Serpent's Bloodline: Legacy of the Basilisk

Cornelius Fudge was seething.

"What do you mean that if I ever dare to threaten Xenophilius Lovegood again I will get sued?" he cried. The man in front of him just looked at him unruffled.

"Exactly what I said," he answered the red-faced Minister. "My clients don't like that you tried to interfere with a private business. If you ever dare to do so again, we will go to court - and believe me, Minister, it won't end favourable for you."

Cornelius hissed wordlessly at that.

"I have every right to stop a liar from spreading his lies throughout the population!" he finally spluttered. "And if The Quibbler doesn't give up Oliver Twist I will make sure that that rag is shut down!"

"Like I said before, Minister, if you ever dare to come near Xenophilius Lovegood again, if you ever dare to threaten him again - it will be the last thing you will ever do," Magus Adam Selwyn, lawyer of Morganaadth, said coolly. "Have a good day, Minister."

And with that the lawyer turned and left, leaving seething Fudge.

The minister gripped the magazine in his hands tighter, crumpling it slightly.

"We will see how long you will stand behind that Oliver Twist when I officially proclaim him a liar and disturber of peace!" he whispered. Of course, he couldn't use the Daily Prophet to do so anymore since that newspaper was now also printing Twist's article - but there were always other ways.

"You will regret ever writing a single line, Twist," Fudge said, and with that he threw the magazine across the room. It landed open, showing of the article that Fudge despised more than anything else in the moment:

The Ministry's gamble

" Sirius Black is innocent!" with that unbelievable statement, the Wizengamot meeting ended yesterday. Truly? Innocent?! I know, I pointed out the probability of that, months ago - but to find out that Sirius Black, famed mass-murderer, betrayer of the Potters, and right hand man of the Dark Lord Tom Riddle never had a trial, still blows my mind.

Of course, you'll now say: "But you've already talked about Lord Black!" My answer to that will be simple: Of course I have talked about said man before - but back then it was mere speculation, contrary to now, when said speculations were finally confirmed. What hasn't been confirmed so far instead was the reason why it happened in the first place.

Fact is: Everyone - Death Eater and Imperius-victim - back then got a trial… except, that is, Lord Sirius Black. Fact is as well that Sirius Black was hailed as the right hand man of Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord, betrayer to the Potters, and mass-murderer. One should think that at least two of those 'titles' would have put Black on the top of the list of those who will get a trial - best by shoving Veritasserum down his throat before bringing him into court, just to ensure the truth, of course.

Instead he was quietly chucked away into Azkaban. Now, forget for a moment that the Lord Black was innocent. Imagine that he wasn't. Do you know the consequences?

The consequences would have been a man in Azkaban who would have known exactly what Riddle was working on, who worked for him - marked and unmarked followers - who was imperiused, who was imprisoned somewhere or killed, who was still on the hit-list of his Death Eaters, etc. If Sirius Black truly had been the right hand man, like he was hailed back then, shouldn't we accuse the Ministry of not doing their duty? They had, as they thought back then, a truly valuable prisoner in their care - and they did nothing!

The Longbottoms were attacked two days after Blacks imprisonment - do you truly think that if Black would have been the right hand man of Voldemort he wouldn't have known of the plan to attack this family?! The Bones' died four days after, the McKinnons six - all deaths that could have been averted if the Ministry truly would have believed their claim of Black's allegiance. And yet, he was never questioned - as if the Ministry never cared about its own subjects back then.

Of course, you might say: "But that was back then! We've got another Minister now!" And I will have to answer you: "Yes, we do - but does that make him any better than the last?"

Fact is: This Minister tried as well to discredit an innocent Lord - Lord Potter, our saviour - by accusing him of staged charges. Fact is as well that he dismisses the death of a young boy, Cedric Diggory, as unimportant even if the murderer was never caught. Better yet, the Minister refuses to even ask the only witness of Cedric Diggory's death for a statement. Instead he is trying to discredit young Lords and innocent journalists.

And do you know the consequences of that?

The consequence is that there's a murder on the loose in the Wizarding World, and yet, there is no one even looking into it. Just on Hallowe'en Azkaban prison was broken into and known Death Eaters vanished. The Minster's first reaction to that? Accusing Black - a man who was then proven innocent. So the Minister simply went on to his next target: Accusing the man who incriminated Black, Peter Pettigrew. And yet, even after finding out through the evidence that Lord Black provided, the Minister is still unwilling to even listen to our very own Saviour, Lord Potter, who told him that Pettigrew was the one killing Cedric Diggory back then in summer. Isn't it finally time to get together the evidence for the murder of an innocent seventeen year old? Isn't it time to listen to the only survivor of what might have been an ordeal? Or do you want to live with an unknown mass-murderer on the loose?

The ministry has locked away a man they thought to be the right hand man of a Dark Lord without a trial once - are they willing to disregard what knowledge they can gain through Lord Potter's memories about that new threat, simply because one man is afraid that Lord Potter might have evidence that he doesn't want to be true?

Think about the Bones, the Longbottoms, and the McKinnons. They all might have lived if the ministry would have truly believed their claim of Lord Black being the right hand man of Tom Riddle and using the knowledge he supposedly had. If they just had questioned the man, maybe then Pettigrew could have been found early and maybe then the true right hand man of Tom Riddle would have given away the knowledge of those attacks before they happened. We're now in a similar situation like back then. Lord Potter knows the killer. Lord Potter has seen him - and yet, the ministry refuses to even view his memories.

What if the murderer will murder again? Will you just watch on? Will you just wait until you are the one on his target list? Just remember: There's someone who can identify the ones who killed Cedric Diggory. Are you willing to be responsible for further deaths because you disregarded the evidence you have? The previous government is already partly at fault for the deaths of three families - if you don't force the current one to act, can you be sure that it won't be responsible for even more dead because of inaction in the end?

I, for my part, don't want to know. And so I plead with the Minister, with the government, and everyone else who is willing to listen to give Lord Potter the right to speak up about Cedric Diggory's death.

It's a simple case of viewing evidence - and yet, maybe it's the only hope for potential future victims. If the Minister refuses, I will hold him responsible for every future dead who's killed by the murderer who killed Cedric Diggory thanks to the Minister's inaction. So I plead with the Ministry: Give Lord Potter the right to finally speak up!

And maybe, if we're lucky, no other family will have to lose a child because the murderer is caught before he or they can do more harm than they already have…

Oliver Twist

Harry put down the newspaper he had been reading. He was quite happy with the pre-arranged article he had send Xeno. Harry had known, thanks to Amelia Bones and Augusta Longbottom, that Sirius' case would be viewed by the Wizengamot, soon. So Harry had pre-written the article since Amelia had told Augusta that there was no way that Sirius wouldn't get free. Harry was quite proud of the article. It fit wonderfully into his plans. Now he had just to put something else in motion - and if he had to risk being tattled on for that one again, well, so be it…

His gaze wandered to his best female friend. Hermione was working on her homework. She was scribbling frantically and Harry looked at her sheet of parchment with interest. He read her work thoroughly, just to read it again afterwards. After he had read it the third time he finally decided to speak up - after all, what better time than now?

"Uh… Hermione?"

"What do you want, Harry?" Hermione asked, a little bit peeved that Harry would bother her while she was doing her homework.

"What are you writing there?" Harry asked, still looking at her paper.

"My homework for Ancient Runes, Harry," she answered crisply.

Harry still did not stop looking. His eyes were traveling through her lines as if he was reading them.

"I don't understand it," Harry said, making sure to sound troubled. "Are you sure you are doing it right?"

"It's Ancient Runes, Harry," Hermione said coolly. "Of course you don't understand it. I am writing Runes."

"Yeah, wrongly," Harry answered shortly, still letting his eyes wander. "Your sentence does not make any sense."

"How would you know that?!"

"Look at it!" The boy answered. "Whatever you want to say - you don't say it at all! Your whole text is full of grammar errors!"

"As if you would know!" Hermione snorted. Ron instead laughed.

"Don't annoy her too much, Harry," he howled laughing. "She might stop helping us in our classes!"

"I don't need help in my classes, Ron," Harry answered shrugging. "And she has written a lot of rubbish!"

"Harry!" Hermione stared at him angrily.

"No! Look, Hermione!" Harry retorted. " And those druids the runes used are permanently differ from our use today - what the hell are you trying to say with this sentence?!"

Hermione blinked. Of course she had heard Brezhoneg before. Her teacher had spoken it when she read out the runes. But Harry's accent was different. When Professor Babbling was reading the runes her wording was halting and she had to think about every word she was pronouncing carefully.

Sometimes Professor Babbling even gave them two or three possible pronunciations - simply because they had no way knowing how the druids had really pronounced their words.

Harry instead had been reading her sentence as if it was plain English. Not hawed, not searching for words… just reading.

"Harry, what…?" She stopped, unsure what she really wanted to say.

"What?" Harry asked as if nothing special had happened. "Still not convinced?"

This question finally let Hermione find her voice again.

"You… you have been reading runes, Harry!" She cried, still unable to comprehend what just happened.

"Yes…" Harry said slowly, now looking at her as if she was a wild tiger ready to strike.

"No-one is reading runes like that anymore!" Hermione tried to tell him. "You shouldn't be able… Professor Babbling is one of the best at Ancient Runes - and she still has to think about every word she is reading! How can you read it as if it was plain English?!"

Harry blinked at that and stared at her text again, then at her and finally again at her text. Then he shrugged.

"That doesn't matter, Hermione," Harry answered, shaking his head. "Your use of runes is way more important! How do you want to use them in magic when you are writing like that?!"

It took a moment to understand his question, and then Hermione looked at him with complete confusion in her eyes.

"Harry, you can't use runes for magic," she said. "They are useful to understand old texts - but they aren't used for any kind of magic."

When she finished her sentence, Harry sighed.

"Why, by wind and fire, do you think that runes can't be used in magic?!" He said, shaking his head again. Hermione opened her mouth to reply… she wasn't even sure what she wanted to say herself - just to be stopped by Harry who continued as if nothing happened.

"Well… let's fix your text and maybe later I will show you…" he finally said, adjusting her text so that he could read it better.

"This sentence I read before, what do you want to say?" He asked.

Hermione stared at him, still astonished by his words, but she answered anyway.

"I wanted to write: And thus, the runes the druids used, are absolutely different than the ones we use today." She answered.

"So you mixed up ehwaz and eihwaz again," Harry said.

"Huh?"

" Ehwaz," he pointed at the rune in her text. "This has to be eihwaz. When you're writing the wrong rune here, the meaning changes and the 'thus' you want to write will change in 'those' - which you definitely don't want to write here."

"Huh?" Hermione looked down on her text, utterly flabbergasted.

"That can't be right, Harry," she finally said. "I am sure this word is pronounced like written with ehwaz."

"It is," Harry answered shrugging. "It's still written with eihwaz, though. It's just one of the exceptions."

"Exceptions? What exceptions?!" Hermione asked, now staring at Harry as if he was crazy. "There are no exceptions!"

"Does your class have something like a dictionary?" Harry asked sighing.

"Of course!" Hermione answered peeved.

"Then look it up."

She stared at him for another three minutes, and then she took out her runes-book and looked up the word. And there it stood in cold print - written with eihwaz.

"How…?!"

"I told you it was written with eihwaz, " Harry just said, shrugging. "That's because it was once pronounced with it. So, let's change your sentence. Write: And thus, the runes the druids used are absolutely different than the ones we use today."

Hermione blinked again when he dictated her the sentence.

Finally she grabbed her quill again to write down what Harry had been dictating her.

"Stop!" Harry said when she wrote the first rune.

"Really, Hermione! You can't write runes like that! You will ruin your spell work!"

Hermione stared confused at her text while Ron now looked absolutely flabbergasted from one of his friends to the other.

"What am I doing wrong now, Harry?" Hermione finally asked.

"Your runes are sluggish," Harry answered, shaking his head. "You have to write them neat to use them for spell work."

"I am writing neat!" Hermione said coolly.

"No. You cannot change their outlining," Harry answered persistent. "They all have to fit in a square."

"What are you talking about, Harry?!"

The boy sighed and claimed the quill in Hermione's hand with his left. And then he wrote down the sentence beneath her own writing.

Hermione starred at the sentence.

She had to give it to Harry. When she compared her writing and his, hers was definitely sloppy and childlike. With Harry, every letter he used seemed to use the same space the others did - there was no difference, even if the letter itself consisted just of a few strokes.

"Wow, that's really, really neat, Harry," Hermione said, still looking at the written sentence. Harry just shrugged.

"It's the way it has to be, when you want to use them for magic," he answered. "You should learn to write them properly like that."

Hermione still stared at the parchment in front of her.

"I doubt I will be able to write like that, Harry," she finally said.

"Then use something to help you, like… like the Muggle-math notebooks or something like that."

"Harry - even if I don't write as neat as you do, I don't have to. You just use runes for old texts, they have no other use and so I don't have to…"

Harry sighed at that and took out his wand. Before Hermione could even finish her sentence, he drew a few runes in the air with it. The runes flashed, and suddenly the noise of the common room vanished. It was as if they suddenly were alone in the full room.

"Neat," Ron said. "What spell did you use, Harry?"

"No spell, Ron," Harry answered, stowing away his wand. "Runes."

Hermione gawked at him. Her gaze flew through the common room and the missing noise and returned to the wizard who did this.

"How?" She asked.

"I told you, you can use runes for magic," Harry answered shrugging. "It's a simple ward - something old family houses have. There is no equivalent in normal spell work."

"But… but…" Hermione stuttered. "But why didn't Professor Babblings tell us?!"

"Because using runes like that can be deadly if you do it wrong," Harry answered, suddenly serious. "Spells you can easily reverse - runes you can't. You have to disable their hold on you or you will never be able to escape them. If you write them sloppy or wrongly you will suffer for it - die for it if your spell work was a more complex one."

"Stop! What about the runes you used here?!" Ron asked suddenly fearfully. "You know… you know how to reverse them, do you?! I don't want to be deaf forever!"

"You're not deaf," Harry answered, rolling his eyes. "I just silenced this area. When you walk two feet this way…" he pointed to the crowed area of the room. "… you will be able to hear all of them again. The runes are not keeping you here, so the worst that could happen would be having a prank-plotting area in the middle of the common room. Nothing grave.

And don't worry. I know how to un-spell the area again. I also did nothing wrong because I can write runes and I know my grammar - so no danger here."

"Neat," was Ron's reply, while he stood up and walked two feet to his right until he left the silenced area and returned. "Absolutely neat - can you teach me, Harry?!"

"I don't think I can," Harry answered. "You need a lot of knowledge beforehand to even try to cast anything simple. You do not learn it over night."

"Well, you seem to have just done that," Hermione said, looking at him strangely. "When exactly did you learn this?!"

Harry grinned and shrugged.

"A long time ago," he answered. "A really long, long time ago."

For a moment, Hermione hesitated and Harry could again see the suspicion in her eyes. He returned her gaze evenly, his eyes promising her that if she even dared to go to Dumbledore with this, it would be the last time ever that she would be able to call herself 'friend'. Hermione's eyes widened, then she snorted.

"Very funny, Harry," she said, choosing to ignore the unexplainably of Harry's talent. "And now tell me who taught you this stuff to prank me."

At that Harry sighed.

"No one," he answered seriously. "I did not learn anything to prank you - I am in fact not pranking you at all. I thought you might want to have help."

Hermione stared at him with unbelieving eyes.

"Look - if you don't trust me, why don't you let me help you and afterwards go to someone else so that he or she can look it over," Harry suggested. "I am sure you know some older Gryffindors or even Ravenclaws that have taken Ancient Runes as well. They can tell you if my suggestions really sound totally wrong. Or go directly to the Professor if you don't trust their judgement. I don't mind this time around."

For a moment it looked as if Hermione did not want to do something like that, but then she nodded.

"Okay, help me. But if it's wrong then do never bother me again, deal?"

"Deal," Harry answered shrugging. He did not need to help her at all, but it was the perfect opportunity to set up his stage and he also had decided to try to kit the friendship with her a little bit. He knew that he did not involve her or Ron like the younger Harry had used to, so he had searched for a way to still be friends with them - even if they weren't his closest friends anymore…

Now he had just to wait until Hermione would show it to someone else - and Harry was pretty sure that she would go to the professor of Ancient Runes with it and not to some other student. Of course, she might even go to Dumbledore but Harry was sure that she wouldn't risk it for now. She was still collecting evidence about his changes - and maybe, just maybe, she would be able to accept that he was different without going to Dumbledore first. If she couldn't, Harry wasn't sure if her friendship was still worth it to hold on. He couldn't live with friends who spied on him for one of his enemies after all…

A day later, Professor Bathsheda Babbling had an interesting visitor after lunch.

"Miss. Granger," she greeted the young girl when said girl entered her office. "How may I help you?"

"Well…" the girl hesitated.

"Don't worry, just tell me," Bathsheda said and finally the girl stepped forward and showed her an essay.

"Could you look through it and tell me if the grammar is right, professor?" the girl asked and Bathsheda raised one of her eyebrows.

"You know I cannot…"

"No! It's just that you know most when it comes to ancient runes and while I was writing the essay for this class someone saw it and corrected my grammar but… but I don't know if I can trust his advice because I… well, because I thought he knows nothing about ancient runes…"

Bathsheda frowned when she heard the girl's explanation but still took the essay. The first thing she noted was that the style of the essay was completely different. While Hermione Granger did know her runes she still wrote in a style a young child would use. The grammar in this essay was more complex and more correct then anything Bathsheda had ever seen produced by a student.

"Do you have something that is written by this mystical person?" Bathsheda finally asked the girl. Hermione Granger turned to her schoolbag and started to look through it. Finally she handed Bathsheda another parchment, this time written by someone completely different. Bathsheda could see the difference without even trying to. While Hermione Granger did write neat - the person who had written the sentences on the other parchment did write even neater. Hermione Granger's letters looked like something produced by a child when you compared them both.

"He told me that I write like a baby," Hermione Granger declared in that moment. "He also told me that I would be unable to ever use those runes in magic when I don't learn to write neat."

Bathsheda blinked and looked at the girl in front of her.

"I would like to meet this mysterious person," she said finally.

"So… so the grammar is correct?" the girl asked hesitating.

Bathsheda snorted. "More than correct. I would say absolutely perfect, not even a master can write like that. That's the style used in books that are centuries old. I never thought a student would ever be good enough to even come near something like that. Normally it takes decades to write neat and grammatically good enough to write like your friend. When he's really as good as it looks like I really need to speak with him. Someone with so much talent should pursuer ancient runes."

Hermione Granger starred at her.

"He is really that good?" she asked astonished.

Bathsheda nodded.

"He could be a Rune Master in no time," she answered. "Whoever your friend is - I cannot belief he did not elect the subject in third year!"

The girl in front of her blinked.

"How do you know…?"

"I am sure I would have found him long ago if he had taken my class," Bathsheda answered. "Would you be so kind and tell him to come to me?"

"I… I will," the girl stuttered. Then she hesitated before she added, "thank you for checking my essay." And with that the girl left. Bathsheda's gaze followed her, while she tried to figure out who in this whole school knew so much in runes that it equaled her own knowledge - or even surpassed it…

Bathsheda got her answer just a few hours later. She was sitting in her office, trying to translate a text she had found in the library some weeks ago.

The text was old and written in runes and Brezhoneg. It was about transfigurations and Bathsheda was sure that it had information in it that Minerva McGonagall would steal for. The only problem Bathsheda had, was that the text was too complex for her to understand it fully.

She had translated the most of it but there were a lot of text passages she simply wasn't sure about. She sighed and put down the book again to close her eyes. She wasn't sure if she would ever be able to translate the text fully.

In that moment the door to her office opened. Bathsheda looked up just to see Harry Potter coming in and closing the door softly behind him.

A warm red glow indicated a ward of some kind that fell into place when he closed the door.

"What…?" she started, but was interrupted by the boy himself.

"You wanted to see me, Professor," he said neutrally.

"Uh… I did?" she said, a little bit stumped.

"You asked Hermione Granger to send for me a few hours ago," the boy answered softly.

It took a moment to catch up for Bathsheda.

"So you are this mysterious person who has a better grasp for ancient runes than any other student I ever saw."

The boy shrugged and stepped forward to her desk.

Bathsheda smiled at him when she saw his interest in the book before her on the desk.

"I try to translate it for your Head of House," she told him. The boy said nothing but he turned the book in front of her to look at it. Bathsheda saw his eyes travel through the lines faster than her own could.

"Permanent transfiguration - a complicated subject you are translating there, Professor," the boy said.

"You can tell?" Bathsheda asked surprised. The boy in front of her snorted.

"I am able to read, Professor," he answered.

"But that's a really complicated text in runes…" Bathsheda said surprised. The boy just shrugged and turned her translation to also look through it.

"You have made some mistakes in there," the boy said.

Bathsheda looked at him startled and turned the texts so that she could read them.

"I do not think so…"

"Oh, but you have," the boy said. "Let me explain…"

The next half an hour Bathsheda learned more about Ancient Runes than she had ever before. The things the boy mentioned were startling but at the same time fitting. Suddenly the text she had been trying to comprehend for the last three weeks made absolute sense to her.

While the boy spoke, she took hastily written notes, promising herself that she would write them better later. The boy frowned when he saw her writing down her runes.

"You are also not writing neat," the boy said.

Bathsheda blinked at him in surprise and looked down on her notes.

"I just need to know what you said later," she told him. "There is no need to write neat."

The boy frowned again, clearly not agreeing in opinion but he said nothing and just continued.

Finally he stopped.

"You should try to translate the book with this information. I think that might be enough to understand everything," he declared.

Bathsheda looked down on her notes and back up to him.

"How do you know all that…?" she asked. "There is no-one that knows…"

"Family Magick," the boy answered. "I am not allowed to tell you."

Family Magick.

Bathsheda was sure that the Family Magicks the boy was talking about weren't the runes itself but the comprehending he had for them. She had heard a lot about Family Magick before. Her family, the Babbling Family, and all the other traditional families had a kind of Family Magick. Normally it was a special ability that the family-members were born with.

She had heard about a lot of abilities that counted to Family Magicks. Because of that she knew of the fire-ability that once travelled through the line of Pendragon - or that's what the legends and myths of the Pendragon-line talked about. She knew that the Potter family had the ability to guide energy. Still, there were abilities not every family displayed. Some abilities were kept hidden - maybe like the ability that enabled the young Potter in front of her to understand the runes and the language they were written in so easily.

And it was this thought that led her to another idea.

"So you have the ability to understand texts like that easily?" she asked the boy.

Harry Potter nodded.

"Have you ever tried it with another language then Brezhoneg? Or with different runes?" this time the boy shrugged.

"Why should I?" he asked innocently.

"Well, I have an old, worn, black, leather book with faded green writing on it," the she answered. "I do not understand it and I have not found a way to translate it until now."

"And you wish for me to take a look at it," the boy concluded.

Bathsheda stared at Harry Potter. And there she had heard some of the other teachers complain that he did not pick up on things fast enough…

Instead of answering, she stood up and opened one of her cupboards. There the book she had lend from the library was stored in. Bathsheda had wanted to try to translate it but she had to stop at the first page. The writing of the book was extremely neat but the language used was no language known by her. She guessed it was an old dialect that had been forgotten long ago. To her dismay she had not found a starting point to understand it until now.

"I fear you also might not be able…" Bathsheda started, but stopped when Harry Potter took the book from her hands and started to leaf through it. He finally opened the book fully on one page, his finger traveling through the lines.

Bathsheda held her breath. It would not be so easy - would it?!

"Are… are you able to understand…?" Bathsheda asked the boy. Harry Potter looked up and in her eyes.

"I think I am," he answered. "But I must look at it more closely to be sure. Would you mind if I take it and try to translate it?"

Bathsheda stared at the boy in front of her. Several questions were filling her mind. How was he able to read what even she was unable to?! How could he understand runes without learning them before?! She knew he had been raised by his Muggle Aunt so there was no way he had learned to read runes at home - so how…?!

Was it really just the Family Magick?!

But before she could even utter one sentence, the boy's eyes pierced into her own. Something shifted in her mind and she started to forget what was so special about the book in the young boy's hands before her.

"May I take it?" He asked her and she found herself nodding the positive.

"Thank you."

And with that the boy left the room, leaving behind Bathsheda, who was still unable to comprehend, what exactly had happened. After all, the book the boy had taken was nothing special at all - so why bothering to ask her for it? It had been old, worn and strained, and some pages had gone missing. She had found it today between her other books and had thought to throw it away. And she would have put it in the waste bin if he wouldn't have taken it before…

So why had he even bothered to ask for it?!

Bathsheda would never know that her memory had been shifted that day so that the book was nothing special anymore in her mind at all…

That night, Harry and Regulus met in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Alright, I've got the book," Harry said. "I'll soon be able to work around the current wards to add my own ward for the Horcrux detection to them."

"So you didn't find its whereabouts in the castle when you did the ritual?" Reg asked concerned. Harry shook his head.

"Tommy interfered," he said, and Regulus blinked confused.

"Tommy?"

"Tom Riddle, also known as the Dark Lord," Harry answered. "I don't think that he actually ever grew up enough to be a Tom, so I usually call him Tommy in my head…"

Reg raised an eyebrow at that.

"You're awfully interested in talking today," he remarked and Harry shrugged.

"I'm dying. I have the right to have some fun before I kick the bucket," he answered and immediately there was concern in Reg's eyes to see.

"What do you mean: 'You are dying?'!" he asked, his face rapidly losing colour. Harry just smiled at him.

"There's always a price to pay," Harry said. "The ritual on Hallowe'en basically went wrong - the consequences to something like that are always death or losing one's mind. Since I'm actually quite depended on my mind, I'm quite happy that I got the first consequences to deal with."

"And you choose to tell me that I'll lose you quite soon just like that? Without further warning in a single sentence?" Reg exclaimed in disbelieve. Harry just rolled his eyes.

"You and I know that you're just here with me because I'm about to kill off Tom. If I wouldn't, you wouldn't be there."

"You basically raised me from the moment you pulled me out of that lake! You are the one who's responsible that I'm a half-way decent human being now! Do you truly believe that I wouldn't care about you if you weren't about to kill the Dark Lord?"

Harry thought about that for a moment. Then he shrugged. "No," he said. "But it doesn't matter either way."

"You're dying and -"

"And I still have some time until it's truly something to be concerned about. I guess my death is at least half a year away - so may we return to more pressing matters now?"

Reg opened his mouth at that, but then just closed it.

"Alright," he gave in. "What do you think is more important than you dying?"

"I had a stint into Tommy's mind while I scared away the Dementors that he wanted to recruit," Harry answered. "I might not have found the location of the Hogwarts Horcrux - but I have a good guess about another one now…"

"And how did that happen?" Reg wanted to know and Harry grinned.

"Seems that even as a half insane ghost-like being I'm still capable of doing something usable," he said smirking. "When I used the rune connection I built between him and me to pull me to him, I got a short glance not only in his emotions and current plans, but into his past as well. Truly, if I had known how usable that damn rune-connection could be, I would have done a more thorough one than I did back then…"

"If you could do it - why didn't you?" Reg asked surprised and Harry grimaced.

"Because, truthfully, I'm quite happy that I can stay out of his mind for the most parts. I needed the connection to him to ensure that I have some warning before he acts and to manipulate him to some kind - but the connection can go both ways, and I definitely don't want to find a Dark Lord in my mind. My knowledge of the Dark Arts would make him to a nearly unstoppable opponent if he ever had access to it. I wouldn't risk it."

"Better so," Reg said gulping.

"My thoughts exactly," Harry said gravely. "Still - doesn't change my wish that it would be different, sometimes… Now, back to the knowledge I gained thanks to my involuntary visit at the Azkaban raid."

"So… what did you find out?" Reg asked sighing.

"I need some information about Tom Riddle's family, his Wizarding family, the Gaunts," Harry answered. "If I understood it right then he has hidden one of his Horcruxes at the old home of the Gaunt family."

"So you want me to collect that information?" Reg asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I can't leave here," Harry said shrugging.

"And I'm dead," Reg commented.

Harry grinned at that.

"Even more the reason for you to do it," he said. "There's no way that anybody will recognize you when you break into the Ministry -"

"And I thought that Augusta Longbottom was helping you now," Reg said sneering. "She's part of the Wizengamot. Can't you send her?"

"Well, I originally planned to send her to retrieve the information - but you seemed quite eager to do it yourself…" he answered grinning. "I wouldn't dare to object if you wish to do something more than to be my messenger to Augusta."

Reg snorted at that.

"So you send a dead man as a messenger?"

Harry shrugged at that.

"Dobby and Winky can't do it. I need someone who can do some research in the Muggle world, if we have to. Augusta knows nothing about the Muggle world and Dobby and Winky can't enter it without being obvious, I can't go since I'm a student here - so you're the only one left."

"Great!" Regulus exclaimed. "Just great! I've been 'dead' for over fifteen years - I am happy to be 'dead'! And now you send me to one of the members of the Wizengamot to work with! What about me being a happy 'dead'? I don't want to 'live' again!"

Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Don't complain, Reg. You knew for at least six years that you would return to the 'living' again sometime in the future. Your brother's free now, meaning that he might need someone to have his back when he takes on his true place as Lord Black. You're the only one who can support him, so it would be good for you to return slowly to the 'living' now."

"My brother hasn't even shown any interest in his lordship until now!" Reg said.

Harry just shrugged, but said nothing, so Reg continued agitated: "You and I know that he despises his family! He wouldn't even think about taking on the lordship of house Black now that he's free!"

"He wouldn't," Harry answered nodding. "And that's the reason why you have to meet Augusta and work with her. You have to build at least a working relationship, at best an alliance with her. Sirius won't be able to get out of his duties when Augusta presses for him to acknowledge the alliance. Not even Sirius is idiotic enough to refuse to acknowledge Augusta if she tells him that your families are allies."

"But Sirius is already free - I can't build any alliances with Augusta now that Black has a lord again -"

"But that's it," Harry said, grinning. "Black doesn't have a lord yet. Like you said, Sirius refuses to be lord. As long as he refuses, his heir has still the right to build alliances. And since I'm now allied with Augusta, she won't take long to express an interest of alliance with you - especially if I am the one to send you to her in the first place. It's only logical, after all, to be allied with the allies of your allies."

For a moment, Reg remained silent. Then he sighed.

"And you decided to wait to do that until now - why?"

"Because I still needed a reason to start an alliance - and that reason was just provided by Tom a few days ago," Harry grinned at that.

"The Horcrux's search outside of Hogwarts!" Regulus said, surprise in his voice.

"The Horcrux's search outside of Hogwarts," Harry repeated content, and Regulus closed his eyes and groaned.

Moody sat down silently. All around him the rest of the Order of the Phoenix was talking among themselves while they waited for their leader to arrive.

The only one who wasn't even interested in conversation was Alastor Moody.

He was thinking.

In his mind the words of Harry Potter - no, Harryjames Potter - repeated all over again.

Albus Dumbledore could have stopped Grindelwald before the man even would have truly started - by simply opening his mouth.

Albus Dumbledore could have stopped Voldemort before he even turned dark if he just had decided to act instead of watching.

But those weren't the worst parts.

"He calls you his right hand man, one of his closest friends," Harryjames had said. "And yet, you were locked into your own trunk without him even noticing the difference for a whole year."

When Moody had been freed, he had originally never blamed Albus Dumbledore. Now instead, this sureness had ceased to exist.

Albus had known him for over sixty years. They had worked together, travelled together - and yet Albus had noticed nothing strange over the last year?!

"Or he noticed it and decided to use it to his benefits, never even thinking about your predicament," a voice that sounded suspiciously like Harryjames' whispered in his head. "He's manipulative. You know that. You've adored that in the past. Do you truly think that he wouldn't have used the opportunity if it had presented itself to him?"

Moody figured that the most horrible part of those thoughts wasn't that Albus was a manipulative bastard - Moody had suspected that for years. No, the most horrible part was that Moody finally knew that Albus Dumbledore would do everything to reach his ultimate goal - and if it meant to damn a fifteen-year-old boy and his right hand man, so be it.

Moody wasn't sure if he could accept that.

In that moment, Albus entered and Moody forced his thoughts to return to the present. It was time to talk about guard-duties and possible plans of the dark lord.

"I wonder why we have never included Harryjames Potter into these meetings," Moody mused. "They are about him, after all. Shouldn't he at least know about the danger he's in and what we do to stop it from reaching him?"

But maybe those thoughts were just fueled by the desperate need for another Slytherin - Snape definitely didn't count in Moody's eyes - in this ocean of Gryffindors the Order consisted of.

Tom Riddle, by the Wizarding World mostly known as 'Lord Voldemort', was currently in a bad mood. The reason was his new ally, Anastasius Sanguini, Head of Cruoris Coven of the vampires.

"So, that's what you're doing all day long? Sitting around and waiting for nothing?" The vampire said with interest in his voice before looking around the ball room they were currently inhabiting. The room was empty except of them and two other Death Eaters. Even Lucius Malfoy, the Head of the family whose manor they were currently using, had found a way to be anywhere but at the Dark Lord's side. Not that other Death Eaters could fault him for that. Their Lord had been in a fool mood since the raid on Azkaban and the refusal of the Dementors to join their alliance.

Since then, Tom Riddle had used his days to search ancient tomes for the odd occurrence he had witnessed in Azkaban. He had long since rebutted that the appearance had anything to do with his nemesis Potter - after all, every Death Eater with a child at Hogwarts could affirm that the boy was firstly, still at Hogwarts, and secondly, very much alive - and had since then tried to find out what had scared away one of his best possible allies in this coming war.

Until now, he hadn't found an answer to that at all…

"Isn't it a bit… dreary… to sit here all day watching an empty room?" the vampire asked in that moment. His voice ripped Tom Riddle out of his musing and the dark lord looked up irritated. The vampire's face wasn't even an inch away from his own face, studying him closely.

Voldemort snarled, whipped out his wand and aimed it at his opponent.

" Crucio!"

The spell flew through the room, hitting one of his two Death Eaters instead of the vampire he had been aiming at. The vampire himself had sidestepped the curse without even breaking a sweat.

Now, he was watching the Death Eater who had been hit writhing on the floor in agony.

Then he turned back to look at the dark lord.

"Don't you think that it's a bit counterproductive to torture your allies without a reason? It might make it a little bit harder to gather new ones if your treatment of your current ones comes out into the open," the vampire commented, his eyes still glued in fascination on the twitching form of the Death Eater.

The other Death Eater looked at the one on the floor and then fled the room.

Voldemort instead roared with agitations after listening to the vampire's comment.

"No need to go berserk on me," the vampire said, turning his eyes back towards the dark lord. "I was just saying…"

Voldemort took aim at the vampire again.

" Crucio!"

This time, he hit the candelabra.

The vampire's gaze followed the spell and both, dark lord and vampire, watched the candelabra first swinging dangerously before crashing to the floor.

"I'm also not too sure if your allies take it too kindly if you are that careless with their property," Anastasius commented dryly.

The dark lord turned his furious red eyes towards the loud mouthed vampire. His wand again took aim.

The vampire watched it warily.

"You sure you want to do another spell?" he asked. "What if you bring down the manor around us this time around? You don't seem too good at aiming, after all…"

The furious roar this time around could be heard all over the manor and its grounds.

Lucius Malfoy shivered in his study. Since that damn vampire had joined their ranks, the dark lord had been even more often in a dark mood.

Sometimes, Lucius dearly regretted the day Anastasius Sanguini had joined the Death Eaters. Sometimes Lucius regretted that he himself had joined. And sometimes he regretted dearly that he had offered his home to house the dark lord…

In this moment, another crash could be heard from the hall.

"I told you, your aim is off," the vampire could be heard. "Or did you actually want to hit your Death Eater so that he crashes into the antique crockery? I doubt that neither your host nor your target will be happy with the outcome you had here…"

Yes, there were definitely days that made Lucius regret every decision he had ever made concerning the dark lord. And today was one of these days.

"Luckily, it's one of the last ones," Lucius thought. He didn't want to replace his whole manor - and if Anastasius Sanguini wouldn't stop to irk the dark lord soon, it was more than likely that that was the final outcome for whoever would be unfortunate to house those two in the future…

Harry was walking down to dinner when he saw the fifth year Slytherins coming from the dungeons.

"Perfect," he said to himself, before wandering over to them to intercept before they reached the Great Hall. He had not been planning the whole thing until now, but he guessed that he could get started on it today without any problems. And if Hermione complained - well, it had been her who had asked him to do it in the first place. She couldn't fault him for actually taking his new task seriously, could she?

Harry guessed she couldn't, so he was safe. With that thought he pulled out his wand and wrote some runes into the air. A second later they flashed golden and vanished. That took Harry as his cue to approach the fifth year Slytherins.

"I know this is not the usual way for Gryffindors to act," Harry started, looking at the Slytherins in front of him. "But I also know that you are also suffering under the teaching methods of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. So I will ask you anyway."

"Ask us what?" Malfoy asked. It was clear that the blond heir was still the spokesman of the fifth year Slytherins like he had been since first year.

"I'm here to ask you to join the defence association me and my friends are forming. It could be beneficial for you as well, considering that you like us have to pass OWL's at the end of the year," Harry answered.

Malfoy sneered at that.

"And why would we need to join your… defence association?" he asked unimpressed.

"Because, if you like it or not, you will have trouble passing your defence OWL if you don't get some training in actually casting the spells you should be learning this year. The defence association could help you with that, if you join."

"And why should we even think about joining something a Gryffindor has initiated?" Another Slytherin, Theodore Nott asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry just shrugged.

"Because I offered and you are Slytherins, meaning you take an advantage if you get it," he answered. "I'm currently the best in defence of year five. It would be… totally un-Slytherin to not even think about my offer."

At that, Theodore Nott and some others snorted.

"You truly think that you can keep it from Umbridge?" Blaise Zabini asked. "You truly think that it will stay a secret if you ask people in the corridors of Hogwarts willy-nilly?"

"Why not?" Harry answered grinning. "It's not as if I haven't been able to keep things from the teachers before while still talking out here in the open…"

Theodore Nott just shook his head at that.

"Recklessness," he said and others nodded at that.

That was the moment, Malfoy decided to re-enter the conversation.

"And how will you stop us from talking about your plans to Umbridge, now that we know of them?" He said. Harry just smiled.

"I don't need to stop you," he answered. "You were already stopped before I even talked to you."

Malfoy snorted.

"Sure thing, Potter," he said disbelieving.

"So you don't believe me," Harry said, then he shrugged. "Well, we'll see who's right in the end. Just think about my offer, will you?"

And with that he turned away from them with the intention to enter the Great Hall. It was Malfoy's voice that stopped him in his tracks.

"Whatever you try to do, Potter, it will not succeed. Just leave it be - when you don't you might regret it!" He hissed.

Harry just raised an eyebrow at the boy in front of him.

"Regret what?" He asked and turned back towards the Slytherins.

"Regret your try to turn us against the Dark Lord!" Malfoy answered. "And don't you dare to tell me that that wasn't your intention from the start!"

Harry just shrugged.

"Not truly," he said and Malfoy snorted. So Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at the boy in front of him.

"Don't tell me that you truly want to follow 'The Dark Lord'?" He asked incredulously.

"Of course!" Malfoy hissed. "Why shouldn't we?" The other Slytherins meanwhile looked at each other with hesitation in their eyes.

Harry acted as if he hadn't seen it and focused on Malfoy instead. It seemed like it was time for a little teaching…

"Then you want to be a bigoted idiot who is licking the boots of a half-blood?" He asked the boy in front of him. "And I thought you are a Slytherin."

"I am a Slytherin!" Malfoy hissed and Harry saw the other Slytherins from higher years beside him turning to them. They clearly had started to listen. Harry smirked inwardly. Perfect.

"You are?" He asked, seemingly astonished. "And I thought a true Slytherin is clever, cunning and ambitious. What is ambitious about being a boot-licker? What is clever about following a mere mud-blood blindly in your demise? What is cunning about letting you be branded like a cow or a slave? No! You don't sound like a Slytherin to me. You sound like a coward."

As an answer Malfoy hurled a borderline dark spell at him. Harry just smirked and reached with his bare hand for the magic. The spell changed its direction and started to dance together with Harry's fingers. Then Harry took the light into his hand and it vanished without a trace.

The Slytherins around him stared at him.

"A Slytherin knows to use every situation for his advantage. He knows when to show his strength and when to hide it," Harry said softly. "He would never start a fight against someone he does know nothing about." And with that Harry rose his other hand. Golden runes glowed on the floor and in the next second Malfoy was imprisoned in a golden cage out of light.

The Malfoy-heir stared at him, the fear clearly visible in his eyes. Harry just looked at him for a moment, then he banished the light-cage and left the boy unharmed.

"What…?" Malfoy asked clearly baffled about Harry's actions.

"A Slytherin knows when it's time to humiliate his opponent and when it's time to leave it be," Harry said. "You are clearly a strong wizard, Draco Malfoy. As a Slytherin, I know that having you on my side would be more advantageous then having you as an opponent. Think about it. I even might teach you some tricks like those I showed you today."

And with that Harry turned and left the Slytherins stand where they were.

Malfoy stared after him.

"You are no Slytherin!" He finally cried just before Harry could vanish around a corner. Harry stopped and turned. Then he smirked.

"But I am," he answered smiling widely. "I would have been sorted into Slytherin if I hadn't begged the Sorting Hat not to."

"But… why?" another Slytherin asked with huge eyes.

Harry smirked.

"Because no one would ever suspect to find a snake in a lion's fur," and with that he vanished around the corner.

Only time would tell if his little stunt had changed his standing in the eyes of Slytherin. Harry was quite sure that it had. The Slytherins would come to his defence association - if it was for his words or the display of his power, Harry would see. The most important thing was their involvement, and that was something that he had ensured today…

Cornelius Fudge took a deep breath, then he opened the meeting of the Wizengamot. He had asked for the meeting just a few days ago and unlike normally, he had insisted on the Wizarding Wireless to join them.

"Today, I'm here to speak to you about a grievous matter," he said. "Unfortunately I've become aware of an approaching threat to our ways of life. A threat which will destroy everything we love if we don't stop it now when it's still easily stoppable!"

He could see that he now had the attention of every member of the Wizengamot as well as the attention of the reporter of the Wizarding Wireless. Fudge was quite sure that he had the attention of the rest of the Wizarding World as well.

"I am talking about a liar and a disturbance for our peaceful ways of life!" he continued. "I'm talking about someone who's trying to bring the public to go against their government! If we don't do something soon, this man, this disturber of peace, will bring down our society with all the lies he's sprouting!"

This time he could see the concerned gazes that were exchanged between the witches and wizards of the Wizengamot.

"I am talking about someone who is able to deceive the common man with sweet sounding words and false promises! A man who doesn't mind to use even the most reputable business to reach his shady goals," he continued while basking in the attention. "I am talking about Oliver Twist."