oozing smug satisfaction as she caught sight of their party and pinched her mother’s arm. Molly jerked her head rapidly before her expression hardened, jaw clenching, and she reversed direction, stomping and shoving her way through the crowd, Ron wincing but following silently.
Draco and Hermione slipped hands into his, and Molly stumbled to a stop in front of him, hands on her hips. She glared at him. Her angry red flush increased when Harry said nothing: “Too good to greet me, young man?”
Narcissa’s horrified gasp sounded unnaturally loud in the sudden silence that filled the platform. She opened her mouth to intercede when Harry shook his head and spoke, “Considering you and your children have ignored my entire existence since I stepped off the train at the end of last term, including the letters I sent, why should I continue pushing my way in when it’s clear I’m not wanted?”
“That’s not true!” Molly protested. “I wanted you safe, and the safest place was with your relatives, Harry. Surely you know that.”
“I know that Draco rescued me and saved my life from my relatives, so the concept of being ‘safe’ with them is a weak excuse.” Harry replied dryly, “You knew exactly how my relatives treated me back in the second year when the twins mounted a rescue from that home; the fact that you allowed me to be sent back and claim it safe is an insult.”
Molly’s eyes glistened, glazing over before she jolted as if stung and she drew herself to her full height, “well, I never-”
“Of course you haven’t, Molly.” Narcissa’s drawled voice filled with ice, “Didn’t your husband offer his apologies the night of the ball?”
Molly’s blue eyes blinked in confusion as she glanced at Narcissa, the noblewoman raising an elegant brow. “He may not have come out and said the words specifically considering the location, but he did say he understood Hadrian’s duty.”
“His name is Harry.” Ginny hissed angrily, folding her arms.
“Be quiet before you embarrass yourself.” Narcissa replied calmly, “His name is Hadrian Peverell, the Duke of Warwick, and no matter what you believe, he is bonded and blessed with a consummate marriage, so hand over your ridiculous lawsuit, and we’ll see you in court.”
Ginny’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed, as she glared at Ron, who gazed back dumbly. Her nails were digging into his arm hard enough that he winced but didn’t pull away. ” What did you do?”
“Only what you told me to do,” Ron responded, his voice dull and vacant, as if it was the first time he’d spoken in days.
Huffing angrily, Ginny wiped around. “Give them the papers, Mom. We have a train to catch.”
“Of course, dear, we’ll get this misunderstanding corrected,” Molly simpered towards her daughter and dug through her handbag, pulling out a creased, dirty bundle of papers and holding them out. Her eyes dulled and clouded enough, proving she was trying to fight whatever she was under, before she shoved them at him, huffing as they fluttered to the ground. However, she turned and stalked away without another word.
Ginny flashed them a vicious look and followed with a flip of her hair. Ron, though, visibly hesitated. His body was fighting hard enough to shake, and he met Harry’s eyes with a sheen of tears. He mouthed, “Sorry,” before turning and following, his shoulders relaxing as he moved away.
The seven of them watched them go. Harry let go of Hermione’s hand as she gasped a little and he wrapped her in a one-armed hug; the confirmation that Ron and Molly were under Ginny’s influence was evident, but they had no clue what it was.
They claimed a cabin far from the Weasley siblings, enlarging the seats so everyone was comfortable. They needed to because, by the time the train started moving, it had been the four of them, with Theo, Blaise, and Daphne following them onto the train. Luna showed up shortly after, dipping a wobbly but sincere curtsy. Neville appeared after that, standing straight and tall, lordship ring on his hand. Dean and Thomas popped in to say hi before leaving quickly. They were clearly uncomfortable, but they were replaced with the Patil twins, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot. A few other students stopped to tender greetings, unknown to Harry personally. Still, he accepted the introduction, exhausted and thankful when Hermione finally waved her wand to shut the door, casting a locking and silencing charm on it.
“Professor McGonagall assured me she would take care of the imposition of the student body for improper conduct – thankfully, it’s in the charter and enforceable through the wards,” Harry told her as she lay her head against the back of the cushion.
“Why haven’t they ever done it before?” Hermione asked curiously.
Pansy snorted and patted her hand. “Because the majority of the titled are in Slytherin, we’re trained for this, but most of us only have minor titles.” She paused in thought. “I think the highest was a countess, but she graduated three years ago. But with Hadrian’s title and the history attached to it, plus your adoption, you’ve become the new shiny Knut, and ‘everyone’ will want to be your friend.”
Susan leaned forward, handing an open book to Neville, who took it with a thoughtful crease on his brow. “Actually, I looked it up, and this is the first year the school has had this many titled students in it since 1643. we have a duke and his consort, an Earl, and two Baronesses, plus, the Heirs, a lot of the others who don’t have titles but are allowed the honorific are using them freely.”
“Yeah, my grandmother said it grew out of favour before she went to school, but no one ever made enough fuss over it. When she assumed her seat on the board of governors, they let it fall into disuse.” Neville said, looking up as he felt every eye on him, trying not to hunch at the attention.
Harry met his eyes and lifted a brow. Neville nodded slightly as if expecting the question, “May I ask how your parents are doing?”
The teen sighed, “Better, they were allowed to come home for a short visit, but Gran and I found a private facilitate to help them acclimatize to the changes; my dad was proud and thankful I took the title; he said it lifted a weight he hadn’t even realized was there.”
Nodding in understanding, Harry swallowed, “Are they up for visitors?”
Surprised, Neville’s mouth dropped open, and he stammered out an affirmative before blurting, “Why, though?”
Smiling sadly, Harry explained, “Because your mom was named my godmother, and I’d like to meet her. If things had been different, I would have grown up with you if Sirius hadn’t been available.”
“Really?” Neville asked in surprise, “I never knew that, wow. Yeah, I can ask my gran tonight, she’ll be at the feast with the board.”
“Why?” Draco asked in confusion, proving his book hadn’t captured his attention like normal, “I’ve never heard of the board of governors being at an opening feast.”
Neville shrugged, “I have no idea. I just know a formal invitation was included in the mail three days ago.”
A slow grin grew on Harry’s face, and he barked a laugh and shook his head in amazement, “damn, she’s pissed.”
“What, who?” Blaise asked in confusion, which was echoed by the rest, including Draco, who glanced at Harry with a raised brow.
Harry just shook his head, “You’ll see, I’m not ruining the surprise.”
Draco pouted at him, making Harry chuckle and press a kiss to his forehead, and addressed the cabin, “We should really kick it up and sit together.”
“We’re not allowed to,” Theo said slowly as if that should be common knowledge.
Smirking, Harry turned to look at him, “Who said?”
Theo opened his mouth and then closed it in confusion.
Harry shrugged and glanced around, amusem*nt on his face, “Five Gallons, there will be a table for us when we arrive.”
Surprise crossed the faces of those gathered, yet they accepted, with various comments about easy money, and Harry let them, knowing he was going to be buying Draco a fairly nice present in the next few days.
In addition to the head table, there was a fifth table in the middle separating the house tables, and Harry offered a cheeky smile at the multiple glares he got when he strolled towards the table, counting the extra chairs at the head table.
Watching Albus walk in and stumble in shock at the changes was worth every bit of aggravation the man had provided during the summer, his furious scowl alarming a number of second-year students who scurried around him and headed to their respective tables, casting questioning glances around.
Harry turned to look at Susan and Pansy, “Do you know any other students that would be comfortable eating with us? I think it would be better to show a united front amongst the Heirs now at the beginning of the year and teach the rest the ins and outs of our respective positions.”
Pansy snorted and glanced at the length of the table, raising a brow, “And where will they sit, Your Grace?”
Laughing at the snark, Harry waved her off, “There will be room if you find anyone willing to sit with us, I promise.”
Susan rolled her eyes and grabbed Pansy, who grabbed Hermione’s hand, and the three of them left without a word, a small trickle of students detaching or rising from their house tables and approaching the middle one with curious expressions.
True to his word, by the time the girls returned, the table had grown to accommodate the additional students, and Harry was ignoring Draco’s amusem*nt and keeping his surprise to himself. Feeling out of his depth that there were apparently a lot of Heirs in Hogwarts, and he didn’t recognize even half of them, though they seemed not to care, sitting down with a Duke was all they cared about initially.
It took an abnormally long time for the chatter to die down as they waited for the first years to arrive, so when the doors opened, there was a swell of excitement that gave way to confusion when seven adults strolled into the room dressed to the nines, stalling the chatter.
Harry hid a grin against Draco’s neck when he caught sight of Sirius and Narcissa, who were gapping at them in confusion before smoothing his expression into calm indifference as Dumbledore stood, the frantic energy he put off showing he had no clue what was going on.
“My Lords and Ladies, Welcome to Hogwarts.”
A tall woman with an overly dressed hat ignored him and strolled between the aisle, patting Neville on the shoulder proudly, “you promised.”
Flushing, Neville rose to his feet and winced in apology as he met Harry’s gaze. “Gran, this is Hadrian Peverell, The Duke of Warwick and his Consort, Lord Draconis Malfoy. Your Grace, this is my grandmother, The Dowager Countess, Lady Granville, Augusta Longbottom.”
Harry rose to his feet and offered the woman a bow and kissed the back of her hand, “My lady, it’s nice to meet you.”
The older woman’s nose twitched, and she offered a cheeky little grin, “Likewise, Your Grace, I apologize for our absence from your party, but Neville and I had other priorities we couldn’t postpone, but when time permits, I would love to have tea, Your Grace, my daughter in law, Alice would like to meet you.”
“No apologies are necessary, Dowager Countess, my consort and I would love to attend tea. I’ll check our schedule and owl you, if that is acceptable?” Harry replied formally, releasing her hand.
“Perfectly, Your Grace, enjoy your dinner.” She buzzed Neville’s cheek and continued to lead the group down the row, stopping in front of Albus, who was silently fuming, the quiet argument they were engaged in drawing every eye in the room.
Albus huffed after a few minutes, before waving them to chairs, and rose to his feet, “It appears that due to a miscommunication, the Board of Governors will be joining us for the opening feast. Now lets move on to the sorting, I assume everyone is starting to get hungry.”
Banging erupted across the hall as the student body banged the tables in agreement, the doors swinging open revealing Professor McGonagall standing there, a neat line of first year students looking around in wide-eyed wonder.
It was jarring how little they looked, small and innocent, and he couldn’t help but scan them as they walked by to make sure none had obvious signs of abuse like he still bore.
A tingling on his neck made him glance around the great hall, searching for eyes that were looking at him, and for the first time since he could remember since stepping into the wizarding world, no one was paying attention to him, all heads turned towards the front watching the sorting.
As the ceremony continued, the sensation got stronger, yet it was only as he turned to look at the doors – now closed, that he felt the flash of amusem*nt resound in his chest, his heart kicking up in anticipation.
Draco slipped his hand into his and leaned against him, offering silent support as he kept his head facing forward, for which Harry was grateful. He wasn’t sure he could answer any of the questions Draco would have and didn’t want to draw attention to himself, which was bound to happen if he started a whispered conversation with his soulmate.
Finally though, the new students were sorted, a few of the nobles sitting with them waving to younger siblings as they moved to their house tables.
Hermione’s head dipped towards Pansy’s who was barely moving her lips, but the surprise that flashed across his sisters face drew his attention, and he raised an eyebrow at her and she shook her head, as the transfiguration teacher removed the stool from the center of the room, moving around to her seat, the sorting hat tucked under her arm.
As she sat, Dumbledore looked around the room, a gentile smile on his face as he rose to his feet. He got halfway when the room dimmed, the bewitched sky darkening rapidly as it was replaced with a starfield night sky. Even the candles along the walls dimmed, creating a murmur of conversation as Dumbledore faltered, confusion spreading across his face as the doors swung open slowly, nothing on the other side, increasing the rumble of voices.
Harry, though, ignored it all, eyes focused on the door and the flickering disorientation he could see gliding down the aisles.
Before it even reached halfway, it had started to solidify, shape taking place to be visible for all, and Harry automatically rose to his feet as it paced towards him, the hairs rising on the back of his neck at the aura emitting from them and knew instantly who it was, his mouth dropping open in surprise as it stopped in front of him.
The raw foreign beauty that resounded from the figure was more of a bleed-off of magic than physical attributes. Her hair was wrapped around her head, the length hidden, but the thickness indicating it would hang past her knees; she wore a traditional Greek dress, but the clasps and fur cloak were clearly Celtic, with a sword strapped to her back, that made Harry blink in surprise at the handle, knowing the sword.
She regarded him with a shrewd expression filled with amusem*nt, and she titled her head consideringly, lips curling into a smile, as a large tome, the likes that would give Hermione a heart attack, appeared in her hands, “Hadrian Peverell, it is time to stop hiding in the shadows, and assume your place-“
A burst of light shot out of the corner of Harry’s eyes, and he turned, raising a hand, wordlessly deflecting the blast into the ceiling, summoning the wand from Albus’s suddenly lax hand, “how dare you?”
Harry demanded as he turned, putting his body between her and the expressionless man who gapped at him.
A second later, a crack filled the room, flame appearing in his vision, but he kept his gaze on Albus, who had sunk to his chair, silent and eyes wide with fear, as Harry felt the indiscernible weight of his clock settle on his shoulders, and then feet touching his shoulder, the minute shifting of weight distribution, sending a burst of cinnamon and flame to fill his nose, the happy thrill hitting his ears and he whipped his head around to gaze a Fawkes in awe as flames rippled around the Phoenix’s body none touching Harry.
A kind hand settled on his shoulder, and he jerked to stare in wonder at the woman in front of him, her voice holding an echoing quality that filled the room, “thank-you, but that wasn’t necessary, my child, Albus has no hope of removing me from my home.”
Harry dipped his head, face flaming as Fawkes trilled, chest vibrating with laughter, “it was instinctive, my lady.”
A kind smile crossed her face, “I know, your forefather had the same impulsive need too, it served him well during his rein as founder, you have a lot of the same qualities he carried as well. A sense of honour, and humility that more witches and wizards should take care to immulate.”
Harry shifted, not sure how to respond. He hadn’t expected this to happen when he arrived at school, and he felt the questions bubble on his tongue that he fought to hold back, refusing to question the woman in front of him.
A tinkling laugh echoed around the room, and she inclined her head, “It’s because you claimed the rest of your titles, child, it was safer for you, if it wasn’t made aware of how strong I became when an Heir arrived, but I’ve known since third year that it was only a matter of time, just as you, no?”
Harry licked his lips and nodded, dropping his head; he had known, yeah, just not so publicly.
A finger below his chin drew his gaze back up, and she offered a kind smile, “the changes you want to implement are yours to do, the real charter in your hands, your voice the one who matters. Make him proud, and return my gift back to its former glory.”
Nodding tightly, overwhelmed and faint, Harry squeezed Draco’s hand and felt his soulmate tense when she turned to look at him, “You look like Armand, young lord, the same physical beauty and taste in magic,” she paused and titled her head, another tinkling laugh emerging from her, “my name is Sulis, child, during the Roman occupancy, I feared for my life, our magic different and not compatible which made them scared. I willingly petitioned the Lady and merged with the school, becoming Guardian for the next generation.”
She held a up hand, amusem*nt rippling across her face, “all in good time my children, thanks to Hadrian’s presence I won’t be forced into slumber again, his influence is already spreading and bringing changes none could predict, we will have time to sit and talk later.“
It was amusing to watch the table nod as one, as Sulis straightened and held out her hand to Harry, who took it automatically and pulled him down the aisle towards the head table, glaring at Dumbledore with disgust and hatred, “You should have left when given the chance years ago, Albus Dumbledore, but in your greed, you believed yourself more knowledgeable, and smarter than others, but that ends now. You will no longer influence or steer the Lady’s children anymore,” she gestured to Harry and smiled, a coldness to it that sent a shiver down his spine, “it is up to the Hadrian, if you stay in your seat-“
“No.” Harry spoke, flushing as he cut her off, and hunched his shoulders as all eyes at the head table turned to him in shock, but he straightened his back, “No, as the magical head of Slytherin, I hereby invoke a ritual shunning, you have until midnight to leave the grounds or face the consequences of your past actions, of which our Lady will meet out punishment as is her right.”
Harry blinked trying not to show his surprise at the words that had come out his mouth, Fawkes offering a thrill of comfort as the Phoenix nuzzled his head. “Professor McGonagall, will you take up the mantel as interim Headmistress as we review the charter, with the full knowledge and understanding the seat will be offered to you at the end, if you can agree with the changes implemented?”
The deputy headmistress’s mouth opened in shock, and she jerked when Professor Flitwick nudged her arm, the stammered murmur that emerged showing how rattled the normal clam and reserved woman was, “highly irregular, but yes, of course, it would be an honour, Har-Your Grace.”
“This is preposterous!” It burst out of Albus as he surged to his feet and then faltered at the look he received.
Sulis leaned forward challengingly, voice silky soft, “Is that so?” Her eyes glinting as she waited for a response, “I could publicly recount the number of questionable incidences you allowed to happen, starting with the retirement of Head Master Dippet and Hargid’s expulsion, if you wish?” When no response came, she lifted an eyebrow, “Or how about a prophecy you’ve obsessed over since your last day as a student when Mudiwa Onai refused to help you decipher it? You fell into a spiral of your own making when you believed it might be about you. In doing that, Albus Dumbledore, you let your own hubris be your downfall; midnight is not needed; the house elves have packed everything you legally owned and sent it on to your residence on file; now leave my school.”
It was said calmly, but the command laced in words was evident as Albus moved stiffly, trying to fight for the control he no longer had as he walked around the table and headed toward the main doors, bypassing the silent house tables filled with students who seemed frozen in reaction.
As Headmaster Dumbledore passed the archway, two full-bodied suits of armour flanked him and gestured towards the main doors of Hogwarts, closing behind him with a resounding echo that reverberated throughout the school.
Sulis turned to look at Harry again and smiled gently, “The school is rightfully yours; what is your first act as guardian?”
“School unity.” Harry stated, glancing around at the sea of students, offering a flushed smile, “Houses rivalries are fine as long as they’re kept to appreciate places, like school competitions, houses parties or quidditch, but placing children in houses and saying ‘these are your attributes for life’ is a disservice to the next generation. We’re more than our schoolhouses, but being told year after year that we’re too cunning, brave, bookish, or bland stifles and stagnates our education and belief in ourselves – a key element in our magical core and abilities.”
A beaming smile crossed Sulis’s face as she regarded him, “and how would you propose to change that perception? Resorting of everyone?”
Harry thought it over and shook his head, “I have no idea how to do it fairly, at least not and have judgment be cast on an individual who wanted the change.” He paused, licking his lips, speaking hesitantly, “Maybe, next year, either through a resorting or anonymous draw, students can shuffle around to experience what makes the other houses great, but for now, we can create a neutral space, a common room for everyone.”
Sulis nodded in approval, “So mote it be.” She waved a hand towards the tables, the feast filling them and tilted her head towards him, “go eat, enjoy your night, everything else can wait until tomorrow.” She turned her head towards the head table with a raised eyebrow, “correct, Headmistress?”
“Of course, My Lady.” The professor’s tone was clearly scandalized that she would even think to question such a statement, but she did venture a small hesitant nod towards the book in Sulis’s hand, “Would it be possible to review the charter you have, with His Grace’s permission?”
Harry held up his hands, “Feel free, Headmistress, I honestly just wanted to be a normal student for once, but like every year, things just happen to me.”
A cross between a smile and grimace twisted her face, but she nodded once sighing sadly, “it does, but hopefully that has changed, do as the Lady says, Your Grace and eat your dinner, we can sit down tomorrow and work through things we all think need to change.”
“Of course, Headmistress.” Harry bowed formally to her and then again to Sulis, who followed him down the aisle, escorting him to his seat, and then continued without a word, strolling through the doors, the air shimmering in a rainbow of colours as her magic flew along the walls. As Harry sat, he watched her for a long moment until the doors slid shut behind her, and he knew without being told that she was repairing the damage inflicted upon the school and heaved a sigh of relief as the oppressive feeling lifted from his shoulders, and saw more then one student do the same.
****
“Beginning with wizarding studies and an updated muggles course is an excellent start, but we should look at religions – plural because there are so many different societies that have different belief structures and working of magic,” Hermione said, curled up on the sofa in his and Harry’s suite, making Draco groan and roll his eyes, burying his head in his husband’s chest.
“What about languages?” Pansy asked and glanced at a few of the others who had joined them after the feast. I don’t know about the rest, but Draco and I grew up with tutors learning French, German, and Latin.”
Hannah and Susan nodded slowly, agreeing, “Actually, make it mandatory that there are three years of Latin, with the option to choose another as an elective.” They exchanged a shrug when the others looked at them, Hannah explaining, “I don’t know about the rest, but my experience with watching our peers, even for those who grew up in the wizarding world, there is a serious lack of comprehension with Latin period, which translates back to shoddy spell work.”
Harry snorted a laugh and glanced at Hermione, “Wingardium Leviosa?”
Harry’s sister groaned, “Oh, Merlin, don’t remind me. Thank Goddess, it was only a beginner-level spell, but you’re right. Ron grew up in the wizarding world, and technically, he is a pureblood, but there is a distinct lack of pre-education.”
“Well, that’s the difference between homeschooled and tutored. It’s not necessarily a fault of a lack of primary education but a lack of individual focus. Keep in mind Ron would have grown up with four other siblings with only their mother to teach them.” Neville offered from where he lounged on another couch. Blaise stretched out beside them as they pursued a book from Harry’s private collection.
“What about you, Neville?” Harry asked curiously, knowing that his friend’s youth was slightly more contentious. Given his family’s beliefs, they thought him a squib until he received his Hogwarts letter.
“Oh, I grew up with a regime of tutors, too,” he admitted without hesitation, “my family might have had doubts about my magical capacities, but they needed to ensure that I could still function even if it ended up being in the muggle world.”
“Huh,” Harry looked at his friend in confusion, making Neville smile.
“After the third year, Gran and I sat down and actually talked it out. A lot of things came to light that neither of us expected, but I have a great uncle who’s been banished from the family for his treatment of me as a child.” He shrugged like it didn’t bother him. ” Apparently, he had spent a life-long campaign of whispering in Gran’s ear that I wasn’t going to amount to much being a squib.”
“Gees, Neville, that’s horrible,” Hermione whispered sadly.
Neville grinned and shook his head, “Don’t feel too bad, Hermione. I got the last laugh when I banished him upon my lordship.”
Pansy let out a delighted laugh, “the best kind of f*ck you. I did the same with several relatives. It was cathartic, especially when the sad begging letters came in. I returned them unopened; they couldn’t be bothered to help me when needed, and I refused to allow them to syphon off me.”
“It makes me wonder if any of us have had a normal childhood,” Harry muttered, running a hand over his face. Offering a weak smile when Draco nuzzled closer, Harry said, “Okay, besides those things, is there anything else that needs to be looked at immediately?”
They exchanged looks, with Hermione licking her lips. ” Do you know if it’s possible to get some sort of curriculum syllabus for past years?” She gestured to Hannah and Susan, then Pansy. “I know, talking to some of the others, that there were courses removed, either as a restructuring of the core classes or as electives. It would be interesting to see what was on offer.”
“Write it down. I can ask the headmistress in the morning,” Harry said, leaning forward and grabbing a biscuit off the plate that a house elf had dropped off.
Draco grunted at the movement but sat up. ” A comprehensive overview of the History of Magic, preferably with a non-racist and breathing professor.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s good.” Hermione agreed, “I didn’t even realize the things I didn’t know until I had access to the Black library.”
Harry bit his lip. “I think an audit on the Care of Magical Creatures should be on the list.”
Startled, Hermione’s head snapped up, her mouth opening before she sighed and nodded in understanding, “Maybe Hagrid can get a pardon now that it’s known he wasn’t responsible?”
“Maybe, but I don’t think it’ll be possible to receive a full magical education,” Harry stated, “his magical core is broken and non-repairable.”
The room remained still at his words, and Draco felt Harry tense. So he slid his hand down and grabbed Harry’s, squeezing it gently. ” Is this the aura thing?”
“Yeah, Hagrid has spent over fifty years using a broken wand,” Harry admitted roughly, “I can see the holes in his core like a lumos spell was being cast from the inside.”
“You can see magical auras?” Daphne asked with a hint of awe. Do you know how rare that gift is?”
Snorting, Harry nodded and shared a look with Luna, who nodded with a smile. ” It’s a family gift, passed down from Nimue.”
He grinned at their stunned expressions and let out a little laugh: “Let me guess, you thought it was Gryffindor’s Heir, didn’t you?”
Dumbly, the three Slytherins who hadn’t been at the manor over the summer nodded, which Susan echoed a second later.
“While it is true that the Potters were blood adopted by Nimue and married into the Gryffindor line, my ancestor marrying the youngest granddaughter of a fourth generational line, there are still four paternal lines that carried on families.”
“Do you know who the heir is?” Susan asked quietly.
Harry shook his head, though his eyes flicked to Neville’s briefly, thankful he wasn’t looking back. “I have suspicions but not direct access to the full Gryffindor line; what I have only shows the extent before the Potter marriage.”
“Oh.” Susan’s shoulders dropped in disappointment, “I wouldn’t even know where to get a complete line.”
“I don’t think anyone does.” Harry admitted softly, “Mine’s unique, given my blood adoption to Sirius Black. His ancestors created the tree, embedding the family blood in it.” He offered a small smile, “I suspect it’s the most comprehensive and complete tree, considering it still shows squibs.”
“Really?” Susan asked, perking up with interest. “If possible, I would love to see it.” She flushed as every eye turned towards her. “It’s a hobby of mine. I’ve spent years crafting my own. It’s actually part of my thesis work for my charms at the ICW level.”
“That’s amazing, Susan.” Hermione gushed, “I’m looking at transfigurations and ancient ruins myself.”
“Bloody hell,” Harry muttered, dropping his head back onto the couch. “Next, the rest of you will tell me you already have a ten-point career and life plan, too, right?”
“Not me,” Blaise said happily, munching on a biscuit, saluting Pansy when she echoed him.
Theo laughed, “Does reviving the long-standing tradition of the European tour count? Cause that’s mine.”
Everyone laughed, settling back against their seats. “I think creating study groups for the younger grades would be a good idea, especially if we could mix houses.” Hermione finally said after frowning at the list on the table, “Also, advancing the wizarding world into the 20th century might be beneficial.” She shot a glance at Harry, “Writing with quills and scrolls of parchment is annoying.”
Harry grinned at the pureblood’s blank look, “I’ll see what I can do, ‘Mione, but I do not promise anything. I can just picture the headmistress’s face now and the abject horror that would be on it if she was handed a scribbler, or worse case, a typed paper.”
Hermione burst into peels of laughter, “That’s fair, alright, but maybe so I could take notes in class? I can handle the rest for projects and essays, but note-taking would be much easier in one book.”
Daphne cleared her throat delicately, “May I ask something, Harry?”
“Sure,” Harry answered, glancing over at the young woman, who shifted nervously in her seat.
“You said you can see auras, and I’m wondering if you know what mine is.”
Harry stared at her and nodded, “Light, but I don’t know if you want me to add to the rest of the conversation with everyone in the room.”
She waved the concern away, “Everyone in Slytherin already knows anyway, and I’m sure the others have heard whispers of my family over the years.”
“The curse is actually grey.” Harry admitted, “While it’s in your line, I don’t see it advancing beyond passing it along to your children.”
Daphne dropped her gaze, “Oh, and my sister, Astoria?”
Harry glanced away, looking at his soulmate thoughtfully, and asked instead of answering – which was probably answer enough given her little inhale, “Do you know what the curse was, to begin with?”
“Morgan Le Fey is said to have cast the curse in retaliation for a rejection. The family lore says it was because the party responsible said she was frail and sickly-looking.” Daphne admitted softly and shrugged, “It made the curse more pointed. Even though most blood malediction appears in different ways or forms, it seems everyone in our bloodline is cursed to be frail and sickly.”
“I assume your family has attempted ritual petitions?” Harry inquired with a frown.
“Of course, but if the soul of Morgan Le Fey exists, she ignores any summoning,” Daphne stated.
Harry swallowed, “we can’t do anything at school, but I might have a way to attempt another.”
“Oh no, that wasn’t what I was asking for, Harry. I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way for a wasted endeavour.” The young witch protested, sitting up, alarm spreading across her face.
“Not necessarily wasted, but I think the key component is the lack of blood connection to Morgan Le Fey,” Harry said seriously – seriously enough that everyone stopped. He shrugged, “I’ll speak with them and see what they say.”
“But no one knows-“
“He means me, Daphne.” Draco replied softly and snorted, “Harry’s not the only one who had an emotional upheaval learning their heritage this summer.” He shrugged self-consciously, “I can’t promise it’ll work, given I’m from what would be considered a bastard line, but if I can convince her I forgive your family, it might work.”
Harry frowned and looked at Draco. “I don’t think you need to worry about that distinction, love. You have more right to claim her blood than Slytherin’s because it was his stipulation that those pure of blood—meaning married and blessed by magic—can only access the family magic.”
Draco glanced at his husband and blinked, “Are you telling me wizards have spent decades parroting baseless rhetoric?”
Harry bit his lip, “did I forget to mention that?”
“Did you-“ Draco repeated and then stopped glaring at his husband, “anything else you’ve forgotten to mention?”
“Um…. No?” Harry replied eyebrows furrowed as if thinking furiously. He flushed, flashing him a sheepish grin. “Have I said I love you today?”
“And that’s our queue to leave.” Pansy popped up, rolling her eyes. “You’d think the honeymoon phase would have ended by now.”
Hermione laughed in agreement as she gathered her stuff: “It’s going to be really strange that they’re not hexing each other in the halls or causing potion mishaps this year.”
“Oh, no.” Pansy pouted, leading the way to the portrait. “I didn’t even think of that. It’s going to be so boring this year.”
Stunned by their friend’s sudden disappearance, Draco could only stare at his husband, who was grinning at him. “What?”
“They’re kind of right. It is going to be strange not hexing each other,” Harry admitted in amusem*nt.
Lifting an elegant eyebrow, Draco drawled, “Do you want to hex me?”
Smirking, Harry shook his head, pushed him back to recline on the couch, and crawled over him. “No love, no hexing, but I do want to do other things.”
Draco glanced down as Harry unbuttoned his shirt, “You don’t say, and if I said I was too tired?”
Harry’s hands stilled, and he shifted to sit upright, “then we’d go to bed, and I’d cuddle you.”
Shaking his head in exasperation, Draco grabbed Harry’s hands, put them back on his shirt, and ordered, “Finish what you started, husband.”
With a heated look, Harry did as he was told.
***
“After talking with the board of governors, we need to delay classes for the week.”
Harry blinked in confusion at the opening as he sat down at the table in a private room. He suspected Sulis had created it for this purpose because he knew it hadn’t existed before, according to the map.
“I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but I disagree headmistress,” Harry replied with a frown.
“Minerva, Your Grace, at least while we’re in private, explain why.”
“Then continue to call me Harry, Minerva.” Harry offered with a smile. “As for the classes, there is going to be enough of an upheaval with the upcoming trials.” He frowned, thinking hard. “Those are supposed to start on the sixteenth. That would only provide students with one full week, and we both know that the first three days are the course outline for the year.”
Minerva sighed heavily, “I know, but….” She trailed off and waved a hand to the thick book she’d been given last night. “It was completely different from the one we had. Sure, there are some archaic or ridiculous things in this copy, but with the right spells and proposals, we can rewrite, change, or abolish them.”
Harry dipped his head, “I’m pretty sure Sulis will be fairly lenient and approving of change.”
“That’s true.” Minerva agreed with a sigh. ” When I visited the headmaster’s office this morning, there was a new pedestal with instructions on how to communicate with her or give verbal instructions to someone.”
Understanding that Harry picked up the mug of coffee the house elves had provided, “That makes sense; she used a lot of power to physically manifest last night, including all the changes to did overnight; I imagine she needs to recharge, baring an emergency.”
“She also said she didn’t want it to become a crutch for the staff to rely on, and I have to agree,” Minerva said, stirring her tea, wrinkling her nose at Harry’s coffee like its presence offended her. “What did you and your merry band of misfits decide last night?”
Laughing, Harry handed over the list Hermione had compiled last night. “It’s honestly not terrible, at least not for this year.”
Minerva reviewed the shortlist, lifted an eyebrow in surprise, and responded dryly, “I’m not sure whether to offer school points for the comprehensive list or take points away for being so short.”
Harry laughed, “Mione would be scandalized if points were taken away.”
A small chuckle escaped the headmistress as she settled back in her chair, “The list of prior courses and electives is easily available because they’re right. When I was a student, there was more on offer, and Hogwarts was counted as one of the leading institutions worldwide; we are now at the bottom, with below-average results comparatively. It’s become expected that if a witch or wizard wishes to take a job outside of the United Kingdom, they have to take NEWTs at an ICW level. I know from independent research that out of the last two hundred students to graduate, only five have taken the route.”
Disgusted at the knowledge, Harry turned his head to glare at the wall, “Can we add magical careers to the list?”
“In what way?” Minerva asked, even as she picked up a quill.
“I don’t know, like a career day or something. Maybe it’s a muggle thing, but I know from listening to my cousin that his school would have a day twice a year where different companies would come to their school and offer information on available careers.” Harry shrugged at his lacklustre explanation, wanting Hermione to be there so she could be his words. “For example, being raised a muggle, I don’t know of things available that are unrelated to the ministry. The only reason I know of curse breaking or dragon keeping is because of the Weasleys, but if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t even know that sort of thing existed.”
A look of surprise crossed Minerva’s face, even as her jaw tightened in anger, “I don’t know how to even go about something like that, but rest assured it will be done.” She cleared her throat and tapped the scroll, “I will also tell you that the Board and I agree on the three courses written down. History of Magic was one of our first concerns, and then Wizarding studies or the lack of was the next.” She frowned bitterly, “I never realized how much Albus was impeding the board of governors and the education of our youth, which seriously vexes me.”
Harry refrained from commenting because he knew that if she knew the truth about Albus Dumbledore, she’d probably hunt him down as sport. Perhaps that was why her anginas form was a cat, the world’s most dangerous predator.
The headmistress regarded him when he remained silent but chose not to address the matter and shifted the papers around. “Is there anything else you can think of today?”
“No,” Harry admitted, “but I think we should meet with the Board by the end of the week. Once Hermione’s gotten access to the previous syllabus, we will have a lot of work to accomplish if we wish to make an impact this year.”
“Very well, I had one concern I’m unsure how to address,” Minerva said, folding her hands on the table.
“Speak freely, I won’t take offence.” Harry offered and then shrugged, “or at least I promise to try and not take offence unless it’s directed at my soulmate.”
“I would never.” The outraged, scandalous tone was accompanied by a hand pressed to her chest. “Soulmate magic is rare and beautiful. No one should question the Lady’s gift in any way, and if they did, I hope you told them all about themselves.”
Laughing, Harry relaxed in his chair and lifted an eyebrow. “I did, and he’s no longer here.” He shrugged at her wide-eyed look. “I make no apologies for it either. It’s not the least of which Albus Dumbledore has done to interfere in my life.”
“No, I suppose it’s not.” Minerva replied sadly, “I wanted you to know I vehemently opposed Albus when he gave you to your aunt. Yet nothing I said or did dissuade him, and I had no hope of combatting him at the time, given his status in the Wizengamot.”
“I hold no ill will towards you, Minerva. It’s enough to know that someone cared; now, what was your concern?”
“Your connection to the wards.” She replied bluntly, “I won’t ask you to separate from it, not that I think you could, but I want your promise you won’t use it to circumvent the school rules.”
“Unless it’s a matter of life or death or a potential emergency in my home, then I wouldn’t.” Harry replied and admitted, “I can’t say I haven’t used them to hide from detection during the fifth year, but that was more of a f*ck you to Umbridge, so I could sneak into the Chamber of Secrets.”
“You’ve been back down into the chamber?”
Harry shrugged, nodding, “I was curious, and it was a good way to gain control of my anger. Plus, Salazar became not only a better source of information than the libraries, he was also a better teacher.”
“I’m sure he is.” She offered him a smile, “Maybe when we have time to go down, I can join you.”
Harry tilted his head, “Sirius tattle on me?”
“He might have grumbled about having too much to do and the horrors of being a responsible adult.” The headmistress admitted with a smile, “Now go, enjoy your free day with your friends. I’ll announce at lunch that class will start as normal.”
“One thing to add before I do.” Harry withdrew the letter, the broken seal from Gringotts visible, and held it out. “It’s not school-related exactly, but it does require my husband and me to attend as Ms. And Mrs.Weasley are challenging my marriage, citing breach of contract. They had wanted a private negotiation with their family lawyer, but I demanded my right to a neutral party, as I am the Patron of the Horde. They agreed to host.”
Frowning, Minerva scanned the letter: “Yes, I see. I’ll mark you and your husband absent that day, as well as Ms.Weasley.”
Smiling pleasantly, Harry shook his head, “I’m going to be an ass and request that if she or her mother haven’t informed you of the pending court date, then don’t use my notice to do so.”
Giving him a shrewd look over her glasses, she just shook her head, “ass indeed, though I understand your reasoning, if she doesn’t show because she doesn’t have permission to leave, her suit is forfeit, correct?”
Grinning, Harry rose to his feet. “It already is; she just doesn’t know that. I have other reasons for going, but if you could whisper in someone’s ear that Ron has to escort her when the time comes, it would be appreciated.”
Minerva stilled, regarded him with keen eyes, and nodded once. Harry relaxed, knowing she understood the significance of his request. Gringotts was the only place in the world with a nullification field, and it was what he desperately needed. He just hoped it would be enough to break whatever hold was over his one-time best friend, even if he suspected it might have all been an act from the beginning.
Offering a bow, Harry left the room, searching through the bond for his husband’s location. Finding it in the library, he turned his feet in that direction and left with a lighter heart and a weight lifted from his shoulders.
Harry wasn’t surprised to find Sirius or Narcissa waiting when they port-keyed directly into Gringotts for the meeting.
The approving nod at their formalwear made him straighten his back with pride and flash his husband a cheeky grin when Draco rolled his eyes. His insistence that he wear the black sleeveless vest with the green trim and a charcoal button-up instead of the solid single-colour dark green sleeved one made him smug.
Pressing a kiss to Draco’s cheek, he linked their hands and fell into step behind their parents as they were led to a private meeting room.
Harry inhaled sharply as the nullification shield slid over him, and he shook his shoulders to dispel the heaviness on his shoulders as he sat in the surprisingly comfortable chairs on one side of the large table.
The Dverger, who led them, offered them a tea service and bowed formally, informing them that Ragnok and Nrocneer would be with them shortly.
Nodding politely, Harry accepted the folder of files Sirius handed over and watched as the two adults sat at the end of the table, clearly having no intention of leaving.
The two ranking Dverger arrived with little fanfare but an escort of five, who took up positions around the room. Rangok slid into the chair at the head of the table, his son sitting to his left, and both men nodded a greeting.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
“You as well, Ragnok. I trust your enemies are cowering in fear at the feats of your grandeur and your vaults overflowing with their betrayals.” Harry replied with a jaunty two-finger salute and grin at the semi-scandalized expression on his account manager’s face as his father barked a laugh.
“Just so, Your Grace.”
“It’s Hadrian, sir, as I’ve said.” Harry replied, pulling out a chair for Draco and making sure he was comfortable before he dropped down beside him.
Rangok dipped his head in acknowledgment and glanced at his son, who looked pained. ” Our cordial relationship has disturbed many within the horde, but I must admit, I enjoy our talks. It’s nice not being feared or grovelled, too, even if I’m expected to feel both.”
Harry chuckled and shrugged self conciously, “I admit to not being educated in the customs of the wizarding world, but you’ve done me no wrong or committed any acts against those I consider mine; why should I fear you?” He offered a small smile, “This relationship might have been built on the say-so of your wife’s acceptance, but I’ve learnt since my marriage that my husband has more knowledge than I do, and I respect that and listen to it, even if I don’t always heed his caution.”
“Very prettily said, Your Grace.” The shaman’s voice floated from the door, and she looked amused as the men stood.
Beannacht glided into the room, accepting her husband’s hand as she sat, smoothing her robes around her as she looked at Hadrian. “You look much better, Hadrian.”
“I feel better.” He admitted softly, “With our marriage blessed, I feel secure and relaxed in a way that transcends the full settling of the family’s magic.”
“That’s to be expected.” Beannacht assured him, “The bond the two of you share needed the acknowledgment and Lady’s blessing to convince yourself it was real.” She raised an eyebrow at him as he opened his mouth, “You can’t deny that prior to that, you had the deep-seated fear it was too good to be true, no matter what you knew in your heart.”
Bowing his head, Harry nodded, “That’s true.”
Draco slid their hands together and responded dryly, “Now, if people could stop threatening the bond, we’d be fine.”
Harry hummed in agreement, feeling the coil of emotion surge through the bond, understanding his soulmate’s point of view. Even though it had only been a little over a week, the number of people displeased was unsettling, a handful had even been vocal about it—mostly goaded on by Ron.
Thinking of Ron drew his attention back to the room. He glanced at the large clock on the wall and frowned. They were fifteen minutes late.
Glancing at Ragnok, he saw the eye twitch at the blatant disrespect offered to the Dverger’s time and winced.
The shaman patted her husband’s hand and shook her head, lifting the teacup to her lips and closing her eyes as if pleased at the taste.
Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise, Harry glanced sharply at Beannacht, who met his gaze with a steely-eyed look that plainly said not to say anything. He bit his lip as a commotion echoed down the stone hallway to reverberate around the room.
The door slammed open unbecomingly, and Molly Weasley stormed in, dirt smeared on her cheek, flushed and robed in disarray. She stumbled to a halt, eyes widening at the party in attendance, and only moved because Ginny came in behind her, muttering to Ron over her shoulder and not paying attention.
There was an embarrassing scramble for balance as Molly wrenched away from Ginny, giving her a scolding look before smoothing the front of her robes.
The shaman rose, face cool and calm, “Weasley Family?”
A flicker of fear built in Molly’s eyes as she took in the table again and swallowed hard. She only moved forward when Ginny prodded her rudely, “Mum, come on.”
“I….” Molly trialed off, head dropping as she followed Ginny, who slid onto the chair beside the shaman without a look, keeping her glittering eyes fixed on Harry.
Something in their depths set Harry on edge, only Draco’s smooth palm against his hand keeping him calm.
Beannacht remained unruffled and waited until the three sat before waving her hand at the door, “It’s good of you to join us; you cut it close to a forfeit.”
Ginny sniffed and threw her hair over her shoulder, “Well, if Harry had done his duty, he would have escorted me as is proper.”
Startled, Beannacht couldn’t help but gape at the young witch in astonishment: “Why would you expect the Duke of Warwick, the defendant in this case, to escort you, the plaintiff? That’s utterly ridiculous.”
A flash of anger crossed Ginny’s face, and she opened her mouth to respond, but Molly moved, action stiff and distorted as she grabbed Ginny’s hand and spoke, voice coming out in a cross between a croak and a whimper. “Don’t insult the shaman.”
The Dverger’s eyes turned to Molly, dismissing the girl, “Are you alright, Mrs.Weasley?”
“Of course she is. Let’s get on with this.” Ginny snapped, ruffling through her mother’s handbag, pulling out a roll of parchment, “For breach of contract, Harry is supposed to forfeit-“
“I’m afraid you seemed to be under the mistaken impression that I’m going to listen to an underage witch state a claim without merit,” Ragnok rumbled. “Where’s your lawyer?”
“We don’t need one; my cousin drew up the papers as it’s a straightforward breach,” Molly replied tonelessly, eyes unfocused. “All Harry has to do was sign them, and we could move on with our lives.”
“Oh, this is ridiculous.” Ginny snapped, glaring at Ron, and shoved the papers at him, “read it.”
Wordlessly summoning the paper, the shaman waved her hand, activating the nullification field, “I thought to draw this out, but you’ve irritated me, young lady, and that takes some work considering my age.”
Ginny’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widening in sudden understanding. She attempted to push back from the table but found herself unable to move.
Just as Ron started to sob, Molly shook in her chair, eyes snapping to search her daughter’s face, her own crumpling in abject betrayal. “What have you done?”
“What you were all too weak to accomplish!” Ginny snapped, glaring hatefully at her mother. “Harry is meant to be mine. He always was. Your stories told me that growing up, and Harry proved it when rescuing me from the chamber. But boys are dumb, and why would he look at me giving our families deplorable blood status? As if I deserved to be punished because some idiot thought fast money was the way to go.”
Harry raised his eyebrows at the statement, wondering if she understood the irony, but he kept his mouth shut with a warning squeeze from Draco.
“I told myself I needed to be patient, but then Ron almost blew everything when he reverted to form, becoming an unreasonable jealous twit when Harry’s name came out of the goblet of fire. It set my plans back because he resisted everything I did, even with the daily dosages of loyalty and behavioural potions he was taking, stupidity believing they were nutritional supplements from mom.” Ginny snarled angrily, “It took sneaking into the restricted section, but I managed to salvage the situation just after the first task. It took a combination of spells and modified potions, but I managed to redirect Ron who was pining after Granger.”
Ginny inhaled sharply, eyes widening as the words poured out, and she glared at the shaman for all she was worth frozen in the chair. Her voice turned bitter as she collapsed back into the chair no longer fighting the magic on her chair, “it was almost perfect when Riddle resurrected, I knew Harry would need a good, strong woman to stand behind him that came from a light family, he needed my influence to keep from not only straying but to ensure my future as Lady Potter. I needed insurance, it was easy to get Sirius to sign the documents disguise as Harry’s Hogsmeade permission slip.”
Even though she’d given up fighting the magic, Ginny’s eyes had widened the more she talked, growing more angry and bitter, “he avoided me for most of the fifth year, and I suspected he was meeting up with someone but could never prove it. So when the ministry break-in happened, I thought this was my chance, the only flaw in the plan was I knew Sirius wouldn’t be there, Tom’s not dumb he knew exactly what he was sending. So I sent a coded message to my mom, who alerted the order before Snape could. Still, nothing went to plan,” she glared hatefully at Draco, making Harry clench his teeth to keep from swatting her with his magic, “your father was insufferable and failed Tom, he didn’t get the prophecy and ended up arrested. Of all things, Sirius didn’t die, and Harry didn’t arrive at Grimmauld Place like you should have, meaning the potions lapsed in your system.”
By the time Ginny was done, Molly was crying, wringing her hands, and shaking her head in disbelief, unable to take her eyes off Harry. Ron was shaking and panting in his chair like he was in pain, his eyes red and glossy, and he was looking everywhere but at Harry.
Seeing how much damage a person could cause because of entitlement and greed was heartbreaking.
Sighing warily, Harry ran a hand down his face and sat forward, “A couple of things to note: Do you understand what a magical contract entitles?”
“Of course, it’s legally and magically binding. The only out clauses are built into the original, and there are none,” Ginny snapped, oozing smugness.
“If it was done honestly and correctly, I’d agree, but you errored,” Harry explained, voice devoid of emotion, knowing it would just piss her off more.
It did, even if she didn’t verbally say anything, the magical containment built into her chair told the tale all on its own when it sprang to life, encasing her in a glowing sphere.
“To start, would have been the illegal signing. It’s automatically null because it was signed under an illusion.” Harry shifted around the sheets in front of him, tapping the corner of one. “Secondly, would be in the magic of contract law, especially a betrothal or marriage contract. Given my status as the last of my line, even if I was a minor at the time, I still would have been over the age of thirteen, which means I would have had to sign as well.“
Ginny went pale, but Harry couldn’t tell if it was with shock or fury, and he smiled coldly, “The other issue with your marriage contract is within the name, which is not Harry Potter; that is my muggle name, a tradition half-blood use to have entrance into that world. The other issue is that even if you had known my legal name and used that, it still would have failed for the same reason that the one Draco’s did, when his father attempted to sign for him. We are soulmates; that magical blessing supersedes pre-arranged contracts. You had no hope of ever making me marry you.” He paused and then tapped the page again, “And even if I had been inclined to do so, I would never have given up my titles for you; the highest you could have hoped to aspire is my mistress. Your family’s status as magically public blood traitors would have made a marriage between us impossible.”
Ginny burst into noisy tears that quickly died when no one rushed to console her, and she glared at everyone in betrayal and rage.
Ragnok flicked a hand, silencing the outburst they could all see building, and turned his attention to a warrior along the wall. “Send a message to the DMLE, Arthur, and Septimus Weasley, and summon Bill. He can assist his family until the men arrive.”
Sirius, who had been silent until that point, swore and sighed heavily, Harry looking at his godfather in confusion. “What’s going on? Why the DMLE?”
Draco cleared his throat and answered for him, “You’re thinking in terms of the illegal and null contract, but technically, with the confession of potions – not just of her mother and brother but of yourself, Ms.Weasely is guilty of attempted line theft, which is an automatic sentence of magical binding.” Draco took a breath, clenching Harry’s hand when he opened his mouth, “Depending on what potions and spells she’s used since the fourth year, it could mean a sundering of her magical core.”
Harry sat there reeling, unsure how to react, his heart breaking for the Weasley family. They might not have treated him the best since his bonding with Draco, but they had been kind during the previous years.
Thankfully, for his peace of mind, there was a quick knock on the door, opening to reveal Bill Weasley. He had an alarmed expression when he took in the room’s occupants. His gaze skittered over Harry’s side before landing on his family, the understanding and realization flaring over his face before it filled with anger.
It startled Harry so severely that he jerked back before remembering that Bill was a licensed curse breaker. He could probably see the broken spell form over Ron and his mother, that Harry was now able to see, even if he didn’t understand it.
Bill’s next words confirmed his thoughts, “You unbelievably stupid, silly girl, do you even have a smidge of understanding what you’ve done?”
Hurt flared across Ginny’s face, tears filling her eyes again that felt more genuine than anything she had shown that day.
Bill’s jaw tightened, as he averted his eyes, gazing over her shoulder, refusing to look into hers, “I knew something was wrong when you came to Egypt, and when I came home two years ago, but Mom talked me around into believing I was seeing things. But you did that, didn’t you?”
Harry’s head snapped up, startling Draco, who pulled back at the intensity on his face as he focused on Bill. Sudden dread filled Harry, his voice was hoarse as he stared at Ginny in deep sorrow: “Oh, sweet Merlin, what have they done to you?”
Feeling a spark of anger from his soulmate, Harry sent a pulse back, pleading for patience, and fixed his gaze on Bill, “They didn’t tell you what happened to Ginny her first year, did they?”
Everyone at the table froze, Ginny’s glare slamming into him, the silencing charm still in effect.
“No… should they have?” Bill asked slowly, eyes darting between his relatives.
“There’s nothing wrong with her.” Molly protested, eyes wild, as she struggled to stand, only the intent charms keeping her in the seat.
“Fix her, she’s a monster.” Ron countered the first words he had spoken since he had walked into the room. He glared at his mother, “You let her become a monster. She’s controlled us both for years.”
“What happened?” Bill asked hoarsely, his hand twitching for his wand, but only training and respect for his employer stayed his hand.
“Ginny was given a diary by my husband,” Narcissa whispered sadly, eyes gazing at the girl in pity. “I was bound by oaths to say nothing, and I hoped. I prayed she’d ignore it or question how she got it and ask her parents.”
“It’s not your fault, Cissy,” Sirius said softly, reaching out to take her hand.
“No, it’s not, but it might not be Lucuis’s fault either,” Harry said evenly and held a hand up at the near revolt his words had. “The Dark Mark he wore was imbedded with compulsion and obedience charms. If he’d been given an order, he would have been unable to do anything but follow it.”
Bill closed his eyes, his hands tightening into fists. “That’s fair. I’m familiar with primitive attempts in my job, but what does that have to do with Ginny and now?”
“The diary was Tom Riddle’s, a piece of his soul. Over the course of that year, she wrote in it daily. She opened the Chamber of Secrets and woke Keme, the basilisk that resided there.”
“Oh f*ck me.” Bill would have sunk to the ground if a chair hadn’t materialized behind him, the horror on his face making Harry rub self-conscious at the scar on his arm.
“Long story short, Dumbledore influenced me to mount a rescue, and unfortunately, Keme was killed, probably the greatest sin that happened that year.” Harry finished bitterly and flushed when everyone, including his husband, looked at him with varying degrees of incredulous shock. Shrugging, he folded his arms, “Look, Keme’s entire purpose being under that school was a source of protection, but due to Dumbledore’s lacklustre and purposefully f*cking of the wards, it allowed Riddle to corrupt her, she was as innocent as Ginny was that year.”
“How can you say she’s innocent?” Draco demanded, hurt building in his silver eyes.
“That year, Dragon.” Harry corrected softly, “She was innocent that year, but if I know anything about the way things were done and my own experience that year and the years that followed, Madame Pomphrey isn’t qualified to diagnose, never mind heal, injuries stemming from dark magic.”
“You were bite by a basklisk?” Bill whispered hoarsely, choking on the air. “How the f*ck are you still alive?”
Harry shrugged, “at the time? Fawkes, cried into the wound, healing it.” He met Bill’s eyes, “But no one addressed it beyond putting bandages on it.”
Harry dropped his eyes and fiddled with his hands before speaking, “I’m going to ask that, as the victim of this situation, charges not be filed with the DMLE.”
Draco stiffened, attempting to pull away, but Harry kept hold of his hand, lifting his chin, “Ginny is clearly damaged, magically and psychologically, by her experience with Tom Riddle, something she should have seen a mind-healer for immediately after it happened.” He glanced around the table, noting the looks of understanding dawn on their faces, though Draco’s jaw flexed, “instead of getting her the help she desperately needed, it was ignored and allowed to fester. It wouldn’t even surprise me if I saw a healer’s report saying she’s started to believe the same rhetoric his followers did.”
He lifted an eyebrow when Draco exhaled noisily, “You’re talking about her attitude toward Hermione?”
“Yeah.” Harry agreed, “There’s a cruelty in her actions and words that can’t be accounted for if it was residual leftover exposure.”
Bill groaned and dropped his head in his hands, body slumping as Beannacht moved to set a hand on his shoulder, “This isn’t your fault, young one.”
“It feels like it should be.” Bill whispered hoarsely and lifted his head, “I’m supposed to be the expert, Shaman. I should have fought harder to get her looked at.” He waved a hand around the room. He laughed bitterly, “Now, the DLME have been called, our uncle and father are on the way, and my brother is sitting there in obvious withdrawal, my mother’s still in denial, and my sister….” he trailed off, unable to look at her, “I don’t know what she is, nor do I know what she attempted to do. Could someone please tell me before anyone else gets here?”
“The main charge against your sister is attempted line theft, based on her admittance to trying to potion me. Depending on the type of potion, my early inheritance of my family magics would have been made null within my system.” Harry licked his lips. “In the end, her crimes against me pale in comparison to the crimes against your brother and mother, given my understanding of the curse she used.”
Bill winced as he licked his lips, “How…? It’s dark as f*ck, and if it was more popular here, it would probably be counted as unforgivable. If you’re caught casting it on anyone in Eygpt, it’s an automatic death sentence.”
“Which proves my point,” Harry said, not answering Bill’s question, “In the end, for all of Ginny’s plans, she had no hope of succeeding. Draco is my soulmate, and our union was blessed by Magic during Prifma Libratum.”
Bill’s head snapped up again, eyes red-rimmed, but stare unblinking, “How old were you when your family magic settled?”
“Third year,” Harry replied slowly, not breaking eye contact.
“What would have happened if Ginny had resorted to poisons, Harry?”
The question made Harry blink in confusion and answer in bewilderment, “Depending on the poison, it might make me severely sick, but it wouldn’t kill; it’s a natural immunity enhanced by the basilisk bite.”
“And you’re a parselmouth, right?”
“Why are you asking….” Harry grinned suddenly, “You found her tomb in Egypt, didn’t you?”
Bill glowered at him weakly and stopped beating around the bush. “You claimed Slytherin, right?”
“I did,” Harry admitted, “thirteenth generational child, born mid-point of a turning decade. It’s also why I qualified for the Duke of Warwick title, as Slytherin didn’t have one.”
“Really?” Sirius asked, surprised.
“It’s really not the time, but yeah, the only founder who did was Godric, who was Baron. Hegla and Rowena married titled men, so their titles wouldn’t have counted in an inheritance. They used his status as his title, which was Archmagus.” He smiled at their stunned expressions, “Though considering who his father was, it’s not exactly a surprise, right?”
Unfortunately, those gathered never learned who Salazar’s father was because a knock sounded at the door. It opened to reveal Amelia Bones and the two elder Weasley, and the conversation was forgotten.
***
Three days later, the trials started, and the broadcast was evident in newspapers covering the day’s events. Students also missed a class or two, and sometimes the whole day, as they were called in to testify.
The trials were meant to last a week and be bared from a full public audience. The Dverger took Tom Riddle’s ‘safety’ seriously, if only so he could be held accountable for his crimes. Sometimes, after reading the day’s crime, in the darkness of his thoughts, Harry wondered if it would have been easier for Riddle to die.
The day Rita Skeeter dropped her book, The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, led to a huge ruckus in the great hall, as every person received one courtesy of an unnamed purchaser. It also meant that not a single thing regarding classes got done that day or for the rest of the week because it wasn’t just students reading the book avidly and the professors. Harry suspected the following debate would become a legend in the archives, leading him down a spiral of conflicting thoughts and research that no one could distract him from. Finally, in desperation, he slipped away from his soulmate and went down to the Chamber, needing to speak with an independent source because Salazar didn’t know the people involved.
Slipping into the study, the lights sprang to life, the whitewashed walls sparkling in the surprisingly bright light. Stepping around the chair positioned in front of the portrait, Harry slid his hand along the rune at the corner and stepped back as Salazar’s eyes blinked open, gazing at him critically and taking a minute to adjust before he nodded and put a hand on the picture, and stepped through with a flare of magic.
“Hello, Grandson.”
“Grandfather.” Suddenly ill at ease, Harry swallowed and turned away, scanning the bookcases along the back wall.
“The titles look good on you,” Salazar said by way of conversation, strolling around the room, mindlessly adjusting a stack of books Harry had left from a prior visit, “But that’s not what you want to talk about, is it?”
Shaking his head, Harry sank into the chair that had become his by default, ran a weary hand over his face, and admitted, “No, not exactly. It’s more of what I did during the claiming.”
“Ah, you’re talking about the advice I gave when you took my ring.” Salazar said in sudden understanding, “I thought it was good advice, and if I need to offer an apology for not discussing it as an option prior to the claim, then I will give it.”
“It was good advice,” Harry responded because he had believed that, but something was tugging at his memory, and now he wasn’t sure. “It was claiming the Peverell Ring, something Riddle had made into a Horcrux.”
“Yes, a disgusting bit of foul magic; I still blame an acolyte of Koschei for that bit being passed around.” Salazar said bitterly, “Anyway, what of the ring itself? I assume you spoke to the brothers.”
At that, Harry frowned, realizing his mentor was right. There had only been three overlapping voices that spoke. He noticed Salazar was smiling as he leaned against the desk, arms folded as he waited. “Is it because most of the line fell into squibs or something more?”
“You tell me, what did they say?” Came the prompt, and Harry scowled, suddenly regretting the visit. Salazar’s teaching method was probably the best for Harry, but it was frustrating to figure out the answers with what felt like limited information.
Collapsing against the chair, Harry rubbed his face for what felt like the millionth time that day, “They called me the Master of Death, and I understand it somewhat. I’m supposed to be the balance, the Lady’s right hand.”
“Alright, then, what’s the issue?” Salazar asked genuine bafflement in his voice.
“Is it a conflict of my vow when I claimed your ring to now seek Riddle’s death?” Harry asked slowly, a little surprised that was the truth, and rushed to explain before Salazar got agitated with him in his ignorance. “I- in my vow when claiming the title, I specifically said, ‘judge and demand restitution as you will.’ His punishment spread through the dark mark Riddle created, affecting his followers with random maladies including death, and left Riddle a squib.”
Shock drifted over Salazar’s face. He blinked, speechless, and slid off the desk to sink into the chair across from Harry. “Wow, okay, that I didn’t expect.”
Snorting, Harry couldn’t help but laugh, “Me either, but it worked; he was arrested because he obviously couldn’t help but confront me because of that stupid prophecy.” He waved a hand as Salazar opened his mouth, “I already know that bit. It was never meant for Tom, which is the issue I guess I’m having. The prophecy was about Dumbledore, and he’s spent the better part of ninety-six years trying to decipher it. He set up Grindelwald and Riddle to create the perfect Dark Lord; how much of Dumbledore’s influence can be attributed to Riddle and vice versa? It’s a fact that Riddle committed hundreds of crimes, and his crimes against me have been punished; it felt and still feels fitting that he was rendered a squib, effectively destroying his goals of immortality.” Harry sighed, “But it feels like I stole from everyone else. It’s only been a day, and people are screaming for his death, wanting to bypass the trials completely.”
“Ah….” Salazar nodded in understanding, “Why insist on the trials then? What was the point? His guilt is absolute, and I doubt he’ll ever feel true remorse for his actions.”
“I-because I can easily see how it would play out if I’d followed Dumbledore’s carefully crafted plan.” Harry said slowly, tears filling his eyes, “I have no doubt he expected Sirius to die at some point, leaving me without a functional support base. He was priming me to become his little solider who would willingly sacrifice myself for the greater good, and if, in the end, I lived, he would have held it over my head the rest of my life.”
“Held what?” The soft prompt came, and Harry felt a tear slide down his cheek.
“That I had the potential to become the next Dark Lord, and all he would have to do is nudge me in the direction he wanted me to go.”
“So you wanted to show the world that you had mercy and forgiveness. That’s not necessarily wrong, but it contradicts your duty as Death, Hadrian.” Salazar said, smiling kindly as he jerked in his chair. “The brothers say master because it feeds into the fable surrounding their legend, but their legacy is immortality; they can never let the truth of who they once were out to the populace, which I suspect you know, based on your research into the Hallows.”
“Yeah,” Harry croaked brokenly, “They were Thanatos, right?”
“Reincarnation is a thing wizards have never fully proved, but we both know differently; there might have been three overlapping voices that came from the ring, but I guarantee that they were all the same voice,” Salazar said softly and then reached over patting his hand. “My advice is to take care of Dumbledore before he can counter your move and let fate take care of Riddle. The lady has already determined his fate and is letting this play out as you requested because you’ve always been her favourite.”
***
Harry didn’t even bother trying to sneak out of the castle without talking to his husband. He knew he owed Draco an explanation for his disappearance and his plan; as much as Harry didn’t want anyone knowing, it felt like something he had to share with his soulmate, at the very least.
So, keeping to the shadows and with Sulis’s assistance, Harry made it back to their private suites without meeting anyway, slipping inside and making an immediate beeline for a hug. He wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and buried his head against his chest, his stature still not a match for his husband’s height, stalling the lecture Draco wanted to unleash.
Feeling Draco sigh and wrap his arms around him, returning the hug, Harry felt a bit better; the kiss he pressed to Draco’s clavicle softened his husband’s annoyance. “What happened?”
“I went and talked with Salazar.” Harry admitted, “I had ethical questions about my duty as the Master of Death versus the vow I made when I claimed the titles.”
“Ah…” Draco replied, tightening his hold, “I think you did the right thing, love.”
“I know I did, and I trust in the Lady that she’ll render final judgement when the time comes. His crimes against magic are too great to be allowed to live.”
“Alright,” Draco sighed and pulled back, looking down. “Then why did this feel like a hug begging for permission?”
Harry winced and admitted, “Because it kind of is. I need to take care of Dumbledore now before he can retaliate and try to counter the book’s damage or attempt to pin anything on me.”
“That makes sense, but how will you find him?” Draco asked, rubbing a hand down his back, “Sirius and Severus both said Dumbledore has gone to the ground, and no one has seen him since he disappeared from the school.”
Harry took a breath, knowing he was about to shock his soulmate, but he knew it couldn’t be helped, “I need to visit Nurmengard and have a conversation with Grindelwald.”
Thankfully, if somewhat surprising, all Draco did was sigh in resignation before grabbing his hand and tugging him into the bedroom and over to the trunk linked to their wardrobe at Black Manor, “I can’t say I expect to give this to you tonight, but I guess it’s fitting.”
Pushing Harry to sit on the bench, Draco ducked inside the trunk, withdrew quickly, holding a bundle of neatly folded fabric, and offered it with a slight blush. “They might be a bit big, but the tailoring charms will alter and adjust to fit.”
Curious, if not confused, Harry separated the clothing, finding dragon hide pants, vest and overcoat embedded with what felt like Draco’s magic, and leather bracers similar to the ones Sirius wore, “The bracers are a dimensional storage; it already holds food, health potions, cash and two spare wands, which isn’t much, but I wasn’t sure-”
Harry reached out and grabbed Draco’s hand while his husband rambled and tugged him onto his lap. The clothing spilled onto the floor as he gripped Draco’s waist and pulled him into a heated kiss, only pulling back when they were both breathless. “I love you, and I love it.”
Huffing dramatically, Draco shoved his shoulder and crawled off his lap to sit on the bench, “It’s rude to do that, knowing you’re just going to be leaving shortly.”
“I’ll make it up to you.” Harry was already stripping his clothing and pulling on the battle armour, marvelling at its lightweight and the way it reflected but drew in the light.
“It’s ethically collected,” Draco offered, mostly just to fill the silence, “Sirius helped me; he said he had an in with a dragon keeper in Romania; it’s from a Peruvian Vipertooth who was going through a moulting.”
Grinning, Harry pulled the jacket on. He stood and paced to the mirror his husband insisted had to be hung. He surveyed his appearance somewhat critically as he buckled the bracers onto his wrist before grabbing his firebolt and adding it to the storage.
It was only when he met his husband’s eyes in the mirror that Draco spoke, “Be careful. It’s entirely possible Dumbledore will be at the prison, considering it’ll be hidden as well.”
“I half expected you to ask how I’d find it,” Harry admitted as he turned, catching Draco shrugging his shoulders.
“I figured it was related to duty, and while you could use that duty to find Dumbledore, I think the book left you more questions than answers, and I doubt Dumbledore will admit the truth. Hopefully, Grindelwald is appropriately chatty and still pissed at his imprisonment to blab and answer anything you ask.” Draco offered as an explanation.
A weak smile tugged at Harry’s lips at the understanding and acceptance that was his soulmate, and he couldn’t help but walk toward him and kiss him again, lightly and reverently. “Thank you for believing in me.”
“It was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” Draco promised, peeking his lips, “Now go, and come back soon. Also, don’t forget to clean up your signature before you leave each location. We don’t need anything coming back on you.”
“Next summer, we’re going to start duelling. I feel naked without swords all of a sudden, and that is a strange, bizarre, and disturbing thought,” Harry admitted as he started buttoning the jacket. He paused when Draco huffed a laugh and crossed the room to dig in the truck again. He came out with a harness and two swords, sharing the same side.
“We can certainly duel because it would be nice to actually be better at something, but I suspect that the usage of these aregoing to be instinctive for you.” He helped buckle the belt and adjust the swords to lay flat on his right side and took Harry’s hand, making sure the ring touched the handle. “Push your magic through your hand, love.”
Complying, Harry shivered as the handles heated and met his husband’s eyes with a raised brow.
“The runes etched into the sword allow ancestral magic to share their experiences with the blades,” Draco explained and then finished dryly. “Given your ancestry, I’m sure they’ll keep you safe if it’s not instinctive. Just don’t fight it if it feels like someone else takes over your body. Alright?”
“Alright,” Harry agreed, dropping another kiss on Draco’s lips as his husband finished buttoning the jacket, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Draco whispered as Harry disillusioned himself before apparating through the wards without a thought. He sent a pulse of thanks to Sulis when she smoothed and then hid the ripples of his departure. The knowledge that it wasn’t just Draco who approved of his plan meant more than Harry expected.
***
Appearing at the gates to Nurmengard, Harry glanced up at the tower, reaching up a hand to touch the visible and pulsing shield.
It was putrid and an affront to magic, the sloppy spells that had encased Dursley’s home a front to hide what Dumbledore had perfected here.
Scowling in disgust, Harry sent a brief pulse of magic in, a silent challenge, and was unsurprised when they folded back and allowed him to step inside. The eerily silence was unnerving but expected. The rumours that Nurmengard was a living grave were evidently true because he only sensed one life inside the grounds, moving painfully slow towards him.
The doors to the castle opened at his approach. The ruins that met his eyes were apparently not an illusion like he expected. The spell craft was now doubting as a block against the weather as it ate away at the very foundation of the castle.
“Oh,” the voice was surprisingly steady, not as rusty from disuse as expected. It still held the melodic and charismatic intonation Harry somehow knew was how he drew people in, and he tilted his head curious, wondering if Grindelwald thought it would work on him.
Instead, the old man before him huffed a laugh of disbelief and shook his head, “I expected you to be older.”
“Oh?” Harry asked, “Then you know who I am?”
“Undoubtedly, it’s evident in your core, and I would recognize my wand anywhere even though it’s changed its physical appearance.” The man paused and held a hand, ushering him deeper into the crumbling castle, “Gellert Grindelwald, though you know that.”
“Hadrian Peverell,” Harry replied, watching resigned amusem*nt cross the old man’s face.
“Of course it is,” Gellert huffed, “you claimed the title too, didn’t you?”
Intrigued despite himself, Harry nodded, “I did, but how did you know about it. Dumbledore had no clue.”
Gellert didn’t answer immediately, muttering too low for Harry to hear as he led him through the castle, stopping at an open door. The room seemed to be the only one not displaying any signs of corrosion, though worn down, the paint that had once adorned the walls fading in patches. The furniture appeared to be held together by runic magic alone, and it made Harry somewhat hesitant to sit down, but he did when he was directed towards a chair; Gellert tilted his head to the side, “I’d offer tea, but you don’t seem the type. I can get a lovely coffee if that would be acceptable.”
“That’s fine, though I have to admit I wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome.” Harry replied, watching as Gellert moved to a little corner of the room, picked up a quill, and wrote on a piece of parchment that appeared glued to the table.
In a matter of minutes, a tray appeared on the table, a canister of coffee and two mugs, with a sugar and milk container and cookies visible, smelling heavenly as Gellert carefully carried it to the low table between them and set it down, hands shaking. “You can check for poisons, Your Grace.”
“You can call me Hadrian.” Harry offered, ignoring the offer to physically scan for potential poisons.
“Then please call me, Gellert. It seems appropriate somehow to be on a first-name basis with the person who is destined to kill me.” Gellert frowned at the table before looking around, “They forgot napkins.”
“It’s fine. Sit down and talk with me for a bit. I have some questions I was hoping you could answer,” Harry said, reaching forward to fill the mugs and indicating the sugar and milk.
“Two scoops and a splash, please,” Gellert responded, voice heavy with exhaustion. “I don’t like to discuss my actions during the war I caused. The wards Albus crafted make me relieve it every time I sleep.”
“I’m familiar with his brand of torture, Gellert,” Harry said softly, handing over the doctored coffee and filling his own mug, leaving it black. “It’s not about the war, though, if you’ll pardon my curiosity.”
“As you will, Hadrian, I think it better to answer your questions before I serve my enteral punishment,” Gellert stated, seeming to relax when he understood his curiosity had nothing to do with the war.
“Why did you say I’m destined to kill you?” Harry asked and then blinked because that hadn’t been what he’d intended to ask.
Gellert startled, cursing as he burnt his lip, “I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that the old coot hid another prophecy, but it does.”
Taking a sip, Harry hummed in appreciation and asked softly, “Are you sure he knows it?”
A bitter snort escaped Gellert, and he nodded, gesturing with one hand around him, “he did at one time, hence my prison. It was designed to hide me forever, even from you.”
“What’s the prophecy?” Harry could not help but be curious.
“On the night of the equinox, what you once sought will be the embodiment of one.
Thanatos walks the earth, one soul, once divine, still a favorite, and always loved.
Once a man, now legend faded into twisted myths, but in essence remains pure.
Bright your destiny, greater your crimes, no freedom will be granted, as no greater joy will you have, until he renders judgement on the damned.”
Harry was silent for a long time, his mind whirling, and he felt nausea bubble under his skin. “Your life forces are tied together.”
It wasn’t a question, but Gellert nodded and pulled the sleeve of his dress robes up, exposing his wrist, the black and cracked soulbond mark, the most offensive thing Harry had ever seen. Harry felt a flare of rage. “His doing?”
“Yeah, he used the magic of the soul bond, twisting it and tying it into the foundation of my castle.” Gellert explained sadly, “He said it was punishment for my crimes, and only through redemption could I achieve forgiveness, yet it was his obsession for ownership that drew me in, his compulsions that made me start everything. It’s what keeps me alive; I’m physically unable to kill myself, and I’m made to drink from the philosopher’s stone every night just to extend my life and, by extension, his own.”
“Let me guess, you started that routine in ‘91 or ‘92?” Harry asked dryly.
“Yeah, winter of ‘91.” The wizard admitted, apparently baffled that Harry knew that.
Frowning, Harry thought over the prophecy and shook his head at Dumbledore’s blindness. “How did you figure out the title?”
“I’ll admit, I’m not a saint. I did almost accidentally kill a student in my youth, but what isn’t known is it was an approved ritual I was leading. One of the runes was wrong, and I failed to notice it at the time – or at least not until it was too late, but I was the charity case, a Lord I might have been, but I was also an orphaned and penniless one. I was blamed for the professor’s fault because I was leading the circle.” Gellert stated, offering the information freely, and while it was interesting, it still didn’t answer Harry’s question.
“You see, I can do the dark magic, and yes, I understand it instinctively, like I believe you do. Yet, for all that ability, I was more into historical research. Albus used that, in his obsession with the Deathly Hallows, which was already deep-seated in his core when we met. I was intrigued; the idea that I could be a part of such a historical find was…” he sighed and rubbed his face, frustration clear, “I thought it would be a good thing, you know? I was seventeen years old, on the run and living in England at my great aunts. I thought it could be a redemption or the start of one.”
“It didn’t go that way though, did it?” Harry asked softly, sorrow filling him when Gellert shook his head.
“No, in a moment of weakness, he burrowed into my mind and began twisting beliefs I’d had to work for his benefit.” Gellert ran a finger over the bondmark. “He kept it intact until his magic touched the last brick. It was only when I was imprisoned entirely that he allowed me to remember everything I’d done, and he shares it with me when he was feeling particularly vexed.”
Harry sat up, understanding instantly, “You worked out how to influence him through the bond.”
Nodding, Gellert set his cup down, “Yes, I knew as soon as he set Riddle upon your parents that the magic in your core was distinctive; love, sorrow, rage, forgiveness and acceptance; it’s the basic principle of death.” He shrugged helplessly, “I couldn’t risk you dying, so I made him think of his own prophecy, and he marked you, and then I made him forget all there was to the Peverell line except for what fell into myth or legend.” A satisfied smirk appeared on Gellert’s face, “It would probably enrage him to know how much research he’s destroyed over the years as he searches for answers.”
“If you knew when I was a baby, why were you surprised by my age when I showed up?” Harry asked because that was still one thing he didn’t understand, and he was surprised to see a blush climb Gellert’s cheeks.
“Oh, that? Forgive me. The passage of time is distorted in this prison; I only know the passage of time, based on my nightly routine of potion drinking and Albus’s twice-yearly visits.” He paused and bit his lip. “If you don’t wish to confront him, I’d suggest heading back to your school, Hadrian.”
“And if I didn’t? Will he be here soon?” Harry asked curiously.
“Not soon. Albus will be here in forty-eight hours to gloat over another solstice come and gone, but I beg you, don’t confront him here. He’d probably compel me to fight, and I don’t want to. I want to fulfill my end of the prophecy, and if the Lady is merciful, she’ll let me rest.”
“I have one more question,” Harry rose to his feet, looking down at the wizard, “If you can answer it, then you can consider your part of the prophecy at an end, and the Lady will let you rest for a time.”
“What’s your question, Hadrian?” Gellert whispered, eyes shining.
“Where can I find Albus Dumbledore, Gellert Grindelwald?”
****
It was with a near-silent apparition that Harry landed in Dumbledore’s home, the name he’d chosen for his hovel, despicable – Avalon, indeed.
It was with a bit of surprise that Gellert had upheld his end of the bargain, as Harry cast, the spell silent and doubly effective given his use of the elder wand.
The crystal prism surrounding Albus was visible to the naked eye, and then he turned away, prowling around the home, waiting for Gellert to release the man.
It took a good ten minutes for a strangled gasp to echo throughout the home, and Harry turned, meeting the bitter eyes of a once powerful man.
“So you’ve come to kill me,” Albus said, tone flat.
“I’m definitely not going to do that, but I thought you’d have questions and I’m in the mood to gloat a little.” Harry admitted, sitting down and tapping the wand on his knee.
“Tell me what happened at the ministry. I think that’s the least you owe me for destroying my plans.” Dumbledore demanded, not moving, a defeated slump to his shoulders.
Harry tilted his head consideringly, “Tempus Immortalis.”
Dumbledore dropped his head in disappointment. “So you played God. You know that power corrupts. Why tempt yourself with something beyond your understanding?”
“I played at nothing. I’m not God and never pretended to be. I’m not responsible for what people believe. I’m her right hand and the Master of Death.” Harry replied calmly and then raised an amused brow when Dumbledore growled. “Yes, I know, your lifelong ambition, but as you said, power corrupts, and even though you attempted to atone, it was halfhearted as best. Whatever belief you had when you saw the invisibility cloak is pointless; your crimes are too great to go unpunished. You betrayed your soulmate, murdered your sister, stagnated the entirety of the wizarding world in a bid to be seen as the greatest of all, and in doing so, condemned your soul. Hecate demands justice, and who am I to deny her?”
“You dare speak her name?” Dumbledore demanded, outrage making him shake.
“Of course,” Harry replied, laughing, “I have nothing to fear from her.”
“It’s disrespectful.” The former headmaster scolded.
Shaking his head, Harry flicked the wand, watching it grow to the size of a staff, “No, disrespectful is trying to circumvent the destiny you created for yourself. You played into Gellert’s hands when he worked to fulfill his. Your prophecy was self-fulfilling; if you’d done nothing, I wouldn’t have been born to complete the circle because that’s what life and death are, a circle. The path to immortality should be left to legends and myths, like Merlin’s legacy, like my own.”
“So you understand, you want immortality as much as the next person.” Albus spat, flinching as he sat up.
Sighing, Harry ran a thumb over the smooth wood. “I don’t want it, Albus. It’s what I am. The difference is, I’m not afraid of dying, not when I know she’ll eagerly embrace me when she calls me home.”
Albus sat back, smugly stating, “Very well, then. Let’s get on with this. I’m looking forward to watching my legacy live on, like Merlin.”
Laughing, Harry shook his head, “Is that what you believe?”
“Of course it is. People are going to have questions when they discover my body, and they’ll trace it to you, and the boy who lived will be seen as the murderer of me, Albus Dumbledore.”
“You poor old fool, I’m not going to kill you myself.” Harry laughed, rubbing a thumb over his ring, watching Albus’s face go from smug to confused and then fearful.
“But-but, this isn’t fair!” Albus shouted, glancing around the room as shades filled it. “You’re supposed to end it; that’s what prophecy demands.”
“Because neither can live while the other survives? You mean?” Harry asked, leaning forward and resting his weight on the staff as the shades became solid, “but I am fulfilling it. I’m using a power you know not. I am death, Albus Dumbledore; I direct it as I will; Hecate has plans for your soul, so I felt giving your victims the rights to your life was fitting.” Harry rose to his feet and glanced at the people gathered, meeting green eyes so like his own, and felt tears fill his eyes, “You have until the witching hour ends, then the veil will pull you back, no judgement will befall you, and what you do here, this is my apology and gift to you.”
“It’s more than we hoped for, Your Grace.” A young girl moved through the sea of corporal and non-corporal bodies, her face lined with sorrow and intelligence that she never got to use in life.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, Ariana,” Harry whispered, gently touching her cheek, which she pressed into his hand.
“No apologies necessary; the Lady took me home herself.” The young girl confessed like it was a secret, and tears filled Harry’s eyes.
“I’m glad you weren’t alone then,” Harry whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Then he turned to face his parents. “Is it strange for you to know what I am?”
“You’re our son, no matter your destiny,” Lily whispered furiously, pulling him into a hug. “Or whatever your past was. It was an honour to be chosen. I’m just sorry for all you suffered.”
“I’m not,” Harry admitted, meeting his father’s eyes. “It’s made me who I am and given me my soulmate; he’s worth any suffering I had.” He paused and then met Lily’s eyes again. “It might infuriate you to mention this, but tomorrow morning, take a gander to visit your sister. She’s about to get the biggest shock of her life, and you deserve to see her reaction.”
“I’ll do that. Take care, Hadrian. Know that we had no regrets when we had you; you’re our pride and joy.” Lily agreed, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and let him go.
Taking one last look around the room, Harry apparated, as the first scream rent the air.
He landed hard, stumbling to his knees, stomach heaving. The cool touch of Draco’s hands calmed it enough to shift and lean against his husband, trying to steady his breathing, closing his eyes when he felt the hands run through his hair.
“Is it done?” Draco asked softly, moving around to prop him against the side of the bed. Then, he began the task of unlooping buttons.
“Yeah, he’ll be dead by sunrise. Grindelwald shortly after.” Harry admitted in a whisper as he tried moving his arms to help but accepted defeat when Draco brushed them down.
“Let me take care of you.” Draco pleaded, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
Exhausted and heart sore, all Harry could do was agree, eyelids already fluttering as Draco wrestled him from his clothing and into the bed. His last coherent thought was the bed shifting and Draco’s warm body curling around him, the press of lips against the nape of his neck cool against his overheated skin, before he knew nothing more.
December 1996
Walking into St.Mungo’s the morning of the Yule Ball was the last place Harry thought he would be, and by his husband’s frown of annoyance, it was clear Draco thought the same. That might have more to do with the fact they were there to visit the Weasley family.
Receiving the letter formally asking for a visit had been a bit of a shock, and the events from September were still turning in his mind. No one had really blamed him for what had happened, but he’d also been asked to wait until they reached out, something Harry had been sure would never happen.
Bill and Arthur stood on the other side of the check-in point, looking better but clearly exhausted.
Letting the security guard check his Phoenix wand, Harry slipped his hand into Draco’s and led him across the room, meeting Arthur’s eyes and receiving a wistful smile.
“It’s good to see you, Your Grace,” Arthur said after a minute of inspection. He nodded, apparently satisfied with what he saw, and then turned to Draco and offered a bow. “Consort Warwick, the attempted crimes members of my family committed not only hurt your husband, but they also hurt you, and for that, I apologize. A soul bond is a profound blessing, and it’s an honour to see it flourish.”
Draco blinked in surprise, and Harry knew his soulmate had expected to be ignored, so he was pleased the apology had been tendered to him first.
“While it might have been members of your family and their actions, the hand that caused it is Tom Riddles. I blame him, and I hold no fault to your family.”
Arthur blew out a breath and relaxed. “That is very kind of you, Your Grace.” He shifted uncomfortably, scratching the side of his neck. “I know you two must be busy, so if you could indulge me for another few minutes, Molly wants to speak with you both, although Ron has requested it be just Hadrian at this time.”
“That’s fine; we have a little time.” Harry agreed and let Arthur take the lead.
It didn’t take them long, Arthur stopping in front of an open door, “Molly’s inside, and Ron’s across the hall.” He paused and licked his lips hesitantly, “Please prepare yourself; the healing they’ve undergone has taken its toll on their bodies.”
Even with the warning, it was shocking to step into Mrs.Weasley’s room. The woman lying in bed was nearly unrecognizable; she was skeletally and thin, skin hanging off her body, and her once vibrant hair had been trimmed and curled close to her scalp in an attempt to hide the bald spots.
It was only Arthur moving around the room to sink into the chair by the bed and take the pale hand lying on the covers that convinced him this wasn’t a sick prank. “Molly, love. The Duke is here.”
Molly blinked slowly, gazing around the room. Her eyes took a minute to settle on the two of them, and her eyes immediately filled with tears. “I’m sorry….”
It was clear, it was painful for her to speak, and Harry moved across the room to kneel beside the bed, heart sore as he looked at the woman who, at one point, had genuinely cared: “Like Draco just told your husband, there is no fault to be had, Molly. It wasn’t Ginny’s fault; she was as much a victim of Tom Riddle as she was a pawn of Dumbledore.”
Molly flinched at Dumbledore’s name, eyes fluttering, “Hard to believe he was corrupt.”
Harry bit his tongue to keep from snapping. His annoyance had grown over the last few months as the truth about Albus Dumbledore came to light, and people had started speaking of him in the same hushed whispers as Voldemort: “He was a man, susceptible to greed and power, just as much as the next. He was responsible for his downfall and has no one to blame but himself.”
Molly nodded and squeezed Arthur’s hand, “Thank you for leniency?”
Arthur sighed at their bewildered expressions, “We know you asked not to press charges, and Bill could probably explain it better, but given the curses Ginny used and the details in her plans, the DMLE was leaning towards Azkanban or the kiss. Gringotts helped us reach a compromise, and we agreed to have her rendered a squib and have her memories ritually targeted and removed. We had to put her in a home to be cared for, and though there has been an adjustment period, she has settled in and is quite happy.”
Harry jerked like he’d been stabbed, “I never wanted that.”
“We know,” Molly assured him, patting his hand on her lap. Then, she shook her head, glancing at her husband pleadingly.
“We attempted to use the Healing Containment Chambers the Dverger have, five days of mind-healing, which equalled five years, and it made no difference. Whatever Riddle did was embedded into her core and damaged her very foundation.” Arthur explained sadly.
Harry closed his eyes, guilt filling him at the knowledge, and he felt the small voice reprimanding him for not doing more well up to scold him. Only the pulse of love coming from Draoc prevented him from spiralling entirely, and he said the only thing he could. “I wish I could have done more.”
“It’s a nice thought, Hadrian, but it was outside your control. Dumbledore ensured that when he never once mentioned mind healing after her first year. The blame in the end for what Ginny is now resides in his hands; the only thing I can be thankful for is she didn’t attract an obscurial because that was a fear we had for a while after reading about Ariana.” Arthur offered gently and glanced down at his wife, who had fallen asleep again. “She’ll sleep for a while now. Do you have time to see Ron?”
Rising wordlessly, Harry nodded, leaning over to press a kiss to Molly’s forehead and pushing a moderate bit of power into her.
Draco eyed him with non-judgemental eyes, but he felt questioned anyway so he shrugged, and turned from the room, his husband following, and taking a seat in a chair in the hall.
Knocking on the door Arthur had indicated was Ron’s, Harry waited, and then stepped back when Bill answered, and held open the door, giving him a sad smile. “He’s awake.”
“Alright.” Harry stepped inside, as Bill stepped out, pulling the door shut behind him, leaving Harry standing there uncomfortable as he rubbed sweaty hands on his robes and moved around the partition.
It took everything he had to hide his reaction to Ron’s physical appearance. If Molly had looked skeletal, Ron was one. There wasn’t a single ounce of fat on his body, his eyes where sunken and dull, and he had no hair at all, not even eyelashes, and it even appeared that the freckles he’d once sported had disappeared given the palour of his skin.
He met Harry’s eyes evenly, no emotion reflected in them, his voice wispy and thin. “Heard Riddle died.”
“Yeah, the last day of the trials, a flaming Cerberus appeared in the chamber, guarding Charon, complete with boat, and order him into it.” Harry agreed, sinking into a chair by the bed recounting what happened, trying once again to not think of how he had to argue that being escorted by Charon was NOT the honour some perceived, especially as Tom Riddle had been unable to pay his fare.
Ron was silent for a few minutes, eyes fluttering before he forced them open, “I owe you apology.”
“No, you-”
Ron shook his head, cutting him off, “Not for what you think, but becoming your friend.” Tears filled his eyes, “Stupid eleven-year-old me thought it was fun for blood-traitor to brag. Thought it gives me a leg up and status, being the friend with boy-who-lived.” He swallowed and drew in a shallow breath, “False pretensions, wrong, but once started. I couldn’t stop. I wanted people to question my worthiness because you didn’t know my history and defended me. Knew then needed to be only friend, hoped loyalty rub off.”
Harry closed his eyes, and nodded swallowing the hurt behind a blank face, it was no less then what he’d expected, “And Hermione?”
“A means to an end, easy smartest witch, powerful magic, would have been a good addition to family magic, the only hope of marriage was through mud blood.” Ron said without infliction, eyes fluttering close, chest inhaling on a snort.
Harry sighed in disappointment and rose to his feet, and left the room without a glance back, all he wanted was to grab his husband and go home, be knew they had one more stop to do.
Out in the hall, Draco stood as soon as he stepped outside, eyebrow raised, making Harry shake his head. Draco sighed and linked their hands together when Bill spoke casually behind them, “You didn’t have to come. None of them deserve that after what they did, but I’m glad you’re a better man than most would be in this situation. You’re a better man than I. As soon as Ragnok let me know that an anonymous donation had been given to my family to help with expenses during their recovery, I signed up for a permanent transfer; my portkey leaves in two hours.”
“I can only be who am I, no more, no less.” Harry offered, and shrugged, “My mother sacrificed her life so that I might live, if I spent my life stewing in bitterness, instead of living my best life in spite of the betrayal then I’ve done nothing but spit on her memory.”
Bill shook his head, snorting a bitter laugh, “Like I said, a better man than me, Charlie, Percy and the Twins. The four visited once, learned what had happened and walked out within an hour of hearing it. They didn’t even stick around for treatment options and haven’t responded to my owls.” He hesitated and then pulled out four envelopes, “It’s a lot to ask, but I know you at least talk to the twins, and you can read them even though they’re all the same, but could you attempt to get them delivered? They need to know that I disowned our parents too; Fleur and I are getting married when I arrive in France, and her family will accept me into their magic; I’m even changing my name and taking hers.”
Harry accepted the letters and knelt down using the chair to write on them, tapping each one before rising to his feet and handing them back, “You need to wait til your name has changed, but you can send them yourself after that, the names will appear so you’ll know what they changed them too.”
“Oh…” Understanding and relief dawned, “that makes me feel a little better about all of this, I was afraid…” He trailed off and flushed, shrugging uncomfortably, “I was afraid I’d be alone.”
“I understand, Bill, no judgement on my end.” Harry responded gently, and exhaled nosily, “I’m curious though why you’re doing this, beyond the fact the four of you’re siblings walked away.”
Bill glanced at the door Molly was roomed in, lips twisting bitterly, “I don’t want to taint your memories, but you- Mom was accepting money from Dumbledore for your care, the problem-”
“I know, Bill. I’ve known since the summer, an ancestor was brutal when it came to finances, and made it mandatory that ever knut be accounted for. Dumbledore was smart the first two years but slipped up or stopped being cautious cause he’d gotten away with it for so long. Instead of taking a lump sum, he started just moving money automatically from one account to the other; in the last year, it was a monthly deposit in her account.”
“It disgusts me,” Bill admitted honestly, “Compound that with Dad’s willful blindness and Mum’s- whatever it is, I can’t stand them anymore.”
“And Ron?” Harry asked softly, hoping Bill didn’t know the truth, but the expression on the older man’s face told him otherwise.
“There were a hundred different ways or things Ron could have done to put distance between himself and the shame of our blood traitor status.” He waved the four envelopes, “As evidenced by five children all doing the same, but it’s also why Charlie and I refused to work within the ministry. It might work for Percy, but he’d always been the odd one, even as a kid; the twins were always going to go places; what they’ve accomplished in six months more than proves that.” Bill sighed and glanced at his watch, “In the end, it pairs down to laziness and entitlement with all of them. Ginny might not have her memories, but every time Dad visits her, he’s spoiling her and acting like everything is dandy. To me, it’s Dad and Mom’s fault for not questioning Albus more or not thinking to ask me either, though in hindsight, during their visit to Egypt in ‘93, they worked in concert to keep me from being alone with Ginny.”
Exchanging a glance with his husband, Harry held out his hand, “If the faults are not mine, then it’s definitely not yours; we both did what we could with the limited knowledge we had.”
Bill looked up, brushing the tears from his eyes, hesitating before accepting his hand, “Thanks Yo-”
“It’s Hadrian, Bill, and I expect you to keep in contact. Alright?” Harry asked with a genuine smile when Bill nodded in shock. “It’s the same offer I gave the others; in fact, we’re going to see the twins tonight, so we have to take off.”
“Thanks, Yo-Hadrian. I should be the one consoling you, but you’ve managed to make me feel better about my decision than any pep talk I’ve given myself has.” Bill whispered hoarsely, “Now go, they’ve taken up enough of your time. Enjoy your Yule.”
“You too, Bill. Say hi to Fleur for me, tell her to keep an eye out for a summer invite, mother wants to hold a traditional Soliciste Ball.” Harry informed him as Draco twined their fingers together, and together they turned and left, the four remaining Weasley, nothing but a memory.
****
Landing at the gates to Hogwarts, Harry ducked the snowball that flew at his head, pulling up a shield that reflected the rest back, laughing at the squeals of cheating that erupted.
“Complain all you want, but if you wanna visit the Chamber, then we have to go now. I’m not risking mom’s wrath by being late to the ball.” Harry informed them, shaking his head as his husband bent, waving his wand, forming hundreds of balls with a simple incantation.
“Oy, yo, we yield,” Sirius yelled, summoning a white flag that he waved from behind a bush that was quickly echoed by the rest.
It didn’t stop Draco, as soon as they all stepped from hiding snowballs hit them in the face, the two soulmates bursting out laughing at the betrayal on their faces.
Then they spent twenty minutes throwing snowballs until the Headmistress showed up, shaking her head at their antics, “Do I need to start docking house points?”
Everyone froze, even the alumni, as they exchanged contemplative looks, wondering if it was worth it. In the end, they decided to make their way to the castle, the festive decorations spilling out onto the grounds and the flutter of happiness from Sulis making Harry lag behind, pulling his husband to a stop to watch the group amble to the front doors.
Hermione and Pansy walked arm and arm, Blaise and Theo walking on either side of the girls, Severus was walking hand in hand with Sirius, who was walking next to Narcissa, who was arm in arm with Remus, Neville had Luna on one arm and Hannah Abbot on the other, with Susan Bones next to her, and beside her, her Aunt, Amelia Bones. Tonks and her mother were chatting with and explaining to a wide-eyed Kingsley Shakelbolt some of the traditions they celebrate in the muggle world.
It was a small group, namely the core group, the ones that had supported Harry in his quest to restructure the educational system at Hogwarts. Some of them had been instrumental in escaping his relative’s house, something that wouldn’t have been possible if he hadn’t made the choice he had. If he hadn’t gone to the Chamber of Secrets, if he hadn’t found the book, if he hadn’t dared to cast that spell, something he knew to be classified as dark magic, his life would have been infinitely different. Yet, he had done all those things and received more blessings than he thought possible; he had his soulmate by his side, he had family and true friends, but most of all, he had an enduring legacy, that was his on his terms, and that made all the difference in the world.
Lifting his head from Draco’s shoulder, he looked at his husband and soulmate, squeezing his hand, “thank-you for rescuing you me, for believing in me even with our history, without you…” He trailed off unwilling to put to words what could have been different, earning a smile as Draco wrapped an arm around his waist.
“Your life isn’t the only one whose would have been drastically different, if I hadn’t.” Draco whispered, touching their foreheads together, “I’ve said it before, but loving you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done, Harry.”
“It has been pretty easy, once you stopped being a prat.” Harry agreed with a little mischievous grin at the look of betrayal that crossed Draco’s face. Sliding his arms around Draco he raised onto the balls of his feet, and brushed kiss across his husbands lips. “Come on, lets go introduce you to Merlin’s son before we dance the night away.”
Draco jerked back in shock, mouth falling open. “Merlin’s son….”
Harry grinned, pressed another kiss to Draco’s lips twining their hands together as they walked up the steps to Hogwarts great doors.
The End
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