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The stars shone down on them from the enchanted ceiling in the grand ballroom of the manor. The night sky was pleasantly dark and inviting, the night being the preferred habitat of most of those he'd invited tonight.
The cost had been exorbitant to replicate the Hogwarts great hall enchantments, well worth it in the end, galleons were only a useful tool - the impression of power and wealth so much more useful on weak minded fools.
The hall was resplendent in enchanted ice crawling up the walls, bathing them all in a muted blue light. The Faerie wrought tables and chairs changing color and shape to match the wintry decorations of the night on their own. The ballroom floor - one large iridescent snowflake, drawing looks from the guests. Narcissa had outdone herself, he had felt in a wintry mood lately.
He tapped his flute of deepwine idly with one ring adorned finger. Letting his eyes roam around the room. The classical music suffused the air, mournfully played by the ghostly nuns of the Glastonbury Abbey - hideously expensive, well worth the cost however. Not that he had any appreciation for their musical skills, although the wizarding world upper crust consensus was that they were exquisite - as believed by his wife, and he rarely argued with Narcissa. His appreciation came from the calculating look from some of his guests when they realized he had managed to secure the most hard to get and expensive entertainment for their little soiree, on such short notice.
They book performances over seven years in advance currently. He had booked them a week ago.
Most of the guests had children off at Hogwarts, like he himself, having sent Draco off just a few days ago now. Also, most of them were likely Death Eaters, or affiliated. Not that he could say for sure… Their master had always demanded a certain paranoid level of compartmentalization. Lucius himself only knew for sure of Crabbe, Goyle, and Narcissa. It had helped many of their kind stay out of Azkaban in the end - proving their master right, even in his downfall. Of course they all knew the Lestranges were of their ilk with the fools being caught in such a foolish endeavor. He suspected many of those here tonight bore the mark, and even had some proof that implicated a few.
The Lestranges only knowing of each other and Barty Crouch Jr for sure, had helped them all. Especially once already convicted Death Eaters were forced under Veritaserum after the war - an attempt to root them all out. Something which failed spectacularly thanks to their Master's foresight.
Crabbe and Goyle, having been allies with him for years, never got caught, and he'd extracted magical oaths from them either way that would trump Veritaserum. He had that process vigorously tested. Likewise, he and Narcissa had exchanged magical vows making it impossible for them to implicate each other.
Speaking of Goyle, Lucius raised an eyebrow as the hulking man suddenly appeared at his side. People always underestimated the man. He'd gone through Hogwarts barely passing his classes, into a ministry job in the archives fit for a low level peon, only his pure blood allowing him a position at all. Yet, Lucius knew the man was fiendishly clever, an expert in the Imperius curse, and so good at sinking into the background that he knew more about the Ministry than anyone else in that building. It was doubtful many of their kind still resided as employees of the Ministry, making him even more valuable. There was a reason why Lucius had tied their families together as allies after all, even as their enemies and allies alike looked at Crabbe and Goyle as bodyguards or muscle, even the Ministry. Plebeians.
"Karkaroff did not show up." Goyle muttered quietly, lips not moving. To all and sundry 'the bodyguard' was simply standing next to Lucius, waiting at his pleasure.
Lucius did not answer immediately, beyond a downward tilt of his head. It was a pity Igor denied his invitation. The Durmstrang headmaster could have been a useful contact - despite rumors that claimed he was a Death Eater that had talked. The Ministry was unfortunately competent enough to keep all the Death Eater trials sealed beyond even his ability to penetrate. Lucius would have liked to have the man here, to take the pulse on him, feel him out. Perhaps the man knew this - and avoided the invitation.
Say what you will of the likes of Barty Crouch and Amelia Bones. But incompetent was never a word used. If they had enough evidence to squeeze Karkaroff, Lucius had a feeling the man might have indeed talked. It certainly had been odd that he had been in custody by the end - and walked away into a position at Durmstrang.
"Cowardice or guilt." Lucius said out loud coldly. Tapping his gilded cane briefly on the marble flooring. "Spread it discreetly."
Goyle disappeared, only giving a brief nod to show that he understood. By the end of the night, everyone here will wonder what Karkaroff's loyalties were. And the man would realize that an invitation to Malfoy Manor was not something to snub. No doubt he'd be able to wring concessions out of the slippery headmaster for the chance to weasel his way back in - once the rumors started.
Durmstrang, like Hogwarts. Held many secrets useful to those not afraid to use them. Lucius feared very few things, and his hands were ideal for wielding both power and secrets.
"Husband, the last of the guests have arrived and begun to mingle." The beautiful and enchanting lady of the house arrived at his side, and as always took his breath away - as she appeared like a stunning vision before him. He lifted her gloved hand to his lips, earning a coy smile from his wife.
Narcissa looked resplendent in a liquid silver dress, hugging her curves perfectly, the illusion of flowing liquid drawing eyes to her beauty, as befitting Lady Malfoy. Her hair set as a complicated crown, white sapphires adorning the small silver tiara keeping her hair together.
"My lady, as always you are a vision not even the Faerie could dream of." He stepped
forward and delivered a chaste kiss, feeling her lips curve into a smile. A pity they weren't alone.
A dainty hand on his chest reminded him of this fact. Narcissa's eyes were filled with amusement, and a hint of promise. "Husband, as always you have a silver tongue, perhaps put it to use on our guests, before the black widow snags another husband." Narcissa's eyes slide to the dance floor.
Lucius followed her gaze, not surprised to find Isabella Zabini. The olive skinned, green eyed, sultry beauty had just recently lost her sixth husband. She was considered one of the most beautiful women in the world, and consequently did not lack in admirers, even with the unfortunate happenings around her love life. Lucius personally thought she couldn't compare to his darling Narcissa. And said as much, earning himself a heated look that promised much.
Narcissa moved to mingle, with one last lingering kiss to his cheek, as Lucius pondered Isabella Zabini. He suspected she was one of the few female Death Eaters. The woman was too competent to not be. Even with Lucius' resources and network he could never prove it conclusively. More so, even with six husband's dying under suspicious circumstances - leaving their fortunes to her. He could not find any evidence of her hand in their deaths, or of her hiring anyone. It spoke of skill, in subterfuge and in magic. Lucius was not used to his information gathering skills digging up nothing.
He moved, now. Seeing Narcissa on the way to intercept Zabini, his wife was able to read his mind as usual. He himself moved to grab the arm of her last dance partner. Arcturus Rookwood, the brother of Augustus Rookwood, their comrade in Azkaban.
"I would not suggest a dalliance with the black widow, Arcturus." He spoke dryly, as he moved the man towards a group of their peers.
Arcturus grinned, "Lucius, I wouldn't have married her, a quick taste however…" He allowed himself to be directed without issue. The man was nowhere near as competent as Augustus, which suited Lucius just fine. It made him more controllable.
"And what would Anastasia say?" Lucius wondered out loud, an unimpressed look on his face. The sanctity of a wizards and witch marriage was still a tradition no proper pureblood should toss aside. Anastasia Rookwood nee Burke was a scarily competent witch, one to tread lightly around.
Arcturus laughed, ugly and short, like the man himself. Lucius held back a sneer, he'd never much liked the Rookwoods, but with the competent Augustus' arrest, he was almost certain the rest of them were Death Eaters as well. So luring them into his circle was unfortunately important.
Arcturus leered at him, "Anastasia is the one who asked me to dance with her, Lucius."
Lucius shook his head briefly, some of the depravity of his comrades surprised him still. Personally he'd never do something so crass when he already held the jewel of the wizarding world in his arms. They arrive not too far from the ghostly orchestra, by the tables laden with food. A group consisting of Yaxley, Rosier, Nott the elder, Crabbe and Selwyn chatting together.
Lucius greeted his honored guests, his eyes briefly meeting Crabbe's, Legilimency used with the lightest touch to tell the man where he wanted this discussion to go.
"Arcturus, you looking to offload your fortune on Zabini, eh?" Corban Yaxley chuckled, before sending a nod to Lucius, "Seems Lucius saved you some money, and a neck." He jeered.
"I wouldn't have married her, Corban, just a taste is all." Arcturus defended himself.
"That is a poisoned chalice you'd be drinking from, youth today, no sense!" Thaddeus Nott scoffed with disgust. Being 132, Nott saw them all as children, not that he dared say such a thing to Lucius. In their Masters absence, Lucius had quickly made himself indispensable to any of their dark minded families.
Should their master return as he promised he could, he would find Lucius had made allies and connections for the cause. And should he… Not.
Then Lucius had the world in the palm of his hands.
"I'd keep a bezoar in my pocket if I just got to drink from that chalice." Arcturus stuck to his position with a positively filthy leer.
"Isn't she on the board at Hogwarts now?" Crabbe asked dully, moving the conversation along.
"Yes, I suppose she is, due to her last paramour being on the board, before that unfortunate apparation accident." Cassius Selwyn drawled sarcastically.
"That makes what now? Three of ours, three of Dumbledore's and two neutrals?" Elias Rosier asked shrewdly, cold luminous eyes on Lucius.
The Rosier's had apparently always been an exceptionally loyal family to their lord, apparently - as he only knew of them for certainty after they were put down, the Rosier's sacrificed several members to the cause. And now the rest, they were all his. Lucius would bet quite a lot that every single one of those that were of age by the end of the war, were marked. Too bad none of them compared to Evan Rosier, damn Moody for that!
Lucius smiled thinly, responding to Elias, "Four of ours soon, actually."
"One of the neutrals flipped?" Corban enquired, a surprised expression on his face. The Hogwarts board has been deadlocked between the dark and light for decades. Most magicals don't remember their relevance anymore as they have been completely ineffectual in achieving anything for most of Dumbledore's reign, due to said deadlocking.
"One of them is pondering seriously about giving me their seat on the board." Lucius said with a degree of smugness. He was owed that at least. For over a decade he had slowly worked the man and his family over. Subtle potions to lessen their faculties, inserted neighbors and co-workers to their family to slowly talk them around to his viewpoint, even an imperiused granddaughter to plead his case as for the good of Hogwarts. Not that he had done any of those things himself of course. No, there were no traces of his involvement.
He hadn't even used his own money.
Sadly one could not just simply Imperius or curse a prolific wizard like a Hogwarts board member to step down. Someone like Rufus Scrimgeour would eat you for lunch if you made it that easy for him.
So many of their less connected allies had been destroyed by the Ministry in their zeal to clean up after the war. Bagnold certainly had earned that withering curse in the end. Most of the Death Eaters he suspected of being such, had avoided gaol. Yet many of their tertiary allies and suppliers were now completely eradicated.
"If Lucius is even mentioning it, it's because it's a certainty already." Thaddeus scoffed, a calculating look on his wrinkled face. "So… A majority… No one's had that since I was a lad." He mused out loud.
And it was a slim majority, as the neutrals generally could be counted on to wait for bribes before making a decision, and therefore abhorred any decision that benefited one side too much. With a 4-3 dark majority. Lucius now only needed one of them to abstain to win a vote. Hardly a hard thing to achieve. A tie would default to the chairmanship's decision, and the position he would be taking over, of course, is the one held by the chairman. A simple vote to let him retain the chair would be simple to arrange, even if he would have to bribe the neutrals for it. They'd barter a large fee for it, of course. Then after that, they'd be his for the picking. Slowly of course, but eventually. All his.
"So Dumbledore can finally get the sack?" Corban asked, a cruel look passing over him.
"Don't be stupid, boy! Like a simple one seat majority can sack the sanctimonious poof!" Thaddeus barked out, a gnarled hand reached out and poked Corban Yaxley in the shoulder, the man sending a deadly glare back, not amused at the moniker, nor the poke.
To sack the headmaster needed a unanimous vote. Which Lucius would never get. So that was out of the question. They would have to work around Dumbledore. While he worked to work around them. It would be an amusing game. Politics, the game that never ends. Lucius admitted he had grown fond of the games in these past years.
"Binns." Crabbe grunted out. Stopping the squabble that was brewing and focusing everyone back on the conversation. So overlooked, so useful. Lucius tilts his head slightly, catching the amused look on Crabbe's face before he turns dull again.
Lucius smoothly took over, "With a majority we can certainly afford to make some slight changes, especially with the recent uptick in public support."
"You're talking about the articles started because of that mudblood." Cassius pointed out looking disgusted.
Lucius personally didn't care one whit about someone else's blood status over whether or not they were a useful tool - for him. Granted, he was of course of superior blood, but it was his superior mind that mattered. Those of lesser blood usually made for superior tools, as they could so easily be discarded after. "The articles have started to sway the Wizengamot towards reintroducing wizarding traditions by law." He laid out with a reproaching look at Cassius.
Cassius sneered, "You can't honestly be speaking up for that filthy mudblood, Lucius!"
"Cassius. That language is beneath someone of our stature." Lucius replied coldly, everyone watching the two of them raptly. "And I would speak up for a muggle, if the damn beast could help us push through legislation I would have called impossible but a few months ago."
"He's right Cassius, could you have imagined someone like Longbottom or Bones, agreeing with our position a month ago?" Elias chuckled darkly. "I hardly believe it now. And I've had discussions with the two bints over the language of the Magical Tradition Preservation Act."
"We must strike while the iron is hot. It's for this reason I convinced you to have all of our children treat the Greenwood child with cool respect, for now. Showcasing to the light side and neutrals that we could be accommodating with muggleborns - if they were the proper sort." Lucius reminded them. The magical world rarely moved quickly on anything, let alone legislation. Yet for once, all sides of the Wizengamot found themselves in agreement on the basic gist of things. Only the negotiation of particulars remaining.
Even Dumbledore wasn't interfering. Lucius was curious as to what the wily politician could possibly gain by allowing this, but he had not found a logical reason yet.
"If you want me to kiss mudbloods…" Cassius muttered mulishly, trailing off at the looks the others were giving him.
"Don't curse them, and act polite in public. It costs us nothing right now, Cassius." Lucius said coldly. Willing the fool to understand. "If we manage to pass this legislation as well as affect change at Hogwarts…"
"We'll finally have the foot in the door." Elias said, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "Once ancient magical ceremonies and history are back on the table, we can open up the question of rituals and family magic, maybe loosen some of the restrictions on family artifacts pushed through by Crouch and Dumbledore at the end of the war."
"And all set in motion by a stupid mudblood and a gutter reporter, neither having any idea what they're really talking about and managing to get the public on-board - something we've failed at doing for decades." Thaddeus shook his head, amazement warring with disgust.
"You see now, why it is important we act as one in this matter." Lucius intoned seriously, "Any of us, anyone at all, dragging the public or the Wizengamot's mind back to more troubled times - could lose us the whole gambit."
Eyes turned to Cassius who looked away in annoyance, but allowed a short nod, to show he understood. Lucius doubted that, but he had his ways to ensure compliance. He would have to send Narcissa to talk to the man's wife and sister. He'd end up complying. Witches could be absolutely horrendously deadly.
He'd duel Moody, Scrimgeour and Bones over Narcissa, Bellatrix and Anastasia any day. The worst the likes of Scrimgeour would do was kill him or feed him to a dementor. In the privacy of his mind he could readily admit that soul sucking demons had nothing on his wife in a rage.
"Let's talk specifics, Lucius. What's your plan?" Thaddeus queried.
Lucius smiled, all eyes in their circle on him, he knew Narcissa was already working the room, as was Goyle in his own way. This get together was certainly coming into his favor.
"Well, we'll start with Hogwarts…"
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A wizard paced at the top of a hill in Wiltshire, overlooking the Malfoy Manor estate, uncaring of the wind ruffling his mane of tawny hair, his yellowish eyes focused behind his wire-rimmed spectacles. He moved with a slight limp, it was his reminder from time past, to never take anything for granted, and to practice constant vigilance.
He huffed, annoyed at himself. Last thing he needed was Alastor thinking he's been infected with his level of paranoia. Half the Auror corps fired spells first and asked questions later because of him. Then again that half is also still alive. Mostly.
Still… No need to tell the man that.
"The cream of wizard society… Rotten to the core." Kingsley Shacklebolt muttered quietly from behind him. There was really no need to keep their voices down. The hill was so laden with protections and charms, You-know-who himself would have needed ten minutes to break through. Besides, Lucius Malfoy no doubt knew they were there anyway. Slippery bugger. Not a single piece of evidence to ever tie him to the Death Eaters. The familial connection between Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius' wife Narcissa was the only connection. Hardly evidence that.
Yet, Rufus knew. He'd attended enough balls with the bastard, enough ministry events. There's not that much difference between dancing and a duel when it comes to body cues. Rufus knew he'd exchanged spells with the bastard hiding behind a mask, and here he was partying it up. Not once since the war ended had the ponce had to answer even a question about it.
Rufus Scrimgeour, Head Auror and veteran of the last war, survivor of two duels with you-know-who himself, turned around and surveyed his small team.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, the tall black man and team lead, was watching through the omnioculars. Noting down the name of every guest stupid enough to leave through the gate and apparate instead of leaving by floo. Rufus thought the man would make a damn good Head Auror one day. If he got his head out of Dumbledore's ass first. Kingsley was one of the finest duelists he's ever met, absolutely savage with a wand, but Kingsley would need to better his security and find more secure messaging spells if he wanted Rufus to not find out he was reporting to Dumbledore after he reported to Rufus.
Williamson, Dawlish and Jones were all decent Aurors. Brought along in case any spellfire was to be exchanged tonight, and to monitor the long range surveillance spells for any fluctuations in the wards suggesting dark artifacts were being moved. Or that was the official reason that Rufus wrote down for Bones anyway. Usually a two man team was enough for long distance surveillance, there wasn't much risk anymore. Rufus liked to keep an eye on anything Malfoy threw together on principle, however.
Mostly he put together the team because he wanted to track out all the ways these fools messed up. Williamson reported to Malfoy, Dawlish was so far up Fudge's ass, Rufus wasn't sure the man was even being paid to betray his oath. And Jones of course was another fool witch suckling off Dumbledore, barking up the wrong tree there, Jones. He thought amused.
It was an unfortunate reality. The Ministry had been mostly purged after the troubles. Yet some remained with divided loyalties. Rufus preferred to keep an eye on them and track their messages, learn all their little hideouts and drop boxes. And so when things kicked off again, he'd know every little hidey hole.
It was easy enough to tack them onto the mission, it was a routine mission really, one the Ministry Aurors performed quite often. The surveillance of suspected Death Eaters.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was not going to forget about any of these bastards, even if they hadn't an iota of proof to collar them with. One day they'd slip up. And Rufus would be right there, wand ready. Laws had changed, Bagnold, bless the old bat - had pushed them through before she died, and let that buffoon Fudge into the position. Somehow. Something still didn't smell right about all that to Rufus.
Rufus smirked grimly as he watched the Yaxleys leave from the gate, his glasses were charmed enough that he didn't need any omnioculars.
This time around, Veritaserum was legal for capital crimes or for being caught using an unforgivable. No blue bloods would be able to slink away because they wore masks this time. If they've been caught in the act, Rufus gets to ferret out their deepest little secrets. Oh, how he wished he could start right now with bloody Lucius Malfoy!
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"Anyone new?" Rufus finally asked. Tearing his eyes away from the admittedly beautiful estate.
"Rumors from the usual informants claimed Zabini would be attending. If she did, she didn't come by the gate." Kinglsey responded in his calm baritone.
Rufus scoffed, turning back to the estate, one hand behind his back. The other of course, always ready to snap out his wand. "The black widow is clever, she'd never join a party like this and be caught by a surveillance team." That didn't mean she hadn't of course. And either way Williamson would report that they were watching for that connection. Keep Malfoy on his toes.
"The only names I've written down so far are Travers, Yaxley, Flint, and Carrow."
"The dumb muscle, Lucius no doubt sent them out this way as a wave to us. Cheeky bastard." Rufus muttered, annoyed, but not surprised. Lucius Malfoy wouldn't slip up easily.
"I checked with Crouch at international before we left, no international floo tickets had been purchased or scheduled for tonight. Igor Karkaroff is unlikely to have been in attendance." Kinglsey continued to report calmly. Eyes never taken off the omnioculars.
Rufus snapped his fingers, pointing at Kingsley, "You three pay attention! That's the initiative I like to see in my people!" He barked to the three lemmings he'd brought along. "Karkaroff, eh? I wouldn't have thought that cold snake would have dared to miss out on something like this. If nothing else to avoid the rumors…"
"Perhaps he was otherwise engaged." Williamson tried to interject himself in the conversation.
"Bah, don't speak of things you have no idea about Williamson. Karkaroff is an expert in saving his skin. If he missed out on this kind of soiree…" As always Rufus felt an itch in his leg, Karkaroff having been the one to curse it back in the day. He'd admitted that much under interrogation. Unfortunately back then being a Death Eater alone wasn't punishable with Azkaban or worse. Those laws were pushed through after the fall. And Karkaroff had found a way to slip the noose before then.
Rufus began pacing again, fingers running down his greying beard. Igor is a consummate survivor, why would he avoid this party, with the rumors Bones had spread about him spilling the beans after he walked, he'll look suspicious avoiding this meeting. What are you up to, Igor?
"Shacklebolt, link up with international again when we get back, see if you can find out anything about Karkaroff's movements lately. And especially where he was tonight." Rufus ordered sharply. His gut told him this was important. He always trusted his gut. He had a feeling the bastard wasn't just cozying it up in Durmstrang tonight.
He fingered his wand as he stared down at Malfoy Manor. One day, Lucius. One day I'll pay you back! With interest!
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I walk into the Undercroft almost giddy. This is something that I've seen in a game, walked through, and now… I'm actually here in person. Although technically most of Hogwarts fell under that category.
My first impression is… It looks… Different.
The Undercroft in Hogwarts Legacy had a bit of a storage room kind of feel, barrels and cages and items all over. This is some 100 years or so later however. Obviously someone has prettied it up a bit during that time.
The low ceiling and multitude of pillars still gives it that somewhat cellar-like or storeroom feeling. Torches on the pillars and on the walls had lit up in green flames as I entered. The very back of the Undercroft had been renovated to include a potions lab. Multitude of different specialist cauldrons stood on a shelf, several cabinets and shelves displaying ingredients, the preservation charms still good on them.
A small library is built around the central pillars, facing the circle of carpet and comfy looking armchairs in the middle - Slytherin green, what else. The bookshelves are filled with books, the slight dangerous feeling I get in the air as I approach, warns me they're likely warded.
There's a small area up against the wall holding a large desk and a few empty bookshelves, obviously meant to be a writing area or office space, never finished.
My eyes widen, as there, on the wall. Where once the empty canvas of Isidora Morganach had hung on the wall - the ancient magic using witch that had gone mad trying to remove all pain from the world. There on the wall were three magical paintings!
The one in the middle with a bronze border and a view of a field of flowers was empty, the name at the bottom of the painting completely illegible. The other two, however…
"This is quite extraordinary. I can't remember the last time we had someone in here." Sebastian Sallow says, his painting looking not much older then he was in the game, a young death then, not overly surprising considering his dark magic obsession - that he chased to cure his twin sister. His name is clearly visible on his emerald and silver bordered painting, the background appearing to be of a clearing in the forbidden forest. A cave just visible in the distance.
"There shouldn't be, that's the point of a Fidelius charm, Sebastian. How did you manage to get in? I wonder?" Ominis Gaunt drawls, his blind visage still drawn to my face as he 'looks' over my way. Ominis at least looks to have survived to his thirties, a neat beard on his face. His name likewise bordered in emerald and silver. Such Slytherins. I would guess the Slytherin common room for what appears to be his background on the canvas.
"I know of the events of a hundred years ago, and because of that I know of the secret, so the Fidelius allowed me in." I say, trying to reign in my excitement.
"What's the event a hundred years ago? And really, a Hufflepuff?" Sebastian says wrinkling his nose slightly.
I blink, "That's… That's the events when you were alive and at Hogwarts…" Not much point arguing with a Slytherin about the benefits of Hufflepuff house.
"We don't have another painting, so time loses meaning after a while as we can't leave here, I'm ignoring, for now, your ridiculous lie." Ominis says quietly. "Sebastian, how long has it been since we had someone visit us here?"
"Ominis I already said I couldn't remember that, didn't I?" Sebastian grouches, running a hand through his hair. "I guess… 1970's sometime. What year is it now?" He looks towards me.
"1991." I supply quietly. A painting isn't really alive. But still whatever they are, they are aware. And they have been alone here for the past twenty years, and Merlin knows how long before that.
"Oh, it's been some time since then." Sebastian says, peering at me curiously, "I know Ominis is dying to know who told you the secret, so I'll ask for him. Well, how did you get in, little Hufflepuff?"
I can hardly tell them the truth. That I played a videogame where their lives were nothing but entertainment. That Sebastian's sister was cursed, ruining their lives, based on making some quests more interesting.
My hesitation has Ominis turning his head with a scoff. "Don't bother speaking, I already know it's going to be a lie."
"It's a secret I'm sworn to not tell." I lie anyway.
"Ominis, it's been what, twenty years? It's probably our last secret keeper passing the secret on anyway." Sebastian says with a careless shrug.
"That careless attitude is why you're stuck as a teenager forever, Sebastian." Ominis hisses out. Thankfully in English, although I know he has the parseltongue abilities.
If the Fidelius was still up, and I doubted some painting, magical or not, could hold it by themselves. Then whoever was in here in the 1970's was still alive. Or the secret would have failed. I doubt they'd passed on the secret, the room looked dust covered and unused.
"I'm just saying, we haven't had someone in the Undercroft for awhile, no point in driving them away, Ominis." Sebastian wheedles, "Aren't you growing bored?"
"Of you, certainly." Ominis replies tartly. "I shan't trust anyone who just walks in and lies about how they know our secret."
"I guess that means no luck in getting me access to those books?" I say, feeling slightly irritated, waving towards the warded central bookshelves and reading space.
"I don't mind you having access." Sebastian says winking at me, "I'm dying for some new conversation, even if it's a Hufflepuff."
Ominis scoffs and turns his back on us. I sigh and face Sebastian expectedly, "So how do I get access?"
Sebastian looks sheepish, "Ah, parseltongue protected password I'm afraid. Only Ominis can undo it."
A quiet, "Hah!" Emanates from the other painting.
Well… I can work on him, I guess. I have years. Eventually I'll grow on him. I turn my focus on the middle painting. "Who is that supposed to be, missing from there?" I ask.
Both paintings freeze up, a low hissing sound can be heard from Ominis painting, but the man himself is unmoving, still facing away. The hissing sounds like it's saying something. Oh, come on! Another parseltongue password!?
After a minute both paintings resume movement's with no idea anything has happened at all.
Another attempt from me to ask them results in the same thing happening.
Super, so I either have to bring Voldemort in here. Or trust this whole thing to Harry Potter!
Well… At least I have a good secret study room to deposit my books in and chill out and read. Also two older students, granted, as paintings. And from a hundred years ago - but spellcraft hasn't changed much in that time. Surely they knew some tricks they could teach. Well perhaps not Ominis yet, I'd have to earn his trust somehow.
Still, I've met with some success.
Things are looking up again.
I don't stay long in the Undercroft, not wanting to disappear for too long this early in, I don't want my friends asking too many questions yet. I haven't decided whether to let them in on the Undercroft or keep it to myself. I need a space just for me, to study and practice, and the Undercroft seems the perfect fit for that, I can even practice potions. And make my own emergency kit, which I admit is a tantalizing idea for when I actually trust my abilities to brew most of the potions and salves necessary.
I'm leaning towards finding another secret room for my study group. Too bad the Undercroft is the only one I remember for sure where it is. Other than the Chamber of Secrets and that's just… No
As I exit the Undercroft I'm dive bombed by a piece of parchment shaped into a paper airplane. I duck away and call out, "Accio" the magic animating it bleeding away as soon as it reaches my hand. Nifty magic, that, I wonder if it could track me through Hogwarts? It was waiting outside the Fidelius so it tracked me so far, or does it somehow use Hogwarts wards like the marauders map likely does, to pinpoint me. I need to start carrying around a notebook or something, so I can write down these things and actually research them when I get a chance.
I open the now folded regular parchment.
Wotcher!
I've got detention later, but if you got a mo' I'll be in the room your ass got beat in, fancy learning some new tricks? Ickle baby raven?
Plus I gotta talk to you about something.
It's Tonks.
I roll my eyes, like she needs to add her name if she is going to write a letter so quintessential Tonks.
Well… I'm literally less than five minutes away from the target practice room, might as well. If my friends ask where I've been I could just say blame Tonks. It seems to work just fine for Ophelia.
I walk over, wondering what spells she has in mind to teach me.
I walk into a warzone. Half the room is smoking, the dummies and various debris of the room either on fire or broken into pieces and scattered like taken apart by an explosion. Tonks grins at me when she sees me enter, a tired but pleased expression on her face, her soot covered face. She is drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, her hair plastered to her face in places, dark red color today.
She's obviously been at it for a while.
"I don't even want to know what those training dummies did to deserve this." I ask in a deadpan.
Tonks snorts, silently waving her wand over herself, water spraying out and washing most of the sweat and soot off. Another wave and she's all dry, still looking disheveled but not quite as much like she's gone hand to hand with the fireplace.
"Just needed to see how far I could push my spellcasting, set a marker for the rest of the year, you know?" Tonks says cheerfully, stretching, letting out a groan as something very audibly pops, making me wince.
"Sorry, I didn't get your note until now, pretty cool, how did you make it find me?"
"The prefects get a limited connection to the wards through their badge - helps them find students that are injured or in need, Ophelia let me borrow hers for a mo' and I used it to tie the charm to finding you specifically. Wasn't sure it was gonna work until you walked in." Tonks explains, running a hand through her hair, it turns its regular spiky pink as the hand moves through it.
"Huh, neat." I say, mind on this revelation. It was actually a pretty smart way of ensuring prefects could actually find and help students that get stuck on a moving staircase or fall and break a leg, or something of that sort. Especially if said students can't remember to call a house elf for assistance. Then again I know Hufflepuff went through all that in the introduction, did a house like Gryffindor even bother with an introduction? Somehow I doubted it.
"So the prefects can track me wherever I go?" I ask, dismayed, stuck on the most important part. Because if they could, then the professor's definitely could.
Tonks rolls her eyes, a knowing smirk on her face, "Keep your knickers on, firstie. I just said I didn't even know if what I was doing would work or not, didn't I? The prefects don't mess with their badges, they're too… Prefecty!"
"That's not a word." I say, but I feel a sense of relief. How can one sneak around and find hidden rooms and such if the prefects can track you through the wards the entire time.
"Sure it is, I just said it." Tonks says, not concerned with such petty concerns as the English language.
She plomps down on the ground, stuff still burning in the background, she waves me over, "Take a seat ickle claw."
Bemused, I walk over and sit down in front of her, wondering what this is about.
"I want to apologize, for sicking Ophelia on you, it should have just been you and me, I should have kept it contained. It was my issue to deal with, and you kind of got the brunt of several years of issues that me and Ophelia have had." Tonks says seriously.
I'm surprised at the apology, raising a questioning eyebrow, "For Ophelia, but not for the beatdown?" I clarify, somewhat confused on what the difference is. Tonks beating me or both, what did it matter?
Tonks grimaces slightly, "Ophelia has seen a lot of shit go down with me, and experienced some herself. I should have realized that she'd not be able to separate that baggage from you." She laughs mirthlessly, "To be honest, I didn't either in a way. You got to the tool used for us to work through years of issues on. You didn't deserve that. And I'm sorry.*
I squirm slightly, feeling uncomfortable, "So, if I'm understanding you correctly. You're sorry you beat me up for the wrong reasons? But not sorry you beat me up? Only that Ophelia shouldn't have been there?" I clarify again. Because I'm honestly confused where all this is coming from. I thought it was straightforward, just a fight, then the air was cleared between us. Why was it suddenly so complicated?
Tonks groans putting her face in her hands, "Merlin, this is so difficult, I hate apologies!" She removes her hands with a sigh, shaking her head, "I should have gone with you, just you and me, had a duel, beaten you up a bit, then we'd be all clear, okay?" She explains, "I shouldn't have involved Ophelia."
"Apology accepted, I guess." I say, accepting the honest apology. Even though I had accepted the beatdown and had enjoyed most of the duel too, until I was outmatched in the end. It had been a good test, to see even with the spells I'd learned already, how far behind I was to a seventh year.
"You sure? You don't sound sure?" She teases gently.
I shrug, "I honestly don't see a need for the apology, I screwed up, and I wanted to see what a fight was like anyway."
Tonks shakes her head wearily, "You're such a weird kid. But you're right in a way too, it's good you got such an easy beatdown already, prepare you for when your DADA classes cover dueling starting in third year." She smirks suddenly, "You don't want to be known as the kid that cried during dueling class." She looks positively gleeful at that, I almost ask, but hold back. I probably don't want to know.
"That was easy?" I say dryly. Wondering what exactly duels were like normally at Hogwarts. The only example from the books had been… Lackluster, to say the least.
"I keep forgetting you're muggleborn with how easy you take to magic." Tonks mutters, she gives me a considering look, "Look… If a muggle kid gets a kick to the nads or a broken nose, it's a big deal, right?" She asks.
I nod, "In some places a kid getting a bruise is enough to have child services involved, so a broken nose would definitely raise alarms and a trip to the emergency room. Where they'd probably as a matter of course get reported to child services just in case."
Tonks nods as well, probably already knowing this stuff, her dad is a muggleborn after all. "Right, well this is a whole 'nother world, Lucas. It usually is what trips the muggle raised kids up." She says seriously, "I could cut your arm off with a cutting curse, and Pomfrey could reattach it in a jiffy as long as it wasn't dark magic. DADA and Charms class teaches numbing charms, stasis charms and blood clotting spells in second year already. So that if any of you get injured or come across someone injured, you can at least do that minimum amount of assistance."
I'm honestly a bit surprised at that. I knew the magical world didn't take injuries very seriously, just from the nonchalant attitude about it from all the adults in the Leaky Cauldron and what references I had read in books so far. Limb reattachment was a new one to me however. Also because, I know we're all carrying reality altering murder weapons, but a blood clotting spell taught to twelve year olds sounds just dangerous. I can just imagine Malfoy using that for evil purposes. Well maybe not Malfoy, he ended up somewhat all talk after all, but a Slytherin for sure.
Tonks leans back on her elbows so she's half laying down, letting out a huff, "In our third year, one kid broke a leg in the first dueling class, another had half the skin on his face melted off because a Slytherin used a spell he hadn't practiced before, and Ophelia broke three ribs." She laughs quietly, "And that was only the first lesson, mind."
"What happened?" I ask, curious, also somewhat wondering what the hell Malfoy and Harry will do to each other in third year - if duels are this vicious. Then again, even a simple Expelliarmus if overpowered could throw someone into a wall like a ragdoll. So it made sense. Magic was dangerous, it's what the Professor's had been beating into our heads all week.
Tonks shrugs, "Professor Savage let us students put the numbing and stasis charms on, as we'd learned the spells the previous year, then he sent them off to the hospital wing. But that is kind of my point." She looks at me seriously, "Even minor spells can do a lot of damage if they hit you, Hogwarts doesn't coddle students, the best way to learn how to dodge or do a proper shield spell, is if it hurts when you fail to do it." She lets me absorb that before continuing, "Our little duel was basically kiddy stuff." She ponders that for a moment, before wincing, "Well, except maybe how Ophelia kept going at your nads, but that's her own separate issue, and I've already apologized for bringing her along."
"So that's why dueling is only allowed in DADA I suppose." I mumble, mind whirling with this new information. It seems this Hogwarts actually prepared its students to defend themselves after school. Is it because of this change that people seem more serious and competent?
Honestly, I couldn't even see how half the shit that happened in the books could even happen now, canon was literally dead.
"Dueling outside of class is heavily punished," Tonks says cheerfully, like she hadn't just done that the other day herself. "Using experimental spells against a student too, that Slytherin I mentioned got two months detention, and couldn't use his wand outside classes for the entire two months." A dark gleeful grin crosses her face, "Everyone called him the muggle Slytherin for months!"
"So that's what you meant… When you said you're sorry for beating me down for the wrong reasons, but not sorry for doing it." I say with realization. Skipping past the obvious relish she feels over some Slytherins predicament.
Tonks grins at me, "You still deserved to get a quick spanking, and you took it like a champ too, at least you won't cry at your first dueling lesson… Like Ophelia." She savors the last sentence, looking perfectly smug.
"There's no way." I shake my head, I can't even imagine that scary unhinged woman crying. There's just no way. Tonks must be lying.
"She broke three ribs, I think the shock did it more than anything." Tonks shrugs, still grinning. She winks at me, "I wouldn't tell her you know, unless you want her to give you three broken ribs."
"Trust me, I'd rather avoid her if I can." I say with a shiver. Seeing a Jaguar jumping at you, is not something to experience more than once. Unfortunately not at all wasn't something I could say anymore.
"Well, I've been way too serious, way too much today!" Tonks suddenly exclaims, pushing herself back to a seated position and drawing her wand. "Wanna learn some prank spells that will make the other little firsties absolutely miserable?"
My grin answers hers. Now I'll probably not use them, I'm having more fun messing with Zacharias then anything. Although I should probably dial it down before he literally hexes me… Doesn't hurt to know some spells just in case though.
It's a fun enough hour together before Tonks has to leave for detention.
It's going to actually suck that she's leaving after this year.
I need at least one friend I can have practically adult conversations with. Well… It might be a few years before Tonks qualifies for that, all things considered.
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The next day, mid-afternoon.
Minerva swept into the hospital wing. Poppy had sent her a patronus, so she only had the barest details, what she knew, had her ready to breathe fire!
"Quirinus, the office. Now!" She barked immediately upon seeing the young man. Sweeping past him without waiting for an answer.
"Poppy, apologies but I'll need to borrow your office for a moment." She said more calmly to the hospital wing matron.
Poppy gave her a tight nod, eyes following the DADA professor. This tension was new, Minerva knew Poppy had quite gotten along with Quirinus before his two year sabbatical. Then again… So had she.
She barely glanced at the two dividers pulled up to hide the students within, giving them some privacy. And preventing them from seeing discord amongst Hogwarts staff. She mustered herself and entered the hospital wings office, Quirinus entering behind her, a polite, curious expression on his face.
Minerva silenced the office with every anti-eavesdropping spell she knew, before exploding on the young man, "You sent Harry Potter to the hospital wing in a theory only lesson! Have you lost your mind!? Explain yourself Quirinus!?"
The man raised a sardonic eyebrow, "Students regularly go to the hospital wing, Minerva. It isn't a concern." His lazy drawl only infuriated the Deputy Headmistress further.
Minerva remembered the young Professor couldn't even use her first name two years ago, still calling her Professor McGonagall. How quickly he'd changed, and not for the better. Not for the first time she wondered what on earth had happened to the man in those two years.
She forcibly calmed herself, she needed to remain professional, "This particular student, for obvious reasons, is watched more closely at the moment, Quirinus." She spoke slowly, as if speaking to a lackwit. "You aren't even doing spellwork yet, so how exactly do you manage to injure not one, but two students in your class!?"
Quirinus smirked, leaning back against the office door, crossing his arms, completely laid back - as a juxtaposition from her own anger. "Mister Potter actually did himself and poor Miss Granger in, all by himself."
Knowing the man would hardly lie to her, when a whole classroom of students could prove differently in such a case, Minerva forced herself to adopt a completely calm mien, raising a questioning eyebrow, "I think that you better tell me what actually happened now, Quirinus…"
She had a feeling this all came down to the type of lessons the Professor had been teaching this week. Damn the man, but he had his lesson plan approved by Albus and herself before the semester. One week, he was allowed one week to go over the threat a muggle could pose to a magical child and how to defend against it.
Neither Albus nor her, had expected he'd spend the entire first week on nothing but, instead of sprinkling it through the curriculum. And with such vitriol. The man had rather isolated himself from the rest of the staff once news trickled in about the lessons. Pomona had almost hexed him for Merlin's sake! Pomona!
"Well, I was holding a rather charming - if I do say so - lecture, on the cruelty in muggle medicine, specifically dentistry." Quirinus spoke up with a thin smile. It grew wider as his knowing eyes caught her own widening in anger.
Miss Granger's parents were dentists. She had met them herself, a lovely couple. If a bit distant. "Did you purposely target Miss Granger, Quirinus?" She snapped out, eyes narrowed. Fingering her wand.
Quirinus noticed, but he simply tilted his head, dark eyes intent, still that thin little smile on his face, "She had a unique perspective on the subject, I do like to bring up topics my students can relate to, as I'm sure you do as well."
Minerva said nothing. Just glared at the man, waiting for his explanation. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her lips curl in disgust to have her teaching compared to his.
If anything this seemed to please Quirinus, as he smirked fully, one hand stroking his chin as he continued, "Ah, yes, I was querying her on the torture implements her parents used on their subjects. When Mister Potter, quite rudely, stepped In-between us and ordered me to stop."
Minerva can almost picture the scene, a teary eyed Miss Granger. And Potter, just like Lily, stepping in and refusing to back down, even if it was a Professor who was being unjust. Silently she thought to herself. Ten points to Gryffindor Mister Potter.
"Then how did both students end up injured? Your tale seems to lack any use of magic." Minerva asked, honestly baffled how this could have possibly led to injuries that required the hospital wing. Quirinus, as distasteful as he was nowadays. Was an accomplished wizard, and fully capable of healing most minor injuries like a fracture and the like.
"I simply asked Miss Granger a final question, ignoring the disrespect from Mister Potter, as a muggle raised," Here Quirinus gives her a sardonic little smile, "He just doesn't know better, does he?" Quirinus continued, unconcerned with Minerva's growing annoyance. "It seems Mister Potter was gripping his wand and thinking severely naughty thoughts, because he managed to explode both his and Miss Granger's desks. The spell burned much of the side of his leg in the process on its way to impact the floor."
"You seem to have escaped any harm." Minerva pointed out, dry as a desert. While wondering if Potter had actually had an accidental magic episode, or if he'd really been thinking of blowing up his Professor… The second… Wasn't ideal, aggravating as the man was. They could not have students blowing up Professor's. Not until the end of May at least.
Quirinus smirked, "It was easy enough to shield myself from the debris." He confirmed lazily, "Sadly, I didn't have the time to shield the children." He gave her the most insincere smile she's ever received, "I just wasn't fast enough, Minerva."
Smile less if you want me to believe that crock! She thought irritably. "I believe you've almost reached your week, Quirinus." She said smartly instead. Seeing his eyes narrowing she continued with a glacier-like coldness. "Albus already reprimanded you for the severity and the subject matter of your lessons. Docking you two weeks pay. I am telling you now. You are done teaching about muggles in class. Or it will be a month's pay, and a written notice to the board of governors."
Quirinus looked like he would protest for a moment, before his shoulders eased, and he leaned back, calm again, "Oh well, I think the lessons had enough time to sink in anyway." He said dismissively.
Minerva knew Albus already regretted signing that contract for the DADA position to Quirinus for the year. Unfortunately they hadn't had any other applicants, and Quirinus had been a polite young man before his sabbatical. If they had known what they'd get… Merlin damn it all, they'd probably still hire the man. Distasteful opinions or not.
Everytime Albus thought he had this curse on the position defeated, it slithered back in again.
Minerva for the first time in her career as an educator. Couldn't wait to find out what it would do to Quirinus.
She only felt slightly guilty for thinking it too.
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Harry Potter was not particularly happy with how his day was shaping up.
This whole magic thing and Hogwarts, it was all so amazing. So much more than he could have ever even dreamt of. Yet, it was also more of the same. Professor Snape wasn't much different from some of his teachers that the Dursley's had convinced he was a thief, a liar and a delinquent. He just couldn't figure out who had told Snape in this scenario, because he hadn't done anything to the man and the Potions Professor seemed to hate him.
Then there was Draco Malfoy. Harry could see a lot of Dudley in him. They had the same arrogance and selfishness, believing everything belonged to them. And of course, Draco also had to be after him of all people. Just because he didn't want to shake his hand after he'd just insulted the first friend he'd ever made.
So the more things changed. The more they stayed the same. With one major difference. He had a friend! And his dorm mates were nice! And maybe will even become his friends too!
Eros Rath and Amit Bakar seemed to drift to each other, both talked alot about Quidditch, Harry listened sometimes just feeling this awe at what they were describing. He couldn't wait for his first flying lesson tomorrow.
Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas had made fast friends, but they never excluded Harry, they always said hello when he entered the dorms. And even offered to play exploding snap with him. He and Ron spent the most time with them, out of all the other first years.
Brian Lupin, a shy, brown haired boy, spent a lot of time with books. He seemed to be a nice bloke, he kind of hung around with the girls a lot more, especially Granger, so Harry hadn't talked much with him.
And Harry had Ron. Who pointed out all the magic stuff Harry had no idea about, and prevented Harry from making an absolute fool of himself this first week. Well until now… He thought morosely.
He just… Couldn't do it. He couldn't stand by. So many times when Dudley and his gang had been bullying him, or beating him up. All he had wished was for someone, anyone. To stand up for him. Say no, that's wrong. Protect him. And no one ever had!
When he saw Granger in tears, silently staring at her desk as Professor Quirrell stood over her so smug and condescending, the Slytherins giggling as he described how backwards and barbaric Granger and her parents were. Harry had realized. She had no one either. This was her moment where she wished anyone would just help. And he had stood up. It had almost felt like an out of body experience.
He had stood up. Stepped in-between Professor Quirrell and Granger. Wand in hand, although not raised, because he wasn't suicidal. And he had told the Professor to stop, and leave Granger alone.
He'd thought he had succeeded. Professor Quirrell had just looked at him like he found him the most curious insect. And Granger had looked up, wiping her tears surreptitiously, a shocked hopeful look on her face.
And then the Professor had asked her how many children she had practiced this barbarity on with her parents. And that face had fallen again. And Harry had exploded! He had no idea what he did, he just felt agony down his legs and then threw himself over Granger as the floor and desk exploded under them. Shards cutting into them.
And now he sat here, mostly healed, a paste on his leg doing the rest of the work on his burn, just waiting to be expelled.
He'd exploded a classroom. Almost blew up his Professor. Blew up another student. It was back to the Dursleys. If they didn't just put him in jail.
The divider next to him was pulled away. And Granger poked her head in hesitantly.
"It's alright, you can come in if you want." Harry said glumly. Not like it mattered. He'd be back in private drive within the day.
Granger slowly came over, looking hesitant as she stood by the bed. Chewing on her lip. Finally she spoke. "I think… What you did was very brave." She said, face turning slightly red, before turning her nose up slightly, "Although, you should have been more respectful to the Professor."
Harry blinked. She was thanking him? For blowing them up? Then again. Thinking of himself being kicked around the yard. He'd have taken a broken arm in a heartbeat if it meant someone stepped in for him, defended him. So he got it, kind of.
"Your welcome?" He managed to get out, feeling slightly bewildered. She'd still defended the Professor too, after what he said. As far as Harry was concerned. Quirrell was even worse than Snape.
"I'm… I mean… My name is Hermione." She squeaked out, holding her hand out, Harry noticed it's shaking a bit. He stared at it, confused.
"I know." He answered back, baffled. "Umm… My name's Harry?" He offered, slowly reaching out and shaking her hand.
"I know." Hermione said with a quirky smile. And they both giggle at how incredibly silly this all is.
The divider is suddenly pulled apart. Hermione letting out an eep as Professor McGonagall steps forward, followed by Professor Quirrell.
"It's good to see you're both healed, Miss Granger, Mister Potter." Professor McGonagall said sternly. Harry's heart sank. Here it came. He was going to be expelled.
"If Madame Pomfrey gives you the clear, you are free to leave, I believe you've missed your last class of the day, so make sure to ask your classmates for their notes." She continued and Harry just stared at her, shocked. He wasn't being expelled? He blew up part of the DADA classroom!
"Ah, yes. Before we forget. That will also be ten points from Gryffindor for disrespecting a Professor, Mister Potter…" Professor Quirrell said with that thin smarmy smile, Harry gave him a rictus of a smile back.
"And… Detention, this Saturday. At seven. For both of you, I think." He continued. It might have been just his imagination but Harry thought Professor McGonagall looked irritated.
"I have… Detention!?" Hermione said, a horrified look on her face. She looked at Professor McGonagall's face, eeped again, and then fell into a dead faint.
"Oh for Merlin's sake, girl!" Professor McGonagall huffed out, a flick of her wand preventing Hermione from hitting the floor. "Stop laughing, Quirinus!" She barked, moving Hermione back to her bed. The horrified expression still on her face.
It was just sinking in.
He wasn't expelled. He'd get to stay at Hogwarts.
Bugger me! How will I explain to Ron I've made friends with Hermione bloody Granger! He thought suddenly. That's what they'd done, right?
Maybe Hermione had the right idea. Stay in the hospital wing.
The bed was super comfortable…
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