Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

With a sudden surge of flames a pair of boot-clad feet stepped out of the grand fireplace and into the main parlour of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Quickly following the first set of feet were two others and the glowing flames of green died out with a silencing hush. 

“Mistress and Masters. Welcome home.”

Rose Potter smiled happily at the sight of Kreacher, their family elf, standing near one of the couches nearby. He was dressed in the very same uniform Rose had made him during the twins’ first summer here and she didn’t hesitate to cross to him. Kneeling down, Rose met Kreacher's loyal stare, having missed the elf greatly during their year long trip. “Kreacher,” she murmured fondly. “Did you miss us?” 

Titling his head, Kreacher offered a smile— that in Harry Potter’s opinion looked more like a pained grimace— and said. “Kreacher is very happy to see Mistress Rose again.”

Sirius Black looked as though he sincerely doubted Kreacher missed him but silently admitted that the miserable elf likely did miss Rose in their absence. He glanced over at the trunk they brought along with them, holding a great deal of belongings that the three of them amassed during their trip. 

Almost immediately after Harry and Rose Potter's graduation from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the two of them and their godfather had used Professor McGonagall’s Floo in order to travel to the Black Cottage along the coast of Wales. They had spent just over two weeks there, the twins exploring the small magical town nearby as well as taking in the beautiful sights the place had to offer. 

The list of places they went to during their trip was far too long and Sirius could have gone to so many more if he had been able to get away with it. Unfortunately, after nearly thirteen months of travelling, they were needed back in London once more.

“Kreacher, get started on a good dinner. The twins had a small breakfast.”

Kreacher bowed his head silently in acquiesce before offering Rose a much lower bow and disappearing with a crack. 

Without another glance at where Kreacher had once stood, Sirius clapped his hands together with a grin. “Alright kids, time to put our things away.” 

They Floo’d straight back from Black Cottage, having gone back to the place they started their trip at, and had only been there for a single night this time around. Harry hadn’t even bothered to change out of his pajamas before they came back, knowing that they wouldn’t be seeing anyone anytime soon anyways. Rose and Sirius just threw on some casual Muggle clothes, jeans and tshirts, and were ready to go as soon as they were all awake. 

Sirius was quick to unlock the latches on the trunk, a deep burgundy in colour with gold accents, and like a well oiled machine he, Harry and Rose began emptying out the numerous items inside. The entire job took a handful of hours, though that included hauling them up to where each item would go, and the twins had just enough time to lay on their beds before Sirius was calling them. 

“Dinner’s ready!”

Harry and Rose took a few seconds before getting up and crossing to their doors, pulling them open and stepping out into the hall simultaneously— the now long since familiar sight had the two smiling at each other in amusement. Harry’s hair was rather wild given he hadn’t done much to it after waking up this morning, though it was at a shorter length, having gotten a haircut shortly before they returned to Black Cottage. Rose’s hair in contrast was longer than she had preferred it in years, though it wasn’t unreasonably long reaching just above halfway down her back. 

With a wave of the hand, Harry gestured to the staircase that was nearer to Rose than him.

Their family home was in great shape, Kreacher keeping it clean and spotless while they were gone, eagerly waiting for their return. The twins both planned to live in Grimmauld Place for at least a few more years, not quite ready to leave the family environment they had only been a part of for four short years now. They had moved in just after their fourth year and given they spent the next three years mostly at Hogwarts, it was perfectly understandable that they wanted to put off getting a place of their own.

Sirius was more than happy that the twins weren’t ready to ‘leave the nest yet’, as he would say. No doubt even with the renovations that had the place looking like a whole new house, Sirius wasn’t thrilled at living in Grimmauld Place on his own. After years wrongfully imprisoned in Azkaban and then devoting all his time to the twins who— as stated before— were mostly at Hogwarts, he too wanted to remain in this family dynamic they’ve had going on for as long as possible.

The meal Kreacher prepared for them was as delicious as always and the three of them ate in silence almost the entire time. The only sounds in the kitchen were the clinking of utensils against their plates and the clunk of a glass being put down here and there. Eventually the silence was broken as Sirius cleared his throat.

When the twins glanced up as one, Sirius smiled briefly before he adopted an apologetic expression. “I forgot the date entirely— or at least the significance of the date— but we do have somewhere we need to be in about an hour…”

The twins shot each other confused looks then raised their brows at their godfather in a silent question.

“I’m not gonna lie, I thought the first thing we did when we got back would be visit the Weasleys— or even just hang out at home.”

Rose glanced over at Harry when he spoke, his voice bouncing off the dark walls around them, eyeing the way he tugged at the collar of his formal dress robes with a wry expression on his face. She herself was dressed similarly, the two of them adorning their favoured colours of green and maroon. Just ahead of them was Sirius, his strides smooth and confident, also wearing his well-known black coloured robes.

After just getting back from their trip a few hours prior, all they had done was unpack things from said trip, eat an incredible meal prepared by Kreacher, and get ready for the Ministry event they had been invited to; and were expected to attend. 

A full year of traveling from destination to destination now behind them, Rose found she was actually very happy to be back and was left with a perpetual feeling that she was floating on air. Her brother would probably share the same sentiment a lot more if they weren’t ending their trip with a Ministry party. Their trip had been well packed but paced so they could enjoy it properly. Going into the adventure the family of three knew they didn’t want to force too many places all at once simply because they could, and instead just let their instinct take them where they wanted to go. Sometimes they spent maybe a few days in a spot while others they spent weeks in.

They kept in touch with their friends the entire time, Marcus Flint— one of Rose’s best friends— even giving them a tour of the France Ministry when they wound up there at the same time he was working. Ginny Weasley was the one they spoke to the most though, and Harry was the one to do the speaking more so than Rose; for obvious reasons.

Despite their worries and their year apart, Harry and Ginny’s relationship was as solid as ever and Rose knew her brother was eager to see her. The two had gotten together about mid-way through the twins’ sixth year— Ginny’s fifth year— and it was now the beginning of July which meant Ginny was officially done with Hogwarts all together. 

(And boy did the twins feel guilty about missing her graduation, even when the girl assured them heartedly that they had no reason too. They decided to make it up to her by getting her an incredible gift.) 

Harry couldn’t wait to go to the Burrow.

Mrs. Weasley had found out from Sirius when they would be arriving and made sure to tell the three of them to come by the day after that. She promised to make them a lovely meal and wanted to hear all about their trip. The only reason she didn’t ask them to come over the day they got back was because she had wanted them to rest up first.

Mission failed.

Their attendance was kind of expected tonight, not just because Sirius was in fact a member of the Wizengamot, but because this particular gathering was to celebrate the recently approved bills and charities set up throughout the year.

The charity the twins had set up— the James and Lily Potter Raising a Better Tomorrow Foundation— in honour of their late parents was now a thing of public reality as of May 23rd. The twins had released a statement about it, having been preparing it since they received its confirmation in February, and other donors had come rolling in. 

With the amount of money the twins already had invested— due to the huge payout from Sirius’ actions in suing the authors and publishers of various books— plus what others donated themselves, they were looking at rolling out a plan stretching out for the next five years to help ten students per year with the cost of schooling at Hogwarts plus more. They even had a comfortable amount to spare for preparations and security should anything unexpected pop up.

The foundation would help pay for good quality books and robes, the essential potion’s ingredients the student would need for that year, and they would be given a set amount of Galleons on their birthday and major wizarding holidays in order to celebrate.

Harry and Rose had been thrilled at how well it had all come together, happily joining Sirius whenever he had his family lawyer come out to meet them to discuss progress. Back in February, after it had made its way through the Wizengamot, another organization idea popped up that was quickly approved.

Thomas Carrington was the main executor involved with the newest proposition, but he had been quickly backed by numerous other Lords and Ladys. His organization idea? A schooling program for kids before their Hogwarts years— Pureblood, Halfblood and Muggleborn alike— that would teach them all they would need to know about the wizarding world. Including— but not limited to— wizarding currency, magical holidays and the general theory of magic.

It had been a rousing discussion when first proposed— by all Dark, Light, and Neutral families. Most for a lot of different reasons and almost entirely positive. Some liked the idea of the magical children meeting each other a lot sooner, especially for the Muggleborns. Some liked the concept of the children being taught the customs that were slowly dwindling in the magical community. While others approved of the kids being taught the life basics that just simply weren’t taught at Hogwarts.

Alongside this proposition Carrington brought forth the idea of a magical care-home to house children with no family or those who were being abused or mistreated by their family.

The idea, while met with great approval, would take a far longer to make its way through the Ministry hurdles but most had great expectations in its success. Needless to say it was something very needed and given the obvious past cases of abuse— take Harry and Rose— most wanted to be seen as if they were doing something to help this issue. There was already talk of setting up another department in the Ministry of Magic strictly aimed towards the care and well-being of magical children. 

A long needed department in Rose’s opinion. 

The Auror Headquarters previously looked after topics involving children but more than enough people thought that there should be a whole department aimed at this task rather than Auror’s dividing their attention between criminals and children.

So now the three of them were striding down the hall towards two open double doors where a faint sound of music was beckoning them forward. The twins would be the youngest in attendance since only the Wizengamot members and those directly involved in the bills and charities were invited to attend.

Hence their need to be there.

“We only need to mingle long enough to make an impression,” Sirius offered over his shoulder, a teasing tone in his voice. Harry let out a brief huff but didn’t offer any protests while Rose turned her head to hide the amused smile that threatened to break out on her face. 

The party was already in full spring when they entered, though they were likely not the last to arrive. The crowds weren’t nearly as thick as the last Ministry party they attended just after they turned seventeen but there were still a good amount in attendance. Sirius offered them a brief look that had the twins nodding at once and without another word he tore off from their group, going to offer the expected greetings to the other Wizengamot members.

Rose tapped Harry’s arm twice and gestured to where a waiter was approaching with a tray of drinks. Harry grinned. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said as he stepped forward, snagging two glasses from the tray and handing one to Rose.

“Let’s roam a bit,” Rose suggested, her eyes trailing around them absently, taking in the vaguely familiar faces. After she got an agreeable hum from her brother she moved off in a random direction.

Harry and Rose were almost always a pair people wanted to talk to. They had the reputation as the ‘saviours of the wizarding world’ since the Dark Lord killed their parents and tried to kill them when they were only a year old. The two of them were the only ones to survive that night, though the Dark Lord hadn’t stayed gone forever.

They bore matching scars as a reminder of that night, Harry’s on his forehead and Rose’s on her throat, both like a bolt of lightning streaking across a dark sky. Two scars that proved they had done the impossible— survived the infamous Killing Curse, a feat no one else had ever done before. Despite their reputation, Harry and Rose believed very little in it and never really had since first learning about it when they were eleven. As far as they were concerned their parents were the reason they survived, Rose certain they must have found some kind of magic that would aid, if not them, then their two children. The majority believed it was them though, that they each possessed something special that let them live to see another day.

In Rose’s opinion, the majority of people were morons.

They had the expected conversations here and there, stopped by an assortment of people interested in making small talk or finding some gossip to share with others. Some asked about their charity, praising them for being so generous, others wanting their opinions on Carrington’s ideas; both the preschool and his care-home. Carrington was apparently quite the impressive person. Nearly every conversation they had the man’s name was brought up, people talking about how perhaps he would one day take over after Fudge had run his course as Minister of Magic.

Their enthusiasm about him was rather ironic considering he was actually the Dark Lord they all so famously feared and refused to even utter the name of. 

Rose couldn’t help but wonder if these very talks would cost Tom’s alter-identity his position as Fudge’s Undersecretary. Merlin knew that the Minister was as possessive as a dragon with jewels when it came to his high standing position, having been forever paranoid that Dumbledore would take it back when he was alive. Then again, with Lucius Malfoy whispering in his ear, perhaps Tom would be saved from any backlash his newly shining spotlight would offer.

“So, what are your plans now that you’re back?” 

Harry and Rose were currently standing with Lord Greengrass, his face appearing genuinely interested in their answer. He was rather contrasting in comparison to his daughters. Unlike the two girls' blonde hair, their father had dark brown hair that was greying at his temples. He seemed like a friendly man though, with lines around his dark coloured eyes and mouth that suggested he smiled often.

With a glance at his sister, Harry said. “I want to focus more on how to run the family estate, so I’ll be shadowing Sirius for the foreseeable future.”

And boy was Sirius enthusiastic about that when Harry first brought it up, eagerly agreeing to the whole idea. Lately Harry had been dealing with feelings of faint guilt at leaving the more boring matters involved in their life to Rose and had come to the conclusion that he needed to start taking on more of the weight of their responsibilities. Rose had assured him she didn’t mind doing it but didn’t offer protests to Harry’s plans as she knew, despite him thinking otherwise, Harry would do very well as a family Lord. She was also excited to be able to discuss more political things with Harry, having always been curious about his opinions and thoughts on certain Ministry issues.

“What about you, Heir Black?”

Rose tilted her head briefly as Greengrass addressed her, mildly surprised at the name he chose to use (most had always went with Heir Potter or Miss Potter), but she answered his question nonetheless. “I want to become an Unspeakable.”

Greengrass’s brows lifted but he didn’t look incredulous or skeptical but rather surprised at the choice. “I suppose that should not be a surprise given you finished top of your class.”

Sirius had told Rose that there was a lot that went into being an Unspeakable. They had multiple rounds of interviews, each harder than the next and each one different. It was all annoyingly vague but that was all Sirius had been able to find out. They were called Unspeakables for a reason. There was also numerous different types of paperwork that she would have to fill out along with sending a copy of her grades. It would be a lengthy process and according to Sirius could possibly take up to a year to even get finalized, depending on how backed up certain Ministry departments were.

But Rose was nothing if not patient.

“Well I wish you both the best of luck moving forward,” Greengrass said sincerely and the twins nodded as one while Harry returned the sentiment quietly. 

That was how most conversations went at these events. Most didn’t stay in the company of the same person all night and honestly Rose was relieved that was the norm. It was only the odd time that people lingered and even then that was more a group setting rather than one on one conversations. 

They found Sirius again not long after that, standing with Lucius Malfoy, Amelia Bones, the Minister and someone Rose was sure was named Yaxley. He grinned when he spotted them, waving them over with a glass in hand. 

“Heir Potter. Heir Black.” Madam Bones greeted as they neared Sirius.

“Madam Bones.” Harry murmured in return. 

The need to say everyone’s names and titles upon seeing one another was one Harry didn’t fully understand. Sirius had joked once long ago that it was only the title of ‘heir’ or ‘lord’ that few had to brag about. Nevertheless, Harry still greeted everyone by the proper titles, Rose more nodding her own sentiments than voicing them— which none of them seemed to take offence to.

While Rose had made great leaps from her mostly mute days, she still didn’t have much of a desire to talk in public gatherings beyond a few words here and there. There was also the faint reluctance that came along with the thought that once she did start really speaking word would spread and she’d be forced to endure numerous conversations she always managed to avoid.

Best keep to short and simple sentences plus her well-known silence for now.

“Your father was just telling us about some of the places you visited over the last year,” Fudge said to them in a voice that screamed politician. 

Bones spoke up next, looking just the same as the last time the twins saw her, monocle and all. “What plans do you have next?”

Sirius answered for them, a proud grin on his face, reaching over to clap Harry's shoulder. “Harry will be shadowing me for the next while to get ready to take over as Lord Potter.” He gave him a fond shake before releasing him. “And Rosie has her sights set on the Unspeakables.”

“The Unspeakables require a great deal of dedication.” Yaxley commented, his voice borderline condescending. He was a terribly average looking man, nothing about his appearance standing out in a bad way— but not in a good way either. His robes were clearly well made, and the wrinkles around his mouth spoke of someone who sneered far too often.

Lifting a brow minutely, Rose only said. “Believe me, when I want something, I tend not to stop until I get it.”

Yaxley’s jaw clenched at the response, but he kept any further reaction from his face, more than likely due to his own fear of the Dark Lord. As a high ranking member of Voldemort’s army Yaxley knew that there was a strict rule enforced by the Dark Lord himself that the twins were not to be bothered in any way. 

Blackmail was truly a thing of wonder in Rose’s opinion. 

“I was quite impressed with your organization,” Bones offered, skillfully turning the almost tense air with ease. “I hadn’t been able to discuss it with either of you since you've been gone.” Her eyes darted between the two as she asked. “Who first brought up the idea?”

“Ro’ did," Harry said at once firmly. Ever since that first mis-assumption about Rose’s role in the charity he was extra prickly when anyone asked that question. Bones did not look at all disbelieving as the one man did, which immediately thawed Harry’s growingly cold exterior.   

Lucius Malfoy did tilt his head thoughtfully though. “Well congratulations on what I’m sure is just the start of many successful endeavours.” A raised glass accompanied his words, the others present quick to do the same. The conversation turned from the twins to the many other bills and foundations that had been set up, much to Harry’s relief. Fudge boasted about the Ministry’s latest successes, while blatantly ignoring its major problems.  

About an hour into the event, between one second and the next actually, the party was abruptly interrupted when the doors, having been shut when the last of the guests arrived, slammed open and drew all eyes to them at once as they banged against the walls. Two Aurors were rushing in, their faces pale and sweaty and their chests heaving as they panted heavily.

“What is the meaning of this?” Fudge’s irate voice rang out at the sight of them, one hand on his hip while the other clutched his glass tightly as he glared at the interruption. Bones moved forward as well, though her face was far more serious and concerned. When the two men didn’t offer any response straight away, Fudge all but stomped his foot. “Well? If it was so important that you had to rush in here with all this commotion, out with it!”

Bones looked as though she wanted to protest, likely to take whatever this was to a more private venue, but the two Auror’s shared a glance and opened their mouths as one before she could do anything more. 

“Grindelwald has vanished from Nurmengard!”

Chapter Text

“What’s the Ministry gonna do now?”

The following morning found the twins and Sirius at the Burrow for a ‘welcome back brunch ’. Mrs. Weasley had been thrilled to see them, hugging all three of them as soon as they came through the Floo and then urging them to sit down. 

The Weasley family were by far the twins’ favourite magical family, the family of redheads welcoming the two into their lives with open arms many years ago. Ron had been the first friend Harry and Rose had ever made, back when they were all first-years, and he stood by them through thick and thin, as did his siblings and parents.

Their kindness was something neither twin felt they could ever repay— not that any of the Weasleys expected them to.

The Burrow hadn’t changed at all since the twins first stepped foot into it when they were twelve, the homey lived-in feeling ever present as they all sat down to eat. Down the length of the middle of the dining table was an assortment of breakfast foods Mrs. Weasley so lovingly prepared, she was a top-tier cook and there were very few who didn’t enjoy a meal she prepared.

Mr. Weasley was already gone to work, so it was just Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione Granger— the twins' other best friend— present that morning. The latter two got in a relationship back in their seventh-year and were still going strong though Hermione was living with her parents rather than staying at the Burrow. Rose imagined she’d find a place in the magical world soon enough though.

The twins had been eager to come over since the abrupt end of the Ministry's party last night. As soon as they had all sat down and began preparing their plates Harry launched into his recount of what happened. His words had Mrs. Weasley freezing while Hermione and Ginny stared in shock at the reveal of Grindelwald’s supposed disappearance. Ron was the one to break the silence first, his question the very same one Harry and Rose were wondering too.

Sirius was the one to offer an answer. “They’ll try and track him down. Find out if he escaped on his own or if he had help.”

Hermione was already chewing on the edge of her thumbnail worriedly while Mrs. Weasley looked as though she wanted to change the subject but couldn’t come up with the words just yet. 

Luckily Ginny took charge. “How was your trip?”

Harry grinned at her topic change, easily picking up what she was doing. Of all the Weasleys Ginny had been the one they kept in touch with the most due to her having Rose’s mirror, one that could call the matching one Harry had, so she knew quite a few details of their vacation already.

“It was great ,” Harry declared grandly as he slathered his pancakes in syrup. “After we stayed at the Black Cottage for like two weeks, we spent time in Ireland and Scotland and explored all these old castles— magical and Muggle.” He cut off a piece, waving it around as he said. “Then we went to France and got a tour of their Ministry plus we visited the marketplace there too.

He said the last bit to Hermione, as the girl had been eager to urge them to visit after going there herself with her parents. “Wasn’t it wonderful?” She enthused, a bright smile on her face at the new subject of conversation. 

The twins nodded in agreement and Rose sat forward to speak with Hermione directly across from her. “When we went to Egypt we visited the Hidden Library of Alexandria. You absolutely have to go.”

Sirius raised his glass in his own silent agreement as he explained to Hermione. “Every magical book that’s ever been officially published winds up on those shelves.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up at that while Ron looked curious. 

“Officially published?”

“Yeah— can’t be every book that’s ever been written as there are plenty of those, plus private ones some folks don’t share. Still it’s by far the most extensive library in the world.”

Harry huffed a laugh as Hermione looked all but ready to burst out of her chair in excitement. “Maybe you guys can check it out next time you visit Bill.”

Bill was the eldest Weasley child, he worked for the Egypt branch of Gringotts and had since he graduated from Hogwarts. The Weasleys have visited him in the past, most notably before Ron’s third year after they won a large sum of money in a magical lottery.

“Bill’s not in Egypt anymore,” Ginny said, giving Hermione a consoling and amused look as she said it.

“He’s not?”

Ron shook his head as he added his second helping of scrambled eggs onto his plate. “Nah, he and Fleur bought a real nice cottage by the shoreline a couple of months ago.” He scooped up some food and told them through a mouthful. “I sh’ayed d’ere a while chu ‘elp ‘em geh sh’eh up— ish grea’.”

Mrs. Weasley frowned in reproach, absently wiping her hands on her apron while she began to clear the empty dishes at the table. “Ron, don't talk with your mouth full.”

“The twins have to rethink their plans for expanding.” Ginny commented suddenly.

Harry frowned. “Why? I thought they were gonna buy the shop where Zonko’s was?”

The twins in question were Fred and George, who had a shop called Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes which opened just before the start of Harry and Rose’s sixth year. It was a roaring success right from the start and the two had long since talked about expanding to Hogsmeade, a village near Hogwarts, given most of their customers were school age. 

Zonko’s was another joke shop in Hogsmeade that had been a customer favourite but after rumours of them shutting down had spread the twins thought it would have been a perfect time for aggressive expansion.

“Zonko’s isn’t selling, apparently they had second thoughts about shutting and are gonna stay open. So the twins have to find a new place, which has been a bit difficult.”

“That sucks,” Harry said with a frown, Ron nodding in agreement, his mouth too full to speak at the moment. 

“They're not too upset,” Ron told them after he finished his plate off once more, his mum grabbing his plate soon after. “I’ve been working at their shop again and the two are still in high spirits. You know how they are.”

Ron had started working at his brothers’ shop the summer after sixth year and Ginny had mentioned that he started to do so again a couple months after they graduated. It was a great fit for him at the moment, as Ron was still rather undecided on what he wanted to do in the future, choosing rather to experience life for a bit and find something that inspired him.

Neither Harry, Rose, nor Sirius expected the Weasley twins to be upset about this latest news on their shop. The two had faced worse hardships before opening and they never let it deter them when it came to the goals they had in mind. They were certain they’d find a way to open up the second shop soon enough.

“Who’s gonna run the other shop?” Harry asked curiously. “Will Fred manage one and George the other?” 

With a grin and a shake of the head, Ron said. “Nah, when they move out to Hogsmeade I’m gonna keep their current shop running.” 

Harry’s expression turned surprised and excited. “Seriously?”

“Definitely the better option,” Ginny remarked with a smile. “Their shop now kinda slows down during the school year, and I can only imagine how insane the one in Hogsmeade would be whenever there’s a Hogsmeade trip.”

There were quite a few murmurs of agreement at that, Merlin knew Hogsmeade was always hectic during the trips and Fred and George’s shop was almost always packed during the summers.

Sirius eyed Ginny curiously. “And what are your plans now?” 

The twins already knew the answer to that but didn’t say anything as Ginny smirked. “I was scouted by the Holyhead Harpies and they asked me to do a year-long training session— varied throughout the year— in order to see if I can handle it.” She spoke in a proud voice, which she definitely should considering how often people actually get scouted straight out of school. “I’ll be set up against about two dozen people from different parts of the world and only two of us will be asked to join the team.”

Sirius let out a low whistle at those odds but Hermione was quick to chime in, her voice earnest and encouraging. “You’ll do great, I’m sure! You are an excellent Seeker!”

“Does this mean you’ll be gone for the next year?” Mrs. Weasley then asked, reluctance clear in her voice. Ginny had yet to explain all this to her mother, only having known herself for a few days having been owled the packet from the scout she had spoken to.

Shooting her mother a reassuring smile, she said. “My training will only be Monday to Thursday and I’ll be home the rest of the time.”

“You gonna stay at the training camps during the week or come home at the end of the day?” Harry asked his girlfriend curiously. 

“They have a living area there so I’ll only stay at home on my days off. I figure it’d be better that way.”

Sirius nodded in interest. He had always wondered how exactly training went for potential Professional Quidditch players. James had been scouted in his seventh year as well, but given the state of the war he had refused, wanting to focus on what he thought were more important things. He shot Hermione a look now. “And what about you?”

Hermione sat up straighter, a determined expression on her face that had most smiling fondly. “In August I will be starting an internship at the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, in the Administrations department, so I can help shape the laws of the magical world.” Her words were a declaration more so than anything else but she then confessed. “It’s mostly gathering drinks and filing paperwork for employees— but we have to start somewhere!”

“So what’s the next step in your plan after the internship?” Rose asked curiously, knowing Hermione well enough by now to know that she probably had an at least fifteen step plan that would eventually lead her to achieving her goal.

“I’m hoping to become an assistant to Madam Bones, or even the Minister himself, which should open so many more doors.” Hermione revealed, sitting forward with exuberance as she spoke to Rose, Ron smiling fondly in his seat next to her.

Since leaving school Hermione had spent the last year living with her parents, at their request. She had a part time job at their dental practice and it was a time that Hermione realised she really needed, having been so far from her parents since she was eleven. Now she felt more ready for the adult world— for the magical world— and it was that feeling that led her to her next venture. 

It was hard not to smile at Hermione's enthusiasm, Merlin knew when she found something that she was passionate about she dove in head first every time. 

Mrs. Weasley, having cleared the table of all dishes and what little remaining leftovers there were, sat back down at the opposite end of the table. “Do the two of you have any plans for your birthday?” She asked the twins, drawing the tables attention before all eyes darted to Harry and Rose.

Harry frowned and admitted. “We haven’t given it much thought.” He gave a shrug as he glanced over at his sister. “We’ll probably just do cake and a meal at our house.”

“Kreacher is eager to make us another feast,” Rose chimed in. “After us being gone for so long I’d like him to make our birthday dinner.”

“We’ll have everyone over that day,” Sirius suggested with a look at the two, before adding in a joking tone. “It’ll give us a chance to finally put our formal dining room to use considering we mostly eat in the kitchen.”

That was true. The formal dining room of Grimmauld Place was three floors above the kitchen, and while they could get Kreacher to bring the food up it always seemed like a bit of a waste of time when they had a perfectly good table right by where the food was made.

“You guys never said what you’re gonna do next,” Ron said suddenly, his brows raised as his eyes darted between Harry and Rose.

“I’m gonna shadow Sirius for the next while,” Harry said with an absent wave at their godfather. “Merlin knows I don’t have a clue about being a ‘Lord’ and I don’t wanna mess things up for the Potter family.”

“That would never happen,” Sirius is quick to say while Rose frowned at her brother in reproach.

With a fond smile, Harry continued speaking as though he wasn’t interrupted. “Either way my next while is gonna be boring meetings with Sirius.”

Now Sirius put a hand to his chest in mock offence. “I’m hurt that you would use my name and boring in the same sentence.”

He got a couple of laughs at that and Ron glanced over at Rose. “What about you, Ro’? Still looking to join the Unspeakables?”

Rose hummed quietly in reply. “I’m going to the Ministry soon to pick up the application.”

Mrs. Weasley gave a bright smile to all of them, her eyes shining with emotion. “Well, it looks as though we will all be busy soon.” 

She ignored the new information of Grindelwald with the ease of a woman who has lived through a war more than once before and was determined to enjoy the remainder of her happy life in case it was taken from her without warning.

Ron leaned across the table after his mother spoke, a bright grin on his face as he said. “I’m so glad you guys are back.”

He got a pair of matching smiles in return. It was good to be back.

In a valley on top of a hill at the edge of a small Muggle town called Little Hangleton was where a manor stood. It once belonged to a Muggle family who died rather mysteriously and if you were to ask any of the people in town about the home they would tell you it was torn down years ago without the faintest recollection of any of the details. 

It was larger than the average manor, two floors high plus a basement level with additions having been added on since it was officially decided to be reoccupied three years ago. The windows were clean and the outer walls a smooth stone that spoke of wealth in a tasteful way. There was a large garden out back that had an ornate water fountain at its center. A grand front door that was almost never used stood near its centre while those who were allowed within the manor always arrived via Floo or through an Apparition point inside. 

The inside of the home was what those in the magical world would describe as Slytherin inspired. Not too surprising considering who resided there. The East wing of the manor was where an assortment of bedrooms and bathrooms were set up, each as decadent as the other— this was where a number of powerful wizards and one witch lived, unable to live in their own homes due to their status as Wanted Criminals . Not far from this wing was a meeting room, where numerous other wizards and witches would come to hear word from the man to whom they swore their undying loyalty to. 

The person who this manor belonged to? The Dark Lord Voldemort— also known as Tom Marvolo Riddle. To those who were weak and easily susceptible to fear he was known as You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. In more recent years, to the hardworking Ministry officials and important family Lords and Ladys, he was known as Thomas Carrington; a promising young man with great ambitions to help the British magical community.

The Dark Lord lived on the second floor of the West wing in the manor and it was strictly forbidden for anyone else to enter it. That was where he had an assortment of rooms meant for him and him alone. A library, smaller than the main one the manor had but with far rarer books, an office, a potions room, and many more rooms that suited the Dark Lord’s needs. 

At one point each of these rooms had simply been more bedrooms but were repurposed due to the fact that the Dark Lord only needed the one room for himself and his dear companion, Nagini; his pet snake. Directly below him were the kitchens and numerous other rooms his most loyal would have no need to go searching for.

He had another office closer to the center of the manor, not far from where his Floo room was set up on the first floor. It was there he met with those who dared to request his attention as well as those he called to him.

The meetings he had with his inner circle— his most loyal and valuable of all his followers— were held in a large room that was mostly empty barring a long table with sixteen chairs around it. A fireplace was on the right with an elegant white marble mantle. The dark wooden floors and the emerald-nearing-black rug beneath the table gave the room a distinctly Slytherin air. There were a few statues artfully placed throughout the room, but other than that there was not much else. The Dark Lord’s chair stood at one end of the table, the other end left empty with no chair in sight, while his followers sat down the length of it on either side of him.

Exactly as they were doing now. 

Tom sat in silence as he put his thoughts together, each of his followers patiently waiting for him to speak. In the years since his official return his moves had been carefully calculated. Well — after his thoughts had become clear once more and the heavy fog of rage and vengeance that had encompassed his mind had disappeared.

The wizarding world still had yet to know about his return and while at one point he would have rectified this as soon as he had the Prophecy that once plagued him, or even after the death of Albus Dumbledore, he found his current moves to be far more pleasing. 

Thomas Carrington was quickly becoming a well-respected individual. There were plenty of Lords and Ladys who wished to back his ideas, financially and through means of public endorsement, which were pushing his agendas in far more ways than if he had decided to take the Ministry by force.

True, by force would have led to him making changes straight away, but it also would have led to a rebellion that would more than likely gain sympathy from neighbouring countries. 

This way Tom was able to make alliances as Carrington, a great deal of the people voicing their positive opinions on his ideas not strictly from Britain.

Sure his followers, those who were once in Azkaban that is, were still unable to go out as themselves, but they were willing to wait. They all had been given well crafted identities as well, so they were free to roam in the magical world if they wished. There were the stubborn few who refused, those who wished to wait until they could walk the streets with their true face, but Tom would ensure that they would one day soon.

Their meetings had been of mostly high spirits as of late, and the missions his inner and outer circle members were sent on were covert ones out of the country. It was practically tangible in the air that they had won this war already, that what they sought to accomplish for so long was within their grasp and nothing would stand in their way now.

Until recent events that is.

The news of Grindelwald’s escape was a heavy thing around them all and Tom resisted the urge to frown as his thoughts tumbled over and over about what to do next.

The party from last night had left the Ministry in a real disarray as they attempted to keep a lid on things. A nearly impossible goal as most Purebloods would be incapable of keeping quiet, whether because of fear or just a need to spread gossip. Tom had been unable to call this meeting last night after the party as this latest news had him stuck to Cornelius’s side as the bumble of a Minister worried over what to do next. As such, he had been forced to wait till the early hours of this morning to call his meeting with his inner circle.

Of all the events he had planned ahead for, admittedly Grindelwald had not been in any of them. Why would he be? The failure of a Dark Lord had been locked in Nurmengard since Tom’s final year at Hogwarts, back when he was still a teenager.  

He glanced over at Lucius. “I want ears on the Minister at all times,” Tom ordered. While he himself was Cornelius’ Undersecretary, worries of losing his position to someone else, especially someone who has been making waves like Tom was, would slowly have him hiding whatever he could from him. “Make sure that he confides in you whenever possible.”

Without waiting for a word or even acknowledgement of agreement he turned his stare to Avery. “Track down Grindelwald but do not engage. Simply find out where he is and if he is still alive.”

“Of course, My Lord,” Avery said at once, his dark eyes eager to please.

Avery was a skilled tracker, far beyond what Tom himself had ever seen before, and he knew if anyone could find the previous Dark Lord it would be him.

Tom scanned the rest of the table, his mind already thinking of which of them might jump ship if Grindelwald did make another move to rise again. There were an assortment of people who joined his ranks for a number of reasons, but most joined because of the things he promised, the beliefs he espoused. Which meant if he didn’t follow through on these things or showed he was leaning away from them or was even simply moving too slow for them, he’d risk losing followers. But there were those who followed him because of the power he wielded. These were the people who trusted his word and would follow any command and any future he chose to lead them to. 

The majority of his inner circle were the latter; though some more so than the others.

He wasn’t worried about the Lestranges or Barty— Tom was unbelievably certain in their loyalty. Lucius wouldn’t switch, not with his heir already marked as well, and Severus most certainly learned his lesson about trying to juggle multiple Lords after his stint with Dumbledore. Crabbe and Goyle would follow Lucius wherever he went, had to, and their heirs were also marked by him now. Rookwood was loyal, not to the extent of the Lestranges and Barty, but loyal nonetheless. Travers, Dolohov, and Macnair he felt mostly confident wouldn’t change sides, even with Tom’s newer enactments, but Avery not so much— he would do whatever possible to survive. Tom was holding onto the thought that Avery wouldn’t want to be on opposite ends of the three men he spent decades working with. Even if two of them had been in Azkaban for well over a decade, Tom was aware that Macnair and Avery had remained close all these years.

Nott was unfailingly loyal to the Pureblood cause, but if he thought Tom wasn’t he may just pull a turncoat despite his fierce loyalty in the past. Yaxley was a social climber first off. Tom didn’t think he’d join Grindelwald so soon, not with his army near non-existent at the moment, but if Grindelwald did make a steady rise there was a high chance of Yaxley being convinced to join his side. Or at the very least be blackmailed from Tom’s side— though in concerns to the latter the same could be said for Avery.

His mind went back to Grindelwald’s escape once more and Tom wondered if he had had help with his escape. Surely if he had been capable of escaping on his own he would have done so long before now. 

Or perhaps he had been waiting for news of Dumbledore’s death? A likely thing, given it was Dumbledore who defeated him and got him locked in Nurmengard in the first place.

No one dared to interrupt the Dark Lord as his eyes strayed off in thought, but they did start minutely as he spoke suddenly, his voice sharp and firm.

“Everyone but Barty and the Lestranges can leave.” 

There were no protests to his order as the rest of the table quickly stood and made their exit while the remaining four straightened in their seats, eyes locked on him.  After the room was emptied of those unneeded, Tom waved his hand surreptitiously and spoke in an unyielding but quiet voice. “I want you to keep an eye out for anyone who might be pulled to Grindelwald's side should he truly come back; in both the outer circle and inner circle of our ranks.”

He got nods of reply at once. The Lestrange brothers as determined as they always were during missions and Barty with his own uncharacteristically serious look. Bella had an almost fanatical determination on her face but it was not nearly as bad as it had been a few years back.

Tom’s efforts to reduce the Black Madness and Azkaban’s effects had been largely successful. Of course it wasn’t entirely gone, it never would be, but Bella was far more in control than she had been since before the height of the First War. Nevertheless she wouldn’t be Bella without her next promise.

“I’ll slay and torture anyone foolish enough to turn their back on you, My Lord!”

With a minuscule smile at the words and a quick glance between the four of them, Tom did nothing more than nod once more in dismissal. As the last of his inner circle walked off, Tom let his thoughts trail to their current plans once more.

They had done an excellent job of inserting themselves into the Ministry and his plans for the pre-Hogwarts schooling was coming along fantastically, with even the Light Lord’s eagerly pushing the idea along. It gave him high hopes that he would be ready to push his plans for the adoption of Muggleborns as well as officially make his orphanage for orphaned and abused children a reality in the near future. Everything would fall into place soon, and if Grindelwald did make a rise it would be far sooner than that. 

With an almost silent sigh, Tom stood. He had another conversation he wanted to have and if his information proved correct, he’d find just the person he was looking for in the Ministry of Magic very soon.

Rose Potter could admit that she could have chosen a better day to come into the Ministry of Magic to fill out her application for the Unspeakables.

As one would assume, news had travelled fast about Grindelwald and as Rose glanced to the table to the right of her own she spotted a newspaper with the front page clear to see along with its blaring headline.

Grindelwald Escapes!

The news had this area of the Ministry of Magic far busier than Rose would have liked, forcing her to wait in long tedious lines as everyone and their mothers brought in their panicked words and letters.

Someone sitting in the chair on her left brought Rose out of her increasingly vacant stare from where she was filling out miscellaneous information on a sheet of paper and she looked up to see Tom seated beside her.

He, of course, was wearing his usual glamour of Thomas Carrington. His deep brown hair was combed neatly, his dark blue eyes lighter and his few freckles clearer to see in the Ministry lighting. He was dressed in a nice set of robes; nothing that screamed money— which would be out of place for just an average day— but that spoke of a high quality not everyone could afford.

“Good morning,” Tom greeted politely, his gaze darting towards the crowds around them. Most people were standing, though there was the occasional person seated at one of the other tables scattered around the room.

If someone had asked Rose when she first got into the magical world if she ever thought there’d be a day where she’d sit and endure possible small talk with the Dark Lord she would have ignored them entirely. Their interactions, while not frequent, weren't few and far between either. The man’s alter identity had been the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor’s assistant in her sixth year and the actual Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor in her final year. Regardless Rose had long since accepted he would speak to her whenever he felt like it and most of the time she did find the conversations to be rather engaging. 

It helped that Rose had no fear whatsoever of the man, having successfully all-but-blackmailed him into an agreement of leaving her and her brother— as well as fifteen people of their choosing— alone. That was back when she was fifteen, and now just on the edge of nineteen, Rose could say she had no regrets about making those moves, her life becoming just what she always wanted it to be since then.

Tom was also in a position where he not only had to leave them be but actually had to protect Rose and her brother as well, which had her less concerned about Grindelwald’s recent escape than others. She wouldn’t dismiss him entirely though, it would be foolish and delusional to think that Grindelwald wouldn’t cross their paths at some point given their lives.

“Good morning,” Rose answered in reply even as she turned her attention back to finishing her application. 

“I admit, I was curious about whether you would continue your goal to become an Unspeakable.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Tom paused a beat before he simply said. “Sometimes travel can change a person's mind, not to mention the news that was revealed last night.”

Rose glanced up and smiled briefly in wry amusement. “Travel only increased my desire to reach my goal— considering I’ve been left with a less distinct level of stimulation for the last year.” She tilted her head briefly, looking back down at her paper as she twirled her quill in hand. “And I’ve never been one to let a Dark Lord stand in the way of what I want.”

She got an amused quirk of the lips in return at that, no challenge to the words offered, and Tom asked. “How was your trip?”

“It was great,” Rose admitted as she scrawled her signature at one of the noted places. “Me and Harry crossed off a lot of things we’ve always wanted to do off our bucket lists and I was pleased to be able to see different magical communities and how they operated.”

“What countries did you visit?”

“Quite a few,” she told him, eyes still on her application. “The only Ministry operations we saw a lot of though were France, Germany, and Italy.”

Tom sat forward in his seat, his forearms coming to rest on the table top as he clasped his hands together, and he watched her interestedly. “Those are some good choices. I still remember the first time I saw them.”

Rose finally looked up at him, the last of her ‘i’s’ dotted and ‘t’s’ crossed. She pursed her lips for a second before asking what she’s been wanting to ask someone since her first visit at another Ministry. “Did you feel like the British Ministry of Magic was clearly lacking in a lot of ways after your visit?”

She got a quiet hum of agreement as Tom’s eyes darted to the still packed crowds around them, though their conversation was hidden from any curious ears that may be nearby. “When I first left school I worked a bit first, saved up money as the Slytherin bank accounts had been nearly completely drained by the time I came upon them. By the time I had enough to be able to travel comfortably I was about a year older than you are now.” He waved around them absently, the rings on his fingers glinting in the light. “I had visited an assortment of Ministries and it was then that I truly saw just how far behind we were from our other European counterparts.”

His attention returned to Rose and she was quick to spot the gleam in his eyes that she now knew usually followed with him speaking about something he was impassioned about. “I saw first and foremost that we were moving backwards. So desperate to cater to the Muggleborns that we were losing that which made magical communities thrive.”

Rose stared at him in silence, not interrupting the words he spoke so vehemently as she thought over what he was saying. There was no way to refute what he said as Rose knew, from what Marcus and Adrian told her, that the practice of wizarding holidays hadn’t always been so rare or hidden. At one point the Ministry of Magic had openly celebrated each of the major and minor sabbots but that was a thing of the past now apparently.

“I knew if we truly wanted to get back on track it would have to be done by force.” Tom finished darkly.

Rose huffed softly. “How many Horcruxes did you have when you came to that conclusion?”

Horcruxes . A rather abhorrent branch of magic that the Dark Lord foolishly engaged in in his youth. In an effort to achieve immortality he ripped his soul to pieces, attaching it to numerous objects and losing his sanity along the way. He had fallen so far into the craft over the years that he even created some Horcruxes without even knowing, his soul so damaged and splintered.

His reasoning for protecting Rose and her brother? He accidentally made each of them into a Horcrux as well when he tried to kill them back when they were mere infants. The act was just another bit of proof of his fall in rationality, so worried about vague prophecies spilling out potential threats that he almost brought forth his own destruction.

He seemed to have learned his lesson with that though, ten years of the world believing he was dead and being abandoned by the majority of his followers, Tom was now carefully thinking over each and every move he made before he made it. It probably helped that back when she blackmailed him Rose forced him into an agreement to absorb his first Horcrux, the one with the biggest piece of his soul attached.

Hence his ability to think rationally once more.

It wasn’t exactly that outcome that had Rose was including that in the agreement but rather her curiously driving her to see if it would change anything in him.

But— whatever works, right?

Tom grimaced briefly— so brief that if Rose hadn’t been watching him as close as she was then she would have missed it entirely— and let out a sigh. “I had just finished my third.” He admitted, his eyes darting up to hers rather determinedly unrepentant. “I had murdered my Muggle father and grandparents and made the Gaunt Ring into one, and just before my travels I happened upon Helga Hufflepuff’s Cup.”

The diary would have been the first, having been made back when Tom was in Hogwarts when he was sixteen. 

He was rather cavalier about revealing this but Rose supposed there wouldn’t be much need of secrecy with her. For one, she wasn’t going to do anything with that information, for another Dumbledore had already explained a lot of this to her brother during his ‘defeat-the-dark-lord-lessons’ in their sixth year. 

Nevertheless, Tom powered on past his admittance, refusing to let his previous point go. “Regardless, couldn’t you see how far behind we are in terms of embracing magical customs?”

“Yes, I could.” Rose quietly agreed.

When they had been in France it had been Samhain and when they went to the French Ministry of Magic the place had been rife with the expected traditions. The same for Italy, which they happened to be in during Ostara; their family had been given a gift basket filled with things that could be used to celebrate the event. It was a big contrast to their own Ministry of Magic, who didn’t really acknowledge the holidays in the slightest except for Yule itself on occasion.

She straightened in her seat suddenly, not letting herself be deterred. “Using force to make these changes would only make people resent all these customs further.”

Tom pursed his lips silently then said. “That is why I am not doing just that this time around.”

With narrowed eyes, Rose scanned his face intently for any signs of sincerity but, like often, couldn’t read anything other than what he clearly wanted her to see. Her eyes then darted to the long line snaking away from the administration's desk, it was the reluctance to stand in it once more that had her asking.

“Are you worried about Grindelwald?”

“No,” was the prompt reply she received from Tom, an arrogant expression crossing his face. “I am at my fullest strength since first becoming a Dark Lord while Grindelwald has been rotting in Nurmengard for decades now. Add the man’s advanced age and that the majority of his previous following is either dead or allied to me— I feel confident in my ability to handle the man should he foolishly try to rise against me.”

Rose lifted a brow. “His advanced age shouldn’t count against him. Dumbledore himself proved to be an unrelenting thorn in your side for years and he and Grindelwald were the same age.”

Say what you will about Dumbledore and his dubious actions but there was no denying he had been powerful. Not only did he put one Dark Lord away but he was a big reason another struggled for so long to take over.

Tom’s face gave its customary twist at the old headmaster's name, before saying in a conversational tone. “I spoke to Bathilda Bagshot.”

A smile of open amusement broke out on Rose’s face as she lightly replied. “I figured you would.” She tilted her head absently and commented. “I’m surprised you haven’t let that cat out of the bag yet.”

Before Dumbledore had died Rose had had a run in with Bathilda Bagshot, a woman who knew Dumbledore in his youth. The older woman had recognized Rose, as most people often did thanks to her scar and the numerous news articles about her and her brother, and had been happy to tell her tales of the people she met over the years. The secret she spilled about Dumbledore was one Rose couldn’t believe at first and once she did she had been all but ready to spill the beans and let Dumbledore’s holy reputation be reduced to tatters. It was only the fact that her brother still thought highly of the man— despite his many flaws in Rose’s opinion— that had her not doing anything though.

No, instead she only let Dumbledore know she knew what skeletons were in his closet— mere hours before he died in fact.

She let it slip to Tom who she learnt the big secret about Dumbledore from before her seventh year and she had known without a doubt that he would go find answers— always needing to know everything.

“I’m waiting for the right moment,” Tom admitted. “Though I plan to do so soon as I imagine Dumbledore’s name and memory will be used to contest some of my upcoming plans.”

Rose gave a quiet huff that was quickly followed by a sigh as she looked over at the now somewhat shorter line, though it would most certainly get longer if she waited anymore.

Tom seemed to sense her thoughts as he stood then, straightening out his robes absently as Rose followed suit. “I’ll keep in touch,” he offered blithely. “And good luck with your future goal, not that I expect you need it.”

He got a smirk of agreement to his last comment before Rose headed off, papers in hand, to where the end of the shortest line could be seen. When she got there she glanced over her shoulder and watched Tom make his way out of the Administrative Services Department, nodding in greeting to whatever familiar faces he passed as he went.

She wasn’t as confident as he was about Grindelwald and the familiar feeling of a mixture of dread and annoyance was already stirring in her chest as Rose thought over what could possibly come in the following months.

Harry was going to get a lot more acquainted with the Ministry of Magic's halls and departments in the near future. In fact, he and Sirius were walking side by side through them at that very moment, offering the odd greeting here and there when they saw any recognizable faces. Honestly, Harry didn’t remember many of these people’s names, but their faces were at least vaguely familiar so that was something.

Sirius had planned for them to spend most of the day in the Ministry of Magic, which they had, even getting lunch in the cafeteria on the first level.

It wasn’t great food but Harry’s had worse.

Harry’s godfather was briefly showing him all the typical places that family Lord’s would wind up and why and when exactly they would be needed there. Harry wasn’t sure what he expected out of learning about the responsibilities and roles of a Lord but it was certainly more than he had realised. They hadn’t even gotten to the parts that take place outside of the Ministry, which Sirius said they would do tomorrow. It was after that that Sirius would go into depth about everything involved in each of these places.

It was already late in the evening, the time they normally ate supper not far off, and the two of them were in the process of going to Floo back home, Sirius having happily concluded their business in the Ministry for the time being.

Harry let out a heaving breath as the Ministry of Magic’s Floos fell into his line of sight, something that had Sirius laughing quietly. As Sirius called out their home address in a low murmur and the flames grew green, Harry readied himself for his upcoming faceplant and stepped on through.

The hardwood floors of the main parlour of Grimmauld Place rushed up to greet his face and Harry shot his hands out just in time to save himself a headache in the near future. He glanced up at the empty room and just finished pushing himself to a stand when Sirius came on through, a fondly amused smile on his face as he spotted Harry.

Other than a broom, magical means of transportation remained an impossibility for Harry.

“Follow me, Harry,” he cheerfully ordered, which Harry didn’t hesitate to do as they made their way up to Sirius’s home office.

This wasn’t a room either twin spent that much time in, wanting to respect Sirius’ privacy and understanding that their godfather only really spent time in here when it was important business.

It was a cozy place though, with dark wooden shelves stacked with boxes and various decorative knick knacks. Despite being a windowless room it was well lit, the lanterns hanging on the walls giving the room a warm glow that gave the tasteful red decor a welcoming feeling. Opposite of the door was a large oak desk with a tall-backed leather chair behind it and two others in front. Sirius’ desk had mostly writing tools on it, an assortment of quills standing tall and ready to use, an inkpot on the right side and as Harry took a seat in one of the chairs he saw that the single picture frame on the desk was one of Harry and Rose on their graduation day.

That had Harry smiling.

“Alright, Harry,” Sirius said as he plopped into his chair, a grin on his face. “Now that we did an overview of the Ministry side of things, and we'll cover Gringotts and such tomorrow, I just wanted to show you a bit of what I normally do at home.”

Harry sat straighter in his seat, very curious about what Sirius would always do in here.

Sirius twirled his chair around, pulling open a drawer built into the shelving unit behind him. Harry could see the little tabs of various folders from where he was sitting and lifted his brows at how many there were.

“I keep different folders for each of the different tasks I have on hand at any given time,” Sirius told him, looking back to check if Harry was paying attention. “With this Lord stuff it is better in the long run to keep organized. Remember that.”

With a grin at Sirius’ last note, Harry leaned over the edge of Sirius’ desk to get a closer look. He could make out the names on each of the little tabs now, some just what he would expect, others a bit of a surprise.

Banking. Wizengamot. Foundations. Marriage.

It was the last one that gave Harry a pause and he frowned. “Marriage?”

Sirius didn’t hesitate to pluck out the file as he spun his chair back around and Harry sat back in his seat, though dragging his chair closer to Sirius’ desk with a furrowed brow.

“These are all the marriage proposals and contracts that I get sent regarding you and Rosie,” Sirius told him honestly, opening the file and spinning it around for Harry to see. 

There were two slightly smaller folders inside, one with his name while the other had Rose’s

“Marriage proposals,” Harry repeated incredulously.

Sirius laughed quietly. “Welcome to the world of Purebloods,” he offered faintly. “Most Lords and Ladies are always looking to set up marriages to other families. It’s part of the business of it all.”

“Business? It’s family.”

With a frown, Sirius quietly said. “There are a lot of people who don’t see it that way— though they should.”

That didn’t sound right to Harry. How could someone look at their kids getting married as a business deal? Didn’t they want them to find someone they loved? Someone they wanted to spend their life with?

“Why do you keep them?” Harry asked, noting the papers he could spot inside the folders.

Sirius gave the files an absent pat. “Most can’t be destroyed, they’re designed in a way that they’ll stay active until the person in them either marries someone else or the Lord or Lady who designed it cancels it.” He glanced up at Harry and added. “They’re not something one should just throw away either. Don’t want it to land in the wrong hands.”

Okay— that made sense. His eyes turned back to the folders and he couldn’t help but note how much bigger Rose’s was in comparison to his own. He voiced the thought aloud and Sirius only nodded as if it was not that surprising.

“It’s the families who want ties to the Black family name that are more insistent about their goals in comparison to the Lighter families who know to stop sending proposals after the first no.” Sirius told him, his hands flattening out on top of the folders as he spoke. “Plus Rosie’s a girl and most Pureblood Lord’s probably think they can squeeze their male heirs into the position of Lord Black— not that that would happen.”

As Sirius spoke Harry tugged the folders closer to himself, opening his own and seeing a lot of names he didn’t recognize and a couple he did. He opened his sister’s next and noted that some names popped up as much as four times. Harry couldn’t wrap his mind around this, the fact that all these people— or all these people's parents— sent full-on marriage proposals to him and his sister when they never even spoke to some of them.

“What do you usually send in reply?”

“I send a note that says who you and Rosie wish to marry is your own choice and a formal decline of the proposal.”

Harry’s face twisted again at the whole thing, sitting back in his chair. He brought one foot up to the edge of the seat and wrapped both arms around it as he rested his chin on his knee, absently glad he wore jeans and a t-shirt today rather than the robes he was considering.

“How does all this work, exactly? Marriage in Pureblood circles?” Harry asked in a quiet voice, watching Sirius patiently.

Sirius closed both files and pushed them off to the side as he gave Harry his full attention. “The arranged marriages and betrothals all involve contracts.” He sat forward, elbows on his desk and his hands clasped together as he spoke. “It’s less about whether two people are actually in love and more about two families arranging a future marriage through a formal contract for two of their heirs. It’s seen as a way to tie families together and to help each other build a better legacy. Sometimes the kids are only a few years old when it’s decided who they will marry.”

“They get no say?” Harry interrupted at once.

“The way most Lords see it, it’s not the heirs' concern, and there are a good percentage of kids who accept that. It’s the way they were raised and their parents before them and their grandparents before them.”

Harry’s expression grew upset just listening to the very idea and asked. “How would they even know who was ‘free’ to be married? Especially when they’re that young.”

Sirius tilted his head minutely. “Pureblood circles are pretty small and it’s often known who is already betrothed and who’s looking and not looking.”

“So kids just know who they’re gonna marry before they even get to Hogwarts?”

“Some families don’t set up anything until their heirs are old enough to get their heirship ring,” Sirius replied before he gestured over to the files. “Which is when these started arriving.”

“Can the ones who get set up young date other people?”

Sitting back in his seat, Sirius said. “It used to be expected that both halves of the arrangement remain loyal to one another, which would mean no dating or fooling around with other people, but some only expect the girls to do that.” When Harry pulled a face, Sirius smiled sadly in agreement. “Nowadays it’s a bit of an unspoken rule that ‘as long as you aren’t open about looking elsewhere, we’ll be fine’.”

Harry nodded silently at that. He supposed at least that made sense, he still thought the whole thing was outdated and largely unfair to the kids. He found it strange that kids who had to do this would one day grow up to do the exact same thing to their own kids— did they not remember not liking it? Or were they just that committed to ‘family duties’?

“So— they just up and get married one day?”

“No,” Sirius said at once. “During the setting up of the marriage contract the families would agree on a set age for the two to be married by, sometimes even the date, and the year before that happens the two will enter an engagement-period. The girl gets a ring, plans for the wedding begin, the couple spends more time together— if they weren’t already— and discuss future plans; like where they’ll live and the kind of family the way to be seen as. The whole thing is usually kicked off after the engagement party, which is just the start of many social events the couple will attend.”

Harry frowned. “It all sounds so unromantic…”

Sirius laughed at that. “For the most part it is. Couples like Cissa and Lucius are a rare breed.” At Harry’s questioning look he revealed. “Cissa was arranged to marry Lucius after she turned sixteen but the two had already been in a relationship at that point and were already on the road to that direction. They genuinely do love one another.”

“What if they were set to be married to someone else?”

“They would have been forced to break up,” Sirius said outright.

The very thought had Harry downright outraged. He couldn't imagine someone coming along and telling him and Ginny to break up and marry some randoms after being together for so long already.

Noting Harry’s look, Sirius smiled sadly. “That’s the Pureblood life most of the time. Not all families do it that way,” he’s quick to point out. “Your grandparents wanted Jamie to find someone he loved, they declined any proposals he received too.”

“Well that’s good.” Harry muttered at once, somewhat mollified that the whole marriage concept wasn’t completely dry in the wizarding world.

“Don’t get the whole thing twisted up,” Sirius told Harry quietly. “As far as I know there are some arranged marriages that did turn out to have a lot of love in them. While most won’t acknowledge it, Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange are both very devoted to one another and neither one of them saw marriage as anything more than a familial obligation before their wedding.” He nodded absently to himself before adding. “Frank and Alice Longbottom had been arranged as well and the two had been very happy together.”

Ignoring the mention of the Longbottoms for the time being, Harry asked. “Isn’t Bellatrix like in love with Voldemort?”

Sirius snorted. “No, though I can understand why most would think that.” He allowed, waving a hand about. “Voldemort’s more of a God to Bella, odds are she’d never actually consider crossing that line. Might be sacrilege in her eyes.” He spoke the last part in a teasing whisper that had Harry huffing quietly in befuddled amusement.

“What happens after the wedding?” Harry asked then, his cheek pressing the top of his knee as he watched Sirius contemplatively.

“After the wedding the majority of the agreement that was made when they set up the marriage will have happened and those that haven’t would quickly be made a priority.”

“What exactly is in the agreement?” Harry pressed on in confusion. “I thought it was about ‘trying two families together’? Wouldn’t marriage do that?”

Sirius hummed quietly to himself. “During the start of the marriage contracts, or a betrothal, negotiations take place; what exactly each family expects of one another. Whether it was money, deals for future business ventures, how many heirs they’d expect with a guaranteed bare minimum.” He ticked off the fingers of his hand as he listed each one, Harry nodding along absently.

“What if they wind up not wanting to? Or what if a family doesn’t follow through with it?”

“Most contracts are hard to break,” Sirius said with a one shouldered shrug. “But the more caring of parents leave the option to cancel upon either parties wishes while the more cut throat would want a good reason. Proof of infidelity, failure to conceive, failure of either family's abilities to meet the agreed stipulations in the original contract.” He sat up suddenly, pointing at Harry with a serious expression. “A smart Pureblood will always leave himself an out when writing contracts though.”

“In case the family name crashes by the time it comes to the wedding day,” Harry assumed frankly, getting a pointed nod in affirmation. Harry let out a sigh, finally sitting up straight once more as he dropped his foot to the ground beside the other. “I’m glad that the Potters aren’t so stiff with old ways.”

Sirius grinned. “They didn’t do the whole betrothal thing but they still kept in line with some of the old customs,” he informed Harry amusedly. “Courtships were seen as a great thing by both your grandparents and father.”

“Courtships?”

Before Sirius could explain the term his eyes suddenly darted behind Harry and he was quick to spin around, spotting his sister at once in the doorway. 

Rose glanced between them before lifting a brow at Sirius. “You said you’d take us to a Muggle restaurant for dinner,” she reminded him in a pointed voice. Her words had them both checking their watches and they were surprised to see that it was well past the time they usually had supper.

Sirius was quick to stand. “Well, let’s get going then!” he cried with an enthusiastic clap of his hands, getting a fond eye roll from Rose while Harry stood to leave as well. 

With swift movements Sirius tucked away the folder from his desk and the twins laughed when he ushered for them to hurry along, as though either of them were the hold up for dinner.

Chapter Text

Rose eyed the decorative pieces that were hung up and placed around the main parlour of Grimmauld Place. She had gotten the story behind most of them from Sirius over the years and she had been as skeptical as he was when it came to certain tales. All of them had been collected by Sirius’ relatives, some dating back centuries, and you’d have to excuse Rose if she didn’t believe that the dark ornate looking egg was an actual Basilisk egg that was found in some ancient ruins.

Sirius admitted to having dropped the thing a couple of times and it didn’t so much as crack.

At the moment Rose was waiting for their guests to arrive, hands patiently behind her back all the while. Harry was still upstairs getting dressed and Sirius was going over some last minute details.

The flames flared with life, licking upwards eagerly, and the stark red hair of the Weasleys was the first thing Rose saw. 

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were the first to come in, the latter quick to wrap Rose up in a tight hug.

“Happy birthday, Rose,” she greeted happily.

As Rose gave a smile in thanks the twins stepped on through, bright grins on their faces as they chimed their own birthday greetings as one, and finally Ron, Ginny, and Hermione came through last.

“We’ll be eating in the formal dining room,” Rose took the time to tell them with a faint smile. “Ron knows the way.”

Ron grinned at her. “Happy birthday, Ro’,” he said, clasping a hand on her shoulder as he walked further into the house, his family following behind. Hermione stopped to give Rose a quick hug and a happy birthday while Ginny sent her a happy grin.

Rose didn’t have to wait long after the Weasleys had all left for Remus Lupin to step on through.

Remus was one of her father’s best friends, he and Sirius roommates with him all through their Hogwarts days, and since being reintroduced into their lives after their fourth year he made a point to try come by often enough. He taught Harry and Rose in their third year, that was when they learnt of his status as a werewolf, but after having quit his job he had vanished until Sirius got custody of them.

There was a fond smile on Remus’ face as he spotted her waiting and he softly offered his birthday greeting. He had two packages in hand that were wrapped a bit messily but Rose took them when handed nonetheless, smiling again in thanks.

“Where’s Tonks?”

Tonks was Remus’s wife of two years now and she was quite the character. With a very bold personality and a clumsy demeanor, she was a hard person to forget. Back when they were teenagers Remus and Sirius had been in a relationship and it always struck Rose as a bit weird that Remus was now dating Sirius’ younger cousin but the three adults seemed to think nothing of it so she’d hold her comments.

“She was feeling ill,” Remus told her as he stepped farther away from the fireplace. “She sends birthday wishes though.”

Rose only nodded once in understanding, not offering any other words as Remus headed upstairs to where the others were. He had been given the rundown— and even helped plan a bit— of Harry and Rose’s party by Sirius so he knew where they’d be eating tonight. His help mostly consisted of making sure Sirius didn’t cause himself any unnecessary stress.

A full time job really.

The last of their guests for the evening arrived together; that being Marcus Flint, Adrian Pucey and Graham Montague.

This would be the first time Rose would be seeing any of them since before her trip— though she did see Marcus during their time in France. 

The three were essentially Rose’s only friends from Slytherin back when she was at Hogwarts, though it hadn’t started out that way. In fact Marcus and Adrian very much did not like her in the beginning but she was pleased to say that she now considered all three of them to be some of her best friends.

They looked pretty much the same as always, the way all Purebloods from the more distinguished families did. Dark robes, sometimes with a splash of colour here and there, their hair combed neatly and their postures perfect. 

Marcus smiled when he saw her, his normally brooding expression traded in for a happier one. “It’s good to see you again,” he said as a way of greeting.

Rose laughed softly. “Back at you,” she offered honestly before she jerked her chin in a silent command for them to follow her. She began to lead them upstairs to where everyone else was waiting and Graham spoke up from behind her.

“How was your trip?” He asked, his voice turning teasing as he added. “Have you gone stir crazy yet from all the relaxing?”

Rose snorted inelegantly. “I plan to make up for it now that I’m back— and the trip was great. I’m glad I went.”

“Have you filled out the application for the Unspeakables yet?” Adrian asked next as they turned down a small hall. 

“I did,” Rose replied and before she could grumble about the long lines at the Ministry they came up to the mostly unused but not less extravagant formal dining room of their home.

Everyone was already seated around the table, Harry at the centre seat on one side of the table and he was quick to grin and point Rose to the seat across from him— much to her amusement.

The table was set up not unlike it would be at the Pureblood party’s they have been to— the ones that served food at least. There were decorative placemats in front of the chairs, utensils at the sides of it and ornate plates in the middle of them. Hanging directly above the table was an expensive looking chandelier and two matching candelabras stood tall and proud on the tabletop.

Sirius was at the head of the table, with Mr. Weasley on the opposite end; on their lefts were Remus and Mrs. Weasley, respectively. Ron and Hermione were across from one another on Harry’s left and the twins were on Mr. Weasley's right– George’s seat next to Ron. Ginny was on Harry’s other side and as Rose sat down Marcus slid into the seat on her left while Adrian sat next to him and Graham took the last seat on Sirius’ right.

Rose couldn’t help but fondly note Sirius’ rather proud expression as he surveyed the table and everyone in their seats. Her godfather didn’t hesitate to announce, “let’s eat then.”

The open space filled up at the words, food covering the area across the middle of the table much like it did at Hogwarts. Predictably Ron didn’t waste any time filling his plate, something that had Hermione huffing fondly from her seat on Rose’s right. After the plates were filled and the majority of them had made a sizable dent in their meals, Sirius spoke up.

“So, how have you three been?” He asked Marcus, Adrian and Graham.

The trio glanced over to meet Sirius’ expectant look and Marcus tilted his head to the side in thought. “I’ll be stationed more in London for the foreseeable future, which I’m fine with.”

“Where are you normally stationed?” Mrs. Weasley asked curiously.

“France,” Marcus didn’t hesitate to tell her. “For the last five years I’ve been stationed there most of the time.”

Mr. Weasley nodded to himself, already vaguely familiar with Marcus as they both worked with each other at the Ministry of Magic. They never spoke and were in different departments but one learned to recognize the other employees. “You’re part of the International Affairs Department.” 

“Mainly with the French section, yes,” Marcus replied.

Ginny eyed him with a curious expression. “Do you speak French?” She asked eventually.

“Yes,” Marcus said in turn. “My father worked a similar job to mine and had to learn the language and my mother was French. It’s a language that’s always been spoken frequently in my family.”

Marcus’s father had retired from his position in the Ministry not long ago, having decided to dedicate his time to the Flint title until Marcus was ready to be named the Lord of the family. 

Rose had been told by Marcus that his father never had quite the same love for the job ever since his mother had passed, her memory too tied into everything there considering it was how they met.

“It must be cool to speak another language,” Harry commented absently.

Ron shot him a look. “You can speak ‘Snake’.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t really count, it sounds like English to me. Plus there’s only like two other people who actually speak it too.” Now it was Rose’s turn to shoot him a look that made Harry huff. “Not that I don’t like talking to you, but that’s not the point.”

“Snakes don’t make good conversationalists?” Fred quipped with a raised brow.

“Jörmy’s really the only snake I’ve spoken to and he’s just way too sarcastic,” Harry told him before he gave his sister a pointed stare. “I blame you for that.”

Rose only smiled smugly at the remark.

George glanced over at Harry. “Have you ever spoken snake-like—”

“Parseltongue,” Hermione cut in impatiently, clearly having had enough of the improper name for the language.

“Yeah, that,” George said distractedly. “Do you ever speak it to Rosie— or You-Know-Who?”

The mention of Voldemort had Hermione stiffening in her seat but the rest of the table managed not to react too much to the topic at hand. 

Harry’s voice was thoughtful when he answered George. “Never to Voldemort—” he said, pointedly ignoring the flinch a few around the table gave at the name— “but I have to Ro’; but that’s only if we’re talking to Jörmy first.” He glanced around the table and spotted the mildly curious expressions. “I have a harder time turning it on and off than Ro’ does.”

Sirius glanced over at Adrian and Graham as the topic of languages appeared to reach its end. “What about the two of you? What have you been up to?”

In an offhanded tone Adrian revealed. “I was recently made an official partner at the company I’ve been working at.”

Adrian was extremely gifted in Arithmancy, so much so that he had an Apprenticeship set up for him before his graduation even. He had started immediately after he was finished at Hogwarts and met every expectation that awaited him— surpassed them even.

Sirius grinned at the news. “That’s fantastic!” He said happily. “It’s not often someone as young as you is made partner—” He paused a beat then narrowed his eyes. “How old are you again?”

“Twenty-one,” Adrian answered simply.

The reply had Srius raising his glass and he tipped it in Adrian’s direction in another silent congratulations before he raised a brow at Graham.

Graham, having always been the far more sociable of the Slytherin bunch, answered with a voice far more at ease than Marcus or Adrian had. “I’ll be starting my third year of law training soon. The last little while I’ve been dealing with the more paperwork side of things,” he told Sirius, his nose scrunching up briefly at the mere mention of the obviously tedious task.

He got a quick laugh and Sirius said. “Here’s hoping it gets more interesting a lot faster then.” Much to Rose’s amusement Graham was quick to nod his agreement to Sirius’s words. Now Sirius’ attention turned to the Weasley twins, offering them a glance as he asked. “How are your guys plans going?”

“Great!” Fred said at once, a proud grin on his face. “We found a building for our newest shop.”

“We’re negotiating prices right now and filling out some paperwork.” George chimed in with a cheery smile.

“We hope to have the key to the place by early September and open in October.”

Remus and Sirius had impressed expressions on their faces at the twins' now successful endeavour. The two themselves had been well-known pranksters back in their youth and were quite the role models for the twins.

“I’m certain it will be as big a success as your first shop,” Remus told them both earnestly, getting bright smiles in return.

Honestly, Rose full heartedly agreed with the man. The twins were two of the most determined people she had ever met and had never let anything stop them from pursuing their dream of their first shop; with the resounding success that venture had been she knew that they’d be even more determined for their next shop.

The attention turned back to the food for a brief moment, their conversationalist Sirius more focused on getting his fill at the time rather than pursuing more conversations.

Marcus was the one to take the lead after that, surprisingly enough, glancing over at Rose as he asked. “Do you know when you will hear back about the Unspeakables?”

With a frown, Rose murmured. “I’m unsure. From what I heard it’s a lengthy process.”

“Usually after applications they interview people around the applicant first.”

Rose’s eyes, as well as multiple other’s, darted over to Mr. Weasley when he spoke up. She was a bit surprised at this, her mind already beginning to drum up possible names of who they would speak to. She didn’t have to wonder on it too long—

“Two of them came to talk to me,” Sirius said helpfully and Rose shot him a look that screamed ‘and you’re just telling me this now?’. Which had Harry snorting quietly and a few others grinning. “I asked around,” Sirius added before Rose could glare at him anymore. “Apparently they talked to McGonagall and Snape as well.”

Harry snorted more loudly at the last name and gave Rose a look as he said. “I can’t imagine Snape of all people would give you high praise, but at least he can’t make you look bad considering you had top marks and didn’t really talk.”

“The not talking thing would be a point in your favour,” Fred chimed in.

George was nodding his head in agreement. “Yeah, since Unspeakables aren’t supposed to talk about what they do.”

With a purse of her lips, Rose said. “I’m not too worried about that, I’m only curious about what else the whole interview process involves.”

She didn’t like the vague answers she’s gotten so far, never happy with those kinds of results in general. She preferred facts. Irrefutable facts. It made it easier when she planned things ahead of time.

“I believe there is an interview with the applicant themselves as well as some kind of test of their knowledge,” Mr. Weasley offered kindly. “Though I’m not absolutely certain about that.”

Honestly, why hadn’t Rose spoken with him sooner?

While the answer was rather unsurprising, Rose was happy to at least have some kind of acknowledgement that she was thinking along the right lines as to what would happen.

Mrs. Weasley spoke up suddenly, her voice as cheerful as ever. “Should we do cake?”

Their plates had all long since been cleared, meals eaten and plates disappearing not long after that. Sirius was quick to jump up at Mrs. Weasley’s suggestion with an enthusiasm that had a few people smiling.

“Let’s do it! Kreacher, bring the cake!”

Between one blink and the next a large two tier cake appeared on the table between Harry and Rose. It was split in half in decoration but the flavour was no doubt the same— chocolate, the twins’ favourite.

Harry’s side was done up in a deep red at the base with gold accents while Rose’s was a deep green with silver accents. The sight had the birthday twins grinning at each other over the top of it. The two sat patiently as a chorus of singing broke out, Sirius waving his arms about like a conductor and as they blew out the candles they both found that they truly had no wish in mind as to what they wanted.

Everything they could possibly want was already a reality.

Remus was having a baby.

The news hadn’t actually been announced yet but when Remus had come over to panic about the idea to Sirius— and Rose had been reading in the library while the two had been standing on the staircase— the man’s worried words had reached her ears easily enough.

Rose wondered if it hurt Sirius to hear the news; in another life that could have been the two of them. Harry and Rose were Sirius’ kids right down to the blood so in reality he and Remus could have Blood Adopted a child to call their own if things had gone differently. Didn’t even need to go through the process of Blood Adoption even.

She didn’t bring it up though, deciding it would be best to wait until Remus felt okay enough to announce it officially.

Sirius had seemed to calm him down, reassuring Remus that he would be a great father and that he had help in Sirius and the twins, no matter what. Which was true. Rose would not call herself a baby— or even people— expert by a longshot but she’d try her best.

That conversation had happened a few days after their birthday— it seems Tonks’ illness had in fact been morning sickness— and now they were halfway through the second week of August.

Rose was once again at the Ministry of Magic. She had received a letter two days ago with a date and time for the next step in her Unspeakable Application. Her paperwork hadn’t taken nearly as long as Sirius had worried it would and Rose wasn’t sure if that was just because the administrators had been on the ball or because of who she was.

Either way she wasn’t complaining.

When she arrived she had been met at the Security Entrance by a man who she hadn’t recognised, though she knew who he was upon hearing his name. He was dressed in the same red robes with the embroidered U on the breast pocket that Rose had seen others in— the Unspeakable uniform obviously. 

The man— Unspeakable Greengrass— greeted her as soon as she was in front of him, following that with his name and a swift order to follow him.

Rose hadn’t taken any offence to the short— and to some rather rude— greeting, not one for small talk herself. It was somewhat common in these circles and half the time it was usually due to the fact that people were respecting her decision not to speak more often than not.

Mind you, she did speak frequently at home now as well as at the Weasleys or with friends. But Rose knew if she started to do so in Pureblood circles she’d be forever doomed to long and disinteresting conversations. As such she had been continuing to remain silent and no one expected anything from her beyond a nod in response to any greetings.

Unspeakable Greengrass was not the Lord of the Greengrass family, Rose remembered Daphne Greengrass’s father from various Ministry parties of the years, but rather the man’s younger brother. Somewhere in his mid thirties, he was apparently still unmarried and, if the rumours Graham had heard in the past were true, his affections were more aimed to his own gender than the opposite.

Rose had wondered when she first heard that fact if Graham kept an ear out for those who were like him for comfort in his own sexuality. Wondered if the boy ever felt envious of those who were fortunate enough to not be the first born of their family.

For the time being Graham had managed to avoid any engagements but that was only because his father wanted him to get a handle on his career before focusing on making a family. Rose knew he was dreading the day he’d have to find a wife.

The path that Rose was led through in the Ministry was not an unfamiliar one, though that was only because of Sirius taking her and Harry to hear the Prophecy of their supposed ‘ability’ to defeat the Dark Lord back before their fifth year. It was a longer trip on the golden lifts— the early hour making the place far busier than normal— and another mind dizzyingly wait in the spinning room, the experience just as unsettling and irritating as the last time.

The door and room Unspeakable Greengrass led her to this time was rather plain compared to her last visit. It looked much like any other Ministry official office around the edges. With tall bookshelves with an assortment of books and knick knacks littering their surfaces, some rather mundane landscape photographs hanging on the walls, the grass and clouds in them moving idily, and decorative curtains obscuring parts of the walls. 

It was the desk that was the biggest difference though, instead of the typical size the one in this room was about three times the normal size with four people behind it and a large open area in front of them to which Unspeakable Greengrass gestured for Rose to stand in the middle of before he took his seat.

The dark wooden floor seemed to echo as she stepped across it towards the centre spot and she wondered if that was done on purpose. It certainly added a more ominous air to this interview.

Rose recognized exactly one person there and that was Unspeakable Abbot, the same Unspeakable who had accompanied Rose, Harry and Sirius the first and only other time they had been down here. It was Unspeakable Abbot who first spoke.

“You’ve already met Unspeakable Greengrass,” he said with a gesture at him before pointing to himself and the others as he went. “I’m Unspeakable Abbot. These are Unspeakables Bode and Truman. You will be asked a series of questions all of which you will have to answer vocally.”

His words, had they been said by anyone else, may have sounded condescending or snide but to Rose they only sounded patiently expectant. It was the same way Sirius himself would talk when there was something he needed the twins to do but was aware that they very well may not want to. Not something that happened often but it was a sound that stuck. The thought made Rose acutely aware that the man in front of her had a daughter as well, one who was in her year in fact, Hannah Abbot.

Hannah Abbot had been in Hufflepuff and close friends with Susan Bones— Amelia Bones’ niece— from what she remembered. She was also pretty good friends with Neville Longbottom as well, one of Harry’s roommates in Gryffindor.

Rose only gave a single nod of understanding as she clasped her hands around her back, her one index finger and thumb beginning a silently tapping dance as she waited for them to start.

“Why do you want to be an Unspeakable?”

The words, much like her footsteps, echoed around the room, the bookshelves and curtains doing little to absorb the sound of their voices before they bounced off the walls. 

Chin tilting up slightly, Rose spoke in a cool but controlled tone. “Since I was a child I have enjoyed researching the things that interest me; something that has only increased since joining the magical world and starting at Hogwarts. It’s not a desire that stopped simply because I finished school and, from what little I’ve heard, becoming an Unspeakable is all about the exploration of a variety of topics.”

And on and on it went. The four Unspeakables in front of her took turns asking questions and they all wrote something down whenever she answered one. It was a mildly taxing experience but nothing worse than what Rose has already dealt with. 

Some were questions she was almost certain they’d ask.

“Where did you first hear of the Unspeakables?”

“I first heard of the Unspeakables and the Department of Mysteries when I was fifteen; my godfather brought my brother and I here and we were taken to the Hall of Prophecies.”

“Are you aware of the difference between confidentiality and keeping information from people?”

“Without a doubt.”

Other questions she felt she should have expected but hadn’t— not that expecting them would change her answers.

“Do you consider yourself someone who works well with others?”

“If the need arises, yes.”

“How well do you work independently?”

“Most of my interests are studied independently.”

“Would you consider yourself a sociable person?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Would you consider yourself an impressionable person?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“I have little interest in things that don’t strictly concern me; if there is something I don’t want to do then there isn’t much one could do to change my mind.”

Then there were questions that had Rose heavily wondering if her answers would be a point against her or in favour of her.

“What did you do between now and when you completed your schooling?”

“I traveled with my brother and godfather.”

“What made you decide to do that?”

“I never had the opportunity to travel as a child and since entering the magical world I have heard of multiple different magical locations that interested me greatly, so I took the time to go see them with my family.”

“What are your plans if you do not become and Unspeakable?”

“I would still study my interests on my own with my own resources.”

Maybe it was the room or the constant back and forth of words, but Rose couldn’t even begin to guess how long she had been here. She reasoned it couldn’t have been too long as she wasn’t unbearably uncomfortable in her standing position. Still it was a relief when Unspeakable Abbot said—

“Thank you for coming. We will be in touch again.”

Unspeakable Greengrass had stood once more as Unspeakable Abbot concluded the interview and gestured for Rose to follow him again, heading towards the door. 

The trip back up to the Ministry Atrium felt a lot shorter than the one down but it was a comfortably quiet one. When it came time to enter the lift though, Unspeakable Greengrass didn’t join her, instead offering her a parting nod as he watched Rose get inside and disappear from his sight.

Before reaching the Atrium Rose snagged a quick look at her watch and saw the lunch hour was about to start. As soon as she stepped out of the lift she headed towards the large fountain that stood tall and proud on one side of the room, just as she had planned out with—

“Rose.”

Spinning around at the familiar voice calling her name, Rose smiled faintly as she spotted Marcus' tall figure crossing towards her. He was dressed in his Ministry robes, now on his lunch break, his dark hair pushed out of his eyes and his stride confident. When Rose told him that she would be here he had asked her to wait by the fountain if she finished by lunch, saying they could get together to eat. Rose happily agreed as— other than her party— she hadn’t seen much of him lately.

“The cafeteria food here is subpar at best,” Marcus told her when he was close enough, a smirk on his face. “Let’s go eat in Diagon Alley.”

With a wave of the hand, Rose gestured for him to lead the way to the Floo Network and they were quick to weave through the few people starting to fill the Atrium. Thankfully the lines were still short at the Floo spot and soon enough Marcus was calling out the Leaky Cauldron as he tossed some Floo Powder into the flames. 

The Leaky Cauldron was a lot more packed, likely workers in the shops of Diagon Alley popping by for their own lunch hour. Thankfully this didn’t seem to be Marcus's ideal spot to eat as he led Rose towards Diagon Alley itself, the rough cobblestone street under her feet soon enough.

The streets were just as filled, the buzz of an assortment of conversations ringing around them both while the sun— a rare and appreciated sight around these parts— was shining heavily down upon them all.

“We should go to O’Malley’s Opal,” Marcus said as they walked down the street further into Diagon Alley. “Have you ever been?” 

Rose nodded silently; Sirius had taken her and Harry on the odd occasion. It wasn’t one they frequented though, for the same reason Rose figured Marcus liked the place— it was a rather upscale and fancy restaurant. 

Every time they went there Sirius insisted they dress in nice clothes, usually their more fancy wizarding robes, and honestly Rose actually really liked it. Harry on the other hand still had a distaste for the fancy clothing they own, citing them stiff and uncomfortable most of the time.

Marcus hummed in a pleased manner as he led them towards where the shop was located. “I just hope we can get a table, considering we don’t have reservations and it’s lunch hour.”

His worries were proven to be unneeded the second they stepped inside. The owner happened to be near the front of the shop and was quick to recognize Rose, more than happy to offer her and Marcus a table with a charming smile on his face all the while.

The fame was annoying most of the time but it had its advantages here and there.

O’Malley’s Opal was done up in an assortment of dark tones but with the kind of lighting that didn't leave it feeling dingy like the Leaky Cauldron often did. The dining area was large and open but a small staircase— the same one the owner led them towards— had a more private area that usually cost people a lot more to get seated at. The staff were all dressed in black and white robes that looked tasteful without being over the top while the tables were set in a perfect order with all the dishes and utensils matching and an ornate glass for each chair. 

After they both sat down and ordered their food Rose took a sip of her water and asked Marcus curiously. “Why are you stationed in Britain now?”

Marcus absently straightened out his utensils as he replied. “It’s done in tri-yearly periods. Each Ministry being considered the main point of operations in those time periods.” He glanced up at her as he leaned back in his seat more. “I travelled more frequently when I first started but after I was given a higher position I was working a lot more from the main office than anywhere else.”

“The base was in France when you got promoted,” she assumed quietly.

“Yes,” Marcus confirmed, grabbing his own water now and taking a quick sip. “They were about three months into that term period.” The topic was changed then as Marcus asked. “What are your plans now? Besides becoming an Unspeakable.”

Rose frowned briefly. “I don’t have much else in mind,” she said honestly, eyes darting to the tables around them before landing on Marcus again. “I’d like to join Harry and Sirius on certain outings of theirs; just to get a first sight viewing of the different responsibilities of family Lords.”

She knew a lot, had learnt a lot from Marcus, Adrian and Graham plus reading different books on the topics over the years, but if there’s one thing she learnt over countless different research binges it was that a lot of the time the practical application was not quite like the theory of the subject.

Sirius had been thrilled when she brought it up a while back and had since started letting her know ahead of time what he planned to do with Harry each time he took him out for the day and Rose already had the days in mind that she’d most like to join them.

Harry was just happy to have more company on what he found to be somewhat boring days.

With a faint nod, Marcus remarked. “We’ll be able to get together a lot more frequently now— not just us but Adrian and Graham as well.”

“Won’t they be busy with their work?”

“Graham’s hours are going to be a lot more nine to five these days plus he’ll have three days off of work each week for the next portion of his training.”

He moved his hands then— which had come to rest on the table while he spoke— as the waiter came by with their meals and the two of them fell silent as they waited for him to leave again. Marcus had gotten some fancy sounding meal with chicken in it while Rose had ordered a simple salad, always favouring light meals for lunch rather than big hearty ones.

Scooping up his fork and knife, Marcus went on, ignoring the interruption with ease. “And since Adrian was made partner he’ll be able to hire some assistants soon which will free up more of his time. Less tedious paperwork to deal with.”

Rose hummed quietly, rather pleased with this turn of events. She hadn’t been able to spend time with the three Slytherins this much since her early days at Hogwarts when they were all still in school together. Adding onto that, she wasn’t exactly a conversationalist back in those days— which the three boys always handled with ease— but still Rose appreciated the fact that she now had a more free range of changing topics if one came to mind.

“I’d like Terrence to join us now and again,” Marcus said with a quick glance at her reaction.

With a faint smile and a shrug, Rose didn’t voice any disagreement to the words. While she wasn’t as close with him as the others she was somewhat familiar with the boy and he was a quietly friendly type from what she remembered. He was Marcus best friend and had graduated at the end of her first year, but she had seen him a few times over the years, usually at some Pureblood soiree.

She opened her mouth to say something on the subject when Marcus suddenly started—

“Oh! Have you received your invitation yet?”

After graduating from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Draco Malfoy was no longer made to shadow the inner circle members of the Dark Lord’s army as he had been since he received the Mark during Yule break in his sixth year. It wasn’t typical for new Death Eaters to shadow the higher ranks but Draco’s father was an inner circle member— the highest of positions in the Dark Lord’s army— and an exception had been made.

To be perfectly honest Draco was relieved about not having to shadow them. Not all the Dark Lord’s most loyal were fans of his father and went out of their way to either steer him wrong or watch him fumble. Then there were the ones like his aunt— who, while leading him the right way, were fanatical about their Lord and made Draco nervous to be around. His father and godfather— Severus Snape— were the only ones Draco felt okay being around during those times.

His aunt Bella— or Bellatrix Lestrange as she was widely known— was not exactly the most sane of people. In fact, it was the years immediately following her escape from Azkaban that had her the most insane anyone had ever seen her. Bellatrix was a Black by birth and had succumbed pretty badly to the family curse; the Black Madness. He had to admit she was better these days, much to Draco’s mother’s— her sister’s— relief. The Dark Lord had gone to great lengths to bring her mind back up to par, and while she would never be completely free of the curse she was far better than she had been in decades.

Draco was now in the lower ranks and thankfully no longer under the close eye of the Dark Lord; which was a very good thing from what he has viewed so far.

These days he would be sent on various missions, though nothing too terrifying as the Dark Lord was taking the silent and unseen approach. It was not what Draco expected when he thought of the man's return but he had to admit that it was working. 

Shortly after his graduation word went around that the new up and comer Thomas Carrington— Draco’s former DADA Professor— was in fact the Dark Lord in disguise. It wasn't vocally talked about often but there were quite a few that were aware of this; those who knew how to keep a secret and knew who else could be trusted to do so as well. Carrington had been making quite a name for himself and had even Light Lord’s happily praising his name. The Dark Lord’s sphere of influence was surely spreading and the stupid Light side remained unaware as to just who they were supporting. 

The missions Draco was given were more about gathering information or scouting out future joiners. The odd time he and his team were sent out to retrieve something from someone but those missions were more often given to the more experienced Death Eaters.

His team— the most regular one at least, though it changed from time to time— was Crabbe and Goyle (Draco was relieved to have familiar faces), plus another guy who was rather cagey about his name, and the ‘leaders’ were Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole. Two boys who had been at Hogwarts when he was a first year.

Despite his lack of danger in the missions he was given it didn’t stop his mother from worrying. Which was why he was somewhat glad to get his engagement for his betrothal to Astoria Greengrass started.

Astoria was a year younger than Draco and the second and last heir to the Greengrass family. Her older sister Daphne was the same age as him. Draco’s father arranged a betrothal with the Greengrass family when he was only five and he had long since known that one day he would get engaged to and then marry the girl.

Draco was relieved that his mother would get a reprieve from her worrying about him as she focused on wedding plans and such.

He couldn’t deny that he was somewhat relieved to still have his betrothal. Though he had been almost certain that the Greengrass’ wouldn’t pull the contract there was still a small part of him that worried that his ‘fall from grace’ would take the shine off being married into the Malfoy family for either of the Greengrass sisters. Really, Draco should have known that being knocked to the bottom of the Slytherin Hierarchy, the very foundation of life in Slytherin’s House at Hogwarts, in his school days wouldn’t be enough to take the shine off his father’s impressive reputation.

Throwing himself into making his background far more impressive has been his goal since then. After leaving school Draco focused on doing his missions well and learning about his role as the future Malfoy Lord more intimately. He shadowed his father (while waiting for Astoria to graduate herself) and got more familiar with the investment ventures and family business that he would one day need to upkeep.

He wasted no time in starting the engagement period of his betrothal, proposing in the middle of August, and his mother had been thrilled to send out invitations for an engagement party that would take place at the end of the month. Draco’s pretty sure she’s been planning the event since the betrothal had been first set up.

“Draco, dear, are you paying attention?”

Starting slightly, though hiding the fact with ease, Draco glanced towards his mother. She was sitting across from him in their family room, books open between them as she went over wedding details with him. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a low bun with a few strands framing her face and the expression on her face was a bit pinched at his distraction but Draco doubted anyone but he or his father would notice.

Sitting up straighter, Draco remarked. “Doesn’t the bride’s family normally plan the wedding?”

His mother frowned. “I know, I would just like to be able to send over some options.”

Draco made an effort to withhold any further comments, not wanting to upset his mother, and changed the subject. “How is the guestlist for the engagement party looking?”

With a pleased smile, his mother quickly moved her hands over the papers between them before she snagged one and handed it to Draco across the table. He eyed the names on the list, not all that interested, and a lot of the names were ones he expected. Numerous Pureblood Lords, some past students from Hogwarts that he couldn’t care less about, a familiar bitterness creeping up on him in regards to their willingness to shun him at Potter's command.

Speaking of which—

“The Potter twins are invited,” Draco said without thinking, eyes stopping on the two names.

His mother gave him a reproachful look. “Of course they are. They’re family.”

“Hardly.”

Now his mother’s face grew stern, her grey eyes locked on him with a look that said not to argue. The fact that he was nineteen, an adult now, did little to save him from being scolded by his mother. “They are Sirius’ children by blood. Sirius is my family and just as my child is his family, his children are my family and therefore yours as well.”

Draco couldn’t stop his scowl even if he wanted to. “The Gryffindor-Potter and I have been enemies for the entirety of our Hogwarts years and—” his voice grew far more pointed now “— the Slytherin-Potter stole my spot in the Hierarchy and exiled me for my final two years in school.”

“Both of which were things of your own doing,” his mother said at once, reaching out to take the guestlist from his hand. “You went out of your way to bother the Potter twins when neither of them wanted much to do with you and Rose Potter got her spot in the Slytherin Hierarchy long before you attempted to take the position. The fact that she had a loyal following is not a fault but rather a credit to her deservingness of the head spot.”

Draco didn’t reply; his mother’s tone was not one that was used often but when it was it was never wise to try and argue with her. 

Perhaps it was childish to still hold onto his grudges but he found himself unable to let go. He had long since envisioned his final Hogwarts years, imagining being the same as his father was in his own youth, only to be usurped by a Potter of all people in the end. The fact that she was also a Black was little comfort.

“The party will be the first of many steps you will take to become your own man. One independent of your childhood family while you start a new one of your own. This is the time to start making your mark as the future Lord Malfoy,” his mother said, tactfully dropping the previous topic. “As such, I expect you to treat all of your guests with the same respect and dignity as your father and his father before him would.”

The tone in his mother’s voice and the look on her face when she said that had Draco gathering every ounce of his self control the night his engagement party finally arrived.

It was exactly how everyone expected a Malfoy soiree to be done; with the highest quality decorations and entertainment. An instrumental band was on an elevated structure on the west side of the room, playing music that was slightly muffled to the east side of the room in order to allow conversation for those who would prefer that.  Plenty of Draco’s old Slytherin classmates were in attendance as well as a few from Ravenclaw but he didn’t particularly care about them. 

Draco was wearing some of the finest robes money could buy and at his side was his fiancee, dressed in breathtaking blush-pink dress robes with her hair pinned up and not a strand out of place.

“Draco.” He glanced over as Astoria’s father, Hadrian Greengrass, was nearing the two of them with a faint smile on his face. “I hope you will not mind if I steal my daughter for a dance or two.”

With a polite smile at his soon-to-be father-in-law, Draco said, “of course not.” He curled his free hand around where Astoria’s was tucked into the inner part of his elbow and held her hand out to the man.

He watched as the two drifted off, a happy smile appearing on Astoria’s face as her father murmured something to her.

Over the next year or so— the rest of his life actually— Draco would be spending a lot more time with the younger girl. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t spent any time with her before, knowing what future awaited them they always made some form of small talk at parties over the years.

Unlike her sister Daphne, Astoria was far warmer; or as warm as Slytherins could be. Daphne was cold and at times dismissive, so determined to not let her status as a woman hold her back from what she sought out to achieve that she made sure people didn’t think of her as anything other than the heir to a noble family. Astoria on the other hand was gentler, brilliant no doubt about it, and always wanted to get married; to have a family of her own and home to take care of.

The two sisters wanted very different lives but neither of their envisioned futures had ever put a strain on their relationship in any way, quite the opposite actually. 

Daphne had always made it abundantly clear to Draco that if he didn’t ensure her sister lived a happy and fulfilled life with her dream family and home then she would make his life hell. Astoria was always the first to snap when any of the more misogynistic Purebloods tried to put Daphne down as just another girl playing as a man or if they implied in any way that she wasn’t fit to run the Greengrass name one day.

“You enjoying your party?”

Turning on his heel, Draco wasn’t surprised to see Blaise Zabini approaching him with a glass of champagne in hand. He was dressed in dark robes with a red tinge to them. It was that coupled with his deep complexion made the whites of his teeth stand out even more so.

Blaise and Draco weren’t necessarily friends , or at least not like some Purebloods could be, but they had been friendly most of their lives. They knew exactly what to expect out of each other and it led to the kind of comradery that wasn’t easy to find. Had Draco’s plans for his final years at Hogwarts gone the way he wanted he imagined the boy would have been one of the inner house members of Draco’s hierarchy.

As it were, the two of them drifted apart when Blaise stopped speaking to Draco almost entirely near the end of their fourth year, favouring the company of the older Slytherins in school and then just a select few both in and out of their House in their final year.

Draco was unable to resist the snide question that left his lips. “Are you talking to me again?”

The boy had been living in his mother’s home country— Italy— since graduating and from what Astoria had mentioned he had recently returned to Britain earlier this month. 

“The party is certainly living up to all the others your family hosts,” was Blaise’s reply as he gestured around absently with his half empty glass. He was unperturbed by Draco’s admittedly childish behaviour, always had been really, never one to be concerned with others being displeased with him. 

Letting out a breath and clenching his jaw in an effort to steel his emotions, Draco looked down at his own glass and drained the last of it in one shot. 

Blaise eyed him carefully and he calmly said. “You have no right being displeased.” 

Drago looked up at him sharply. “No right?” he retorted, his words clipped and bitten off.

“Yes,” Blaise replied evenly, sipping at his glass and darting his dark eyes around the room absently. “I did what I needed to do in order to remain in a good standing within the Slytherin Hierarchy— just as anyone else would have.”

“You let Potter of all people exile me.”

Open exasperation painted Blaise’s as he shook his head. “You didn’t want to see it, Draco. So confident in your own standing and focusing on irritating the Gryffindor Potter that you failed to notice the changing tides long before our sixth year.”

Draco turned his head away, eyes trailing over the crowd around them only so he didn’t have to meet Blaise’s heavy stare. It was with barely concealed disdain that he spotted the twins in question, both engaged in some idle conversation with his mother. 

He was mostly irritated at the truth in Blaise’s words. Looking back, he could see that it wasn’t just Blaise who started to distance himself in their fourth year. Pansy Parkinson— someone Draco would also consider a friend in their year— and her two lackeys did as well. Oh she stuck around in his peripheral obviously, the fact that she wanted to try to slide into the position of Lady Malfoy a big factor, but she wasn’t as eager to offer insults about either Potter after fourth year; at times even leaving all together when Draco was on a steady roll.

Fifth year should have been a clearer sign as well, when the Greengrass sisters and even Theo Nott, joined the little Defence Club Potter started— the same one Blaise had also been in.

“Perhaps your exile was a blessing in disguise.”

Blaise’s comment had Draco focusing back on the conversation at hand and he shot him a sour look.

He got a half-hearted shrug. “You were marked that year. If you had to deal with keeping control of the hierarchy along with figuring out how you would make a name for yourself as a Death Eater you likely would have collapsed under the pressure.”

“I would not have.”

Now Blaise shot him a look, though his was far more condescending in Draco’s opinion. “You aren’t exactly someone who has been delivered a lot of challenges. Too much all at once would have most certainly been overwhelming.”

To Draco’s faint relief he was saved from having to give any kind of response when Pansy approached, surprisingly void of her usual tails of Millicent Bulstrode and Tracey Davis— the two were forever shadowing the girl at parties. She looked the same as ever to Draco, with a faint smirk curling her mouth and her eyes sharp, looking for the faintest sight of doubt or fear in the people around her. She was adorned with pretty dress robes and her hair had a simple diamond clip on one side.

“Draco. Blaise.”

Her greeting was a relief, though Draco wouldn’t admit that to anyone. He had half wondered if Pansy would begin avoiding him or shun him all together now that her dream of being Lady Malfoy just got further out of reach. While she was only around him most of the time to achieve that goal, Draco still considered her to be a good friend. He spoke with her outside of school during his exile and frequently since graduating, always finding conversation to be entertaining with her. They had known each other since they were kids, as was the story for pretty much all Purebloods, and Draco felt they had a great relationship— just not the kind Pansy always wanted.

“So, who will you set your sights on now that Draco is engaged?” Blaise asked her with a raised brow.

The question didn’t faze Pansy in the slightest as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and scanned the room. “Perhaps Nott,” she mused as she looked around. “His father is an inner circle member and he’s the only heir. Montague is a lone heir as well. Pucey is appealing though he’s second in line.”

Blaise snorted quietly. “The last two would most definitely not go near you considering they are both best friends with Potter.”

Draco watched Pansy’s face spasm at the mention of Rose Potter, her lips twisted in an odd mixture of fear and distaste. “Nott doesn’t seem to be following in his father’s footsteps in terms of joining the ranks,” he chimed in, ignoring the expression in favour of steering the topic in another direction. “I heard that despite Tiberius Nott’s insistence Theo has yet to be inclined to join.”

“Maybe he will soon,” Blaise commented while Pansy still eyed the people around them contemplatively. “The reason his grandfather stepped aside was apparently because the Dark Lord went mad.” His voice dropped to a low murmur while Draco and Pansy leaned in closer. “If what we’ve seen and heard since His return is true then apparently he is far more in control of himself.”

Draco had to work hard to not have his face twist up much like Pansy’s had earlier. 

The Dark Lord had yet to show his more youthful visage to the masses of his followers and Draco had ensured he kept a lid on what he got to witness while shadowing the inner circle.

Thankfully the topic was changed again when Blaise asked Draco how he proposed.

Barely resisting his urge to sigh, Draco— for the umpteenth time— began to retell the evening he officially asked for Astoria Greengrass hand in marriage. It wasn’t a grand tale, in fact it was much like most other proposals as far as Draco had heard. He did it at a high end restaurant in magical Britain in a private room with roses and candles that filled the place.

“Well doesn’t that sound downright Lucius Malfoy-ish.”

The three of them turned at the sudden voice and spotted Sirius Black stepping up behind them, just finishing shaking someone's hand with an absent mind as he moved closer to Draco. Not far behind him were the Potter twins, both dressed in robes just as expensive as Black’s himself. Black went on speaking in a carefree manner. “I remember Cissa’s tales of her engagement. Roses and romance that anyone would envy.”

Draco smiled politely, if not stiffly, at Black, his mother’s constant reminders on how he was family— as well as those twins of his— ringing in his ears.

“Do you have any plans on getting married soon, Lord Black?” Blaise asked conversationally.

One could practically see the spark of cunning lighting up in Pansy’s eyes. While she most certainly wanted to avoid marrying some old man that her father would choose, that was strictly aimed at the old, fat and wrinkled ones. Something Black was far from. Even with his years in Azkaban there was no doubting Black was a more appealing sight, with dark hair, pale skin and sharp, alluring features.

Pansy’s hopes were quickly crushed as Black said. “Marriage is not anywhere on my plans.” An easy grin was on his face, so expressive in comparison to most Purebloods. 

With an easily accepting nod, Blaise turned his question to the Potter twins instead. “How about you? Are you still dating the youngest Weasley?”

“Yeah but I’m not planning on getting engaged anytime soon. Me and Ginny both have other things to focus on first.” Harry Potter said in reply, waving a dismissive hand as he spoke.

Rose Potter only shook her head as Blaise glanced towards her, her own gaze more focused on the room at large than them.

Apparently deciding he mingled enough, Black shot Draco a charming smile. “Congratulations on the engagement. May your marriage be as fulfilling as your parents’.” Draco gave off a distracted nod of thanks, mostly focused on eyeing the Potter twins. He watched as the she-Potter suddenly tapped Black's arm and made a vague gesture that had Black nodding just before she headed off. With a parting hearty clap on Draco’s shoulder, Black said. “I won’t hog all your time.”

Just as quick as the trio joined them, they left, the two Gryffindor’s moving in a different direction than Rose Potter had. The three Slytherins glanced towards where the latter went off to and quickly spotted her by Marcus Flint, the older man speaking to her with a smirk on his face.

“I wonder whether or not those two will enter a courtship.”

Pansy gave a half-hearted scoff at Blaise’s musings, but eyed Flint steadily, the cogs clearly turning in her mind as she considered the lone Flint heir. The sound of her name being called turned her attention elsewhere and with a brief parting word she left as well.

Blaise followed her lead as he spotted an older group of Purebloods approaching Draco. “Good luck,” he murmured as he went and Draco withheld a sigh as he prepared to endure the rest of the party that a few short years ago he would have been all but preening at— always having been someone who loved being the centre of attention.

Maybe he would go ask Astoria to dance soon, at least then he’d have a break from the same inane questions.

Chapter Text

Far away in early September, in some remote part of Germany, there was a room occupied by only one person. Sat in front of a fireplace, its flames licking up at the air and engulfing the room with a warm embrace, was a man in an old armchair. He sat in silence with a hand pressed against his mouth, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fireplace, and the air was rife with anticipation. A pop sounded and a small house-elf appeared next to the end table beside the man’s armchair.

“Master, your tea.”

“Thank you, Tilly,” a voice still hoarse with disuse muttered before silently waving the elf off. 

Gellert Grindelwald was far from battle ready at the moment, though he had been getting steadily stronger since his escape. He was unable to pursue any official Healers as his face was currently plastered all over the magical and Muggle world as a wanted criminal. As such he has had to brew his own potions and ointments to help him heal.

With a trembling hand, Grindelwald reached for his tea, taking a small sip and letting the hot beverage warm his chest. He ran his tongue along the newly regrown teeth in his mouth, years imprisoned and far from proper hygiene had caused him to lose most of them.

He was slow to reach out to his old followers— a large sum of which were either dead or following the new Dark Lord who rose in his absence. 

Grindelwald had many plans and he had plenty of time to think them over. Ever since news reached him of Albus’ passing, and there were still days he didn’t completely believe it, he had been counting the days. 

The first of his plans had heavily relied on the British Ministry of Magic’s ignorance or lack of preparedness in the suddenness of Albus’ death and Albus’ distraction with the newest Dark Lord that the masses didn’t want to believe had returned.

His once friend had set up a great deal of the runes and wards surrounding Numengard himself after Grindelwald’s defeat and as those who were skilled enough would know, if the wards weren’t reinforced by someone new then they would slowly weaken in the years following the death of those who erected them. Grindelwald had bided his time, had listened carefully as the only sound that could reach his ears were the crashing of waves nearby and the staggered appearance of a house-elf delivering his meals before quickly vanishing. 

His patience proved fruitful and eventually the protections fell just enough to make the runes that rendered his magic useless in his cell weakened to almost nothing and a small gap appeared in the wards keeping him trapped in place. Grindelwald wasted no time in taking his chance and vanished, leaving behind his once beloved home-turned wretched prison without a backward glance.

He spent most of his time travelling, his years locked away with his magic bound had left him severely out of practice— not to mention being wandless— but he managed to keep himself going until he reached a remote magical home that he knew would be vacant after all these years. It had once belonged to his father but now was in his dear Aunt Bathilda’s name though he knew she’d never leave Godric’s Hollow.

He stayed there for a few short weeks before tentatively using the Floo to one of his safe houses that was more guarded and prepared for his return, immediately dismantling the Floo upon his arrival. Which was where he was still , having not ventured out into the world for a thing, instead focusing on solidifying his plans.

He wanted the Elder Wand first and foremost. Albus had had it last and according to what he found he died of a curse he stumbled upon. The wand magic was tricky, in order to take ownership of it one needed to disarm the previous Master and things like curses and hexes on third party objects wouldn’t cut it; it wasn’t close enough for the Wand to sense the transfer of Masters.

This meant as of now, the Elder Wand had no Master, something Grindelwald would gladly rectify as soon as he had a solid plan on how to do just that.

Albus, of course, had been buried on the Hogwarts grounds, which made getting the Wand that much tricker. Grindelwald didn’t want to have any battles quite yet, his first battle— his great return— would be an unforgettable one. A successful one that would strike fear into the hearts of those who dared to forget about him. His venture to get the Elder Wand wouldn’t have this kind of impact. While striking at the school would be a powerful move it was also an impractical one. Hogwarts had formable wards that, even at multiple Dark Lords’ strongest points, had been impenetrable. To stage a battle there would only be a partially won one at best, which was not what Grindelwald wanted. It wouldn’t send the message he wanted to send. So gathering his Wand would be a covert endeavour and once he had it his true battle would begin.

He also needed to build his following more. 

It wasn’t nonexistent, not at all, Grindelwald had his most loyal all of whom patiently awaited his return. His Acolytes who were set apart from the rest of his Alliance, most of whom laid await somewhere in Germany, at the ready for when he called them. They were the ones gathering information for him, looking to recruit new followers and poach ones from this ‘Voldemort’ who lay in the shadows the Britain Ministry sat blind to. 

Grindelwald would have to deal with him too. Two Dark Lords never called for good things and he knew both of them would be too stubborn to settle for co-leaders once they truly took over. 

Yes— Voldemort would be his greatest obstacle now and Grindelwald was sure he’d make his presence more known once he himself had done the same. He was planning on swaying one of the man’s ‘inner circle’ as from what he’s learnt those were the one with most information. Those were the ones who sat at the man’s table and planned missions with him.

Another tentative obstacle that Grindelwald was unsure of was the supposed Twins-Who-Lived . He was curious about them, and had been since news first reached him of two infants who survived the Killing Curse, resulting in the supposed death of a Dark Lord who had been inches away from taking control of Britain. He would wave it off as something the parents did rather than either child’s supposed ‘power’, except his sources said that Albus had gone to great lengths to keep the two in his sphere of influence.

With a snort to himself, Grindelwald recalled word of the two distancing themselves from Albus and leaving him to dwindle in the wind as Albus tried to warn everyone of Voldemort’s return. 

Nevertheless, he would look into the pair— if only to cover all his tracks at the very least, never one to dismiss a threat altogether. He already had someone out gathering information for him to go over.

“My Lord.”

Grindelwald peered over his shoulder and saw one of his oldest followers standing in the doorway, head bowed respectfully, still so loyal after all these years. At his side was his son, far younger but no less loyal, both ready for whatever Grindelwald asked of them.

A faint smirk pulled at his lips and he gestured silently to the chairs nearest to him. “Tell me what you have learnt,” he ordered as soon as the pair sat down, watching them with a dark expression.

The uppermost floor of the Ministry of Magic was fairly crowded at this hour. An unsurprising thing given it would soon be lunch and those who didn’t want to venture out for a meal would often simply grab a bite to eat at the Ministry’s cafeteria. Rose would much rather be in a restaurant with far more— and far better— options but she was meeting with Hermione and the girl didn’t want to leave the Ministry. 

Today was the day Hermione started her internship, much to her enthusiasm, and Rose had, exactly one month after her interview, had the evaluation process of her Unspeakables Application today. She had asked Hermione if she’d like to have lunch if she got out on time and Hermione had readily agreed, telling her she’d be in the cafeteria through the lunch hour and that she’d save her a seat.

Honestly, Rose was glad she had been able to make it, with only ten minutes into the lunch hour starting. She eyed the numerous people as she waltzed in before scanning the spacious and well lit room. 

The ceiling was all glass and given it was the top floor that was an appealing quality. Today the clouds outside were dark and gloomy but on the nice days it made this room a pretty sight— if you ignore that it was a cafeteria. There were Ministry workers seated throughout the place at the various tables scattered around the room. Their robes, different colours based on the departments they worked in, were the only things that set them apart. 

The deep red coloured robes of the Unspeakables were the first Rose noticed, easily recognisable after her time in the Department of Mysteries, and the dark coloured robes of the Ministry’s Aurors here and there. Rose didn’t know all the departments though she could see green and blue robes with the same cut and designs as the previous two she noticed so they must’ve been from a specific department. 

Her attention was called via a hand waving eagerly through the air and Rose smiled as she spotted Hermione, her mind taking her back to their school days when the girl desperately wanted to answer a question she knew the answer to. The table she was at was small, a simple square with a chair on all four sides, only one of which was occupied while the one across from Hermione was pushed out, awaiting its own occupant. On the table in front of it was a plate of food that Hermione apparently got Rose, something that had Rose smiling fondly.

She took a seat with a brief glance at Hermione’s identical meal, though hers was partially eaten. “How was your day so far?” Rose asked as she started to eat her own meal.

Hermione’s eyes lit up as she took a quick sip of her water. “It’s mostly what I expected! I’m getting a good idea of the layout and the quickest ways to get to and from certain places. I’ve been delivering the occasional drinks and more sensitive paperwork that they don’t want sent through means of magic, as well as personal mail that some get delivered to the Ministry.”

Letting out a sudden gasp that made Rose’s brows flick up, Hermione said. “Guess who I ran into?” Rose didn’t have time to even offer up a guess as Hermione gave the answer just as quick as she asked the question. “Professor Carrington!” Rose hummed quietly around her food and Hermione corrected herself. “Well, Mr. Carrington now, since he’s no longer a professor. I knew the man had been the Minister’s Undersecretary but apparently he’s really making a name for himself.”

“Have you spoken with him?”

“Yes, briefly,” Hermione revealed, pausing long enough to sip at her water again. “He was kind enough to show me the trick to sorting through the bigger piles of files and which people are more impatient when it comes to getting their mail and papers.”

“How nice,” Rose commented in vague amusement that immediately had Hermione tilting her chip up stubbornly.

“It was,” she stated though the seriousness in her words was betrayed by the lingering humour slowly but surely curling her mouth into a smile. “How did your evaluation go?”

Rose couldn’t exactly offer as much details as Hermione did about her morning, or she could but she knew Hermione wouldn’t want to hear it, more than likely not wanting to know anything she technically shouldn't know when it comes to her now-employers.

“It was fairly straightforward and a nice challenge.”

She had been taken to a different room though it had the same general vibe. There weren’t four Unspeakables with her this time, just one who stood at the doorway watching her work. Her task had been a puzzle essentially. She had been given a box as well as a piece of paper that offered a few basic bits of information. There had been no warnings about protections on it but Rose casted detections on it nonetheless and found a few wrapped tightly around the box. 

The box itself had been tricky to open, with various attachments that halted one move but opened new ones and Rose spent a good amount of time studying all of them before moving forward. When she got it open there had been a simple locket inside, this one locked just like the box.

The entire trial led to Rose getting an almost miniscule lump of clay with the order to create something without use of her wand, a simple enough task really as they said nothing about not using magic; just that she couldn't use her wand.

“What happens now?” Hermione asked, drawing Rose from her memories.

Rose shrugged one shoulder. “Now I wait.”

“How long?”

“It could take a minimum of three months and a maximum of twelve months for the hiring committee to make a decision,” Rose told Hermione, the Unspeakable who met with her today informing her of that fact after she finished.

Hermione’s eyes went wide at the answer and her brows furrowed as she murmured. “I would be terribly nervous if I had to wait so long for an answer… What will you do till you get an answer?”

With a smile at Hermione’s first comment, Rose said. “I’m not too worried and I think I’ll join Harry in shadowing Sirius for a while.”

It would be a good way to spend time and keep her distracted for the time being— hopefully.

“That should be interesting,” Hermione remarked positively and she hesitated for a second. “... would you teach me a bit about it when you feel you have a good understanding of everything?”

Letting out a soft laugh, Rose promised. “Of course.”

As Rose finished off the last of her lunch she took the time to take in Hermione. The girl was dressed in more high-end robes from what Rose could tell and her hair was pulled back out of her face, the bushy-ness of it still somewhat apparent. She knew Hermione well enough by now to know that she would carefully plan out every aspect of her career starting now. Part of that included how she wanted to be seen, which was likely why she went out to buy more expensive robes despite being someone who typically didn’t care about such things. 

The comfortable silence the two girls had fallen into was broken when Hermione suddenly gasped again.

“Oh! Bill and Fleur are expecting a baby!”

What? Rose wasn’t expecting that. She silently noted that their baby would be born around the same time as Remus’. “Do they know when the baby will be born?”

“The beginning of May sometime,” Hermione told her. “Though they don’t have an exact date just yet. I was speaking to Fleur and based on when she’s pretty sure they conceived, the beginning of May is my own personal guess.”

Nodding silently, Rose half wanted to laugh at Hermione’s need to work out exactly when the baby would arrive. “Mrs. Weasley must be pleased.”

Merlin knows the mother of seven was always eager for grandchildren and for her children to start families of their own. 

Hermione nodded emphatically. “She is. Fleur only told the family just last night and Mrs. Weasley was already starting to knit baby clothes and blankets.”

With a laugh at that, Rose commented. “You stayed at the Burrow last night?”

“Yes, Mr. Weasley offered to show me the way most Ministry employees get to work, through the Floo and signing in and all that.”

“That’s nice of him,” Rose murmured, knowing Hermione probably would have been a bundle of nerves coming in, the worries of being unfamiliar with something always having her extra stressed.

A faint dinging had both of them looking up and Hermione shot Rose an apologetic look. “That’s the ten minute warning for the end of lunch.”

“I won’t keep you then.”

Hermione was always someone who would rather be early than right on time. 

She was already standing, curling a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you for joining me, we should do this more often now that you’re back.” She gave Rose a swift but tight hug and Hermione was off, joining the crowds of workers heading back to their departments for the remainder of their afternoon. 

Rose glanced down at their empty plates, Hermione’s cup and utensil stacked on her own and Rose drained the last of her water before doing the same. She watched curiously as all of them disappeared in a flash. 

Glancing at the large clock on the wall, Rose stood, not wanting to linger any longer— Merlin forbid anyone attempted to strike up a conversation— and decided to head home. She was tired of being around people for the time being and more than eager to tell her brother and Sirius all about her morning.

One would think being a fully grown adult— one who was now twenty-two years old— who was just made partner of the company he spent the last three years working at would have Adrian Pucey’s parents taking a step back in hovering over his decisions but evidently not. In fact in the wake of being made partner his parents have been quick to insist he get married now; citing now that he had a name for himself it was only logical to do so.

They were also quick to point out that his brother Nathaniel was already two years into his own marriage with Olivia Shardlow and expecting the first of the next generation of Puceys.

Today he was in his parents’ manor at the dining room table with only his father and older brother Nathaniel, having been invited for dinner earlier in the week. His mother was with Olivia at his brother’s which was a bit of a plus in Adrian’s mind since it would just be his father he’d have to deal with while he was visiting.

Adrian had gotten his own flat almost as soon as he graduated, desperately needing space from his father especially when he was pressing for him to get the Dark Mark. 

Speaking of which—

“You should be joining the ranks as Nathaniel and I have, Adrian.”

Resisting the urge to sigh at the long since tiresome conversation, Adrian’s eyes flickered over to the clock, counting down the minutes until it would be acceptable for him to leave.

Alexander Pucey was a man who was unbelievably stubborn the majority of the time. He had high hopes of raising the Pucey name and took great pride in their family just as most Purebloods did. He had the dark blue eyes the Pucey’s were known for, the same ones Adrian and his brother had, but that’s where their resemblance to him ended. Their father, while not overly tall, wasn’t short by any means. He had a bulbous nose that matched his round stomach and his hair was grey, a contrast to their own dark strands, and it matched his grey and mildly unflattering mustache.

Adrian and Nathaniel took more after their mother, an Avery at birth, with her pale skin, full lips and long dark hair. She was tall for a woman and it’s why they both had towering heights themselves.

Nathaniel, helpful brother that he was, chose that moment to chime in for a change, picking at his food with his fork. “Your schoolyard loyalty to the Slytherin Potter is over with; you should move on now.”

He bit back the retort that just because they were no longer in school it didn't mean his loyalty would just vanish. Adrian had long since learnt that silence was the best response to these pushes. 

His father was well aware that the Dark Lord would only take those who were truly loyal and it was well known that it was impossible to lie to the man. Misdirect maybe but the question if they will be loyal and true to him was unavoidable when it came to getting the Dark Mark.

Apparently deciding to drop the topic for now— well aware that nagging would get him nothing after years of it— Adrian’s father switched to his newest favoured topic; finding Adrian a bride.

“I’ve looked into our recent discussion and you will begin meeting with various heiresses now that your job is secured.” His father said promptly, more focused on his food than Adrian for the time being.

Adrian couldn't even offer a protest to that, well aware that in Pureblood culture this had been inevitable, something he had tried to make himself ready for since he entered his teen years. So, he tilted his head in acquiesce and asked. “Who are you considering?”

“Someone from a strong family with promise,” his father said at once. “Preferably with an heiress that would know how to behave. Hadrian Greengrass’ eldest daughter is still eligible.”

Nathaniel snorted. “From what I hear the girl scares away anyone who even tries to strike up a courtship.”

Adrian’s father huffed, waving his fork dismissively. “Both Carrow heiresses are still keeping their options open. Farley and Parkinson are circling multiple different men and Bulstrode is desperate to marry his daughter off to whoever will take her.”

Pulling a face at the last name, Adrian recalled the girl's rather unpleasant personality; at least Parkinson somewhat had the looks to make up for her personality flaws, Bulstrode assuredly did not.

“The more powerful families are already betrothed or set to marry,” Nathaniel pointed out, adding. “There’s always families outside of Britain.”

Their father pulled a face now, openly disdainful of the idea of one of his heirs marrying outside the country. They’d have to be a top tier family for him to even consider it and even then it would be a toss up. A look of realisation suddenly broke out on his face as he looked over at Adrian.

“Black named the Potter girl his heir,” he said, his words filling Adrian with reluctance. He could practically see the schemes swimming in his father’s eyes and he went on without waiting for any kind of response from his son. “You are close with her. Now is the time to expand on the relationship and start a courtship.”

“She is a friend—”

“Friend,” his father repeated with a sneer. “There are no ‘friends’ in Pureblood circles; only people who will help us grow more powerful.” He pointed at Adrian with his fork, a stern look on his face. “If you marry the girl then you will be the future Lord Black.”

Even as he said it Adrian knew he was wrong, well aware that Rose would take up the mantle after her godfather even if she married anyone. Plus as far as he was concerned no one would do the job better than her. He opened his mouth to say us much but his father cut him off once more—

“I’ll arrange other meetings with a few other heiresses but I want you to stick close to Potter.”

Adrian had no plans of even distancing himself from Rose but he wouldn’t do any of what his father was ordering, leaving his face blank as his father began to stand.

“Would our Lord even approve of the match— given who she is?” Nathaniel suddenly questioned.

That had his father pausing and he was silent for a moment before he said. “I will speak to our Lord. I’ll assure him of our loyalty and hopefully get his agreement to allow the match– he hasn’t seemed overly concerned with the Potter twins these days, his focus is elsewhere.” He had begun to leave the room even as he spoke, his words trailing off to a mutter as he went. Adrian glanced at his brother and raised his brow silently. 

Nathaniel met his stare with a what-can-you-do expression. “You know your duties to the family,” was all he offered before he made his own exit.

Finally letting out the sigh that had been building in chest Adrian got up to leave as well, barely sparing the family elves a glance as they started to clear the table. He had places to be and he would like to avoid thinking about the impending tiresome meetings he would be subjected to with women for as long as he possibly could now.

Since the end of August their small group of four had made a point of meeting at least once a week, something they were all able to do now that Adrian wasn’t swarmed with work and Marcus was living in Britain more permanently. Adrian was late for today’s gathering due to his father’s insistence on having dinner together— which was really just his way of keeping Adrian in place long enough so he could nag him about what he should be doing next with his life.

They were meeting at Marcus’ flat in a rather large magical residence called Kuloss Alley. It was a rounding street with multiple flats, far more than one would think from the outside of the buildings, and typically a place where Purebloods moved after leaving their family manors but before getting an official home for himself— though not everyone moved to this specific residence. 

Some went to Centaur Alley which, despite the name, was only a singular, simple and tall winding complex in the middle of several magical neighbourhoods. There was Season Alley which was more of a short term living corridor taken care of by the Ministry of Magic that was mostly used by visiting officials from other countries. Then there was Knight Alley, which was a far less appealing place to live but was also far cheaper than any other spot; including the scattered flats in Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley and Hogsmeade.

Marcus had been living in his family manor when in Britain since leaving school but he had had a place in France when stationed there. When he knew he would be back in Britain for the next few years he wasted no time in renting one of the flats in Kuloss Alley. 

Adrian had suggested the place, having gotten a flat there when he first moved out too.

The older man's place was a simple two bedroom space, with its own Floo Network connected to the fireplace in the wide and spacious living room. When Adrian arrived Marcus, Graham and Rose were already inside, all seated around the dark coffee table in the centre of the room in the midst of a conversation. Marcus place was pretty light in terms of appearance, with white floors and walls and furniture to match that. The only dark colouring came from the trim along the base of it, the coffee table and end tables, and the book shelves.

With a smirk Marcus read the long-suffering look on his face with ease and Adrian wasted no time in dropping on the opposite end of the couch Graham was seated on. Rose was on the chair to his left while Marcus occupied the loveseat across from her. It didn’t take much time for him to catch up on their current line of conversation which was apparently about Graham's plans to move into a flat in Diagon alley, wanting to be closer to his office. His parents were protesting the change in living arrangements but it sounded like he wasn’t going to let that stop him.

When it sounded like Graham was finished with the topic Marcus glanced at Adrian. “How did your family meal go?”

“It was only my father and brother, thankfully, but my father is still pestering me to get the Dark Mark.” Adrian recounted with a roll of his eyes. “At least he’s getting the idea that going on endlessly about it won’t change anything.”

“At least that’s good,” Graham said positively.

Adrian huffed. “Yeah, but now he’s moved on to pushing marriage.”

Rose and Marcus’ brows lifted and the former asked. “Why?”

With a sigh, Adrian sat back and said. “My parents think since my job is now secure I should be able to focus my attention on finding a wife and continuing the family name.”

“Isn’t that why you have a brother?”

Graham laughed, both at Rose’s words and her wry tone, but added. “Nathaniel is expecting, one would think that would make them ease up a bit.”

He shook his head in denial. “I wish. It just seems to have fanned the flames of the fire. My father is under the impression that I’m resistant to following family expectations at every turn.”

Which was absolutely absurd given the circumstance. The marriage topic had only just begun, and even then Adrian wasn’t actively protesting it, and there wasn’t anything he was being ‘resistant’ to in terms of family expectations, with the exception of—

“Meaning you won’t get the Dark Mark,” Rose summarised in a flat tone.

Adrian only hummed his affirmation.

Marcus eyed him contemplatively and asked. “Does your father have any people picked out? Is it your choice or are your parents going to do the choosing?” The second question was tacked on at the last second but it had all three of them watching him more closely.

“Thankfully my parents are leaving my choice in a bride in my hands but that isn’t stopping my father from giving me a list of heiresses who are looking to start a courtship.”

“At least you can drag out that process,” Graham pointed out and Adrian half wanted to smile at his long time friend’s need to put a positive spin on things. “Just because you start one doesn’t mean you’re obligated to get engaged.”

His face twisted briefly and, like the true pessimist he was, Adrian said. “If the girl I start a courtship with is eager to get married then she would more than likely tell her parents, who would tell my parents, and then I’d be getting it from all sides to ask the question.”

The fact that they were so opposite on how they looked at things would probably make one think he and Graham couldn’t be that close of friends. On the contrary Adrian found it to be quite the opposite. They were able to have a good outlook on things whenever anything got serious enough to warrant long conversations and debates.

Graham had been his best friend since they were young, their Hogwarts days really, and Adrian truly valued him greatly. If it were in his power he would do whatever he could to ensure he got to live the life he wanted— it was just unfortunate that it wasn’t in his power to do that. But he’d be there to make the more unpleasant times more positive, always willing to take a different viewpoint for his friends if needed. Unlike his father, Adrian did think there were such things as ‘friends’ in Pureblood circles; really it was the trick to surviving this life half the time.

The four of them had lapsed into a silence as they thought over Adrian’s predicament until Marcus asked—

“Who does your father have in mind?”

“Just a bunch of families he wants to connect the Pucey name to; Parkinson, Greengrass—” there were multiple snorts at that “— Carrow, Bulstrode.” He glanced over at Rose and added, “Black.”

The name was hardly a surprise, the three boys knew the Black family name was a powerful one, a big reason why they had been curious years ago if Rose would inherit the title one day.

Marcus had a faint smile on his face. “I’m surprised Rose’s name wasn’t the first listed considering your father already knows you’re familiar with each other. The Black family name is well sought out.”

Rose didn’t look at all surprised to hear her name either, but then again it wasn’t exactly a secret that different families had attempted to set up betrothals with the Black family in the past— not that any had ever succeeded.

“I imagine it was the Potter of it all that had him not thinking about it first,” Adrian commented idly.

Rose laughed at the way he said that particular fact while Graham grinned and got the subject back on hand as he asked. “Who are you going to aim for then?”

With another aggrieved sigh Adrian clenched his jaw as thought it over and admitted. “I’m not sure.”

Nodding his head slowly, Graham said. “If you pick someone who’s in their last year at Hogwarts it’s guaranteed to delay it by a year and with minimal contact— longer if they’re in sixth year.”

Adiran was already shaking his head. “I couldn't deal with someone too young, even with minimal contact I’d likely find them too annoying.”

He found most people annoying but younger girls were just too giggly about things, even Slytherin girls, and at worst they were arrogant and overbearing. It was a big reason why he never really dated for the most part despite a great deal of interest expressed to him over the years. Sure his focus on his career was part of it but the few times he did date had proven to be a long-suffering ordeal. Adrian had been more inclined to frivolous hookups and never spared much time for the girls after that— it was a fact that had girls glaring or whispering spiteful words about him but it hardly kept him up at night.

It wasn’t his fault the next girl to come along would think herself an exception to his way of ‘dating’. One would think they’d learn from previous girls’ mistakes.

“What are you looking for in marriage then?” Graham asked next.

“I don’t know,” Adrian groaned, rolling his head back in exasperation. His plans for avoiding thinking about this for as long as possible were clearly not going to happen now.

Marcus smiled briefly and asked. “When does your father expect you to start looking?”

“I imagine he’s expecting me to at least start a courtship as soon as feasibly possible…” Adrian muttered, his mind already flicking through any possible names that wouldn’t annoy the hell out of him.

“Why don’t we start one then.”

Rose’s words had all three men looking at her with varying expressions of surprise. “If we start one we’re under no obligation to follow through,” she pointed out, quoting Graham’s earlier words. “And we could end it at any time. Plus it would appease your father enough for you to actually figure out what you want to do in terms of your future marriage.”

The words made sense, even Marcus and Graham appeared to be in agreement, but Adrian was still mildly surprised at the offer. He wasn’t resistant to the idea, in fact it would help a lot of the problems he was going through at the moment and, like Rose said, would buy him more time.

He tilted his head in thought before he slowly said. “That would work... You would definitely be the one to decide when you would and wouldn't want to do something and wouldn’t hesitate to let my father know just that.”

Rose’s confident smile in response had Adrian feeling a lot better about this. No way would his father be able to strong arm this situation further along even if he wanted to, stubborn as he could be. Unlike with any other girl who might want to rush into marriage herself— or be pressured by her family or his to do so— Rose would keep things going as slow as Adrian would need.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

Back during the end of August Fred and George had received the deed to one of the vacant shops in Hogsmeade, much to their delight. It was now the first of October and it was the day before the twins’ grand opening of the second location of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

As what the Weasley twins would call their ‘original investors’ Fred and George had asked Harry and Rose to come take a look at the place before they opened up; Sirius happily tagging along.

Most of the Weasley clan was present when they arrived; only Percy and Charlie being absent both for obvious reasons, the latter in Romania while the former was still very much estranged from his family. Mrs. Weasley was arm in arm with Fleur, apparently fussing over the blonde since first finding out she was pregnant, despite only being just under two months into the pregnancy. Fleur didn’t seem to have any protests, according to Bill she was happy to hear any advice the mother of seven had to offer when it came to the months ahead of her. 

The shop looked great, the twins happy to give the tour. It was much like the shop in Diagon Alley, this one even had a space above the shop too where Fred and George would be staying for the near future and the layout of the actual shop was almost identical to their first one.

“It looks great!” Sirius proclaimed with a bright grin.

The compliment had Fred and George mock-bashfully waving off his praise.

Harry, after having looked around at everyone, suddenly asked. “Where’s Hermione?”

“She had a meeting but she said she’d met us at the Three Broomsticks Inn,” Ron told him as he eyed the things already on the shelves.

Rose lifted a curious brow at that but before she could voice any questions Mrs. Weasley decided. “We should head there now.”

“Yes!” Fred agreed readily. “We’ll get a round of drinks.”

“On us!” George was quick to add.

Who could say no to that? 

There was already a nip in the air, Fall well and truly beginning with Samhain just around the corner. It wasn’t cold enough to warrant bundling up but it did have them sticking close together as they headed down the sparsely filled streets of Hogsmeade.

The Three Broomsticks Inn was mostly empty when they got inside but it wouldn't remain that way tomorrow when the students at Hogwarts arrived to visit— hence the twins’ opening day. The lack of people meant that their large group got their choice of seating and it didn’t take long for drinks to be served and idle conversation to break out between them all.

About ten minutes into their arrival Hermione finally arrived, rushing in with an excited look on her face. She wasted no time in crossing to the empty seat beside Ron though she didn’t sit down, instead crying out. “We got it!”

Ron jumped up at once. “That’s great!” He wrapped Hermione up in a tight hug while everyone else watched on in confusion. The boy glanced over at his parents and told them. “Mum, Dad, I’m moving out.”

“What?” Mrs. Weasley questioned at once.

“You got an apartment,” Mr. Weasley assumed with a soft smile.

Hermione was beaming. “We got a one bedroom flat at Centaur Alley.”

The reveal had some of the worry on Mrs. Weasley’s face easing. “That’s not very far,” she said in a relieved tone.

“What’s it like?” Harry asked with an openly curious expression on his face. “I’ve always wondered where lots of wizards lived considering Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade aren’t exactly swimming with flats.”

“There’s plenty of living areas,” Sirius helpfully informed him, pushing a hand into Harry’s hair and messing it up in the process while getting a swat back. “I’ll take you to see them all soon.”

Rose had leaned closer to the table to speak to her brother at the same time as Sirius. “Marcus and Adrian live in Kuloss Alley.” Sirius shot her an amused grin before he said congratulations to Ron and Hermione both. The pair finally sat down, both wearing happily proud looks on their faces.

“When can we see your place?” Ginny asked next from her spot between Bill and Harry, everyone else looking at the pair expectantly at her question much to Rose’s amusement.

“We can start moving in tomorrow but it won't be nearly ready for guests for at least a few days,” Hermione rushed out.

Ginny laughed and pointed out. “We’re not guests, we're family. Besides, I just want to scope out the place a bit.”

“You can come by tomorrow,” Ron promised and then he glanced at Hermione. “When can we head there?” 

Hermione held up two keys in response, handing one to Ron with a bright smile on her face. “We can go anytime we like but I think we should go earlier tomorrow morning.”

“I thought you were gonna get a place in the Muggle world,” Harry commented.

Rose remembered when that had first come up, Hermione wanting to stay more in touch with the world she spent so much of her life in; the first half of her life actually.   Despite that, she had known Hermione would eventually settle on a place in the magical world, the convenience of it all bound to be more appealing to the organised and work-oriented girl. 

“We were considering it,” Hermione admitted as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “But there aren’t many places close to the Leaky Cauldron and setting up a permanent Floo Network in a Muggle residence is very difficult.”

Harry vaguely remembered the time Mr. Wesley Floo’d to the Dursleys before their fourth year but silenced that comment when he realised it was only a one time occasion and not a permanent one like Hermione clearly wanted.

Fleur spoke up then, her words excited. “We will ‘ave to throw you a ‘ouse warming party zometime zoon!” 

“Oh! You don’t have to do that,” Hermione was quick to say but Mrs. Weasley eagerly hopped on board the idea, already voicing what she could make for the event.

While the talk of the party went on Ron glanced over at Harry and Rose and asked. “Are the two of you planning to move out anytime soon?”

Harry and Rose shared a look that simultaneously said what they have both been thinking and Harry voiced it aloud. “We aren’t. We’ve only been living with Sirius for about four years, less even considering we were mostly at Hogwarts for the first few years and then travelling for the last year. We wanna enjoy the feeling Grimmauld Place has… cause no other place has ever really felt the way it does.”

“Like home,” Ron said in a quiet understanding voice.

He got a pair of nods in return.

The sound of the door opening drew the attention of a few of them and they were mildly surprised to see Hagrid lumbering in. Nevertheless Harry, Ron and the twins were quick to greet the half-giant. Hagrid smiled as he came over to them but everyone was able to read the signs of anger and stress on his face, the kind-hearted man never having had much of a poker face.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked at once, a frown on his face.

With a shake of his head, Hagrid glanced around before he leaned in close to murmur. “Dumbledore’s grave was robbed.”

… What?

Mr. Weasley was the first to recover from the shock of that statement and asked. “Have you found the culprit?”

Everyone sat upright, staring at Hagrid avidly as they awaited his answer, still hardly able to believe someone would rob Dumbledore’s grave, especially since it was on Hogwarts grounds.

“No,” Hagrid revealed. “I went with Sprout ter fix some plants around his grave an’ we found the lid open.”

Bill had a frown on his face, arm curled around Fleur in his worry. “Was anything taken?”

“Jus’ his wand.”

There are curious and contemplative expressions at the answer— why would someone want Dumbledore's wand? The whole thing about wands is that they don’t work as well for anyone else, no wand was as good as one specifically meant for a person.

Sirius was rubbing his jaw in silence then asked. “Has the Ministry been involved?”

“McGonagall is talkin’ with ‘em now,” Hagrid told him quietly, his face still simmering with anger, likely seeing this as a great disrespect to Dumbledore. Which was true. “It mus’ve happ’nd last nigh’ sometime.”

Madam Rosemerta, the owner of the Three Broomsticks Inn, called Hagrid then, a bag of something in her hand. Hagrid took that as his cue to leave, telling them he didn’t want to be gone long from Hogwarts but that Madam Rosmerta always saved up the bones from the meals throughout the week for Fang so he just came to pick them up.

After Hagrid exited the Inn Ron looked over at the twins and asked what they were thinking. “Why would someone want Dumbeldore’s wand?”

“No idea,” Harry said slowly.

“Was Dumbledore buried with both his wands?” Rose asked at the same time.

“... Both his wands?” Bill repeated in confusion.

Rose nodded once. “Yeah, Dumbledore always had two wands.”

“Why would he have two?” Harry asked, getting a shrug from his sister in response.

Mr. Weasley was the one to offer a possibility to that question. “It’s not uncommon for some older wizards, especially those who’ve fought in multiple wars, to have two wands.”

“For backup,” Ron assumed as he glanced over at his father. “In case they lose one.” He got a nod of affirmation in return.

“I’ll stop by Hogwarts tomorrow and ask Minnie,” Sirius said quietly as he looked around at them all. “For now I think it’d be best if we called it a night.”

Mrs. Weasley is quick to agree, standing up and instantly helping Fleur stand as well; much to Bill’s fond amusement. They all headed outside one by one and were quick to Apparate out until it was only Harry, Rose and Sirius left.

Just before they were set to go, Rose looked at Harry and Sirius suddenly. “Oh— I have some news.” The two looked at her in surprise and pulled identical ‘go on’ expressions but Rose only said. “I’ll tell you at home.” Before disappearing with an almost silent crack.

The action had Harry and Sirius sharing a fond look— the former more exasperated at having his curiosity raised and denied an immediate answer— before they too disappeared, leaving behind the empty streets of Hogsmeade without a second look.

Chapter Text

In the wake of Grindelwald’s escape, life at the Dark Lord’s manor had become far more busy. Most of the inner circle were feeling a lot more determined, especially those who had been in Azkaban for so long. 

An increase in missions were doled out to see how exactly he managed to get free and it was found out that the wards Dumbledore had set up decades ago had fallen after his death. The foolish people at the Ministry were evidently not smart enough to remember to reinforce them, likely more concerned with their previous smear campaign back then.

The Dark Lord called meetings frequently these days which had people nervous. While he was far more in control of himself these days, his times of insanity a thing of the past, that didn't mean he was an easy going leader by any means. Crucio’s and other punishments were still swiftly dealt out when disappointment was brought to him.

Lucius Malfoy was currently on his way to the Floo in the Dark Lord’s manor where apparently Alexander Pucey would be coming through. He had requested a meeting with their Lord and Lucius was very curious about what it was for. Thankfully his curiosity would soon be sated as his Lord said he’d be allowed to attend, as would Severus and Rabastan, the former free to attend more meetings now that his schedule wasn't as tied down as it had been when he was a professor.

He had just reached the main entrance for the Floo when the fireplace flared to life, green flames illuminating the room with a viridescent glow.

Alexander Pucey stepped in with confident movements but Lucius could easily read the signs of nerves in the man. Meeting with the Dark Lord made even the most skilled of Purebloods unable to hide their emotions, especially if they were worried about how what they wanted to discuss would be received.

“Lord Pucey.” Lucius greeted cooly, eyeing him critically.

“Lord Malfoy.”

With a silent command, Lucius began to lead Pucey down the hall to where the Dark Lord’s office was— one of them at least, the one that he’d host meetings like this in. 

Severus and Rabastan were off to one side of the room when Lucius stepped inside, the latter murmuring something in a low voice to the former. Just last week he and his brother had gathered information about Grindelwald recruiting more men, most were foreigners but there were rumoured to be British joining him as well. They were all under orders to capture and torture whatever information they could get out of these traitors.

Lucius knew it was only a matter of time before Grindelwald got his hands on those already bearing the Dark Mark, desperate followers eager to make headway in the ranks even if it was under a new leader.

The Dark Lord was seated at his desk in a high backed chair with his hood up, obscuring his face from view though his glowing red eyes remained ominously clear.

With a bow of his head, Lucius murmured. “Lord Pucey, my Lord.” Just behind him Pucey  was quick to follow Lucius’ lead, bowing much lower than he had, desperate to show his respect. 

“Have a seat.”

Lucius moved to the side opposite of Severus and Rabastan, both of whom were now focused on the newcomer, when his Lord spoke. Tucking his arms behind his back, he watched as Pucey hurried to follow the command, sitting in one of the chairs on the other side of the Dark Lord’s desk.

“Why did you call this meeting.” Though the phrase was a question, in the Dark Lord’s tone it was a demand more so than anything else. 

Pucey sat straight in his seat, eyes darting from the Dark Lord to his desk top, clearly unsure if eye contact would be seen as an insult. “It’s about my youngest heir, my Lord.” He said, his words barely remaining solid in his own fear. He was cut off then and there. 

“I told you before that my ranks are only for those truly willing– not those whose hands are forced by their family members.”

Lucius was well aware that this fact just wasn’t true; the Dark Lord had no issue in letting family members force a joining, ensuring to instill fear as means of obedience right from the start to guarantee there were no thoughts of treachery. However it was due to his deal with the Potter twins— or more accurately Rose Potter— that he was unable to mark Alexander’s second heir until the boy asked for it himself.

Pucey was shaking his head, his shoulders hunching slowly. “That’s not why I’m here, my Lord,” he promised hurriedly. “I’m here because my son’s career is now on solid ground so I have been pushing for him to find a wife to start a family and continue the family name…”

“Why should this concern me?” The Dark Lord asked coldly, clearly tired of the meeting already— which didn’t bode well for Pucey.

“W–Well, as P-Purebloods do,” Pucey stuttered out. “I want to tie my son to a powerful family, one with promise and a good reputation.” Frowning at the words, Lucius glanced over to see the similar stirrings of confusion on the faces of Severus and Rabastan across the room. Pucey seemed to steel on, though careful to remain a picture of obedience, and sat upright once more. “Rose Potter will be inheriting the Black name and my son just so happened to be close with the girl when she was running Slytherin’s hierarchy.”

Realisation crawled upon all four men, each of them watching Pucey who, if he were a far weaker man, would likely be sweating buckets by now. His nerves now made sense. He— like most Death Eaters— had no idea the Dark Lord no longer wished for the demise of the Potter twins and was likely fearful of what the man with a reputation for a short-temper would say; or worse do.

With a wavering voice, Pucey powered on. “I want my son to court the girl— but if you disapprove, my Lord, I will put a stop to it immediately.”

The room was suspended in silence after Pucey was finished with his appeal and Lucius waited curiously to see what his Lord would do with this information.

When the Dark Lord spoke, it was with a cold voice as he said more than asked. “You want my blessing for the courtship.” Pucey visibly swallowed and only nodded, most certainly not trusting his voice at the moment. After another bout of silence their Lord sat forward. “Alright,” he said, much to the surprise of not only Pucey. “If your son wishes to attempt to court Rose Potter he may.” He tilted his head, face still obscured by the shadows of his hood and— in a tone that only his inner circle would be able to read the humour in— said. “And if marriage comes from it, I would be most eager to see how that would play out.”

His humour was well justified. Lucius knew Alexander simply wanted to slide his son into the position of Lord Black— something he wasn’t sure if the young boy even wanted. 

Lucius clearly remembered the day he received the letter for his Lord from Rose Potter and the few times he happened to be at parties alongside her and the three Slytherins she allowed closer to her. The boys seemed to have a deep loyalty to her, much like his Lord’s inner circle, and Lucius couldn’t imagine Adrian Pucey would ever go so far as to try and steal her inheritance and family title from her. Even if he tried, Rose Potter herself had a formidable reputation of not letting anyone walk over her. Not even Dumbledore himself— who had far more strings to pull than the Pucey Lord did— had managed it. Not to mention Black himself would move mountains to keep his heirs happy so he wouldn’t hesitate to refuse and stop any schemes this man may have.

Lucius listened on with half an ear as Alexander thanked their Lord profusely and didn’t hesitate to gesture for Pucey to follow him out of the room once it was clear the meeting had reached its end. The trip back to the Floo was a silent one and he could practically feel Pucey’s relief in the air around them. He didn’t offer a parting word as he watched Pucey leave in a woosh of flames, only turning on his heel to head back to his Lord’s office.

When he returned his Lord was leaning back in his seat, hood down, with a contemplative expression. He was running the backs of his fingers along the edge of his sharp jawline and staring off into the distance. 

Lucius wasn’t sure what led to the Dark Lord making the deal with Potter so long ago; given when he first made it he had just gotten his body back and was a far cry from a man of rational thinking, fueled by anger and vengeance. Even after the start of the deal he was still that way. It wasn’t until after his youthful appearance was returned to him that he had become the sly and beyond cunning leader he was first known to be. The only assumption Lucius had been able to come to was that Potter had something on him and had used whatever it was to enact some kind of fundamental change in their Lord. 

Something that strengthened this theory was the fact that their Lord had Lucius retrieve Hufflepuff’s Cup from Bella’s vault— the same Cup he had given her alongside the diary he had given Lucius years ago— and the ring on his finger that had made a sudden appearance shortly before Dumbledore had been cursed by something that ate away at his very hand. The trinkets were of importance to their Lord, that much was obvious when he made them swear to protect them. Lucius had failed— and paid the price dearly— to keep his item safe; the diary being destroyed by the Potter twins when they were children.

But now Lucius had to wonder— did they manage to keep it? Lucius never got a closer examination of the thing, too close to suspicion already, but maybe they did.

He could see Rose Potter trying to do so. The young girl likely worked out that it was something of value to the Dark Lord and saw it as some kind of bargaining chip. Just how long had she been planning to stay out of the war? Since reentering the magical world no doubt, the life those twins led up till then were hardly a time of dreams. Or maybe they simply found another item of their Lords? The deal came in their fifth year, not long after the two moved into the Black ancestral home. Lucius recalled Bella bragging about Black’s younger brother Regulus offering his services to the Dark Lord much like she and Lucius had; pointing out that the two of them were members of the Black family as though the fact only proved their superiority.

“Do you think Potter would actually consider marrying the boy?” Rabastan’s curious voice broke Lucius out of his thoughts and he looked over at him. 

Their Lord glanced over at him as well when he spoke and an amused look splashed across his face. “We’ll have to wait and see. I was never good at predicting the moves those Potter twins would make.”

While it was clear to see their Lord watched the pair closely, he always did seem to focus more so on the Slytherin Potter. Lucius supposed he could understand why— Severus had once told him how Dumbledore was unnerved at the similarities she had to the Dark Lord in his own youth.

Either way, Lucius was certain it was fortunate that Alexander's youngest was listed on the contract directly protecting him from the Dark Lord’s possible wrath. Whether he was truly okay with this progress or not, it was always best to play it safe when it came to their Lord.

The Dark Lord dismissed them not long after that— murmuring something about needing to be at the Ministry soon and ordering Severus to keep an ear out for more information about Dumbledore’s grave robbing— so Lucius made his return to his family home. When he arrived at home he gave a quick order to the elf that greeted him to tell him where his wife was.

“She’s in the main parlour with Lord Black, Master.”

He was swift to head in the aforementioned direction, his steps smooth and confident. The closer he got the clearer he could hear his wife, currently discussing Draco’s wedding plans.

Lucius was relieved when his son’s betrothal moved forward and Cissa was offered a distraction from Draco’s responsibilities as a Death Eater. His son wasn’t climbing the ranks as quickly as he himself had but then again he didn't have any particular unique skill that usually opened seats in the Dark Lord’s inner circle. He himself had his skills with memory crafting; Severus was gifted at potions; Avery was a tracker; and on and on it went, each of the members of the inner circle possessing a skill that set them apart.

Pushing those thoughts aside for the time being, Lucius waltzed into his main parlour and immediately spotted his wife and her cousin. He offered a brief greeting to Black and dropped a soft kiss to his wife's cheek, a warm feeling in his chest as she tilted her face up into the motion after years of routine together.

He took his place on the love seat next to her and Black shot him a curious look. “How are things with you, Lucius? Cissa was just telling me about the wedding plans.”

Lucius hummed quietly. “More of the same Pureblood responsibilities, as you would know.” Sirius tilted his head in silent agreement, a bit more focused on the array of finger foods Cissa had laid out for him. Half the time she didn’t have so many options but she knew her cousin well enough to know he’d eat anything she put in front of him. He noted a few of the foods she and Lady Greengrass had discussed for the wedding and he was certain she had gotten Sirius’ opinion on all of them.

“How are your twins?” he asked in a neutral tone as Cissa started to pour him some tea in the cup closest to him.

Sirius grinned. “I’m assuming you heard about Rosie’s more recent news.”

“Her news?” Cissa asked at once, raising a brow at both men.

“The younger Pucey heir, Adrian, is courting Rosie.”

Cissa let out an excited gasp— which Lucius was expecting, his wife was always happy to hear about new relationships— and cried. “How wonderful!”

“I did not think she would be one for marriage,” Lucius commented mildly as he stirred milk and sugar into his tea idly. “I thought she would have taken the route Bella would have taken had her father not decided to marry her off.”

Sirius, who had just taken a bite out of a small sandwich, hummed in a sort of agreement. “It’s hard to say with Rosie. From what she said Adrian wasn’t really prepared to hop into marriage just yet, a pretty solitary guy, but his father is pushing for it. The two of them are mostly doing this whole courting thing to give the boy some breathing room to figure out what he wants.”

That certainly made a lot more sense.

“It could lead to something genuine though,” Cissa said quickly. “They’re good friends, right?”

Sirius nodded his head at once. “That’s why it’s hard to say. If Rosie was gonna settle down I always figured it would be with one of those boys or any one of the people she’s willing to trust.” He wiped his fingers absently on his napkin and murmured. “I don’t see her just meeting someone and jumping into a relationship like young people tend to do.”

“Well, hopefully this will grow into something real,” Cissa said with a soft smile, Lucius only making a faint noise that wasn’t much of agreement but wasn’t a disagreement either.

She got a shrug from her cousin in reply. “Either way, I’ll be happy as long as Rosie is.”

In mid October Harry and Rose went to visit Ron and Hermione’s new flat for the first time. All the Weasleys already went to check the place out but the twins had decided to wait until Hermione felt more okay with having visitors.

It was brisk out, the seasonal air nipping at their noses as they walked off in the direction of Centaur Alley. The place wasn’t too far from the Burrow so the twins had Apparated there and steadily began their trek towards Ron and Hermione's new place. 

Harry spared his sister, who was predictably silent as they walked, a glance. Despite being far more okay with talking these days— would most definitely talk if Harry decided to strike up a conversation now— she was still mostly silent unless she had something specific she wanted to discuss. She talked quite often during the time she joined him in shadowing Sirius, always curious about this and that or even simply wanting to hear Sirius’ own personal perspective regarding things she already understood. Harry was glad for her company, especially when Sirius talked about Wizengamot meetings and its rules and expectations. After years of practice Rose had gotten quite skilled at explaining things to Harry in ways she knew he’d understand.

“Are you ever nervous about taking over the Black family?”

Rose didn’t blink twice at Harry’s abrupt question, only humming quietly before she said. “Not particularly.”

The answer didn’t surprise Harry and he asked the next thing on his mind. “Did you know how many marriage proposals Sirius gets from other families tryna marry into the Black family?”

Now she glanced at him, her green eyes tracking his face carefully. “I’ve never really discussed it but I wasn’t unaware. Marcus explained to me years ago how Pureblood Lords didn’t send proposals to the actual people but rather their family Lords.”

“Did you ever ask Sirius about it?”

“No,” Rose said simply. “Sirius was always very clear about us choosing our own person to marry and I knew that he would decline any and all requests.” She paused a beat before adding. “I also had very little desire to deal with all of that myself and if I knew the names of the people daring to ask for my hand without my consent then I’d become a very busy person very soon.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile at that, well aware of Rose's opinion on such things, remembering what she said she’d do if anyone used a Love Potion on him back in their sixth year. Never mind what she’d do if someone tried to take her consent from her.

“I find it strange how quickly Purebloods seem to wanna get married.” He said next, silently asking Rose for her opinion.

“It’s custom,” she replied as her eyes flickered around them absently. “Surely you must be used to it by now, half the conversation we’re forced to have at Pureblood parities are people asking about other people they’re considering courting.” 

“Is that what they’re doing?” Harry asked aghast, he always took it as people just wanting gossip. “Why would they ask us? Half the people they mention we don’t even really know…”

Rose shrugged. “Most Purebloods always look for the opinions of others before making a decision.”

“Yeah, but those opinions should come from their friends and family, not some random twins they barely know.”

His sister laughed at that and before Harry could continue the topic she murmured. “There it is.”

Head darting forward once more Harry instantly spotted a tall towering building that seemed to twist in a way that made him think of the DNA strands he saw in some of Rose’s Muggle science books. He looked at the area surrounding it and said the first thing that came to his mind. “I thought it was an alley…”

Again Rose laughed. “It’s just this building— ignore the name.”

All around the lone building were open fields though just off to the right Harry could see what looked to be a decent sized fountain. The closer they got the clearer the building got; the windows glinting in the afternoon sun and the smooth white paneling clean and pristine. The path wound around the building and the twins followed it until they were at a set of glass double doors directly across from the fountain. 

The lobby they stepped into was mostly white with deep blue accents and their footsteps echoed as they walked across the large foyer.

“Harry! Ro’!”

Turning his head, Harry saw Hermione happily waving at them. She was dressed in Muggle clothes, her hair was pulled back into two braids and there was a bright smile on her face. “What do you think?” She asked as the twins crossed to her.

“It looks good so far,” Harry said in amusement, sharing a fond look with Rose.

Hermione waved them after her and they didn’t hesitate to follow her towards a grey ornate cage much like the gold ones in the Ministry of Magic. Harry glanced up and at the very top he could see the sun just past the area directly above them, no roof obscuring it from sight. He also spotted other lifts like the one they were about to get in stopped in random spots and one moving downward. After Hermione ushered them on, pushing the front open with well-practiced ease, she leaned over to where an array of buttons from two to twenty sat and pressed the number eleven.

“We’re still getting things set up but the house warming party helped a lot.”

It wasn’t like Harry and Rose were particularly picky about their surroundings. True, even Privet Drive had been a rather put together place— Petunia downright obsessive about keeping clean— but they had lived in a spider infested cupboard for Merlin's sake. 

The cage finally stopped and Hermione led them to a door with an ornate letter ‘G’ stamped just under the peephole. Harry’s first thought about Ron and Hermione’s place was that despite Hermione saying they were still setting up it looked to be done.

The front door opened directly into the main living area with the kitchen on their left and further in was a good sized table with six chairs around it and the living room just past that. The large fireplace was done with a deep grey stone and there was a pot on its mantle that would likely be filled with Floo Powder soon enough if it wasn’t already. The furthest wall was mostly window, the grounds Harry and Rose just walked across clear to see and just off in the distance the edge of a small village Rose told Harry was called Ottery St. Catchpole. The sunlight beaming through the window made the warm, brown wooden floors shine. Along the wall on their right were two doors and an archway. The archway was closest and looking inside Harry could see coat hooks and a few things hanging up. The first door opened a crack and he spotted a bathroom sink inside which meant the furthest door, directly on the opposite wall from the fireplace, had to be the bedroom.

Harry tore his eyes off of the room and glanced over at where Ron was putting some plates in the cupboards. He grinned at them. “What do you think?”

“It looks great,” Harry said enthusiastically while Rose gave a silent double thumbs up.

He eyed the living room more closely, taking in the mixed coloured set of seats and the oval coffee table made of mildly chipped wood in the centre. Harry and Rose sat on a dark blue couch while Ron plopped onto a pale orange armchair and Hermione sat on an olive green loveseat. The couches were gifted to them by Hermione’s parents, the couple tearfully offering their daughter whatever she needed to make her move from home easier.

Hermione glanced at Rose and at once said. “I heard in the Ministry that Adrian Pucey is courting you.” Rose hummed her affirmation but Hermione only furrowed her brows. “I wasn’t able to find much information on the whole thing– at least not in the magical world. The Muggle world had some explanations on the subject but I was unsure how similar the two would be.”

Harry wanted to smile at the fact that Hermione tried to research the whole thing before talking to either twin. Likely she wanted to come into the conversation feeling knowledgeable and not wanting to unintentionally offend Rose in some way. The latter was something she worked very hard to do now that she was working in the Ministry of Magic.

“They’re pretty similar,” Rose told her distractedly as she scanned the flat some more. “Courting is just a more formal way for Purebloods to say dating, however there is no expectation for either party to remain loyal to only the other.”

“You can see more than one person?” Harry reaffirmed in confusion.

Rose nodded, looking over at him. “Yes. Though there is a point where either one could demand exclusivity but they’d have to be much farther down the line in the whole thing.”

It sounded almost exactly like dating to Harry, only just with a fancier name.

“I didn’t realise you were looking for someone,” Hermione offered hesitantly as she watched Rose; Harry noticed not far from her Ron was doing the same thing.

Now Rose shook her head. “Adrian’s father was pushing for marriage now that his career is set and if he courts someone else odds are the girl will push for marriage as soon as possible. He’s still rather unsure about what he wants.” She waved a hand about and Harry’s attention turned to the flat once more as Rose explained all this to him and Sirius already. “It’s a delicate balance because he doesn't want to outright refuse and have his father force his hand but he doesn’t want to agree all together either because it would mean a wedding within the year.”

“What does that have to do with you?” Ron asked slowly.

Harry had asked the exact same thing though Sirius had seemed to see where Rose was going with all of this when she first brought it up.

“Adrian’s father has his eye on the Black family title and he knows Adrian and I are close. While Adrian planned not to acknowledge the man’s obvious plan I realised if we did start a courtship it would give Adrian some breathing room to figure out his future for himself.” She paused a beat before adding on wryly. “It’s not like Alexander Pucey could force me or Sirius’ to adhere to his plans when he wants them— he wouldn’t want to risk losing his chance of connecting his family name to ours.”

Hermione had a frown on her face the more Rose went on explaining everything. “The whole courtship thing seems so dry…”

“It’s marriage contracts and betrothals that are dry,” Rose countered easily. “Courtship itself can be seen as a romantic affair.”

That had Harry focusing back on the trio as he nodded his head. “Yeah, our dad courted our mum and she liked the whole experience.”

Now Hermione’s expression grew more curious, a long since familiar look with her, and she sat up straighter and asked. “What exactly is expected with a courtship?”

“First going out to activities together— Pureblood parties and personal ones to get to know one another. When things get more serious the courter will give gifts to show their affection. Then there would be a dinner with the main family— parents and siblings— so the families can begin to get to know one another. After this would usually be the point where they decide whether they’re exclusive and if they are they would begin turning away other courtships offers. Finally, if all goes well, someone proposes.”

Hermione listened on avidly as Rose spoke and the twitching in her hands told Harry that she half wanted to write everything down as she heard it. The realisation had a part amused and part fond smile breaking out on his face and a quick glance at Ron showed he was thinking along the same lines as him.

“So it’s dating,” Hermione finally said when Rose didn’t continue speaking.

Rose smiled. “Essentially. The only difference is that people could date with no plans or thoughts of marriage in the future but with courtships both parties are looking for marriage as the end goal.”

“I suppose that’s efficient,” Hermione mused aloud then hesitated a moment before she said. “It’s still awful that parents can just marry off their children for their own personal gain.”

“I agree,” Rose said firmly, much to Harry’s faint amusement; he thought that fact went without saying.

Ron shifted forward in his seat now, a more understanding look on his face. “So you and Pucey will just hangout like you normally would.”

That’s what Harry gathered from the whole thing too. It made sense Rose would do this, especially to help her friend out of a tough spot. Half the things expected out of them during a ‘courtship’ were things they did a lot of the time anyways. And, like Rose said, if things moved too slow there’s not much Pucey’s father could do really, not if he wanted the two of them to actually get married.

“Essentially.” Rose agreed. “We’d go to a few parties together rather than with anyone else but that should be it… unless Adrian’s father insists on a family dinner at some point.” She gave an almost unnoticeable shrug at that point and added. “We’ll be going to the Greengrass Pre-Samhain party this weekend for starters.”

“How long would that be?” Harry asked, partly unable to imagine his sister actually going to a party of her own volition.

Rose shot him a look that said she knew just what he was thinking which made him grin. “Not too long,” she replied in a relieved tone. “Most definitely it will be over before midnight so people could be home to celebrate the start of Samhain with their families.”

Hermione frowned and repeated the word. “Samhain.”

Despite Rose delving deeply into wizarding holidays— ensuring Harry joined along with her and Sirius already familiar with the events given his upbringing—  the twins never brought it up much around Ron and Hermione beyond Yule itself. Not for any particular reason. Ron just never spoke much of them himself and Hermione was a Mugglebron. The only reason Rose knew about them was because she had Pureblood friends who offered her the information. In magical Britain there wasn't exactly an abundance of reading in wizarding holidays outside of Pureblood homes.

“It’s the magical celebration of Hallows Eve.” Rose offered.

“Halloween,” Ron added helpfully, though Hermione gave him a look that said she got that.

Hermione looked at Rose. “What exactly are the wizarding holidays? I’ve never heard of many people following them besides the one Yule Ball we had in fourth year.”

“Most Pureblood families celebrate them but the Ministry doesn’t really acknowledge the majority of them themselves.” 

“Are they bad?”

Harry shook his head at that. “No, they’re not. Two different Ministries we visited while travelling talked about celebrating them– one had baskets they gave out with things people could use to celebrate the holidays.” He smiled as he remembered their visit to Italy. “In Italy they gave us one for Ostara. It had some food, plants, seeds and a couple other things.”

With a frown, Hermione asked the same question Harry asked himself when he first started learning all of this stuff. “Why doesn’t Britain do that?”

Ron was the one to answer that, surprisingly enough, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been a surprise considering he was the only of them to actually grow up in the magical world. “The Ministry slowly stopped celebrating the magical holidays in favour of Muggleborn holidays like Christmas and Halloween.”

“Why wouldn’t they celebrate both?” Hermione demanded indignantly.

He shrugged in reply. “From what I remember, and what I’ve overheard my dad mentioning, there were a lot of people pushing to make Muggleborns more comfortable. Especially after having Dark Lords like Grindelwald and You-Know-Who running about. Dumbledore was the most notable one and Merlin knew people wanted to listen to his advice after he got rid of Grindelwald.”

“That makes no sense!” Hermione insisted, a stubborn look on her face. “They could welcome Muggleborn traditions but that doesn’t mean they had to hide and get rid of magical ones! Muggleborns are magical too!”

Rose was nodding her head slowly. “Therein lies the issue,” she said quietly. “Some Purebloods hate Muggleborns for these very changes, ignorant to the fact that most Muggleborns aren’t even aware of what the Ministry has decided to do on their behalf.”

Hermione had a familiar look on her face, the one she got whenever she found a cause to get behind, and Harry was certain that Hermione would soon be rallying for the reinstatement of the celebration of magical holidays.

“Ro’,” Hermione said firmly. “I want to know everything you know about magical holidays.”

Good luck to whoever wanted to stand in her way.

Some Pureblood always made sure to throw a Pre-Samhain party and this year it was Hadrian Greengrass. 

The Greengrass ballroom was done up in deep oranges and maroons matching the fall season but with blacks here and there to give it an elegantly warm and dark feeling. 

Barty had been eager to attend the party when the Greengrass’ had gifted five tickets to Lucius to offer to anyone he thought might wish to attend— in other words the Dark Lord or any inner circle escapees. His Lord neglected to attend, already having his own plans to prepare for Samhain, but Barty, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, Augustus Rookwood and Ivan Travers had all decided to attend under the false identities that had been crafted for them all.

Barty lost track of Rookwood and Travers straight away but the Lestrange brothers lingered by him— more out of habit of watching him and Bella than any actual desire to spend the evening with him. Neither option bothered Barty, he found the idea of having babysitters rather humorous actually. And as he weaved his way through the crowds, his lithe form making it an easy task, he let out a nearly silent cackle as the brothers followed behind him with much less grace with their bigger frames— Rodolphus more so than Rabastan.

The music playing was rather haunting, fitting with the party’s theme, and there was a checkered black and white marble floor that had numerous people waltzing upon it.

Some of those in attendance knew who they were, outer circle members who were allowed to know the truth, and Barty knew it was only a matter of time before the Order figured it out and started trying to alert the Ministry.

Not that they’d make much headway.

The Order of the Phoenix had truly dropped in numbers both following the lack of proof of his Lord’s return and Dumbledore’s death. Moody was calling the shots now from what their intel told and he only had a handful of people still joined up— half of which were more on the outskirts than actually going on missions. They more or less left an open offer to fight if a war did happen but so long as nothing was remiss they wouldn’t be involved.

Albus Dumbledore must surely be rolling in his grave considering what the beloved group he created had become.

Bella had been particularly put out that Andy’s— Andromeda; her younger sister— daughter had pulled out, knowing full well that their Lord wouldn’t want them running off to fight their own vendettas and the odds of her running into the girl were now non-existent since she left the Auror ranks.

News had spread about the girl now being pregnant with the wolf’s baby— and boy did Bella rage at that— but her hands were tied with Lupin being under the Dark Lord’s protection. Or more accurately Potter’s protection. It stood to reason that the man’s future heir would fall under the same protection; since their Lord was actively staying on good terms with the Potter twins.

Speaking of Potter—

Barty stopped where he was, absently aware of his keepers doing the same, as he spotted Rose Potter not far away. The girl was dressed in dark robes, her hair pinned up leaving her scar plain to see, and at her side was Alexander’s spare.

Adrian Pucey, if Barty remembered correctly, another one on Potter’s list.

News had spread about that too. The inner circle, as well as Pureblood circles, had heard about the youngest Pucey heir courting Rose Potter— or Black, as that’s what Alexander was no doubt after with the match.

He remembered the boy from his time as a professor at Hogwarts, always shadowing Rose Potter whether from a distance or right by her side. The boy was loyal, much like Barty himself to his Lord, as such Barty didn’t see him doing anything Rose Potter didn’t allow. The boy— man now— was a striking figure, taking after his mother rather fortunately in Barty’s opinion. Alexander was as unpleasant outside as he was inside, though his wife Ophelia had the dark hair and pale complexion that most Purebloods envied. That coupled with the Pucey blue eyes made both their heirs rather appealing in the eyes of many heiresses.

This proved fruitful as their oldest was married and now, if rumours were to be believed, their youngest was well sought out by those who were willing to wait and see how this courtship with Potter played out. Barty was still wondering if this whole thing was genuine or simply a means of staying Alexander's hand for a bit, as from what he heard Adrian Pucey wasn’t one for dating in general, far more career focused.

He liked his time at Hogwarts for a great many reasons but one of the main ones was his ability to spy on the Potter twins. They were a curious pair and he hadn’t had much expectations going into his mission but he found it to be illuminating. It didn’t take a genius to see the two were very skilled; Harry Potter far more in Defence Against the Dark Arts in comparison to his sister. His first lesson where he casted the Imperius Curse on them had him— for just a split second— scared and then mostly wanting to cackle. 

Barty didn’t let himself spare much thought on either one in the time following, for the most part because he was sure they wouldn't be around much longer. Why waste time wondering about two kids who were going to die? But then his Lord had a change of heart… or a contract drawn up to be more exact, and while Barty still didn’t know why, he followed his Lord’s orders as readily as he did all others. 

Which meant now he had time to wonder about those Potter twins and what was in store for them next.

“You are not supposed to be antagonising the Potter heirs,” Rodolphus murmured in reminder just behind him. 

With a grin Barty said. “I have no plans to antagonise her. Just chat.” Then without further warning he all but skipped off in the direction of the two he was just so closely observing. He didn’t have to look back to know the Lestrange brothers were sharing a glance, one would be faintly amused while the other bordering on long suffering.

Upon reaching the two, Barty happily greeted the pair. “Heir Pucey. Heir Black.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed briefly, and Barty realised his father would have likely told him of the inner circle’s alter identities, but Rose Potter only nodded briefly in her own greeting, eyes darting behind Barty to where Rodolphus and Rabastan were no doubt catching up.

The inner circle alter identities were not too unlike their own image. The Lestrange brothers were both tall with olive skin and dark hair but their eyes were not their well-known dark blue but rather a deep brown that neared on black and their general features more neutral than their typical broodiness. Barty’s hair was blond rather than brown, and not blond like the Malfoy’s but a deeper blonde that was far too light to be considered brown. His skin held more of a pink undertone than its normal tan but he was not pale skinned like the average Pureblood was.

“We haven’t met before,” Adrian said, silently asking for his name.

Sticking out his hand, Barty cheerfully introduced himself. “Barry Coleman.” As the boy shook his hand he waved his other hand behind him. “That’s Ruban and Rupert Lionheart.”

The two brothers had been near furious at the last name Yaxley created for them, the sound of it practically screaming Gryffindor. It seemed Potter picked up on that fact as a faint smile seemed to quirk her lips as she asked. “Are there Gryffindors in the family?”

Rodolphus’ jaw clenched tightly and he bit out. “No. We’re from France.”

Barty got the feeling she knew who they were, more than likely the man at her side readily informed her after finding out from his father, but the awareness didn’t leave her wrongfooted. 

Not that she should be, Barty realised. She was by far one of the safest people in their presence given the Dark Lords’ rules and their trio’s particularly fierce loyalty to the man. 

“Congratulations,” Barty said next, breezing past the previous topic with ease. “I had heard the youngest Pucey heir was courting the Black heir.” His comment was met with nothing more than rather unimpressed expressions. Clearly the two were not all that in need of hearing praise or congratulations for their situation. While most would take a pause or feel put off by the reaction, Barty only grinned. “Your brother didn’t come tonight?” Barty asked then, his eyes already darting around to look for the other Potter twin.

“No, he’s at home.”

The girl wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but then again Barty had already known that. 

Adrian seemed to decide to take the reins from there, shooting Barty an unreadable look. “I see some friends of ours. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Coleman.” He was leading Potter away before Barty could say much else, though the girl didn’t look at all put out about it.

Barty wanted to cackle at the interaction but his eyes caught sight of a new form of entertainment. Lucius’ little heir was currently standing alongside his fiancée just across the room and the sight of the weasel-like boy had Barty moving at once. He heard Rodolphus sigh behind him but he never let that deter him.

“Heir Malfoy,” Barty greeted once he reached him, feet itching to start bouncing in place once he stopped moving. He was unable to completely mask the sing-song tone in his voice as he spoke and he watched as the boy's face looked borderline bored and annoyed before it went pale and stiff when he spotted Barty.

Yes, Lucius’ heir knew exactly what their alter identities looked like.

A quick glance at his new fiancée didn’t give Barty much insight if she knew but he imagined she did considering this was her father’s party.

“Mr. Coleman,” Draco greeted stiffly, his arm linked with his future brides and his eyes flickering to Rodolphus and Rabastan.

“Heir Greengrass,” Barty said next, bowing mockingly to the girl, not that she’d know that. “Your father certainly knows how to throw an event.”

“Thank you,” the girl— what was her name again?— replied graciously.

Barty had just opened his mouth to make some barb about Draco’s Dark Mark, the thing always seemed to make him extra squirrely, when a flash of pain erupted on his forearm. He didn’t have to look behind him to know that Rodolphus and Rabastan just had similar experiences and without missing a beat Barty said. “As much as I’m enjoying myself, we must get going. Do thank your father for inviting us.”

The relief on the Malfoy heir’s face was a thing of great amusement but Rodolphus’ hand curling around his elbow had him moving before he could poke at that particular dragon.

Another night then.

One by one he and the Lestrange brothers quickly made their exits, answering to their Lord’s call without hesitation, and between one blink in the next they were back within the familiar halls of the Dark Lord’s manor.

“Merlin, I don’t know why I bother to attend parties,” Rodolphus gruffed as they started heading down the hall, Barty skipping ahead of them with a bright grin on his face.

He could hear the amused smile on Rabastan’s face as he said. “Sometimes it’s entertaining— the worst thing is when you have the opportunity to witness something outrageous and miss out because of your own reclusiveness.”

Barty tuned the two brothers out as he got further away, his pace having him a bit ahead of the pair as they arrived at their Lord’s office. He didn’t hesitate to all but hop in the doorway, eyes landing on their Lord seated behind his desk.

His Lord was scanning some papers in his hand and Barty didn’t bother taking one of the two chairs in front of the desk, his energy having him preferring to stand so he could move about a bit while they spoke. Rodolphus was the first to sit, his long strides heading straight for one of the chairs once he arrived and Rabastan was quick to join him.

“My Lord,” Rodolphus murmured in greeting while Barty and Rabastan focused all their attention on him, ready for orders of some kind.

Their Lord didn’t say anything at first, instead continuing to read whatever it was he was looking through when they arrived. After almost five minutes he pushed the papers aside and looked over the three of them; first at the Lestranges in the chairs then over at Barty by the bookshelf.

“I already spoke to Bella and she gave me her list of information—” he said first off, gesturing over to the papers he was just reading with an absent hand “— now, what have you been able to uncover about possible traitors?”

They all straightened at the question, Barty pushing off from his leaning position where he was standing. 

“It’s the power hungry ones who are more likely to jump ship— at least if Grindelwald does make a lot of headway,” Rabastan started off in a serious tone of voice, his dark eyes steady on their Lord. “I think a bigger issue we have to keep an eye on are those susceptible to blackmail or intimidation.”

“We spoke with Nott about the people he’s been set to recruit,” Rodolphus added deeply. “They will be the most crucial to watch but we’ve scouted out for anyone else who have accumulated circumstances that could be used as blackmail against them.”

That had been Barty’s job. If there was one thing he was good at— besides dueling and defence— it was getting close to people and figuring out the secrets they held inside. Infiltration was rather easy for him. Some people, the more snobbish of the bunch, were careless with what they said around him too. Likely because they believed him to be a bit mad and thus not a threat.

Morons.

He swiped a piece of paper that he had had on him for the last few weeks, one that steadily gained information, and handed it over to his Lord at once. “Dolohov is as loyal as they come and it will take a lot for Travers to turn but there is a chance. If Avery and Macnair decide to jump ship— the most likely out of the four— it may be enough for Travers to do so as well and there is a high chance Dolohov will go with them more out of loyalty to their longtime friendship.”

The four had been friends since they were in Hogwarts, had all received their Dark Marks together and were a well working group when it came to missions. Ever since they joined they had been a team and Barty was honestly surprised that Macnair and Avery didn’t join the other two in Azkaban when their Lord was injured. Then again Avery was a coward and Macnair was always one to pick the favourable option when faced with a decision.

Their Lord nodded silently as he read the list, likely having already come to this conclusion himself. Barty’s eyes darted to the papers from earlier and he half wanted to laugh at what was likely a book of information from Bella.

“Yaxley is a climber,” Rabastan threw in, his voice coated with contempt. “If he’s offered a position that he sees as better than what he has here then there’s a good chance he takes it.”

Rodolphus sat forward minutely, his broody expression locked on their Lord despite him not glancing his way as he continued to read. “Crabbe and Goyle aren’t likely to switch but they can be careless with information at times and may unknowingly spill secrets.”

Their Lord finally put aside Barty’s report and he looked at them contemplatively. “I suspect we will have to prepare for the possibility of Grindelwald sending in recruits to join our ranks as spies.” He sat back in his seat, tenting his fingers under this chin as he stared off at nothing in particular. “For the time being I will slow the marking rates. Any information to be shared will be done only to those bearing the Dark Marks but we will use whatever tools we may have access to so long as they remain in the dark. Finally, when we do mark new followers I want it in small groups and inner circle members watching the newer members for a period of time.”

“Like how things were done with Lucius’ heir?” Rodolphus asked quietly.

A shake of their Lord’s head. “Not so closely. Simply overviewing missions and perhaps assigning a secondary leader within groups who can be seen as more of a peer to them— one that they will be more open about information with.”

Made sense. Newer Death Eaters were far too nervous about inner circle members— and most knew who inner circle members were by the time they joined— that they all but quivered in their boots in their presence. At least a younger, or at least less official, Death Eater supervising them will offer more opportunities for camaraderie.

“Should we enact a vouching system?” Their Lord glanced at Rabastan as he spoke, raising a brow in a silent prompt for him to go on. “We could set it up so that new recruits need a vouch from at least two different families, more in particular for foreign wizards,” he explained with a frown on his face as he thought his own idea over.

With a minute tilt of his head, their Lord said. “That would be best, we will make it three families instead. I want to spread our reach but with Grindelwald likely to be in play we risk the possibilities of spies more and more.” He shot all three of them a look. “Spread the word about a vouching system, our next marking won’t be until Yule.”

The words were both an order and dismissal and all three men knew that at once. The two brothers stood with a bow of the head while Barty eagerly went to start their task, always happy to be the one to dole out new information.

Things were certainly getting interesting around here.

Chapter Text

The swift but evenly paced sound of almost silent footsteps thumped upon the ancient rug running down the hall of Grindelwald’s manor. His plans had been coming along smoothly over the last couple of months. He was now back to the best health he could hope for at his age; eyes no longer sunken in, cheeks filled out and wrinkles visibly less pronounced. He gained more followers, nowhere near where it once was but plenty for now. There weren’t nearly as many from Britain as he’d like, most from Germany and its neighbouring countries, but it was still early. 

On another note he managed to get a few of the ‘Dark Lord’ Voldemort's lower ranks but they were useless for information, power hungary cretins looking to climb in another following due to their failure in their first. Grindelwald had his eyes set on one of the inner circle members. He was confident in his ability to sway some of those who held him to such high esteem. It was a difficult task to figure out, most of them deathly loyal to their Lord, but there were those who were discontent with the seemingly lack of progress. Impatient and blind to the true delicacy in taking over a country.

“My Lord.”

With a glance upward from where he had been striding mindlessly down his manor halls, Grindelwald saw his First General, one of the Acolytes who lived in his manor with him, standing outside his office and now dipped in a bow.

Without pause, Grindelwald greeted him as he walked into his personal study. “Gregor. Join me.” 

He immediately crossed to his desk, hearing Gregor following behind him and by the time he took his seat the other man was seated in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “How are our plans?”

Gregor was one of his most loyal followers having joined his cause early on and remaining steadfast over countless decades. Out of all his Acolytes he was the one Grindelwald trusted in the most, the first one he contacted after his escape.

“Everything is in place for the end of the month,” Gregor rasped, his voice fragile with age but his expression vicious and ready.

Grindelwald smiled, pleased to hear this; he had known when he assigned Gregor with the task of preparing for the event that he wouldn’t disappoint. 

It had been him who helped with the plan to retrieve his precious Elder Wand.

Wielding the Wand once again had been a heady feeling but there was a faint worry in the back of his mind. Something telling him how the Elder Wand wasn’t listening to him as well as it had decades ago. He wanted to believe he was imagining it but made an absent note to look into Albus’ death regardless. One didn’t become a Dark Lord by not trusting their instincts.

Glancing over at Gregor once more, eyes having strayed in his pensive thoughts, he said. “Let’s go over our plan once more.”

Without hesitation he pulled out a scroll and began to unroll it on the desk between them. He instantly pointed to one area, already speaking words Grindelwald had heard numerous times before but he listened to intently nonetheless.

November had rolled by rather uneventfully and before anyone knew it the holidays were upon them. Ron’s holiday this year was very different in comparison to last year— and all the years before that. 

To start the day he woke up in the flat he now shared with Hermione and the two of them opened gifts in the living room they worked so hard to decorate for the holidays. It was a lot quieter than at the Burrow but Ron loved it. After they had lunch they went to meet up with the rest of the family at the Burrow, popping in to give seasonal greetings as well as try some of the treats his mum had a habit of making this time of year. 

No matter how old Ron was he’d always come back for those treats, it wouldn’t be Christmas without them.

Honestly Christmas season the last few years always left Ron a bit relieved. Despite their decision to stand out of the war he knew Hermione still worried about the whole thing. Worried in a way that said a part of her wanted to fight. Except during the holidays; a time that she chose to focus on her loved ones rather than the rest of the world. The added distraction of his girlfriend's newest job was also a good bonus, Hermione now focused on furthering her career as well as her side goal of getting more recognition for wizarding holidays. 

Still, Ron could never put the thought completely out of mind; that Hermione was a fighter first and foremost. 

It was stalled while You-Know-Who was in the shadows but the day he decided to make himself known filled Ron with trepidation. Whenever that day came he knew Hermione would become dangerously close to toeing the line in terms of Rose’s contract. He was still staying out of it, it had been the family decision to do so and Ron wouldn’t go against his family.

It was the best move for them.

If one of them got involved, all would get involved, and Ron knew for a fact that their family was just too big for all of them to make it through a war alive. He knew they would lose someone— they just weren’t that lucky. Merlin knew it was hard enough for the family with Percy not speaking to them— at least he was alive, at least he was out there somewhere they could find him. So yeah, Ron would stick by his family; he just hoped that fact didn’t cost him Hermione. 

But he wouldn’t dwell on that now—

Now, Ron and Hermione were at Grimmauld Place. The main parlour was empty when they came in but that didn't deter them, instead following the sound of Christmas music down to the kitchen.

Harry, Rose and Sirius were, as per tradition, in the middle of what looked like a serious gingerbread house making competition. Harry had a simple house, a relaxed grin on his face as he worked on it. In stark contrast was Rose and Sirius, both of whom were sporting identical looks of concentration. Rose had more of a castle than a house, her pieces stacking up high in different spots, while Sirius had more of a mansion going, taking up the space well past his seating area.

“Happy holidays!” Hermione said happily as they crossed the kitchen.

Harry looked up, a bright smile breaking out on his face at the sight of them, but neither Rose nor Sirius moved. Huffing in amusement Harry abandoned his house that was starting to lean to one said and said. “Ignore them. They’re way too competitive considering the activity.”

The two in question simultaneously waved away Harry’s words which had Ron chuckling. He gave Harry a quick hug before going to get a closer look at what the small family was working on.

“How has your day been so far?” Hermione asked Harry from behind him.

He didn't have to see Harry’s face to know he would still be smiling. “Great! We mostly just opened gifts and then started this.”

Ron looked over his shoulder at Harry. “What’d you get?”

“This and that,” Harry said with a wave of his hand. “Quidditch stuff, treats, pranking stuff, a Wealsey sweater. Sirius got me a pack of this stuff I’ll need when I take up my ‘Lordship’; quills, parchment, stuff like that.”

“How exciting!” Hermione said at the last bit which made Ron smile at her fondly.

Harry continued on. “Ro’ got some knives.”

“Knives?” Ron and Hermione repeated.

The word had Rose finally looking over at them as she corrected. “Not knives— Chinese Ring Daggers.” With nothing but a gesture towards a box on the counter Rose went back to her task.

The two of them moved over to it as Harry explained. “It was Ro’s gift from Pucey.”

They opened the box and lying on a velvet cushion were three sharp looking daggers. The hilt was short, just long enough for a hand to hold, and it had a ring on the end. They were all black but with a faint green tint to them when in the right light.

“They’re nice,” Hermione said sincerely.

“I know, right?” Rose said distractedly. Ron grinned at her enthusiasm. It may not seem like it but for Rose that was a pretty big response.

“Don’t touch them,” Harry warned them suddenly. “Apparently they’re really hard to heal from and will leave a scar.”

That had the two of them yanking their hands back from the box much to Harry’s open amusement. Perhaps they should’ve expected something like that considering it was a Slytherin’s gift to another Slytherin.

In a joking tone, Ron said. “I’ll have to read the warning label that came with them.”

“Pucey explained it this morning.”

“He was here?” Hermione said in surprise.

Harry just nodded as if it was not much news and asked instead. “Where you planning to go next today?”

Ron and Hermione shared a glance and the latter said. “We’ll probably go visit my parents.” 

“What about you guys?” Ron asked

“I’m not sure,” Harry said and he rubbed at the back of his head absently. “We didn’t have much of a plan.”

In a still distracted tone Rose murmured. “I want to take flowers to Mum and Dad.”

Harry looked over at her, as did Sirius, but neither voiced any objection and the older of the two easily said. “We can go in a bit. I haven’t washed up yet.”

After another hour of conversation and a final look at the gingerbread houses— Rose won, though Sirius claimed she used magic to keep her pieces up— Ron and Hermione took their leave. If Ron knew his girlfriend, and he did, she’d want to spend a long while with her parents; plus he didn’t want to hold up Harry and Rose’s plans to go to their parents’ grave.

All in all this year's holidays were great all around and when it came to next year Ron just hoped for all good things— like the last few years had been.

Evan Brown was coming up on the end of his fourth month of his fifth year at Hogwarts. He was proud to say he was in Hufflepuff and while he wasn’t the most popular kid around he did have a lot of great friends and was never lonely during the school year.

Today he was in Hogsmeade, having made the decision to stay at the castle over the holidays this year with a group of friends. When the trip to the small village was scheduled for the twenty-ninth he had— at the urging of his friends— asked a girl in his year to go with him. 

Like on a date.

He was nervous, beyond nervous really considering it was his first date, but he was also very excited. Much to Evan’s enthusiasm Abby seemed to be just as happy to be out with him.

Abby was in the same year as him, though she was in Ravenclaw. She was— in Evan’s admittedly biased opinion— by far the prettiest girl in their year. With long blonde hair, warm brown eyes and a shy smile that always had a dimple appearing in one of her cheeks.

It was a bit chilly out, both of them wrapped up in their House scarves; Evan a warm yellow while Abby’s was a deep blue. The skies were thankfully clear and the ground was covered in pale white snow that crunched under their feet as they walked further into the village. The two of them had gone to check out the Weasleys prank store first, then Abby wanted to go buy some candies, and now they were headed to the Three Broomsticks Inn to get a drink.

The streets were packed, as they normally were on weekends like this— plus with the holidays upon them more people were free to stop in to visit the place— the third years and up who stayed at Hogwarts were all eager to come to the village. They were so packed that Evan’s shoulder would periodically brush against Abby’s and whenever it did they’d make a split second of eye contact before they both flushed and glanced away.

There were butterflies storming Evan’s stomach and it was almost impossible for him to hold back his smile. He was just debating whether or not to take the risk to reach for her hand when—

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The sound didn’t register at first but when loud screams followed Evan immediately spun around.

It was the oddness of numerous people in the same coloured robes that registered first, all of them with their wands out. Evan watched on in incomprehension as one of them pointed their wand at a building and with a loud blast the front of Madam Puddifoots exploded, the sign flying off and debris hitting those closest. 

Evan didn’t waste time staring any longer as he reached out to grab Abby’s hand and the two of them started running up the street. Everyone around them had the same idea and it was a constant push and shove as they tried to find shelter.  

The almost constant screams around them filled Evan with a sick feeling in his stomach, butterflies long gone and now replaced with what felt like a ball of lead. All the while more blasts rang out and the cries of some people could be heard amongst the screams. Another blast sent the earth spinning around Evan and he was hit with the faint realisation that he was flying through the air, as were the group of people around him, and Evan hit the ground before the realisation fully registered in his mind. 

He slammed into the ground hard, his breath ripped from his lungs as his ears started to ring and his head spun. 

It took a few seconds for Evan to notice he wasn’t holding Abby’s hand anymore and he struggled to push himself upright. His head darted around, pain shooting through him at the movement, and he felt cold as he saw the bodies lying about, some struggling to get their bearings while others were scarily still.

A quick scan of the rest of Hogsmeade revealed that people were still running, the robed figures were still shooting spells every which way and multiple shops were now on fire.

It was through a heavy fog that Evan eyes trailed to the immediate area around him and he froze as he spotted Abby lying nearby— his heart stopped when he saw her staring unseeingly back at him, blood painting the snow beneath her head a sickening scarlet colour and staining her blonde hair. Evan couldn’t move. It was like the shock had frozen his limbs far better than even a Petrificus Totalus could.

A hand grabbed his arm roughly and before he could panic he recognised Henry, his best friend, dragging him upward.

“We have to move, Ev! We have to run!”

He didn’t fight Henry’s movements, pushing his feet under himself and joining the rest of the crowd that was fleeing into the distance, kids desperate to get back to the safety of Hogwarts. A quick glance back had Evan spotting some Auror’s— appearing at last and quickly fighting against the group of attackers— and the last thing he noticed before turning the ben to Hogwarts was a large symbol burning brightly on the Three Broomsticks Inn’s sign.

It was a large triangle, with a line straight down the middle and a circle inside touching all three sides. A lifetime of living in the magical world and an odd obsession with history was what helped Evan identify the symbol straight away.

Grindelwald’s Mark.

Grindelwald Strikes at Hogsmeade!

The Daily Prophet was laid out on the kitchen table at the Burrow, the front page clear to see as was the report of the attack. Seven dead, three adults and four kids, and numerous others injured; none of this included the vast amount of property damage.

Harry and Rose had come to meet Ginny here early that morning, Ron and Hermione already there when they arrived. Mr. Weasley was at work, definitely having a long day as the Ministry of Magic would no doubt be in a right mess right about now, and Mrs. Weasley was at Bill and Fleurs, the couple having invited her to stay with them after Yule until the New Year.

She was probably a mess right about now too.

“I can’t believe this! Where were the Aurors!”

Hermione was predictably up in arms, who wouldn’t be really, and she had been appalled at just how much damage Grindelwald’s men were able to do.

“It takes time to respond,” Ron said quietly, staring at the paper solemnly. “Someone has to notify them and if the attackers put up anti-Apparation wards then it’ll take time to get in…” 

While they all remembered Grindelwald’s escape, Merlin knew people couldn't stop talking about it for so long, as the months went by and nothing else happened people grew lax.

Harry glanced at the paper again. “How do they know it’s him for sure?”

“The mark,” Ginny said, pointing out the flaming symbol that was dead centre of the picture accompanying the headline.

Reaching out, Harry snagged the edge of the paper and dragged it closer to himself, absently aware of Hermione standing up and pacing in her agitated state. He eyed the symbol and frowned as it sparked something in the back of his mind.

Ron apparently recognised something in his expression. “What are you thinking?”

“It looks familiar.”

Ron turned his attention back to his girlfriend, holding out a hand in a silent request for her to sit back down with him, worry clear on his face. “You probably saw it in a book or something,” he offered to Harry with a distracted shrug.

“Are Fred and George okay?” Hermione asked as she took Ron’s hand, her face still bunched up in a mixture of emotions.

Harry barely heard her question as he shook his head at Ron’s words. “I’ve never read about Grindelwald.” He quietly murmured, “it would have been nice to learn about him in History class rather than a bunch of goblin wars.”

Hermione finally sat back down, nodding her emphatic agreement even as she leaned next to Harry to reread the article, and it was Ginny who answered her earlier question. “Yeah, they’re fine. They locked up the shop pretty quick once they realised what was going on, they had a bunch of kids hiding inside until the Aurors gave the all clear.”

“It is familiar,” Harry repeated, still stuck on his earlier thoughts and glancing to his left at his sister now.

Rose finally frowned, sitting up and silently asking for the paper to which he handed it over quickly, for now ignoring Hermione’s protesting sound. He watched as she looked at it for a few seconds before her brows lifted and a light of something sparked in her eyes.

Harry spoke as soon as he spotted the look. “You know it.”

With a nod, Rose stood up gesturing for him to follow. He didn’t hesitate to listen but Ron, Hermione and Ginny paused long enough to share a glance before following after them too. They trailed after Rose outside, much to Harry’s confusion, but his sister didn’t offer any explanation, instead marching determinedly further and further from the Burrow.

“Where do you know it?”

“Where are we going?”

“Are you going to answer?”

Despite the countless questions Rose didn’t give any response, instead remaining silent as she moved ahead of them.

It was clear outside, the weather much the same as yesterday with clear skies and a snowy landscape all around them. Ginny caught up to Harry and wrapped an arm around his waist, helpfully distracting his impossible need for answer for the time being as she talked about her training. Ron and Hermione were quick to follow her lead though both looked just as eager for answers from Rose as Harry was— they were best friends for a reason.

It was Ginny who figured out where Rose was taking them, though it took her a bit longer than it should have due to her being distracted by her own tales. It was only when she spotted a familiar house that she voiced her awareness aloud.

“We’re going to Luna’s.”

Harry looked around curiously, having never been to Luna’s home before. The place itself was a black-coloured cylindrical house on top of a hill with a stream at the base. It looked to Harry like a giant version of the chess piece ‘rook’. 

The front gate, when they got to it, was broken down and a path zigzagged up through a garden of odd plants to the front door. When Rose stopped in front of it she pulled a string that set off a series of whimsical chimes and they didn’t have to wait long for the door to open and a smiling Luna was revealed.

It was the first time Harry had seen Luna since he graduated and she looked the same as ever. With her long blonde hair in messy waves with a few random braids here and there tied with little bobbles, her wide blue eyes intent on them and a familiar set of radish earrings in her ears. She was dressed in colourful robes and her wand was tucked behind her ear. She was a sight for sore eyes, Harry suddenly realised, a matching smile breaking out on his face the longer he stood there.

“It’s good to see you all again,” Luna said in a dreamy voice, her smile never leaving her face.

Rose smiled back at her. “Can we come in, Luna?”

“Of course,” Luna said without hesitation and the blonde led them further into her home. 

They walked into the kitchen first, a perfectly circular room painted bright colours with flowers, insects and birds; Harry suspected they were painted by Luna herself. In the centre was an iron spiral staircase that must’ve led to the rest of the house considering Harry couldn’t see any doors besides the one they just came through.

“Would you like tea?” Luna asked them, airily gesturing to where a tea kettle and a ceramic bowl that had ‘tea’ written on it with loopy writing was sitting on the counter.

Rose moved closer to her. “I’ll prepare it.”

Luna, forever a girl happy to go with the flow, smiled serenely and looked at the rest of them. “We’ll go to the living room then, it’s just upstairs.”

So as Rose stayed in the kitchen to get their tea ready, Harry and the others followed Luna up the staircase.

“How was your trip with your father? Did you find the Crumple-Horned Snorkack?” Ginny asked Luna conversationally.

After her graduation in June, Luna and her father went on a much more extended trip looking for various magical creatures that may or may not exist. It was something they did almost every summer but with Luna out of school now they were able to stretch out the trip— according to what Ginny had told Harry at least.

The living room was smaller than the kitchen, though more cluttered and just as round. There were books and papers on every surface and the ceiling had small delicate looking models of creatures that flapped their wings and snapped their jaws. As Luna began excitedly telling them about her trip, Harry saw what must be Luna’s father’s printing press for his magazine; The Quibbler. He took a seat in one of the numerous chairs around the coffee table, the others doing the same as they listened to Luna speak.

“... and while we didn’t find one, we did find its horn.” Luna finished and pointed up to where a horn was mounted high above their fireplace.

Hermione let out a gasp but before she could say anything Luna looked over at Harry. “Thank you for the graduation gift you and Rose got me. It was a great help for me and my father on our expedition.”

Harry smiled a bit awkwardly but he was saved from saying anything as Rose came in with a tray that had a teapot and teacups. As she leaned down to put the tray on the hexagonal coffee table he murmured. “We got Luna a gift?”

“Of course,” was all Rose said and it made Harry smile, glad his sister was so on the ball with things.

“Luna,” Hermione said firmly and it filled Harry with a bit of hesitance as he heard a rather stubborn tone in her voice. “That horn is from an Erumpent and it’s highly volatile. It could explode at any minute.”

As go-with-the-flow Luna could be there was one notable topic that was the glaring expectation— and sure enough she frowned at Hermione’s words and retorted. “It’s from a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. My Daddy said so.”

Hermione looked ready to push the matter but Rose spoke before she could. “Luna, I couldn’t find the milk and sugar.”

Luna looked over at Rose. “I’ll grab them,” she said happily and stood once more, heading back down the stairs. 

When it appeared Hermione was about to explode Rose just hushed her, stepping up onto the couch cushions then onto the back frame bringing herself closer to the horn.

“It is from a Erumpent,” Hermione hissed.

Rose only said, “I know,” as she began to move her hands around it in slow purposeful movements. Harry could feel his sister’s magic swirling around suddenly, a familiar feeling from whenever they practiced magic together, and then it snapped away just as fast. After that Rose stepped down to sit next to Harry.

“What did you do?” Hermione asked, her face pinched with worry.

After a quick glance at the staircase, Rose told her. “I put a containment spell around it. If it explodes it won’t damage anything.”

The words made Hermione breathe easier— despite her and Luna’s opposing opinions, Harry knew she cared a lot about the younger girl— and Luna finally came back up, two bowls in hand. She put them down and one had what Harry assumed was a powdered cream while the other had sugar cubes.

As they each started to prepare their tea Rose looked at Luna. “I had a specific reason for visiting,” she said outright, the blonde watching her expectantly. “Grindelwald attacked Hogsmeade yesterday.”

“I heard about it,” Luna murmured quietly. “Daddy is very worried.”

“What do you know about his mark?” Rose asked, much to Harry’s surprise.

Why would Luna know anything about it?

Ron apparently read his mind as he frowned. “Why would Luna know anything more about it?”

“She was wearing a necklace with it during Bill’s wedding,” Rose replied, not even glancing at Ron.

How exactly his sister would remember a detail like that, especially considering it was a whole wedding for someone else, was beyond Harry. Then again given she didn’t like speaking with people Rose did tend to observe crowds far more than the average person would. He was surprised to hear that Luna apparently had a necklace with the same mark Grindelwald was using and his mind struggled to remember seeing it, the only thing coming to mind being the bright yellow dress robes the girl had worn that day.

“It’s not Grindelwald’s mark. He stole it.”

Now Ginny was frowning, all but abandoning her half made tea as she stared at Luna. “What do you mean?”

“It’s the mark of the Deathly Hallows.”

As one the twins, Ron and Ginny suddenly realised where they had seen the symbol before but Hermione was still confused. Ron noticed this and quickly informed her. “It’s from a magical children’s storybook.”

Harry gestured between him and Rose and added. “Sirius showed it to us years ago after we first went to our parents’ graves. It’s about three brothers who meet Death.”

“Like death -Death?”

And together Harry, Ron and Ginny retold the Tale of the Three Brothers to Hermione, each adding their own parts and Ginny going as far as to use theatrical voices much to Harry’s glee. 

How three brothers travelling together reached a treacherous river and made a bridge with magic to get across. How halfway over it they met the personification of Death who was angry about losing three possible victims. How he pretended to be impressed by them and granted each one a wish as a reward.

The oldest brother asked for an unbeatable wand— the Elder Wand. 

The middle brother asked for the ability to resurrect the dead— the Resurrection Stone.

The youngest didn’t trust Death and asked for a way to stop Death from following him— Death’s own Cloak of Invisibility.

Then the trick came; the brothers started to be claimed by Death anyways, far sooner than they likely would have had if they had not gotten their wishes. Two of them at least.

The eldest brother boasted about his Wand and was murdered in his sleep. 

The middle brother used his Stone to call upon the woman he loved but she was not fully alive and it drove him to kill himself so as to truly join her.

The youngest brother was the only one who managed to evade Death and live a full life, staying hidden until he grew old and passed on the Cloak to his own son; greeting Death like an old friend in the end.

Hermione had a pensive look on her face as they finished the story and Harry glanced around the room.

“What would you all want?” He asked curiously.

“The Cloak,” Hermione said.

“The Wand,” Ron and Ginny chimed as one.

Harry admitted. “I’d take the Stone…” He glanced at his sister. “What would you pick, Ro’?”

“It doesn't matter. They’re not real,” was all she said, apparently now bored of the topic after they figured out the mystery of the mark.

Harry rolled his eyes fondly at her and pressed. “But what if they were?”

It became a back and forth from there, the others making their own idle conversation all the while, and it took Harry about fifteen minutes to realise that Rose was intentionally not answering just to mess with him. They spent the rest of the morning with Luna and when they left it was with sincere promises to spend more time together now that Luna was back. 

Mrs. Weasley was probably home by now so Ron, Ginny and Hermione headed to the Burrow, the woman likely eager to see them as she always was when things like this happened. The twins headed home though; Harry heading straight for the library— a rare change up with the two of them— and when he found the book he was looking for he went up to his and Rose’s room.

Rose was already lying on her bed, Jörmy curled up by her feet, and Harry didn’t hesitate to plop himself down beside her, holding the book for her to see. His sister spared it a glance but didn’t seem to be too interested in Grindelwald’s apparent obsession with a fairy tale about Death.

When Harry got to the page where the Wand was brought up, he ran a finger down the length of the depiction, Rose watching him silently. “It looks like Dumbledore’s, right?” he murmured quietly before musing out loud. “I wonder if that’s why his wand was stolen… If Grindelwald stole it because he knew what it was…”

“Why exactly is this whole thing necessary?”

Harry was currently with Sirius in his study, his godfather shuffling through some papers while Harry was sprawled on a nearby chair. The holiday season, despite being over with, still lingered around in a way that had him feeling particularly lazy these days.

Sirius smiled distractedly at his question and simply said. “It’s tradition.”

“Traidition,” Harry repeated.

“A part of the courtship process is a meal with both of the main family members of each family.” Sirius told him as he tucked a few of his things away. 

“So Ro’ said,” Harry murmured as he watched the hands of an old clock tick silently.

Sirius finally glanced over at him. “Odds are Adrian’s father pushed for this event because of his own desperation to make ties with the Black family and Rosie and Adrian are simply humouring the man for now.”

Harry pointed at him absently. “Now that makes more sense.”

It was now nearing the middle of January, its third week approaching at a rapid pace along with this meal that had been in the works for about two weeks now. Sirius, as the head of the more esteemed family, was expected to host which he dutifully did so without any complaints. He wasn’t nearly as stingy about who he allowed to know the location of their family home but it still remained under the Fidelius Charm. Not like anyone other than Sirius could spill the beans on where the place was.

Harry wasn’t really complaining about the evening, he was just curious about the whole thing. His mind went to Ginny and the amount of times their main families ate together. Honestly during their dating period they did all the stuff Rose mentioned people courting did. Which made sense, considering Rose said the two things were essentially the same thing. He imagined Purebloods just had an obsessive fondness of using old-school language.

“You need to be respectful tonight, Harry,” Sirius warned him suddenly, making Harry’s head dart in his direction. “Even if the Pucey’s aren’t.”

“What are they like?” Harry asked curiously, unable to remember any interaction he had with any of them— if any.

Sirius made a face which wasn’t that promising for the evening to come. “Ophelia Pucey is a mostly quiet woman– she used to be an Avery and that family is known to be a rather fierce one. Alexander Pucey is an unpleasant man, as unpleasant as most lower Dark Purebloods are at least. He’s obsessed with making his family name more well known and takes great pride in the fact that the Pucey line has never had a squib.” Sirius finally cleared off the last of his things and crossed to lean against the front of his desk a few feet from Harry. “I don’t know much about Nathaniel Pucey except that he’s married and now expecting a child, and that he works in a prominent law firm.”

Harry had pushed himself more upright in his seat after Sirius first started speaking and was nodding along silently to each description, pairing it all to the one person he actually knew from that family.

To be perfectly honest, Harry doesn’t know much about Adrian Pucey. Despite the guy being close with his sister for a great deal of years, Harry himself never spoke to him often. He was a silent person, much like Rose, and his brooding expression left the impression that he didn’t want anyone trying to change that. 

He was intimidating— that was it.

At least Marcus would chat and Montague had a pretty easy going personality as far as Slytherins went.

“Let’s go, they should be here any second.”

Harry stood up at once, straightening the dress robes Rose had laid out for him this morning. A fact that had him smiling in amusement just thinking about it. Rose was already in the main parlour, dressed in her own dress robes. They were sort of matching today, all three of them, the Black family crest somewhere on the outfits they each had on. 

Another tradition according to Rose.

When the Floo lit up Harry stood straighter. Pucey came through first, his father next, and he held out a hand when his mother came through, the woman steadying herself with it before moving to stand by her husband, and lastly was a guy Harry assumed was Pucey’s brother. 

Harry was quick to note their appearance. Pucey’s father wasn’t a very tall man, though not short by any means, and his general appearance caught Harry by surprise. Mainly because he didn't look much like the one son of his Harry knew, barring his eye colour. 

Now Pucey’s mother was a bit more expected. She was tall for a woman with pale skin and features that were sharp without being unsettling. She had the same nose as her youngest son, slim and petite, and full lips.

Pucey’s brother looked very similar to his younger brother; same eyes and general shape. Though where Adrian’s colouring leaned more to his mothers pale skin, Nathaniel’s went to their fathers more uneven skin tone. He wasn’t as tall or slim as Adrian but he wasn’t nearly as wide as their father.

Adrian— and Harry had to refer to him by name now considering there were now four Puceys in the room— greeted Sirius first with a firm handshake. He then moved towards Rose, dropping a swift peck to her cheek as he did so. The action had Harry’s nose wrinkling slightly, more due to the unfamiliarity of it all than any actual distaste to the action, but he managed to hold back any other reaction as he shook Adrian’s hand when the boy greeted him.

“Lord Black,” Adrian’s father greeted Sirius heartedly, his expression pleased and his eyes greedy as he glanced around the room.

Harry barely listened as the introductions were made and followed blindly as Sirius led them all to the formal dining room. The extra chairs from around the table had been removed for this dinner and the place setting was done up perfectly. Candles were placed throughout the room and kept the space lit with a warm glow.

Sirius sat at one end and the Pucey Lord on the other end. Harry was on Sirius’ right while Rose was on his left; the only other one on Rose’s side of the table was Adrian who was on his father’s right— though he and Rose were a bit farther from the ends of the table and closer to each other— and on Harry’s other side was Nathaniel Pucey and Lady Pucey, respectively.

The meal began with little fanfare, Sirius helping carry the conversation and keep it more in line with relevant things. An at times difficult job with the way Pucey tried to unsubtly lead the conversation to things he wanted.

“You never felt an inclination to get married yourself, Lord Black?” Lady Pucey asked at one point, her words almost absent as she cut up something on her plate. 

Sirius shook his head, taking a quick sip of his wine as before he said. “No, I’ve got my hands full with family business most of the time.”

“It would do well to have a wife,” Pucey said self-importantly. “A man needs a woman who will take care of the home and social gatherings.”

The only thing that had Harry holding back a snapping retort was the barely concealed annoyance on Adrian’s face and the lack of concern on his sister’s. This was hardly a marvel comment of the night but still it was irritating to have to listen to.

On a somewhat more positive note, Harry liked Adrian’s mother well enough. She wasn’t as sharp tongued as most Slytherin’s he’s met, though, as he’s surprised to learn, that’s because she was in Ravenclaw. Harry never really talked to many Ravenclaws, outside of Cho Chang and Luna that is— not counting those in the Defence club they had in fifth year— but she had a way of talking that made him think of Rose. Like certain things she said were in reference to something that one day Harry would wind up reading and he’d suddenly recall their current conversations.

Trust him, it happened a lot with his sister.

Adrian’s brother was alright, though he seemed to inline more with his father in comparison to his brother. Harry knew he had a Dark Mark, just like his father did, and he knew from Rose that he also believed that Adrian should be getting married and taking the mark.

To be perfectly honest Harry mostly zoned out through the whole evening. A whole lot of Pureblood political talk that Sirius navigated with ease but had Harry bored, especially after learning a lot of things along the same line all day with his godfather. 

Pucey was being what apparently was his normal annoying self at one point when Harry thought he heard a faint hiss. The growing smirk on his sister’s face let him know that he was not imagining it and that Jörmy was nearby. As Sirius and Pucey talked back and forth Adrian’s brother let out a sharp gasp and eyes darted to him in time to see Jörmy curled up over the back of his chair, leaning over his shoulder to get a closer look at the table.

“Don’t worry, he’s friendly,” Rose assured him smoothly, her first time speaking up since sitting down at the table. While the comment made Harry and Adrian smile, it apparently did little to reassure Nathaniel who leaned away from Jörmy.

“Rosie,” Sirius cut in. “Maybe now isn’t the time or place for Jörmy.” Despite his words, Harry could see the humour shining in his eyes.

Rose glanced at him and, after a beat, relented. She leaned closer to where Jörmy was and hissed. “Head down to the garden. Kreacher should be bringing you a rabbit soon.” The words worked like magic as Jörmy quickly reared back to slide off the chair.

Harry was of the belief that Jörmy was both the most sarcastic and hungriest snake there ever was.

In a faint voice, Nathaniel commented. “I heard you were a Parselmouth but it’s quite different hearing it in person.”

“I, myself, only heard it from you one other time before– at Lady Malfoy’s birthday celebration some years ago.” Adrian’s father threw in with a shrewd look in his eye. Rose only lifted a brow at the words and the man’s eyes darted to Sirius. “Do you think the two of them would pass the skill down to their own heirs?”

Harry watched Rose’s jaw clench at the audacity of the man, speaking about them as if they weren’t right there, and he clutched his fork tightly in his hand. 

“I’m unsure,” Sirius said evenly. “There have been no Potters with the ability until the twins and we have long since suspected that the only reason they can speak it is due to what happened on Samhain.”

The mention-but-not-mention of the Dark Lord had Lord Pucey and his eldest tensing slightly but Lady Pucey eased the conversation over by saying, “it will just have to be one of those things we wait and see about.”

The rest of the evening moved on quickly enough after that and Harry was relieved when the night was finally called to an end and they all headed back up to the main parlour. He was pretty sure he understood now more than ever just how exhausting Rose could find social interactions to be. It wasn’t that it was bad, it was just the expectation of it all that left it more uncomfortable than most dinners they had. Like when he ate at the Yule Ball.

As more formal words went around, this time goodbyes rather than greetings, Harry watched on. Adrian was the last to leave and he stopped to murmur something in Rose’s ear that Harry couldn’t hear but it made her smile in amusement. He was surprised to see a faint smirk on Adrian’s face too, it was about the most emotion he’d ever seen in the guy. 

Adrian took his leave soon after that and it wasn’t long before Rose looked over at Harry and Sirius.

“I think that went well.”

Sirius barked out an amused laugh while Harry shook his head fondly.

The Parkinson’s were throwing a ball for Imbolc.

If rumours were true it was more of a party for them to find a future husband for Pansy but they invited a lot of people, including some from out of the country. Essentially everyone from the Neutral and Dark families were invited to the event. Harry and Rose were attending, though more because they turned down the last two invitations they got to events and Rose was certain if they kept it up it wouldn’t be a good look for them.

“That’s easy for you to say, at least you have friends in this crew.”

“Make some friends then.” Was Rose’s response, plus an added, “you shouldn’t be such a recluse,” in a teasing voice. The irony of her statement had her very amused while Harry shot her a thoroughly unamused look.

They arrived to a lot of unfamiliar faces and the decorations were a lot lighter than what the Malfoy’s tended to favour, with the pale colours associated with Spring adorning the room. The space was big but in a rather gaudy way, like a screaming ‘look what large rooms we can afford’.

The two of them talked to a few people, some with accents Harry couldn’t recognize but others more familiar like French and German ones. After Rose wandered off Harry struck up a conversation with Daphne Greengrass of all people. She looked as Harry remembered from their Defence club, with straight blonde hair and pale skin that paired with icy blue eyes. The girl had a rather cold looking exterior and her words were spoken like each one was weighed with heavy consideration.

Harry learned that she was studying Healing now and he couldn’t help but comment. “Why wasn’t that at least somewhat taught at Hogwarts?”

“Hogwarts’ education system has gone down hill for years,” was Greengrass’s prompt reply.

“That’s what my sister says too,” Harry replied as he looked around, absently wondering who all these people were. Apparently Greengrass could read his curiosity well enough— honestly it was a given with him at this point— and she began to tell him about a few people.

First off she pointed discretely to a girl with long blonde hair with braids in the mix, her skin pale and her robes an olive green colour. “Her name is Elena Bachmann, her family is from Switzerland and are one of the oldest ones around there.”

Next was a guy with curly hair and bronze skin that looked to be Marcus’ age. “His name is Lorenzo Bernardi, his family, while not some of the oldest, is one of the wealthiest in all of Italy.”

“That’s his younger sister Luciana,” she told Harry pointing to the girl at his side who looked to be their own age. “She will be looking for a match tonight as she just graduated.”

She then gestured obscurely over at another group of guys. “Of course you’ll remember Viktor Krum.” Harry spotted him now, a few years older but still looking just as surely and unsure of the crowds as he had when Harry was fourteen. “Those are some of his mates from Bulgaria around him, most of whom are currently single or have started courtships.”

Greengrass then pointed to a girl with dark hair styled in curls with an assessing look on her face as she glanced around the room. “That’s Katrina Meier. Her family is very influential in Germany– your sister would do well to be careful with that one.”

“Why?” Harry asked straight away, already frowning at the girl.

“The girl has two older brothers, both of whom wed well and are carrying on the family name already, so she doesn't have much pressure on her in terms of who she will marry.” Greengrass made a face and said. “That and her family is notoriously misogynistic so her parents don’t pay her much mind as long as she doesn't do anything that could make the family look bad. Either way, the word is that she simply wants to find herself a young good-looking husband and her tastes lie in the direction of tall, dark haired and blue eyed.”

Harry understood the warning at once. That was a rather apt description of Adrian Pucey but then again there were plenty of others who had similar looks. He looked over at the girl and figured she couldn't be much older than him and Rose, probably closer to Pucey’s own age if anything.

Greengrass spoke again, distracting Harry from his observations, and she motioned over to a girl with dark hair and tan skin. “That’s Adara Dorkus, she has many proposals. Her family is very influential and she’s the sole heir.”

He had never really taken much notice of neighbouring magical communities until his fourth year when he met two different schools. Even then once the year was over the topic left his mind again until he started traveling with his sister and Sirius. Their travels had been more about locations though, they hadn’t really gotten to know the locals they met barring a few conversations here and there. It seemed Pureblood kids had all the things about families memorised— and not just for Britain— or maybe this was just a Daphne Greengrass thing.

With a frown on his face Harry glanced around them. “There are a lot of young single people.”

Smirking, Greengrass helpfully told him. “Someone always throws a party at this time and while they say it’s to celebrate Imbolc it’s really to give European families the opportunities to marry off their children and for those looking to find someone they might like.”

Yeah— Harry was starting to get that idea. As Greengrass excused herself he looked around the room, taking in everything with a lot more clarity now. The pairs or trios of people bunched together, the vague gesturing of others in groups at someone they were clearly interested in.

He made some more small talk with a few people, politely ignoring the glances he got at his scar and trying to dodge any clear interest that was shown towards him. Eventually he found his sister with an irritable expression on her face— irritable for her at least, no one else would really notice it.

“Are you aware that this is mostly a matchmaking party?” Harry asked once he reached her.

“Graham had mentioned it a few years ago but I hadn’t known for sure if this was the one. There are multiple parties going on this week, any one of them could’ve been it.”

Harry nodded distractedly as he looked across the room. He spotted Rose’s friends and didn’t hesitate to point them out and Rose started to steer them in their direction. When they reached them the three greeted Harry and Rose easily, the two others with them doing the same. One Harry knew as Terrence Higgs— he may be wrong about the name but he was pretty certain that was it— and the other was unfamiliar.

“This is Marcel Beaufoy.” Marcus introduced the man to them both, the guy nodding his head in their direction. He was thin and tall, his height rivalling Pucey’s who was easily the tallest of the group. His hair was a pale brown similar to Montagues but it was combed and styled neatly whereas Montague’s was made up of lush curls.

Higgs looked the same as ever, his appearance one you wouldn’t be surprised to see surfing or hanging out on a beach in Australia. Harry only had a vague recollection of the man, mainly due to his appearance and his status as Slytherin, both seeming so at ends with one another which was mostly why he remembered his name.

Rose shot Marcus a curious look from her spot on Pucey’s left and he didn’t hesitate to tell her. “I’ve gotten some pointed offers but I’m unsure if I’ll take any of them up on it.”

Hmm, Harry hadn’t realised he had been looking for someone. He supposed it made sense, Marcus had graduated in their third year, should have been their second year, so he was most definitely at an age where he’d be more open to settling down— at least by Pureblood standards. He did the math silently and realised Marcus had to be around twenty five, he vaguely remembered Rose mentioning his birthday last month so that had to be it.

Montague straightened abruptly. “I see some girls coming this way.” He said and immediately made his exit, Beaufoy following behind in amusement.

Harry huffed a small laugh while Rose barely batted an eye.

Sure enough a group of girls approached the group, their eyes scanning each of the boys with critical and eager eyes. The seeming leader of this group— none other than Katrina Meier. The other three were pretty, Harry supposed, the one girl’s features were just a bit too sharp and pointy but that was hardly a huge flaw.

“I’m Katrina Meier,” the girl introduced herself, her German accent hardly detectable. She didn't bother with introducing herself to the twins, not even glancing their way as she shook Marcus, Higgs and Pucey’s hands, clearly lingering with the latter. With an absent wave behind her she introduced her friends but Harry barely heard their names over his own distaste for this girl.

He wasn’t sure what it was— it wasn’t like Greengrass’s warning really held much weight as Harry knew his sister was only doing the courting thing with Pucey to give him time to find someone he actually liked— it was just her voice. It instantly reminded him of Dudley or Malfoy. The tone of someone very used to getting whatever they wanted was clear as day to him.

She was beautiful, and clearly aware of this fact, but Harry wasn’t someone who let good looking packages distract him from what was underneath. Plus her eyes, a brown so deep they almost looked black, seemed empty in a way that made Harry uncomfortable. They had no warmth in them.

It didn’t take long after the group's arrival for Higgs to take his leave, sharing a faint look with Marcus as he went. After a bout of small talk Meier— rather pointedly in Harry’s unbiased opinion— said. “I’ve been looking to settle down recently.”

“Like everyone else at this party,” Marcus cut in with barely concealed sarcasm.

Harry was sure the guy was by far his favourite Slytherin. Not counting his sister of course.

Clenching her jaw, Meier waved away his words with a dark smile and looked more directly at Pucey. “I heard you were available,” she said smoothly while brushing the family crest on Pucey’s robes with one hand.

Listen. Harry knew his sister’s situation with Pucey wasn’t exactly as real as it seemed but to the rest of the people outside of their family and close friends it was exactly that. So the nerve of this girl to comment that Pucey was available, in front of Rose nonetheless, had a scowl forming on his face.

Rose was never as quick to react as Harry was though, only lifting a brow and looking more amused than anything.

Pucey himself didn’t react much at all, he only glanced down at her hand before coldly stating. “I’m in the middle of a courtship.”

The girls behind Meier glanced at Rose and then to one another in a way that told Harry the entire group knew for a fact that Pucey was already courting someone— knew it was Rose. Meier herself looked over at Rose as well, with the same critical eye as earlier, and her eyes flickered to Rose’s scar. She smiled in a way that felt mocking and if Harry were the same kid he was when they stared at Hogwarts he would have already snapped at her. But he wasn't, he spent the last how many months learning from Sirius what was and wasn’t appropriate in public Pureblood settings.

“I’m surprised to see the Potter twins here,” Meier remarked offhandedly, that irritating smile still on her face. “I didn’t think these kinds of crowds would be their favoured place to be.”

Rose only matched her smile. “Your ignorance is forgiven.”

The retort had Harry wanting to bark out a laugh and judging by the way Marcus turned his head away so suddenly he was sure he had the same problem.

Smile now gone from her face, Meier pursed her lips briefly and turned her attention from Rose to glance back at Pucey once more. She let out— in Harry’s yet again unbiased opinion— a haughty laugh as she pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “Courships are hardly set in stone. Write to me when you’re free, I’m sure my family name would open many doors for your family.” Then without waiting for a response she left, the gaggle of girls behind her quick to follow.

“I don’t like her,” Harry said as soon as she was out of ear shot.

His sister laughed at that. “You spent all of ten minutes in her presence.”

“I’m an excellent judge of character.”

“She certainly has a high opinion of herself,” Marcus chimed in as he glanced to where Meier headed off to.

“She’s arrogant,” Pucey corrected with a scowl on his face.

With a twist of the lips, Harry offered. “From what I’ve experienced most Purebloods are.”

Pucey glanced at him. “There’s a difference between being arrogant and being confident.”

“That difference being skill,” Marcus added. “Little Malfoy was a prime example of that.”

Rose only rolled her eyes at the mention of Malfoy. “Did you find anyone you’d consider courting tonight?”

The identical faces the two pulled told Harry the answer was no.

“I’m about ready to bail actually,” Marcus said as he glanced around the room and then at the three of them.

Harry was quick to agree with him much to Rose’s fond amusement and his sister said. “I wouldn’t be too sad to leave now.”

“We should go,” Pucey agreed as he scowled at the surrounding people. “If we leave now we could get a booth at Seventh Heaven.”

Seventh Heaven was a bar in Kuloss Alley. Harry has only been there once before and as far as he could tell it was more of a club than a bar. It was filled with music, people dancing and strobing lights. The place was favoured by Purebloods who had recently come of age and Harry had been meaning to take Ron and the others there for ages. Rose wasn’t the biggest fan of the place but sitting at the booths was very different from the dance floor, the music muffled to a more pleasing manner and the service attentive when needed but discreet as well.

Marcus pointed off in the direction of the Floo and headed towards it without delay, the rest of them quick to follow his lead. 

Harry didn’t miss the leading hand Pucey put on Rose’s back as they began moving through the crowds and, while it was curious, he put it to the back of his mind for the time being, more focused on leaving behind this ‘matchmaking’ party as soon as he possibly could.

It had been around a month and a half since Grindelwald’s attack and since then Sirius had been needed at the Ministry more and more due to increased Wizengamot meetings. Rose was confused on what the Wizengamot could do about the guy but she held back her comments and figured the majority just wanted to feel like they were doing something. Harry was taken with him a few times but it was mostly being stuck waiting outside as Harry wasn’t officially a Lord yet so legally he wasn’t allowed in. 

He usually spent his waiting time with Hermione, curiously observing her tasks.

Rose was expecting to be busy soon too, thankfully. She received a letter recently from the Ministry stating that she had been accepted into the Unspeakable program and that she would start on March first. She made the decision that she would enjoy her free time and the upcoming events then she would buckle down and get serious about her magical research.

The sound of a chime rang out in her room at Grimmauld Place and Rose glanced up at the clock above her desk before she pushed herself up. She had plans to meet Adrian for lunch at O’Malley’s Opal.

When she stepped through the Floo into the Leaky Cauldron she wasn’t surprised to see Adrian already standing there waiting. He greeted her quietly, dropping a faint kiss to her cheek before leading her towards the entrance way of Diagon Alley.

Rose had been surprised the first time Adrian had done that but she found she didn't mind it all that much. There was an absent mindedness in the action that she found rather appealing and she definitely preferred it to the overzealous hugs like the other people in her life would occasionally give her.

Since they decided to do this whole courtship thing Adrian was probably the person Rose spent the majority of her time with. (Not counting Harry and Sirius of course) They met up for either breakfast, lunch or dinner at least four times a week and attended various events together.

Rose had been to his family manor only twice, and that was more than enough for her, but had been to his personal apartment in the same district as Marcus on multiple occasions. Adrian often stopped by Grimmauld Place as well, Sirius always happy to welcome him into their home while Harry treated him about the same as he treated most of Rose’s friends that he didn’t really spend time with; friendly but slightly awkward.

Rose liked spending time with him, that wasn't a surprise. She had been friends with Adrian since she was thirteen and got closer with him after Marcus had graduated. He was comfortable to be around, someone Rose could exist with in silence which she really liked.

Graham was good at filling in the void, keeping conversation going which Rose appreciated from time to time, and Marcus knew how to talk without needing responses, which was also enjoyable at times. But Adrian was probably the only person who Rose could sit in complete silence with (besides her brother at least) and not feel the need to say something or offer some kind of activity to keep him entertained.

This very fact was why Rose hadn’t found it at all difficult to offer doing an actual courtship with him. She knew it wouldn’t be a hardship upon her and it would help him out of an irritation situation. 

Win-win.

It also helped that Adrian didn’t seem inclined to start with the more gift related aspect of the courtship— more importantly, flowers and superfluous nothings that she’d hear Pureblood women boast about receiving at parties. Honestly Rose would probably be more tempted to stop all of this if he had, the whole thing leaving her more bewildered than anything and the thought of feigning interest or enjoyment at receiving them sounded like an exhausting endeavour.

Now if the gifts were books or something else useful to her then that made sense, but how were flowers of all things supposed to ‘strengthen a couple's bond’?

Once they reached the restaurant they were greeted heartedly by the owner himself at the door and he led them to a secluded table and told them the specials. Rose shared a glance with Adrian and he said. “We’ll both have the specials and some water.”

After their water was poured Rose eyed Adrian. “How are things with your family?”

She knew his father was still pushing marriage and Rose couldn’t help but worry that he’d grow impatient with trying to get his hands on the Black title— not that that could happen— and start looking elsewhere for options.

“Things are more or less back to how they were before they started pushing the whole marriage thing, which is a relief really,” Adrian told her as he sat more comfortably in his seat. “Though they’re still trying to convince me to take the mark.”

Rose’s face twisted at the mention but didn’t say anything else on the subject.

“Have you heard back from the Unspeakables yet?”

With a pleased tone, Rose told him. “Yes. I start next month.”

She got a smile out of Adrian at her news, an uncharacteristic expression for the normally stoic boy. Rose couldn't help but note that it was a nice sight outside of his normal smirks and glares.

“Do you have a particular field of study in mind?”

She only shook her head silently as their waiter came by with their food, laying it out in front of them. When he was gone Rose said. “I think I’ll check out a bit of everything first before landing on a few that I favour.”

Adrian nodded in understanding as he ate at his food, Rose doing the same, and he wiped at his mouth absently a few minutes later and told her. “You know ever since the news of our courtship came out there have been others who have expressed interest. Ones that my father didn’t arrange that is.”

“I imagine the news would have been taken as a notice that you were open to marriage to those who heard about it. Is there anyone interesting in the bunch?”

She wanted to smile as he made a face. “Not particularly. I only know of them rather than actually know them.”

Rose bobbed her head slowly as she ate. Adrian was notoriously picky about who he actually spent time with from what she learnt over the years. That wasn’t to say that he’s never actually gotten involved with girls, she’s heard enough tales from Graham about every entanglement Slytherin students’ have had and Adrian was no exception. 

The only thing was that they were all brief and casual affairs, whether or not the girl wanted it to be or not. If he was actually going to marry a girl Rose knew it would take a longer amount of time for him to settle on one, given that he’d be committing to spending the rest of his life around her. This told Rose that whichever girl he inevitably chose would be someone he was already familiar with.

She’d put her Galleons on it being one of his past ‘relationships’.

“Are your brother and godfather up to anything new these days?” Adrian asked her quietly.

Rose scrunched up her nose. “More of the same, really. Harry’s still throwing himself into becoming a Lord while Ginny’s tied up with her Quidditch stuff and Sirius is Sirius.” Adrian lifted an amused brow at the latter comment. “What about your family? Anything new other than getting involved with your married life?” Rose asked, a teasing tone colouring her voice thickly which got her a wry look.

“My brother finally convinced Olivia to find out what they’re having– he’ll be having a son.” Adrian offered.

Last she heard the Pucey men— barring Adrian— were trying very hard to get the girl to find out the sex of the baby. Why they couldn’t wait another month since she would give birth mid March was beyond Rose. Nonetheless she gave a soft hum, despite not being very interested in the news, more out of politeness than anything else.

Adrian’s expression showed he knew what she was doing but wasn’t offended, quite amused actually. “I recently found out that my father had gone directly to the Dark Lord to get his approval for my courtship of you. He mentioned it before we even started this but I didn’t think he actually would.”

That had Rose looking up from her mostly finished meal. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised Adrian’s father went out of his way to ask, as far as most Death Eater’s knew she and her brother were still enemies of the Dark Lord so he likely wanted to cover his hide in case the news angered Tom.

“He must’ve been given the okay then,” she remarked absently.

Adrian tilted his head in confirmation. “My father said he had been told I was welcomed to court you and that the Dark Lord mostly seemed curious about how it would go.”

Again Rose almost smiled at that but dropped the conversation just as quickly as her interest in it spiked. She looked at Adrian’s plate. “I’m assuming you're finished.”

Adrian drained the last of his water and nodded his head, raising a hand for the bill. The waiter brought over a piece of paper that Adrian quickly scrawled his name on before standing and offering Rose a hand.

Most high end places had ‘accounts’ with Purebloods, ones directly linked to Gringotts so they could bill the bank directly.

Because apparently Purebloods didn’t carry around pocket change.

It had amused Rose when she first found out just as much as it made sense to her. Wizards didn't have the coinless opportunities that Muggles did in the form of bank cards, so those who were able to open up a bank account could afford to set up the method of payment and didn't hesitate to enact it wherever they frequented.

Sirius had them in pretty much every store they went to. Or— the Black family did to be more accurate.

As Adrian led Rose to the door with a hand on her back he said. “I’m assuming you’ll want to check out Flourish and Blotts.”

“Yes,” Rose said at once. “I also want to check out the Knockturn Alley bookstore too.”

The trip to Flourish and Blotts didn’t take long, mainly due to the fact that those working there often pointed out the newer books to Rose whenever she arrived which saved her a lot of time browsing shelves when she didn’t have anything particular in mind in the way of books.

It was when they were making their way to Knockturn Alley that things took a turn in the way of a scream—

Adrian spun around in time with Rose and he was quick to step partially in front of her even as he eyes scanned the crown. She spotted the reason for the scream the same time he did. Death Eaters, with their distinguishable masks, were standing in a more open area. One pointed their wand at the nearest store sign— Madam Malkins— and let out a spell that had it blasting apart.

What happened next was pure chaos— mainly due to the crowds. 

People began to run, bumping into one another in their haste, and Adrian led Rose to a nearby alcove while Rose held onto his arm as she scanned all around them. The Death Eaters weren’t aiming at the people she noticed first off, more focused on causing some damage to the buildings around them, and when the cracks of Aurors started sounding one raised their wand high.

Rose knew what they were doing before they even did it.

With a loud bang the Dark Mark appeared in the sky above Diagon Alley, dark and clear as day against the pale clouds, like spilled ink on parchment. The masked terrorists quickly disappeared as numerous people paused to stare in horror at Voldemort’s mark.

“It looks like the Dark Lord is ready to come out of the shadows now,” Adrian said quietly, blue eyes trained on the sky.

Chapter Text

Percy Weasley was nervous.

It was now almost two months into the new year and he was currently standing a few feet away from the Burrow ward line, looking at his family home. The place looked the same as ever and it was a comforting thought to him; that his family’s life hadn’t changed too drastically since he cut ties with them.

It had been just under two weeks since You-Know-Who made an attack on Diagon Alley and Britain was at a loss. This time actually confirmed-You-Know-Who according to dozens of eye witnesses who had seen a man with red eyes and snake-like features wielding a wand the Ministry of Magic had long since known to be the Dark Lords. Now the third incident in under a decade in regards to You-Know-Who— the Quidditch Cup attack, the murky details surrounding the final task at the Triwizard Tournament and now this— it had the even most skeptically fearful admitting His return.

Two of the most powerful wizards in a century were both at large and their odds of winning, now that Dumbledore was long gone, had things feeling bleak.

Percy hadn’t been focused on that though.

No, Percy could only think about his family. He could only think about how he had been so sure that You-Know-Who couldn’t have returned during the end of the Triwizard Tournament, believing the Minister of Magic’s words so readily, and it had been a direct contradiction to his family who full-heartedly believed in the madman's return as soon as it happened.

So Percy had cut ties. After the heartbreaking blow delivered to him by his father who told him the promotion he worked so hard to get was only a means to spy on their family. On Dumbledore. He had convinced himself that they were holding him back, that they were swayed by Dumbledore’s opinion unquestioningly.

Only it was Percy who had been swayed.

It wasn’t like he hadn't talked to anyone in the family, he spoke with Bill and Ron. Just not much anyone else.

It hadn’t taken long before he remembered the contract he signed with Rose Potter not even a year after he cut ties and just the other day brought it up to Bill who told him exactly what it was— a promise and guarantee of protection from You-Know-Who. To say Percy was relieved he wouldn’t have to fight and that his family was out of harm's way would be an understatement.

Movement out of his peripheral had Percy glancing up and he spotted someone walking towards him.

Bill.

His oldest brother smiled encouragingly at him. “You ready?”

Swallowing tightly, Percy asked. “Who’s all here?”

“The whole family,” Bill told him bluntly and he appreciated that lack of sugar coating. “Fleur is laying down upstairs so it’ll be just the main family for this next part.”

With a tight nod, Percy waved a hand for Bill to let him through the wards and the two walked silently to their childhood home. No one knew he was coming. Percy, in a fit of nerves, unsure if he would go through with it, only told Bill about his plans to reconnect.

When they got to the front door Percy had no time to second guess his choice as Bill went in first and immediately the usual loudness of the Burrow was reaching Percy’s ears. He curled his fingers into his clammy palms at the sight of them and hoped to try to stop the slight shake that had slowly but surely built up in his hands. All the while he tried to steel his emotions— a vain endeavour, really.

“Fred! George! Stop throwing the meat at each other and roll them! Ron, you need to keep stirring that!”

His mother shouting orders wasn’t something Percy ever thought he’d miss but hearing it now had him feeling like a child again, his heart stuttering in his chest and an ache of longing surging within him. 

The fact that all of her children were now full grown adults did little to slow the mother of seven from ordering them about.

Bill said the main family was having a meal today, Fleur now included as she was married to Bill and was carrying the first of the next generation of Weasleys. Apparently with everyone moving out they had made it a standing tradition to gather at least once a month for a family meal— this just so happened to be the day that they all chose.

Something Bill had likely known and offered this day on purpose, considering Percy’s intentions. Everyone all in one place.

When they walked in everyone was so focused on their tasks that they didn’t even glance up when Bill opened the door. 

Percy saw his father sitting at the table peeling some potatoes by hand— it’s a relaxing task, he always told Percy— Charlie at his side, having made the trip home in the wake of the back-to-back attacks.

Fred and George were rolling up meatballs into a roasting pan and Percy could see a few specs of meat on the table, likely from them tossing the things around if his mother’s words were anything to go by.

Ginny was next to their mum, her hair hastily held up with her wand as the two women moved about and Ron wasn’t far from them, stirring something that— if the frown on his face was anything to go by— wasn’t going the way it should.

“I have a surprise for you,” Bill said to the room at large.

The twins began speaking before either even looked their way. 

“Is your surprise that you’re actually gonna help—” 

“—instead of hiding out in—” 

The teasing grins on their faces dropped as they spotted Percy just behind Bill’s shoulder.

Their mother let out a gasp, almost dropping the bowl in her hand on the floor but Ginny was quick to save it at the last second. Charlie only looked from him to their dad and Percy swallowed as his father stood.

“Percy,” his father said evenly, hand gripping the back of his chair tightly.

Even though knew his voice would be wobbly, Percy said. “Dad…” He looked around at his family, the family he all but turned his back on because of his own stubborn pride.

No one said anything, most of the room practically holding its breath, then their dad moved, dragging Percy into a tight hug. The relief practically suffocated Percy as he quickly hugged him back, a choked feeling in his throat as he breathed in the familiar smell of his father's clothes. 

After that it didn’t take long for everyone to join in, the twins not hesitating to cry, “Weasley family huddle!” 

When they all pulled back, a few tears swiped away and grins on their faces, his mother didn't hesitate to get everybody back to work much to Percy’s fond amusement.

“What can I do?” He asked as everyone went back to their previous spots.

His mother waved for him to sit down as she said. “Just sit down, dear. Tell us about what you’ve been up to.”

“We see who the favourite is,” the twins remarked teasingly, getting a swat on the back of their heads by Ginny.

Percy sat down by Ron who gave him an encouraging nod, a proud smile on his face that had Percy breathing a bit easier. He glanced over at his mother and started off with work. “I’m working in the Department of Magical Education now.”

“What kind of work do you do?” Ginny asked as she started laying things out on the counter.

“Right now I’m part of a team of people working on creating a school syllabi for pre-Hogwarts years.” With a curious expression Bill repeated the last bit back at him and Percy nodded his head confidently. “Unlike Hogwarts it would teach stuff like Wizarding Currency, Magical Holidays, Customs when interacting with certain people— like when going to Gringotts or how older Pureblood families are used to interacting with one another.”

The family absorbed that in silence before Ron remarked. “Hermione would have loved that.”

From everything he remembered about the girl Percy didn’t doubt that.

Percy smiled at him. “It’s aimed more at Muggleborns and Muggle-raised as most magical borns know a lot of this stuff but we’re also hoping it would make kids less nervous when heading off to Hogwarts at eleven.”

His mother had a concerned frown on her face as she stirred something in a bowl. “Wouldn’t it be more nerve racking for them to go off at an even younger age?”

“It wouldn’t be like Hogwarts where kids live there,” Percy assured his mother, pushing his glasses up his nose absently. “They’d still live at home but just go to the school during a certain set of hours.”

“They’d have to set it up in a more populated area that’s easily accessible,” Charlie commented, sounding intrigued about the whole thing.

With another nod, Percy said. “That’s the hope. The plans are still being made and details are lining up but I truly think it would make things so much better.”

George glanced over at him with an understanding look on his face. “If Muggleborns learn those things it would take the wind out of the sails of all the complaints some more prejudiced Purebloods have.”

Ron was quick to agree. “Hermione has mentioned more than once over the years how she wished there had been something that would have helped Muggleborns adjust more. She thought there would have been a course at Hogwarts but—” he shrugged off the sentence as they all knew how it would have ended.

“Why isn’t there?” Ginny asked then with a perplexed look on her face.

Their father was the one to answer that. “A lot of what is taught is dependent on the Headmaster. Plus classes were dropped in the wake of Grindelwald’s defeat due to a lot of people dying; they just didn’t have the people to teach.”

“They’ve got a hard enough time filling a really needed course like DADA,” Fred chimed in.

Percy was bobbing his head eagerly as they saw everything he himself had seen since really looking into all of this. “At least this way it’s the Ministry funding it, as well as numerous families who also want to help, so it won’t be as restricted.”

His father looked over at him curiously, wiping his hands off on a towel as he finished the last of the potatoes. “Who brought up the project?”

“A man named Thomas Carrington. He’s taught at Hogwarts already.”

“Hermione’s obsessed with the man,” Ron added before he tilted his head. “I have to admit though he was by far the best Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor we had.”

Percy had heard a lot of praise on him since he made his way into the Ministry of Magic a few years ago and knew that at the last Wizengamot meeting a motion had been passed to open a division in the Magical Law Enforcement Department entitled Magical Children’s Care and Well-being at the start of the next month, something that came forth due to another proposition Carrington brought forward.

He was getting a reputation in the Ministry as a man ‘for the future’. Plenty of people were certain he was the man to trust with their country's future and that he’d make Minister of Magic one day with his ambition and ideas.

“What else is new, dear?” His mother asked.

Percy hesitated before he said. “I recently got engaged.”

Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him and it was Fred who asked. “To who?”

Their shock wasn’t too surprising, Percy wasn’t exactly someone who dated frequently, more concerned with plans for his career than anything else. He dated Penelope Clearwater for about three years but they hadn’t been serious-serious. 

“Her name is Audrey Abbot. We were assistants together when I started at the Ministry and we kind of stuck together. Taught each other the ropes.”

“When did you get engaged?” His mother asked, hands on her hips and a bright smile on her face.

“Really recently,” Percy said while he glanced nervously around the room. “At the end of January, on our fourth anniversary.”

“Four years…” Charlie repeated, stunned at the length of time; a clear testament to just how long Percy had been out of their family’s lives considering he hadn’t been seeing anyone when ties were cut.

With a nod, Percy revealed. “We had been good friends beforehand while working together and after everything…” he trailed off and the family could fill the gap. “She was there for me a lot and now here we are.”

Audrey was incredible. She had been in his year at Hogwarts but their paths hadn’t crossed much at all. After his estrangement with his family Audrey had been a welcoming shoulder to cry on and the two of them developed a strong bond that hadn’t faded even after all these years. Percy was grateful for her, she was the only good thing that came from him pretty much abandoning his family.

He glanced around at them all. “I’ve been wanting to come talk to you all for a while now but I didn't know how to— didn’t know how to make things right.” He let out a huff and said. “After she said yes Audrey told me my engagement gift to her could be stuffing my pride aside and making things right with my family.”

Fred and George grinned as one. “We like her already!”

The joke got a laugh out of Percy and as the conversation continued on, the family filling him in on some of the things he missed, the small pinching feeling that had lived in his chest for the last four and a half years finally let go, leaving only a warm glow behind.

With March rolling in— and his sister finding herself more occupied now that her new job had officially started— Harry had his mind focused once more on previous interests. The main one—

The Deathly Hallows.

He had read the Tale of the Three Brothers probably a hundred times now and he felt with every fiber of his being that it was real.

Rose wasn’t as convinced.

So one afternoon he had determinedly climbed down the stairs of Grimmauld Place with his destination in mind being the kitchen. It was a rare day where he and Sirius didn’t have to be at the Ministry and Rose didn’t plan to go do whatever she did there. So the other two house occupants were already eating when Harry was making his way down, which meant they would have to stay and listen to every word he said. 

Not that they avoided him or ignored him, it was just that if they were eating they couldn’t counter his arguments right away.

‘They’ meaning his sister.

He hopped off the last staircase and when he got to the kitchen Sirius and Rose were— as he knew they would be— eating a sandwich and chips each. Rose looked over at Harry and spotted the book in his hand instantly, letting out a heavy sigh through her nose.

“What are you up to, Harry?” Sirius asked as he glanced over at him, taking in his determined expression curiously.

Harry marched up to the table and took a seat. “I want you to listen to my theory— one Ro’ won’t believe.” His sister made a protesting noise but given her mouth was full she couldn't actually talk. 

So far his plan was going great.

He raised the book in his hands and asked Sirius. “Do you remember the Tale of the Three brothers?”

“Of course,” Sirius said. “I read the book to you both enough when you were babies.” 

The comment had both twins smiling but Harry wasn’t to be deterred. “Do you think the story is true?”

Sirius tilted his head and wiped his hands together absently. “You think that three brothers actually met Death one day and Death gave each of them something?” He reaffirmed slowly.

“Yes.” Harry said in a serious voice. “Not just that.” He went on steadily, opening the book to the page with the Hallow symbol and holding it out in front of Sirius again. “I think Grindelwald believes it too.”

“Grindelwald's mark,” Sirius recognized, eyeing the symbol carefully. 

“Except—” Harry countered excitedly. “It’s not Grindelwald’s mark. It’s the mark of the Deathly Hallows.” He began to trace each mark and relayed them all to Sirius. “The Cloak, the Stone and the Wand.” He looked up at his godfather, ensuring that he was paying proper attention.

Harry full heartedly believed this. Sure it was a bit of a loose theory at first, a peculiar interest really, but the longer time went on the more he was convinced there was some truth in the tale. 

Sirius was nodding his head and he looked curiously intrigued. “Okay… where are they now?”

“I think Grindelwald broke into Dumbledore’s tomb to steal the Elder Wand from him because Dumbledore had it. Not just that—” he pointed over at Rose and brought up a new theory of his “— I think he was stealing it back.”

“Meaning Grindelwald had it first.”

Harry nodded hurriedly. “I’m certain Grindelwald had it first and during their duel Dumbledore became its Master.”

“I thought one had to kill the previous Master to become the new one,” Sirius mentioned, thinking back to the story he read.

Now Harry shook his head. “No, they just have to best them.”

Rose took that moment to chime in. “Meaning the Wand doesn’t have any powerful guarantee if the Master has no skill.”

“... that is true,” Harry admitted reluctantly.

With a smile, Sirius asked. “Why are you so fixated on this?” And Rose looked at him with an expectant expression as well.

Harry huffed. “I don’t know. I just thought it would be cool if it was real.”

“Where are the Stone and Cloak then?” Rose asked next, pushing her now finished plate away from herself. Harry didn’t have an answer to that, other than he didn’t know. His sister clearly read that on his face as she told him. “I’ll believe it more if there was anything else to go on other than the Wand. Dumbledore and Grindelwald had a history, their duel is still talked about to this day, there is a good chance that even if Grindelwald was the one who robbed Dumbledore’s grave it could have just been to slight him or prove to himself that he was the ‘better man’.” With a considering look she absently added. “Maybe the wand Dumbledore had was in fact Grindelwald's wand.”

Sirius stood up then, grabbing his empty plate and reaching for Rose’s. “It could have been. I never heard anything on what happened to the man’s wand after his defeat and I imagine that’s not something people would have been able to keep quiet about.”

Frowning, Harry muttered. “I don’t think that’s right.”

Sirius, now putting the plates in the sink, cheerfully told him. “Well then it seems you have a Cloak and Stone to track down then.” He came back to ruffle Harry’s hair playfully before he left the room, calling over his shoulder that he was going to Remus’ Cottage to help set up the nursery as he went.

Harry looked over at his sister who was watching him patiently. Flattening his hair back to its normal appearance, Harry sighed and leaned closer to her. “If I’m right you realise that this would mean you are the Master of the Elder Wand.”

It was something that had been on his mind since he first really considered the fact that the story may be real. It was a heavy knowledge that left him incapable of leaving this subject alone.

Rose frowned at his words. 

“You disarmed Dumbledore that night, didn’t you?”

“I did,” she admitted.

Harry pushed a hand through his hair and flattened it back over his forehead. “It might not even matter whether I’m right or not— all that matters is whether or not Grindelwald believes it as much as I do. If the legend is true that would mean the Elder Wand isn’t working for him as well as it once did and depending on how long he had it he might notice. Which would mean he’ll start looking into finding out who last bested Dumbledore.”

Which would lead him to Harry’s sister…

Rose let out a huff, sitting forward as she told Harry reassuringly. “The only people who know we were with Dumbledore the night he died are the two of us, the Dark Lord and Snape.”

“What if Snape or Voldemort told someone else?”

She eyed his worried face in silence before flicking his nose affectionately. “We’ll cross that bridge if it comes to us.”

Despite recent events— that being the Dark Lord’s move into the public eye— Rose had focused on buckling down on life as an Unspeakable. She was just over a week into her new job and it was honestly exactly what she was missing from her life. 

Her hours were of her own making, the only thing was that she was expected to log a minimum of thirty hours a week. So, if Rose was inclined, she could go to work at three in the morning or three in the afternoon. She was mildly surprised at the lax way of working hours but she was told by another Unspeakable that it was a security thing. If they worked a typical nine to five hours then the place would be completely empty at certain times plus it would be easier for outsiders to track who were Unspeakbles.

Only a handful of Unspeakables were allowed to be known, most of whom were the higher ups involved in hiring and such.

Rose questioned about the place being completely empty late at night anyways and the person relented to that but said it was a far rarer occurrence though, rather than the place always being empty during that time.

The Unspeakable who told her about this was the same one who showed her around the place. She was a rather willowy looking woman with two short braids in her hair and smile lines clear on her face. She introduced herself as Unspeakable Dawson. As well as explaining how exactly Rose logged her hours, a simple machine that was watched over by the same five people on rotation all the time, Dawson also showed Rose all the different departments in the Department of Mysteries.

Rose already loved her job.

There were eight different fields to choose from: Love, Time, Thought, Space, Death, Life, Destiny, and Creatures. As Rose had said to Adrian before, she wasn’t sticking to one spot too long, in fact she spent the first eight days thoroughly looking through each area.

They studied Love in the ‘Love Chamber’. (a name that made Rose roll her eyes at the sound of it) It was behind a door that was kept locked at all times that only a spare few had the access to open— three to be exact. 

Those three people remained in charge of opening the door for the Unspeakables who worked inside. The work in the Love Chamber did have a set designated time to work as the door needed to be unlocked in order to leave the Chamber as well as enter. So if one worked there they did so in periods of four hours, the door was opened six times in a twenty-four hour period.

The Love Chamber had a large fountain that was always flowing with Amortentia— the strongest love potion that existed— leaving the room smelling like the things those who worked inside loved the most.

Rose didn’t like to think too much on what it smelt like, figuring that was something better left alone for the time being. 

In the chamber there were a series of doors off around the room that worked as offices for the Primary Unspeakables in each wing. Managers and Supervisors who’ve been given those titles due to their hard work and supreme capabilities.

The study of Time happened in the Time Room; one that Rose had been partially inside already in fact. It wasn’t as guarded as the Love Chamber but it still had some security. 

It was a long rectangular room filled with dancing lights that sparkled like gems. It had all sorts of time-related devices inside; clocks of every description, Time Turners, and the large crystal jar that she and Harry had seen when they came to listen to the Prophecy back when they were fifteen.

The Time Room obviously studied the past and future, the latter of which meant that it was directly attached to the Hall of Prophecies. 

The study of Thought took place in the Brain Room, by far one of the strangest rooms Rose had ever seen in her life. It was one lone room lit by low-hanging lamps and had a large tank of brains that swam in a green solution.

Space was studied in the oh so cleverly named Space Auditorium. Despite its lack of ingenuity with the name, Rose actually liked that room quite a lot. It was a dark room filled with planets floating mid-air.

Visitors and Unspeakables may find themselves floating as well, though Unspeakables have spells to keep their feet lured toward the ground. Due to the darkness of the room those who worked there often kept a glowing ball at their side in order to see their research.

Life and Death were studied in the Life and Death Chambers.

The former chamber was a large circular room with the ceiling affixed to mimic the weather outside and a large umbrella-like structure at the centre where most Unspeakbles worked when it rained. The room was filled with numerous plants and living things such as insects and obscure types of animals.

The latter chamber was a large square room that somewhat resembled the Courtrooms of the Wizengamot a mere floor below the Chamber. It was dimly lit with stone tiers leading down to a pit in the centre and there, upon a dias, was a very old stone archway with a tattered black curtain hanging from it.

Rose was told the archway separated the world of the living and dead and it was said one could hear voices coming through the Veil. 

She listened— you could.

Destiny was studied in the Fate Room, as one would expect. It was a large oddly shaped room that was lit by high torches that glowed a soft blue. At the center of the room was an irregular shaped pool of water that was almost black in colour. The pool was said to be ‘fate’s mirror’ and it was heavily believed that if a Seer were to look at its surface they’d see the future as clear as any picture. 

Also in the room was a large archway that led directly to the Hall of Prophecies.

Finally there was the Creature Wing, which Rose was certain had to be some kind of pun with the name, where they studied magical Creatures. It was a large dome like room with the ceiling projecting the night sky and the moon phases, and the rest of the room was lit by pale white orbs that floated throughout the room.

All in all, Rose had been eager to keep working. After thoroughly visiting each section she decided she wanted to work in the Life Chamber, mainly because they studied Squibs and Muggleborns as well as the rate of magical children being born, a subject Rose was currently intrigued with.

Another interesting thing she learnt recently— one not technically related to the Department of Mysteries but also was— Rose was the first Black to become an Unspeakable. At least from the main line according to Sirius; Merlin knew with all the inbreeding wizards did there most certainly had to be some Black blood amongst the employees there.

Though she wasn’t the first Potter, apparently research and inventiveness ran strong in that side of the family.

In other news since starting her job she and Adrian had met for their lunch periods everyday and she had been more than happy to tell him everything she had done already. He listened on with the same attentiveness he always did during their school years; after he stopped hating the very sight of her that is. Marcus joined them once in a while, and Graham too when he was free, and they had been very curious on which division Rose would choose to study more in.

Harry thought she should study Death or— The Deathly Hallows, an obsession she knew he wouldn’t be giving up on anytime soon.

Despite the rumours there was no Unbreakable Vow to be sworn once hired, all that was asked was that employees remained discrete and didn’t go publicizing anyone else’s work or Ministry secrets, which Rose wouldn’t do. She thought it was incredibly foolish to simply trust the word of their employees— did they learn nothing from the last war?— but it was their choice, she supposed.

Rose, in contrast, was well known for being very paranoid when it came to handing out information, especially something that could cause trouble if the wrong person learnt about it.

That very fact brought her to where she was now.

She and Harry were sitting in the back corner booth of the Golden Goblet. It was a restaurant in Diagon Alley that was very much like a Muggle diner with golden accents in the main decor and gold cutlery and dishes. They were waiting for Ron and Hermione. Since they got back this had been a favourite spot for their group to meet at and, if the place wasn’t packed, the owner of the shop always made sure their booth was saved for them.

Ding!

Harry suddenly started waving his arm about and Rose glanced up to see the very two people they were expecting stepping inside. Hermione was dressed up in the same finer quality robes she wore to work, the girl having just finished for the day, and Ron was dressed in rather fancy robes too which had Rose mildly surprised.

Not to say he dressed terribly it was just Ron favoured comfort over style more often than not.

“Harry! Ro’! How are you?” Hermione happily asked as the two sat down across from them. In between them on the table were four drinks, two of which were already partially drunk by the twins, having ordered them when they first sat down.

Harry smiled and glanced at Ron. “We’re good. Why are you so dressed up?”

The way Harry asked made it sound like Ron was wearing gold wedding robes but when you knew someone as long as they had even the slightest of changes seemed rather obvious.

Ron only huff and smoothed out his robes. “I had a job interview.”

“I thought you were working for Fred and George?”

Harry got a shrug at his question. “I am but I don’t wanna work there forever.”

“Where was your interview?” Rose asked next, her curiosity piqued.

Ron hadn’t mentioned any particular interests in terms of career options lately. Other than working at Fred and George’s shop Ron had seemed content to just go with the flow for the time being.

Already Rose was going over anything Ron would consider doing for the rest of his life and it was honestly a wide array of options. Ron was a chess player at heart, always keeping options open and considering them from a distance before ever actually reaching the point he’d need to do it.

It seemed now was that point though.

“It’s a position in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Ron replied.

“... in the Auror program,” Harry said hesitantly, mildly surprised at his answer.

Ron laughed. “No,” he assured them both. “It’ll be in the new division called the Department of Magical Children’s Care and Well-being. Right now it’s just an assistant job so I’ll be doing a lot of filing, delivering and things like that.”

“Like Hermione’s job,” Rose said.

He nodded at her in confirmation.

“Why did you want to meet up for today?” Hermione asked as she pulled one of the drinks closer to herself, getting right to the point for a change.

“We can’t just want to hang out?” Harry retorted much to Rose’s amusement.

Ron grinned openly. “Firstly, you can but Ro’ was the one to ask to meet which almost never happens, and secondly, you guys got some privacy wards already set up.”

Harry had a half-hearted mullish expression on his face at Ron’s good points but he still said. “We always do the second one— you never know.”

Despite the back and forth Hermione remained undeterred, looking between them both expectantly. Taking this as her cue, Rose dug through the bag on the booth beside her and summoned a quill as well. 

Ron eyed the quill as she searched through her bag and quietly remarked. “It’s been a long time since you made us sign a contract first before you tell us something.”

Which was true, the last one being the deal she made with Voldemort so long ago. Hermione’s brows were already furrowed with worry as Rose pulled out the contract and she and Ron quickly read the thing once the scroll was rolled out onto the table.

Ron let out a low whistle. “This one is a lot more airtight than the last one.”

Nodding her head slowly, Rose said. “We’re only telling the two of you this time around, not your whole family– though if a third party explicitly tells you the same information then the contract is essentially null and void. You’d be free to talk about it with whoever you’d like.”

“But we can’t even react outwardly to this information if no one does.”

Again Rose nodded. “It’s a safe-keeping. I know once you know that your behaviour will change and that would draw attention. The contract ensures that you can’t react any differently than you would have before knowing the truth.”

While speaking Ron had already grabbed the quill from Rose’s hand, already having jumped so far down the rabbit hole in terms of the twins’ lives that he was not overly concerned. Hermione in turn hesitated when he handed the quill off to her but Rose knew her desire to have answers would far outweigh any reluctance she may have about signing. Once the contract was signed, rolled up and safely out of sight, the two looked at the twins, one with patience the other mildly impatient.

“Thomas Carrington is an alias,” Rose said first off.

Before either could comment Harry finished. “He’s actually Voldemort in disguise.”

Whatever the two might have been expecting the truth was the furthest thing from it. The news was so shocking that Ron didn’t so much as flinch at the Dark Lord’s name— though he had been doing good about not outwardly reacting to that lately.

“Thomas Carrington,” Hermione repeated incredulously and the twins nodded seriously.

“The guy who taught a Defence Club for our last two years of school? Taught Defence Against the Dark Arts our last year?” Ron reaffirmed in disbelief.

“Yes.”

…

“That can’t be true,” Hermione said at once.

Harry leaned closer to the table and assured her. “It is.”

Glancing between the twins, Ron asked slowly. “How long have you known?”

The twins shared a brief glance. This was something they felt a bit worried about revealing, unsure how their friends would react if they knew just how long they had been keeping quiet about this.

With a frown on his face Harry said. “Since the first day he was in class.”

“The first day,” Hermione repeated again.

“We always know when the Dark Lord is near,” Rose informed them evenly, absently touching the scar on her neck, something neither friend missed.

Hermione looked between them both and demanded. “Why did you never say anything?”

Her reaction was rather well founded. Hermione had made her admiration for Carrington no secret, having idolised him when he taught at Hogwarts.

Harry shrugged. “It wasn’t really our concern— we’re staying out of it.”

“Why say anything now?” Ron asked curiously.

“Voldemort is making actual moves and we wanted to make sure you knew both sides of him so you didn't unintentionally make a move against him,” Harry replied straightforwardly, getting straight to the crux of the issue.

It could be a reason to tell all the people on their list but Sirius already knew and the rest of the Weasleys weren’t involved in the Ministry of Magic barring Mr. Weasley and Percy, both of whom Rose couldn’t see actively getting involved in any conflicts in the Ministry of Magic given their current positions. Hermione could though, the girl was always championing for some cause, and where Hermione went Ron usually went so it seemed wise to tell him too. Plus they couldn't just tell her and not him, that just didn't feel right. Since Ron was possibly going to be working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement now, Rose felt justified in their decision in telling the two about Tom.

Not that Rose thought Tom would take it as a direct threat— he made sure his identity was almost impossible for anyone to figure out so he most certainly had to have a bit of leeway if anyone on her list did something against his alias.

Sitting back in her seat, Hermione stared at the both of them with a look neither could quite place. “Thomas Carrington is the main person behind the idea for introducing Muggleborns to the magical world far sooner.”

“... yeah.”

Harry and Rose were well aware of this, Sirius having kept the twins in the loop on the going on’s of Voldemort’s alter ego ever since they told him who he was back before their seventh year.

“Merlin, I can’t believe this,” Ron said suddenly as he pressed a hand to his forehead. “Isn’t he supposed to be mad?”

Which was true. The last anyone was aware Voldemort was an inhuman snake-like wizard who only cared about slaughtering a good percentage of the human race and ruling over the remaining magical community.

“... if he was mad I imagine he wouldn't have managed to stay hidden this long.”

Ron tilted his head in concession to Harry’s comment but still couldn’t get rid of the shock on his face. After a beat he said, “I heard Carrington was also pushing for some Magical Care-home to house children with no family or who were being mistreated by their family. Apparently the idea is what led to the newest division in the Ministry being opened up.”

All the while Hermione’s face grew more and more disbelieving at everything she heard. Before she could say anything else on the subject the little bell above the shop’s door chimed and the twins, with their backs to the wall opposite of it, instinctively looked up.

“Speak of the devil,” Rose murmured quietly.

The words had their two friends looking over their shoulders to where Tom just walked in. He was greeted happily by the staff, having gained a rather positive image over the time he spent working in the Ministry of Magic.

“He’s the Undersecretary for the Minister of Magic,” Hermione said slowly.

Rose absently commented. “I imagine Lucius Malfoy got him that position.”

Tom glanced over at their table and Hermione’s hand instinctively came up with the same wave she always offered him when she happened to run into him somewhere. The disguised Dark Lord strutted over to their table and offered them all a pleasant greeting. Ron’s greeting was no different than the ones he offered while they were in school, having not had much interaction with him since then.

Hermione stood, offering Tom an apologetic look. “I hate to run but I have some work I want to finish at home before tomorrow.” 

Rose could practically see the desire to react differently swimming in her eyes but thankfully the contract kept her relatively levelheaded. She likely did in fact have work at home that she wanted to finish, which was probably why she jumped straight to the point upon first meeting the twins.

“Are you still coming by later?” Ron asked Harry and her brother quickly jumped at the chance to leave.

“I’ll come now.”

As the trio of Gryffindor’s awkwardly made their exit, Rose couldn’t help but smile in amusement. Tom lifted a brow at her and she silently gestured to the now empty seat across from her.

“Gryffindors truly are lacking in grace, aren’t they?”

Rose waved a hand as he sat down and said offhandedly. “Me and Harry just told them who you were.”

Now both of Tom’s brows raised and he glanced back at the door. “I would have thought they’d have a bigger reaction.”

“I made them sign a contract first so they can’t really react any differently than they would have before they were told.”

Tom smirked at the words, looking back to her as he asked. “Do you often make a habit of getting your friends to sign confidentiality contracts?”

Rose shrugged. “If it's a big enough secret, yes.”

He looked more amused than anything but dropped the subject for a newer one. “How is life as an Unspeakable?”

“How do you know I got accepted?”

“I know everything.”

Laughing faintly at that, Rose said. “I’m liking it so far. I haven’t done any full-on projects yet as I want to see my options first.”

Tom hummed in agreement. “There are plenty of interesting sections in the Department of Mysteries.”

She wasn’t really surprised he knew them all. Rookwood was one of the more famously known Unspeakables that gave over secrets to the Dark Lord in the First War but she sincerely doubted he was the only one. 

“Have you ever heard of the Deathly Hallows?” 

Tom frowned at the name, eyes going far off as he weighed the title in his mind. “It doesn’t sound familiar.”

Rose wasn’t surprised to hear that either considering the source. “It’s from a magical children’s book and the symbol for it is being used by Gellert Grindelwald.”

Silence met her proclamation and after a beat Tom asked. “What is the story about?”

“It’s about three brothers who meet Death. They best him after crossing a dangerous river using magic, and Death decides to ‘gift’—” Rose raised her fingers to make air quotes around the word “—them each something of their own choosing. One an unbeatable Wand, one a Stone that could recall the dead, the third an Invisibility Cloak that would let him hide from Death. It was a trick though, considering the gifts led to their deaths being far sooner than if they hadn’t gotten them— with the exception of the youngest brother, of course.”

Tom listened on in silence as she spoke, his fingers tapping absently along the table top, and when she was finished he asked. “Why the sudden interest?”

She gave a soft huff. “Harry is convinced it’s real and that Grindelwald has the wand from the story. He thinks the man had it during his first reign and lost it to Dumbledore but—”

“Dumbledore’s grave has been robbed recently,” Tom finished.

Rose shot him a confirming look. “Harry thinks it was Grindelwald taking back the wand.”

“What about the wand loyalty?” Tom asked quietly. “Grindelwald didn’t kill Dumbledore.”

With a frown, Rose said. “Harry thinks you don’t have to kill them, only best them enough that the Wand would switch allegiances and take on a new Master.” She paused. “Harry’s worried Grindelwald will come after me at some point.”

It didn’t take Tom long to piece together the apparent non sequitur. “You disarmed Dumbledore before he died— which means you would be the Wand’s true Master now.”

“Do you think there’s any truth to the whole thing?” Rose asked him outright.

Tilting his head back, Tom eyed her with careful consideration, his charmed blue eyes dark and heavy. “I have little belief in fairytales but I wouldn’t rule it out entirely if Grindelwald is truly fixated on this tale,” he admitted at last.

Rose let out an aggrieved sigh then determinedly pushed the topic to the back of her mind for now.

“Explain your preschool for magical children.”

She wasn’t at all convinced Tom’s current moves were all sunshine and rainbows. Despite being great things for the magical community— a care home for the abused and a preschool that would include Muggleborns— Rose had no doubt Tom was just laying down some stepping stones for future plans of his own.

Invite the Muggleborns in a few years earlier— Keep the Muggleborns out of the Muggle world all together and have Purebloods and Halfbloods adopt them. She never did forget his words from her sixth year, his plans of removing Muggleborns from their families after birth and having them raised in the magical world.

He was playing it slow and smart here, that much was obvious, and he was doing a formidable job at building a trustworthy reputation for himself. It would make his more dubious ideas more ready to be heard in the future which was likely the plan in mind. This man was a Slytherin— right down to the blood at that— and he would be as cunning and underhanded as he was ambitious and determined.

But those were future issues that honestly weren’t Rose’s problem anymore. So she wouldn’t spare the more questionable ideas any more thought.

Rose spent the better part of two hours listening to Tom’s plans on his school system and was actually impressed with how much thought he put into the whole thing. She thought about it long after the two went their separate ways and Rose couldn't help but wonder how different things would have been for her and Harry had it existed back when they were children.

She quickly realised it wouldn’t have mattered even then, the Dursleys would have sooner sold all their belongings than actually take the twins to a magical school every day.

She pushed those thoughts aside too when she got home and determinedly thought that she was not going to dwell on the past, the future was where she would look and if she had any say— which she did— it would be full of great things.

Harry was in the main parlour when she stepped through the Floo and she frowned.

“I thought you were at Ron and Hermione’s?” 

“I was,” her brother answered with a quirk of the lips. “But I wanted to come grab something. I’m heading back now, do you wanna come?”

Rose was already shaking her head. “Adrian, Marcus and Graham are supposed to be coming over soon,” she told him. 

Harry nodded his head easily enough, well aware that lately it’s been difficult for all four of them to get together outside of Pureblood events. They had managed it well enough when they got back from their trip but with Rose and Pucey tied up in their courtship, Graham avoiding his own future one and then throwing their jobs into the mix… well they were getting busy. 

Rose was already at the doorway when Harry called her name and she turned to look at him with raised brows.

“Do you think it’s weird that Voldemort talks to us? Or you?”

“... not necessarily, why?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I kind of thought once we agreed to stay out of his way that he’d do his thing and we’d do ours. Maybe he’d keep an eye out for us because of the whole Horcrux thing but that doesn't mean he needs to talk to us…”

Rose considered the words. “He’s a narcissist,” she finally settled on.

She got a look of incomprehension then Harry huffed fondly. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He got a faint smile of amusement that quickly turned into a serious look. “He has two people who quite literally carry pieces of his soul. He likely sees the two of us as some extension of himself. There’s a good chance that he would see our accomplishments as his own accomplishments. It might be enough to have him keeping a personal eye on the things we do— if only to feed his own ego.” Rose paused and jokingly added. “We do have a knack for doing impossible things.”

Harry laughed quietly but nodded his head mostly to himself. “That does make a bit of sense,” he said softly. “Where did you even get that theory from?”

“A Muggle psychology book I have.”

The laugh Harry gave at that was more genuine this time and he said. “I doubt I’ll ever stop learning new things from you even when we’re both old and grey.”

Rose smirked in turn before turning to head upstairs, the sound of the Floo whooshing marking Harry’s exit behind her. She didn’t bother going up to her room, a quick look at a nearby clock telling her that the others should be arriving any minute now. 

Instead she headed for the living room, a place that was far more comfortable than the room the Floo was in and her favourite spot to sit and talk with her friends— whether it be Adrian, Marcus and Graham or Ron and Hermione.

It was done up in a lot of maroons and browns though the general decor didn’t have a distinct theme with the random items they often left scattered about inside. One of Harry’s brooms was perched up against a bookshelf, a stack of books Rose had brought in here and never got back to was sitting on the mantle of another fireplace, one of Sirius’s leather jackets was strewn across the back of a chair. The empty spots on the shelves around the room were filled with various knick-knacks. The odd prank item from the twins’ shops, a couple things they bought while travelling, the Marauders Map was folded up and stuffed between two books.

Rose’s favourite part of the room though were the pictures. Each of all of their family members and friends— her and Harry, Sirius, their parents, the Weasleys, and so on— hanging up in frames or simply magically stuck to an available space. 

That was what had this room feeling so homey, a feeling only to be rivaled by her and Harry’s bedroom. It was not something she thought she’d get to have growing up— a place where photos of her and her brother were hung proudly for anyone to see.

It didn’t take long before Kreacher was appearing beside her with a muffled crack . “Mistress’s guests have arrived.”

“Thank you, Kreacher,” she murmured to the elf who was quick to vanish once more. Her eyes darted back up as she heard footsteps getting closer and soon enough Adrian was stepping inside, rolling his eyes as Marcus and Graham bickered back and forth behind him. Rose couldn’t resist smiling at the sight, absently aware of various foods and drinks making an appearance on the coffee table between the seating area.

“What’s got you two in such a chipper mood?” Rose asked as Adrian sat down with her on the couch, his arm slinging across the backrest behind her.

Graham claimed the chair nearest to her end of the couch while Marcus sprawled across the loveseat across from him. The latter of them pointed to the former. “I was telling Graham about that Muggle shop we went to the other day.”

“And that has you bickering?” Rose questioned with a raised brow.

Huffing, Graham rolled his eyes and said. “No— he was just being rather obvious about his ploys in regards to marriage and how it should be done.”

Adrian let out a sigh beside her but she paid him no mind as she raised a brow at Marcus. 

“I’m just saying if you wanna marry a guy you should marry a guy.”

“You know why I can’t. It’s about family obligations.”

Marcus opened his mouth, a familiar stubborn look on his face, but Adrian cut him off. “Marcus, we've had this discussion before. Just because your parents were fine with you living your life how you please doesn't mean everyones is.”

Ah.

Rose had long since known it’s been a sore spot— for not just Marcus but Adrian too— that Graham couldn’t marry someone he could truly fall in love with. His familial obligation as the only heir leaving him with little to no options in the eyes of his parents and himself. Marcus pushed every once in a while, and Rose understood why he felt the need to. He pushed because he couldn’t truly understand the expectations Graham’s parents were foisting upon him, just like Rose truly couldn’t understand either— for very different reasons.

Marcus grew up with parents who wanted the best for him, who— in the case of his father— fought to be different from their own parents and left the majority of Marcus' future up to him.

Rose in contrast never had parents for the larger portion of her life, so she was free of expectations that often came with parental guidance.

Adrian understood though, which was why this was usually a topic only he and Graham would ever discuss together— though he would vent to her on occasion, his own displeasure about his best friend’s situation needing to be let out here and there.

“What are the Muggle’s views on the subject?” Graham asked Rose suddenly, very pointedly veering the subject in a mildly different direction.

Humming softly, Rose murmured. “I can’t speak positively from personal experience— since the Muggles I grew up with were horrible people— but it seems to be a touchy subject at times. Though becoming less so as the years go on, for some at least.”

She half wanted to smile at the way the three mens’ faces twisted when she mentioned her relatives.

“They got more than just the three though, right?” Marcus clarified, having briefly discussed this with Rose in the past. He sat forward to snag one of the sandwiches Kreacher had laid out for them. “I mean you have people who like guys, people who like girls and people who like both– at least that's the gist of it in the magical world.”

His move for food had Adrian and Graham moving as well, both sitting forward to grab some things and pour themselves some drinks, all the while Rose nodded silently to Marcus’s words. “Yes, it’s a lot more diverse and I doubt there will ever be a true stopping point for defining human sexuality. There was once a point where people only saw it as just the one option and now we know that’s just not the case.”

It’s something she had gone into length about with Harry before. The whole thing fascinated her beyond belief and back when she went looking for a truth in her own sexuality she had delved into the rest of it eagerly. Things were far from black and white and the majority of people trying to figure themselves out seemed to take comfort in the idea of a label. Something that defined them and let them know that it wasn’t just them who felt that way. Though there were those who were happy without the label, happy not to be put in a box and just let themselves live in the moment.

Rose could see the appeal in both ways really, though she leaned more towards a label, her need for facts and cold hard truths having her wanting to put a name to herself.

“You identify as one of the other ones, right?” Marcus reaffirmed, then frowned to himself. “Or— how does it apply again?”

“I’m asexual,” Rose stated outright without hesitation. “I don’t particularly care about gender though if it came to dating.”

Graham was watching her with a curious look and she didn’t have to wait long before he asked. “What does that mean exactly?”

“It means I have little to no desire to have sex— with a guy or a girl,” she replied as she watched him pick at the muffin on his plate. 

That first part was the exact definition she read in the book she has and while she wouldn't say it was exactly right it was about as close as she’s seen. Adding on the ‘not with a guy or girl’ part did make it feel a bit closer though. Rose thought the definition was sure to change with time but for now she’d accept it for what it was. She was of the belief that it was more ‘little desire to have sex with another person’ rather than just plain old ‘little to no desire to have sex’ but there were likely to be people out there for whom the latter was exactly true.

Rose wasn’t incapable of having sex— not that she’s ever engaged in such a thing— but rather she chose not to. There was just no situation she found herself in where she’d want to do so, she found physical contact borderline too much half the time. And it wasn’t to say she’d never have sex. As someone obsessed with research and seeing-and-experiencing a wide variety of things she was admittedly very curious about the act. She was curious how different reading about all of it in a book was to actually experiencing it. 

Her desire— if that was even the right word— was more clinical from what she understood, which was just not the case for the vast majority.

“It’s a bit of a spectrum to my understanding. Some don’t feel the desire to engage in sex with people at all while others only want to do so sparingly— notably less so than the average.” She told them with a brief frown now as she considered what she had read in the past. “It’s not something I’d say I’m an expert in by any means, nor have I read up on it in a while, but it appears rather straightforward most of the time.”

“Is that the only other one?” Adrian asked as he glanced over at her.

Rose huffed. “Merlin, no. There’s quite a few more. Muggles have labels for a lot of it and seem to keep coming up with more.” She waved a hand absently as she spoke, her voice going a lot more clinical in her relay of information. “I know there’s a label for those who only feel sexual desire with someone they have a deep connection with. Those who don’t necessarily feel ‘romantic’ desires. There’s a whole assortment of gender identities too but I didn’t have a book that went further into that subject, it was just mentioned briefly in one of the ones I have.” 

“But not all Muggles are okay with this?” Graham questioned.

“No, they aren’t,” Rose said as she looked at him. “Then again, I doubt you’d find any one thing everyone would agree a hundred percent on. Someone’s always going to disagree or hate something.”

Which was just a fact. A story as old as time unfortunately. 

Graham nodded his head silently in agreement as his eyes darted back down to his muffin and she glanced over at Marcus and Adrian, both of whom were watching him as well. 

Marcus took charge of the subject then, thankfully moving it to an entirely new subject. “Where’s your brother?”

“Visiting Ron and Hermione,” Rose answered readily, not wanting to dwell on a subject that could lead to Graham’s mood further souring. “We told them about Carrington earlier today.”

“How’d they take it?”

“Was that wise to do?”

Marcus and Adrian had spoken their queries at the same time and Rose smiled faintly. “They were as shocked as you’d expect but I had them sign a contract first so they can’t talk about it or react any differently about the fact.”

That had the three exchanging smiles, for some reason they were always amused by how readily Rose was to use contracts. It’s not like they could hold it against her, they were Slytherin’s too and if she hadn’t used them they likely would have been suggesting she do so long ago.

Graham finally looked up again. “Why’d you tell them?”

“The Dark Lord is making more moves and while they’re not necessarily moves either one of them would disagree with right now I didn’t want to risk it.”

Marcus looked between them all slowly before he asked something that was likely weighing on all their minds. “Do you think he’s going to start orchestrating more attacks now that everyone knows he’s really back?”

There were some areas that were just prime for an attack. Small magical communities far off enough that any kind of defence response would be delayed, leaving just enough time for the attackers to set up a second wave for the first responders and giving them the opportunity to weaken the opposition.

Tom had received word that Grindelwald had prepared such an attack and he planned on arriving shortly after the Once-Dark-Lord began his assault. His inner circle, as well as a few select others of the outer circle, were well prepared. Barty in particular was bouncing in place as he swung his arms about while Bella twirled her wand with one hand and absently checked for the multiple blades she kept on her in battles with her other.

Not all of his inner circle was present, though it was close with Barty, Bella, Rabastan, Rodolphus, Dolohov, Travers, Macnair, Avery and Nott. Of his outer circle he picked a few seasoned ones and a few younger ones who needed to learn the tricks of the trade.

Lucius’ heir was among them and Tom was well aware that both he and Severus were tense about that very fact but both had been unable to get out of their other responsibilities without being noticed.

While Tom could remember the name of everyone who took his mark, the perks of an eidetic memory, he didn’t care enough to truly take note of any of them. Unless they managed something that caught his eye then they would be bumped onto his radar.

The only thing Lucius’ son did was happen to be the heir of one of his inner circle members and the nephew of another— plus being a perfect tool for a lesson Lucius needed teaching years ago. Tom would keep an eye out for him to see if he showed the same promise as his father or aunt but the boy had yet to do so. Though— there hadn’t been too many moves needing to be made, not until Grindelwald got his irritating hands involved in Tom’s takeover.

“We’re ready, my Lord.”

Tom looked around the meeting room after Rodolphus spoke and he eyed them all carefully before sending Tiberius a look. “Go.”

Tiberius Nott was one of Tom’s youngest joiners, joining at seventeen with a deep loyalty right from the start. He was skilled in many ways but his skill that had Tom keeping him close was his ability to recruit; more particularly through means of blackmail and threats.

He had a silver tongue and if Tom had someone he wanted who couldn’t be swayed by Abraham— his best recruiter in ways of persuasion, he convinced many to follow Tom over the years which was how he earned his spot in Tom’s inner circle— then he’d send Tiberius. He also knew the routine of battle well, knew how to scout out the best moment to call the Dark Lord through his mark and bring the rest of the Death Eaters into the fight.

Tom knew he was still disappointed his heir hadn’t joined but Tom himself didn’t give the matter much thought. If the boy decided to join he’d be welcomed with open arms. Theodore Nott Sr. was one of Tom’s oldest followers and he understood why he had chosen to step back from their cause. The fact that his son so readily joined appeased any insult he may have had.

An itching sensation deep within let Tom know that Tiberius was sending word and he looked across his followers with a dark expression. “Go.”

He watched them all disappear one by one and he pointedly did not leave straight away after the last of them vanished from his sight. His arrival was always delayed a few minutes after he set his followers loose. 

When he did appear, the village that was being attacked was in near ruins already. Tom was certain that the Aurors would be notified any second now; shock giving way to the instinct to get help.

This particular village wasn’t entirely magical, it was almost completely integrated with Muggles as well, perhaps the very reason Grindelwald chose to attack here.

He was against Muggles in every sense of the word and for magicals to live so closely amongst them, to call the place they lived a ‘magical village’ when it wasn’t all magicals residing within it, was an insult to everything Grindelwald had and still stood for.

There was a small town square not far from where Tom stood, at the centre of which stood a fountain that before the attack began was likely a beautiful sight but now was misshapen and barely recognisable. The streets were filled with screams and the surrounding buildings were either on fire or missing sections of it somewhere. His followers were moving with quick speed, their goal coming in had been to take out as many of Grindelwald’s followers as they could before the Aurors arrived.

Bella, very thrilled with her task, was cutting through crowds with deadly accuracy. Tom watched her pull out her blade and throw it at a nearby member of Grindelwald’s Alliance, the blade lodged itself into his throat and he dropped to the ground just in time for Bella to rip it out and continue her path of destruction.

In the distance, Tom spotted a familiar figure.

Grindelwald looked well, despite his fifty or so years trapped in Nurmengard Castle. He was dressed in dark robes, his hair cropped short and shining like silver in the late evening sun. His wand was waving about skillfully and without pause when Tom shot off a spell and gained the man’s attention. The former Dark Lord only smirked at the sight of him and moved with the battle around him while keeping engaged with Tom.

All at once Tom was reminded of Dumbledore— loathed as he was to think his name at all— and all the battles he fought against him. He couldn’t fully deny Dumbledore had been skilled, one didn’t defeat a Dark Lord of Grindelwald's level without knowing what they were doing. Grindelwald’s fighting was distinctly different though. Dumbledore was one who did his best not to take a life— preferring to amass followers to do it for him so he could maintain his holy reputation— but Grindelwald had no such reservations. His spells were deadly and dark.

As spells rang out the two defended themselves from attacks on either side as well as from each other. A bundle of spells shot for Grindelwald at once and he lifted his free hand in time with his wand, spinning it about and flinging the spells, as well as another from what Tom could detect, in a pointed direction.

Dolohov deflected the first mirage of spells with some difficulty but the extra Grindelwald added struck clear and true. Tom let out an enraged yell at the sight of one of his most loyal being struck down, Antonin dropping like a puppet whose strings were maliciously cut. 

He was absently aware of Travers, Macnair and Avery making maneuvers that allowed them to get closer to their fallen comrade but Tom paid them no mind as he unleashed a barrage of spells, Grindelwald stepping back but infuriatingly defending himself nonetheless.

A series of cracks rang out and two sets of voices called out to two different Dark Lords, warning them of the arrival of Aurors. 

Tom reached with his magic to his followers, giving them the signal to leave now, his face still furious. He pointed his wand at the building nearest to Grindelwald and the blast distracted him long enough that Tom could Disapparate from the battle all together.

Following all missions those who attended knew to return to the meeting room and if Tom had anything he needed to discuss with anyone in particular they’d be told to wait and called to his office. Usually it was a casual affair unless they failed their task or were a newer outer circle member.

Tonight when Tom returned to the dias his throne sat on it was to a room filled with so much tension one could cut a blade through it. He didn’t look at his followers, instead staring off to the side deep in thought as he stepped up onto the platform, not even bothering to sit down.

He let out a silent breath, his hands behind his back, and demanded. “How many did you take out.”

“Five,” Rodolphus told him at once. “Two of them Acolytes, the rest likely cannon fodder.”

The fact that he managed to take two of Grindelwald’s most loyal did little to quell the rage Tom felt but he nodded nonetheless. “Did we lose anyone other than Antonin?”

“Jugson, my Lord,” Rabastan answered.

Tom gave the name a brief thought and dismissed it from his mind; the man had been fuel power and not much else.

“Were you able to reach Antonin’s body?”

Travers was the one to reply and his voice was tight as he said. “No. Grindelwald’s men were waiting for us to go to him.”

Tom inclined his head minutely, finally moving to sit in his chair and look at his followers once more. “Lucius will ensure that he’s properly buried– escaped criminal or not Antonin was the last of a Pureblood line and that entitles him to dignity even in death.”

There were others of the Dolohov family but Antonin was the last of the main line. The title would go to his father’s brother now and whichever heir he had. His quiet words prompted nods from all those listening and Tom scanned their faces. Travers, Macnair and Avery’s expressions were tighter than others, understandably so.

Tom spared the brief thought that those three were likely more loyal than ever before now. One might think the loss of Dolohov— easily the most loyal out of that group— would make them stray but with Grindelwald offering the killing blow it was unlikely any amount of blackmail or threats would make the men aid him in any way now.

“Antonin’s death will not be in vain.” Tom assured them darkly. “We will kill Grindelwald for what he did today, even if it takes us years.” That got hearty agreements, hands clenching around their wands, shoulders pushed back and chins raised high. In the silence that followed Tom ordered. “Anyone who is injured goes with Travers to the Medical Wing.”

The Medical Wing was just one addition Tom had added to the manor during the initial repairs and warding so long ago and Travers was a gifted Healer. He had been one of St. Mungo’s best and his ability to bring almost anyone back from the brink of death had earned him a seat in Tom’s inner circle before he even finished his Healer training.

Only Rabastan and Aleric Rosier followed him and as Tom looked back at those left behind he spared the thought that Lucius would be pleased his heir made it out unscathed. With a wave of the hand he dismissed them all, those who lived with him heading in the same direction as Travers and the others, while the rest moved to the Apparition point just outside the meeting room.

In the waking silence of his followers leaving Tom’s thoughts turned back to the battle, to the wand Grindelwald wielded. It was one Tom knew well, the very same one he used to see clutched in Dumbledore’s very hand during their duels.

He didn’t know if he believed Harry Potter’s apparent theory of the wand being from Death itself, but he did think if Grindelwald and Dumbledore both chose to use the wand over their own then that must mean it had something other wands simply did not.

An unbeatable wand according to the tales— somewhat.

Tom had no desire to take the wand for himself. He would use the wand he was given when he first entered the magical world until the end of time; plain and simple. 

He needed an upper hand though. Spells, wand crafting and rituals weren’t what he needed. He needed a weapon crafted for him, something to render the advantage of the wand negligent—

And as that concept turned in his head he thought of Alchemy.

Nicholas Flamel had been skilled beyond anyone else but the man had died years ago— shortly following the destruction of his infamous Philosopher's Stone— but there had been one person that Tom had heard whispers of. A young child who showed clear promise. It had been said that Flamel was considering mentoring the boy but nothing had ever come of it— likely because Dumbledore warned him that the boy took Tom’s mark. Nevertheless, he had had a pure aptitude for Alchemy, even without anyone training, and could very likely be the only one capable of completing Tom’s newest task. 

As quick as the idea came to him Tom dismissed it. As it were, at the end of the First War the boy had been killed— by Tom’s inadvertent hand at that. The boy was now a mindless Inferi doomed to forever swim in a lake he would never escape.

No, he’d need to think of something else. Tom was by far one of the most powerful wizards of this age, one who didn’t need to resort to myths, legends and fairytales to accomplish his goals.

He’d avenge Antonin’s death tonight and rid the world of Grindelwald's irksome presence soon enough. After that taking over would truly be a thing of ease, especially now with his presence being known publicly. If worse came to worst and he couldn’t think up an answer to his problems it seemed Grindelwald would soon have Rose Potter in his sights which would get those twins involved.

Merlin knew the two were annoyingly adept at stopping the plans of Dark Lord’s when they wanted to be.

Chapter Text

Rose was sitting alone in the main parlour of Grimmauld Place, head tilted back on her seat staring aimlessly at the ceiling as she thought over her plans for the evening.

Her brother was over at Ron and Hermione’s but Rose neglected to attend as she had her own plans and was expecting Adrian any minute now. Thankfully the plans weren’t some Pureblood soiree and Rose knew exactly what she wanted to do to negate the less than pleasant evenings she had spent at said soirees. Not to say she had an awful time, she liked spending time with Adrian plus Marcus and Graham were almost always in attendance as well so it made things marginally better. 

Then again she’d much prefer spending time with them without having to deal with the social expectations that awaited them at Pureblood parties.

The Floo lit up, illuminating that area nearest it in a bright green glow, and Rose looked up as Adrian stepped in. He was dressed in his favoured dark robes, absently brushing off his sleeves as he stepped further into the room, and from Rose’s spot on the couch he looked taller than ever. 

She pushed herself to a stand with a smile that had Adrian’s eyes narrowing slightly but when they were nearer to one another he still pressed his now customary kiss to her cheek. 

Without further delay Rose said. “I want to go to the Muggle world.”

Adrian’s face twisted faintly in distaste. Despite his views on Muggleborns being curbed for the most part, though he still had his bitter and angry moments, he still had a lot of disdain for Muggles entirely. She lifted a brow, silently prompting him to say what was on his mind.

With careful deliberation Adrian asked. “Why exactly do you want to go?”

“There’s a play I’d like to go to.”

Rose, Harry and Sirius had been to a good amount of plays over the years since Sirius got custody of them. As well as musicals, operas and live orchestras— the latter of them less often due to the lack of interest Harry and Sirius had in them— but Rose found the whole thing rather interesting.

Most of the evenings were filled with the same crowds of Muggles and they always booked private booths when they went so there wasn’t any unnecessary conversation needed during the intermission periods. They always went to an assortment of places, all of which had amazingly beautiful architecture and never failed to have Harry saying he felt like he was in a Muggle movie when they walked through the building.

“A play,” Adrian repeated.

Rose nodded once. “It’s called Macbeth, it’s rather famous in the Muggle world. You’ll have to change of course, Sirius should have something that would fit you.”

Adrian stared at her in silence and Rose waited patiently for him to respond. After a few moments he let out a sigh. “What will I have to wear?”

She resisted the urge to grin; an almost impossible task really. To be perfectly honest she hadn't expected Adrian to agree and already had a reservation at one of their favourite restaurants as a backup just in case. Still Rose was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth so she reached out to snag his wrist and began leading him upstairs.

Rose had told Sirius her plans earlier today and he had amusedly agreed to let her go through his closet for something Muggle theatre appropriate for Adrian and while she was sure he’d reject this particular plan she already had the outfit ready to go.

When she reached her bedroom she finally let go of Adrian and grabbed the carefully laid out outfit off her bed and handed it to him. Adrian accepted them with the same caution one would have if they had been handed a ticking bomb and Rose smiled before pointing over to Harry’s bathroom door. “Go change.”

He gave her one last look but didn’t protest, heading off to the bathroom without any further complaints. 

Rose’s own outfit for the evening was in her own bathroom and she didn’t hesitate to go change as well. She went with a simple outfit, as she most often did. It was a black dress with a high neckline and dark tights; she’d have to wear a coat over it all as it was still rather cold out.

But her outfit wasn’t important— Rose was more interested in seeing Adrian in his.

While she had gotten Marcus to come with her to the Muggle world before, her friend was far more willing to oblige her when she led them to topics or spots that most prejudice Purebloods wouldn’t go to. Plus his mother wasn’t nearly as anti-Muggle as his father’s side of the family was. 

(Or perhaps Muggle wary would be the better word for it, at least for Roman Flint)

Adrian was far more stubborn though, and set in his ways for the most part, so seeing him in Muggle clothes was something Rose was very much looking forward to. With a parting glance in the mirror, and a minor adjustment to her hair, Rose stepped back out into her room and found Adrian waiting already.

She went with a classic look for him, simple black slacks and a white button up shirt. They both fit him very well and Adrian was fiddling with the cuff of one sleeve, the rings on his fingers glinting with his movements. Rose always thought Adrian would look good in Muggle clothes, especially the more high-end classy clothes; the suits and ties.

And she was absolutely right.

“Looks great,” she told him honestly.

His expression was more indulging than anything and Rose knew that despite his dislike of Muggles in general, the clothing wasn’t causing him too much irritation. 

Stepping towards him, Rose batted his hands away from his sleeve, undid the button he just clasped and rolled up the sleeve to just short of his elbow, quickly doing the same with the other. She then let the top two buttons of his shirt loose— the only people she saw button their shirt all the way up were either wearing a tie or were old and wrinkled, mostly both. The outfit coupled with Adrian’s already dark and brooding looks made him quite the striking figure Rose noted as she stepped back, studying him with a critical eye.

“There,” she said once satisfied.

Adrian huffed softly and murmured, “you look great.”

Rose only smiled in response, hardly the first time he offered a positive word on what she was wearing, even for Muggle clothing. “Ready to go?”

She got a faint smile as well as a nod and Rose felt a wave of affection in her chest at the answer. She was well aware she was taking Adrian very far out of his comfort zone.

The Pucey’s in general were very prejudiced against Muggles and Muggleborns alike. It was the main reason they joined the Dark Lord’s cause. And while he wasn’t as callous and forthright with hurling slurs and insults like his father and brother were, Adrian was still more silent in his hatred and contempt. As such Rose was happy the older boy— man now— was willing to put that aside so they could enjoy an evening together. 

When Adrian held out an arm to her, Rose didn’t hesitate to grab it, finding herself uncharacteristically eager to start their evening.

While Rose had plans with Adrian for the evening, Harry had been hanging out at Ron and Hermione’s for a good couple of hours now, the three of them sprawled around the couple’s living room.

“... it’s only been a week but it’s going pretty good.” Ron was saying to him. The other boy had gotten the job he applied for not long ago and was happily answering Harry’s queries about it. “Thankfully my boss isn’t a complete tosser— he’s actually giving me a few tips here and there.”

Harry was nodding his head, half wondering if he should apply for a job somewhere soon. His lips twisted in distaste as he imagined juggling both his lessons with Sirius and a full time job.

Maybe in the future, when he was more settled with his Lord-ly duties.

“How’s your hunt for the other Hallows going?” Ron asked curiously. He and Hermione were sitting on their loveseat but she was more focused on a pile of papers she brought home from work. Much like with his sister and Sirius, Ron and Hermione had been made to listen to his theories on the Deathly Hallows time and time again. He had told them he planned to track them down earlier this month and— Well—

“Not good,” Harry said in a morose tone. “I don’t even know how to start looking…”

Ron pursed his lips in thought, Hermione not even glancing up due to being in the same boat as Rose in regards to the realness of the Hallows. “I imagine the Cloak would be easier to find than a stone,” he told Harry.

“There’s like how many invisibility cloaks in the world,” Harry retorted, waving a hand through the air in exasperation.

Hermione finally glanced up at them, her brows furrowed. “The one that’s a Hallow would be long lasting though,” she offered. “Most invisibility cloaks don’t last long and the high priced ones can last thirty years max.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I did an essay on it in school,” Hermione said, her voice gearing up for a long winded rant. 

Harry barely listened as she went on about the different properties of invisibility cloaks and how exactly they were made. His mind was slowly whirring but his absent glance at the clock in their kitchen had him realising the time.

“I should go,” he said when Hermione finished speaking. “I don’t want to leave Sirius at home alone for supper and I don’t know when Ro’ will be home.”

He got two smiles and murmured goodbyes in reply. Right when he tossed some Floo Powder into the flames Hermione reminded him. “Don’t forget Ginny will be back tomorrow!”

Harry grinned. “Believe me, I know.”

Merlin knew he missed Ginny lots and with her time away being spent in training they couldn’t exactly talk often like when Harry was gone on his trip with Rose and Sirius.

Supper was just him and Sirius, just like Harry thought it would be, and they spent most of the time talking about some gossip about Purebloods, Quidditch, and the possibility of getting into watching Muggle sports.

“Muggle football is really big,” Harry told Sirius through a mouthful of food. “My old roommate Dean used to be nuts about it and I remember it being talked about when I was in Muggle school.”

Sirius was humming through his own mouthful. “I vaguely remember it from when I was younger but I never took too much notice of it, mind on other things. Maybe we’ll go check out a game or something.”

“It’s too bad we can’t get a telly,” Harry murmured, his mind already going back to his sister and Hermione’s long discussion on the incompatibility of electronics and magic.

At the thought of Rose Harry glanced up at Sirius. “Do you think Ro’s actually serious about Pucey?”

Sirius paused his drink midway to his mouth as he looked over at Harry. After a beat he took a quick sip and said. “I’m not sure. They both started this of the mind that it wouldn’t be anything too serious but I think they might actually be enjoying their time together.” His grey eyes studied Harry consideringly. “What’s your opinion on the matter?”

“I think they're serious about it,” Harry said at once. “Mainly ‘cause as far as I know Pucey hasn’t actually looked anywhere else and Ro’ is spending more and more time with him outside of Pureblood parties. I mean— wasn’t the whole point to keep his father off his back? You’d think the Pureblood parties would be the place where they’d want to spend all their time together.”

“They were friends first off,” Sirius reminded him as he drained the last of his drink. “Just because they’re doing this courtship doesn’t mean they wouldn’t want to spend time together outside of tedious parties.”

With a relenting tilt of his head Harry added. “I know, but she spends more time with him than Marcus these days.” 

“You know, when I asked your opinion on the matter I meant more Rosie dating rather than whether or not she was serious about this courtship,” Sirius offered after a moment of silence.

Harry looked at him in surprise, mainly for the seemingly unexpectedness of the question, and he opened and shut his mouth twice before landing on. “If it makes Ro’ happy then I support it fully.”

Which was true. Harry wasn’t having a moment like Ron had back when Ginny first started dating. Rose was her own person and unlike Ron he never had a big-brother-little-sister kind of bond those two had because he and Rose were the same age. He also didn’t have any kind of bitter feelings about his sister spending so much more time with Pucey because he knew if it came down to it and he asked her to spend more time with him she would in a heartbeat.

His words garnered a fond smile from Sirius and the topic ended there for now, the two of them doing the dishes together in a comfortable silence before heading up to their own rooms.

When Harry got to his room he stuck around in there long enough to grab his invisibility cloak and went to his sister's room to lay on her bed while he waited for her to get back. He laid in silence, dragging the cloak through his fingertips as he recalled what Sirius had told them about the thing when he first started telling them more about their parents.

“Harry.”

His eyes flickered upward as Rose walked in, an easy smile on her face as she spotted him. She was dressed in Muggle clothes, the kind she’d wear when they went somewhere fancy in the Muggle world, and she shrugged off her coat and tossed it onto her desk.

She wasn’t surprised to see him, it wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for Harry to be waiting for his sister and it always had her smiling fondly when he did. What was surprising was the cloak in his hands and Rose raised a brow at Harry at the sight of it. It wasn’t exactly a frequent object in use since they left Hogwarts a good year and a half ago.

“This was Dads.” Harry stated.

Rose agreed slowly, her brows furrowed as she stared at him after his statement of a random fact that she already knew.

Harry shook his head. “It was Dads. And before Dad it was Dad’s dads— and his dad before him and on and on and on.” His sister moved to sit on the edge of the bed, shaking her head incomprehensibly— again she already knew this— and he sat upright, his hair sticking up every which way after laying down for so long.

“Hermione said that top of the line made invisibility cloaks don’t last longer than thirty years,” Harry recounted what he learned that evening and he held up the cloak, giving it a shake. “This is the Cloak.”

“The Cloak from the story,” Rose assumed slowly, getting an emphatic look from Harry. Annoyingly enough his sister still didn’t look convinced. “What about the Stone?”

Harry huffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how to find it— but this is something!” He pointed at her fervently, looking like a bit of a madman with his wild hair, and added. “And if I’m right again that means you're the Master of two Hallows!”

“First of all, the Cloak is both of ours—”

“— it's still yours—”

“— Secondly,” Rose said over him with a mildly amused smile. “That’s assuming both your Wand theory and Cloak theory are right.”

Harry looked down at the cloak still clutched in his hands, the familiar fabric smooth between his palms. “I think I’m gonna look back into the Potter family line for something.”

“That’s gonna be a lot of crossover in names considering the inbreeding Purebloods’ are known for,” Rose told him.

His nose scrunched up at that and his sister laughed while he said. “I’m hoping to get inspired somehow.”

She finally pushed him to the side so she could lay down on the bed and Harry was quick to do the same beside her. They laid there in silence for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling above Rose’s bed, both thinking over what they did that day.

Eventually Harry rolled his head to the side, staring at the side of his sister's face. “What will you do if I find the Stone?”

“I’m not sure,” Rose admitted. “My mind is a bit stuck on the high odds that it’s not true.”

“Stuck on it or hoping?”

She glanced over at him and met his heavy stare but didn’t offer a reply as she turned her attention back to the ceiling and they succumbed to silence once again. After a good hour Harry finally got up to get ready for bed, Rose tiredly doing the same.

Harry spared a thought if his curiosity was making their lives more tedious and complicated again but dispelled the thought before it could grow. 

“Congratulations you two.”

On April fourteenth, at just past five in the morning, Edward Remus Lupin— or Teddy as he would be called— was born.

Kreacher had awoken all of them nearly an hour earlier when a very delighted Remus Lupin Floo-called them with demands to come to St. Mungo’s. It hadn’t taken a genius to work out what happened, given that Tonks had been a few days past her due date already.

When they got there, and were finally allowed to see the couple in question,  they were met with the sight of a very tired Tonks lying on one of the St. Mungo’s beds, her hair a pale blonde colour and face sweaty with a tired smile stretched across it. Remus was standing on the other side of the bed, looking frazzled but happy and in Tonks’ arms was their newly born baby boy.

Sirius had been quick to hold him, a bright grin on his face as he stared at the squirmy baby. His congratulations had been mostly distracted in favour of studying Remus’ baby but no less heartfelt.

“His hair is looking more ginger, isn’t it?” Sirius remarked, gently brushing the tufts on top of Teddy’s head with a finger.

Remus smiled proudly in a way that had him looking years younger. “It was black at first but it does seem to be getting lighter,” he remarked, sharing a fond smile with Tonks.

“Taking after his mother already,” Sirius chimed with a smirk.

Tonks laughed tiredly.

Harry and Rose were on either side of Sirius, both eyeing Teddy carefully. This was by far the closest they had been to a baby in their entire lives and neither one could believe just how small the boy was.

Sirius shot them a smile. “Who wants to hold him first?”

“Harry does,” Rose said at once, reluctance starting to crawl through her at the unfamiliar territory. She got a look from her brother at the answer, as well as amused smiles from the other three adults, but Rose ignored it all the same.

“Is it safe to hold him?” Harry asked hesitantly as Sirius started to maneuver Teddy in his arms. He awkwardly accepted the little bundle as Remus assured him.

“He’s tougher than he looks.”

Rose watched as Harry tried to keep a firm hold without holding Teddy too tightly, it looked like a real chore honestly. 

Sirius shot Remus and Tonks an amused grin then. “A Metamorphmagus. That’s sure to make parenting interesting.”

He got a deadpan expression from Remus but the smile tugging at the man's mouth nullified any seriousness in the look. Tonks on the other hand laughed delightedly at the idea. 

“I was but an angel myself,” she said promptly.

Harry snorted at the thought. They didn’t know Tonks nearly as well as they knew some people but she was a bit of a walking disaster at the best of times. Not always her fault, it just seemed to follow her at times.

It was largely why the twins liked her so much.

“Well hopefully we’ll have help in that regard,” Remus said then, his voice more cautiously serious as he shared a look with Tonks who nodded her head encouragingly.

Remus looked between Harry and Rose. “Dora and I were hoping you two would be Teddy’s godparents.”

Sirius’s face lit up at the question but the twins could only look at him in disbelief.

“Really?” Harry asked with wide eyes, still carefully holding onto Teddy. “Us?”

With a soft laugh Remus said. “Of course, I couldn’t imagine anyone better for the job.”

The twins shared a look before they smiled at Remus. “Yeah, absolutely,” Harry agreed in an eager tone as though he was worried the new parents would change their minds.

“Ro’, you wanna hold him now?” Harry asked, glancing at his sister after a beat.

With clear reluctance on her face, Rose silently nodded her head. Instead of handing Teddy directly to her, Harry first gave the baby to Sirius who, with a fond smile, then deposited him into Rose’s arms.

He was certainly lighter than she thought and that observation had her tightening her hold minutely, half worried her mind would think she didn’t need to hold him so firmly. His face was rather pudgy, eyes shut and cheeks still red from what was no doubt a good round of crying after being born, and his hair did look to be red in the Medical Wing lighting. 

Rose spared the thought that she’d be better at this when he wasn’t so fragile. As of now her nerves had her feeling like he’d fall apart in her arms and it made for a rather unpleasant experience.

“It’s a feeling you’ll get used to fast,” Sirius murmured reassuringly and she looked over at him. She absently noted Harry was talking with Remus and Tonks; likely thanking them for picking the twins as godparents. She ignored that for now as she shot her godfather a look. 

Sirius smiled fondly. “First time I held you two I had to be sitting down, didn’t trust myself to stand while holding you both. Every time I took care of you two after that— whether it was holding or feeding you— it was like you were little glass dolls.” He laughed then, eyes caught up in a memory Rose couldn’t see. “Lily loved to tease me about it.”

He gestured with his chin to Teddy and went back to his first point. “You’ll get used to him being so tiny. Babies are a lot stronger than we think.”

Rose would have to take his word for it, still maintaining her cautious movements with Teddy. She glanced down and this time she was met with the sight of his opened eyes; just barely but open nonetheless. They were a bluish colour but Rose supposed that could change any minute now. When Teddy started to make noises Rose felt an aborted sound escape her throat and started to hand him back to Sirius; who took him easily enough, though his humour was clear on his face.

The high of being made godparents had the twins feeling beyond happy for the days to come, the two of them stopping by to visit the family of three along with Sirius multiple times. 

Just the other day they— along with Andromeda and Ted Tonks— helped the new family get settled at home after Tonks and Teddy were released from St. Mungo’s. Since then they studiously decided to give them some space then, understanding that the couple may want some alone time with their baby now that they were back home and would most certainly have any extra help in the way of Andromeda who was visibly thrilled at being a grandmother.

It wasn’t long after Teddy was born that Harry and Rose decided to go visit their parents’ graves one afternoon. Sirius had some Ministry business to handle and had given Harry the day off from shadowing him— he had been doing that more lately considering Harry had learnt most of what he needed to and was now just delaying the inevitable in taking up the Potter Lordship.

Sirius was not rushing him in the slightest though he made it clear Harry was ready to take it up at any point now should he wish to.

They had come to Godric’s Hollow not that long ago, at the end of March on their father’s birthday actually, but had planned to come again once it dried up a bit. The snow had only just started to disappear then, Spring finally making itself known, but the ground had been wet and muddy predictably.

It was a lot drier now Harry noted as he and his sister weaved through the gravestones in a now familiar path to their parents’ graves. They weren’t the only ones to take advantage of the warming weather either it seemed, as there were new flowers on multiple graves.

“Where are the other cemeteries?” 

Rose glanced back from where she was standing at the foot of their mother’s grave. “Some families have grave sites or mausoleums on the grounds of their older properties and I imagine there are some other cemeteries scattered around Britain,” she offered. She was already looking away from him as she spoke and was now fixing a few things around the graves and adding some other things to make them look nicer.

Harry nodded his head silently, glancing around curiously at the nearby stones. Despite being here multiple times now he never took much note in the names that surrounded their parents. He spotted a few that were familiar; Abbot, Bones, Prewett, Macmillan, McKinnon. Most were bunched together, sticking close to their own family names understandably so. Harry paused when he spotted another familiar name—

Dumbledore.

Harry was surprised to see Dumbledore's name, unaware that the old headmaster’s family had been from here— or perhaps they only lived here shortly? 

Regardless he couldn’t help but move closer to read the names on the lichen-spotted granite, first the one above a row of birth and death dates and then the one beneath that.

KENDRA DUMBLEDORE

AND HER DAUGHTER ARIANA

Based on the dates, Kendra had to have been Dumbledore’s mother and Ariana his younger sister. Harry’s eyes trailed to the small quotation below this.

Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

He spared a thought as to why Dumbledore didn’t want to be buried here, surely someone would have done so, right? It only made sense to want to be put to rest next to your family. Looking at the dates, just how long ago Ariana Dumbledore passed away— her mother before her— he wondered if perhaps Dumbledore thought of those at Hogwarts as his family in the end more so than these two people long since gone.

Harry wouldn’t have… at least not to the point where he’d choose to be buried at a school so far away from the rest of his family.

“Harry.”

The sound of his sister’s voice pulled Harry from his morose thoughts and he looked to see her not at their parents’ graves any longer but at another grave a few feet away. He didn’t hesitate to move closer to her, careful to step around each burial spot as he did.

“What is it?” He asked when he reached her, curious as to what caught her attention. Instead of voicing anything, Rose only pointed to the grave in front of them. It was extremely old, weathered so much that it took Harry a good few seconds to realise what he was seeing. When it registered he couldn't help but gasp. “The Deathly Hallows.”

Sure enough there it was, etched into the stone and almost as faded as the nearly illegible name underneath it. A large triangle with a circle at its center touching each side and a line scoring right down the middle.

He crouched to get a closer look, his brows furrowed and eyes squinted. “It looks like it says… Ig— Ignotus? I think?” 

“Sounds like an old wizarding name,” Rose murmured from her still standing position. “What about the last name?”

“Peverell,” Harry said slowly, a feeling of maybe not triumph but achievement towards the subject he’s been feeling so stuck on. “This has to be one of them— one of the brothers, right? Or at least a descendent of them…”

Rose didn’t offer any comment but that was fine to Harry, his mind was more focused on how exactly he could use this information to prove his already spinning theories.

“I don’t remember coming across the family name in the things I’ve looked into,” Harry said suddenly, pushing himself to a stand as he looked at Rose.

She tilted her head to the sight, eyes still on the stone in front of them. “Maybe they died out. Or maybe they ran out of male heirs and their daughters took on new names.”

That made sense. That plus the fact that Harry hasn’t actually seen the Peverell name anywhere would mean Harry would have to look even further back into the Pureblood families.

He’s found out more with a lot less.

“Do you need to stay here and stare at this stone to figure this out or can we go home?”

Harry huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes at his sister. “We can leave,” he retorted in a sassy voice. 

He took one last look at the stone, absently aware of the almost silent crack of Rose’s Apparition, before he thought to Grimmauld Place and left Godric’s Hollow— and the Peverell gravestone— behind.

Working in the Life Chamber in the Department of Mysteries was a soothing thing the majority of the time. While the rainy days— frequent things in these areas— had most people forced to work under the umbrella in the centre of the room, the odd hours people worked meant it was never overly crowded. 

The sound of the rain also added plenty to the soothing atmosphere.

Like today for example.

The Life Chamber was mostly empty, with only two other people besides Rose in there today; not too surprising given it was almost ten o’clock. The rain pattered against the soft material of the umbrella just loud enough that the scratch of quills couldn’t be heard. There were seven tables under the umbrella, all misshapen circles and about three feet of space between them all. Rose was currently seated at one on the far right, numerous pieces of paper scattered in front of her each with an assortment of information on it.

Every section of the Unspeakable field had copies of previous research that was free for anyone working there to dig through. There were a multiple of categories they were all sorted into; Proven, Disproven, Ongoing, Forbidden.

Why they’d have Forbidden right there was beyond Rose, clearly they were all going to take a look at it if not for the sake of curiosity.

Rose had been happy to see that all ‘Darker’ subjects hadn’t been automatically sorted into Forbidden. Apparently the Department of Mysteries didn’t hold quite the same biases as their Ministry did.

One of the subjects she had seen— the one that had her interested in working in the Life Chamber— was the study into the birth rates of Squibs and Muggleborns. 

There had been plenty on it too, though most of it had only dated back to the last century; she had looked into it and that was largely because there were no Muggleborn Unspeakables until then, the occupation being solely for those of Pureblood in the past. The rate of Muggleborn births had been steadily increasing as was the rate of Squibs being born in the magical world too. Rose suspected it was even higher than the records they had due to most Pureblood’s hiding when they had children who were born without magic.

A prime support to this was the Puceys.

The secret Rose knew about Adrian— the one he had accused her of bluffing about when it came to what she knew back in her second year? Nathaniel Pucey wasn’t the first born to the family. There had been another son born about a year before Adrian’s older brother. 

Alexander Pucey, a man particularly stingy about maintaining their no-Squib status, had kept all of his wife’s pregnancies under wraps for some time, not showcasing his heirs until they were almost two.

An age they most certainly should have been showing magic by.

When his first-born hadn’t shown any signs of magic after the year-and-a-half mark a test had been administered and the results had him cast out into the Muggle world, his existence being removed from the family entirely. His two sons had been made aware of the fact only so they could be told not to be too vocal about pregnancies should another Squib come along. It was something only mentioned once between the two brothers themselves through the Floo in the Slytherin common room.

Adrian mentioned a few months back that it was Olivia who refused to hide her pregnancy and the family lucked out that just a few days ago the baby had displayed some accidental magic.

A small incident, merely summoning a blanket towards himself, but proof of magic nonetheless.

Honestly had Rose not garnered such a great friendship with Adrian it was a secret she would have been glad to lord over the family for years to come. But now it was a secret that she’d make sure stayed a secret— so long as Adrian wished it to be at least.

Regardless, Rose was certain that the Squib rating was a lot higher than what the records of the Unspeakables stated.

It was the more prejudiced Purebloods who— in protest of the growing amount of Muggleborns— chose to stick even closer to the old families, inbreeding further and further and only shortening their numbers in the process.

Families like the Weasleys were a rare breed; most Pureblood families only had one or two heirs at the most.

“You must have a Muggleborn somewhere in the family.”

Rose glanced up at the sudden noise and she was mildly surprised— and very irritated— to see a man standing on the opposite end of the table she was at. 

A swift scan at their surroundings showed the tables were still just as empty as earlier, the same two other people that were here when Rose arrived still sitting in the same spots. Her eyes trailed back to the person who spoke and she gave him a quick once-over. He was of above average height for a guy and had a lean build. His skin was a warm tone and he had dark hair that was messy but in a rather purposeful kind of way. 

Rose raised a brow in regards to his earlier statement and the man grinned. “Only Muggleborns or Halfbloods really look into this particular subject,” he informed her in an easy voice. “Mainly because Purebloods either don’t care to notice or take offence to the very idea of it all.”

Not something that really surprised Rose nor was it something she needed pointed out to her. She was ready to go back to her previous task when the man spoke up again. 

“I’m Milo,” he introduced himself and Rose withheld a sigh.

“Rose,” was all she offered in return.

Apparently her short response was not a big enough sign of her unwillingness to chat as Milo sat down, his eyes darting across the assortment of papers on the table. “Have you read Unspeakable Blishwick’s work on this subject?”

Rose frowned briefly, her mind going back to the different research essays and notes she’s read. “No, it wasn’t with the files,” she said at last, already wondering what it was about.

“He postulated that Muggleborns are in fact descendents from Squibs that were cast out,” Milo informed her, his hazel eyes watching her with a faint interest. “His theory was that two true Muggles can’t produce a magical child. That there has to be some magic in the bloodline somewhere.”

It was an interesting theory. Rose thought it was backed by a lot of the research she has already read. The rate of Squibs took a noticeable increase over a century ago and the increase in Muggleborns came about forty years ago, just enough time for a disowned Squib to have children and their children to have a children and after that the odds of them crossing another magical bloodline only increased and a Muggleborn would be born.

She wondered why the theory wasn’t researched more.

“Are you interested in the subject?” Rose asked then, she’d assume he was if he felt the need to bring it up.

Milo gave a shrug. “It’s an interesting thought,” he admitted. “I think it’s definitely worth further researching but it seems not many agree.”

“Why don’t you do it then?”

“As interesting as it is, I've had my mind on other things,” Milo said, glancing over his shoulder at the two other Unspeakables. “I read up on the subject when I first started but it wasn’t something I came back to.”

Rose nodded slowly, studying him carefully as she thought over why he might have started a conversation. Since she started working most Unspeakables had kept to their own, barring the Managers and Supervisors for each sector who occasionally checked in on everyone. She had to give him credit for not looking at her scar once. Then again she hadn’t realised he approached until he spoke to her.

A fact she was annoyed with herself for. She thought she was a lot more aware of her surroundings, a necessary thing in her life really.

“How long have you been an Unspeakable?” Rose asked next, her curiosity carefully hidden behind a tone of indifference.

Milo smiled again as he said. “Just over two years. I started just before I turned twenty-two, back in ninety-eight.”

Which made him twenty-four now, or soon to be if not yet.

“So what other things have you found more interesting than Blishwick’s theory?”

“I study in the Love Chamber for the most part,” he told her, leaning in closer as he laid his arms on top of the table. “You been in there yet?”

Rose nodded her head silently. While it wasn’t a place that interested her too much she had made sure to get a good look on what exactly people researched in that area.

The obvious was the effects of Amortentia. How it affects babies conceived under its effects, rare as the occurrence could be. Both the magical and non-magical abilities people have under it in comparison to without it, do they gain strength and abilities when it comes to protecting the one they ‘love’? Could they achieve more or are they limited to what they knew before being dosed?

There was also the study of the force of nature that was love. A lot of Unspeakables were attempting to understand and duplicate the magical protection self-sacrificing love created.

Said to be the only magic strong enough to repel the Killing Curse.

That was how Rose learnt that she and Harry were an interesting topic in this sector. Plenty of Unspeakables— mostly back when the First War first ended— had attempted to get a meeting with the two of them. Mostly with their scars and whatever residue of magic that lingered on them after their mother’s sacrifice.

The requests had been denied by Dumbledore way back when and, as she learnt, by Sirius after he gained custody of them. She was enough of a researcher to know that the length of time since they got their scars wouldn’t stop the most determined from trying to figure out what they could about it. 

It wasn’t something she was willing to dive into though, considering what she knew about what was in her and her brother's scars.

Then there was the more romantic of the bunch who wanted to see if they could use magic— spells or runes— to find a person’s ‘perfect match’ or to determine if two people were already a perfect match. There were other topics that Rose hadn’t bothered to look into, love was a rather broad spectrum after all.

“What is it that interests you most there?”

“The magical protections of self-sacrificing magic,” he said honestly and it was only then that his eyes flickered down to the scar on her throat. “I find it to be an interesting and at times conflicting topic.”

Rose lifted a brow. “Why conflicting?”

Smiling apologetically, Milo said. “With all due respect, I think if a mother’s love was enough to protect their child then it would occur far more often than just the one proven instance.”

“I agree,” Rose said plainly. It was a fact she and her brother thought since first being made aware of what ‘saved’ them back then. Oh she had no doubt their parents saved them and would forever be grateful for what they did for Harry and her. She just didn’t think it came down to the power of love.

Face tipping into surprise, hazel eyes widening so minutely that if Rose wasn’t watching him so closely she would have missed it, Milo seemed to pause in place before he said. “I would have thought you of all people would believe in it, considering it’s the leading theory to you and your brother’s survival.”

“Just because it’s the leading theory doesn’t make it true.”

Milo nodded his head to that. “Regardless I find the idea of it intriguing, certainly there must have been more to it than just love. Either a spell of some-sort to strengthen the protection or a particular weakness to the Dark Lord at that time.”

Dark Lord. Rose couldn’t help but note his use for the title. From what she has seen it was only those who were loyal— or related to those who were loyal— to him that actually referred to Tom as ‘the Dark Lord’. Most went with the nameless monikers he had and those who truly opposed him without fear called him Voldemort.

“Is Love your main field of study?” Rose asked, leaving the topic of her mother’s sacrifice behind rather pointedly.

Milo seemed to accept that change in subject easily enough. “I go back and forth between it and the study of Death.”

Rose hummed softly, her eyes trailing back to the research she had been going through and the notes she had been taking; the two topics were a rather odd combination, but then again almost any two would be odd to pair barring Life and Death. 

The Death Chamber was one that interested her too, though not enough to study it first.

“Have you seen the Veil yet?” Milo asked curiously.

The Veil. Otherwise known at the arch they separated the world of the living from the land of the dead. She had seen it, had heard the faint whispers of voices though no words could ever be made out; a common occurrence for all those who have worked in the section.

She gave a confirming noise to his question as she began to gather her things. “Is that what you study most in there?” Rose asked as she stacked the papers together. 

“I find it interesting but it’s not the thing I study most,” Milo told her with a one shouldered shrug. 

He didn’t offer an explanation on what exactly he did study but Rose didn’t press for more answers. There was an array of things he could be studying; communication with the dead, bringing back those that had already passed— Necromancy if you wanted an exact word for it. 

There was also the study of the Killing Curse. Apparently before she and Harry survived it many would try to search for ways to survive the deadly curse. With little luck. Some still looked for ways as apparently self-scarification was hardly a foolproof plan.

She had been told by Unspeakable Dawson that the busiest time for the Death Chamber was the month before and the month after Samhain; a time in which the Veil between the living and dead was the thinnest. Apparently at that time one could make out scattered words from beyond the Veil. It was one of the few times that all the Unspeakables would work on one topic. Not all at once, nor all the time, but rather setting up a rotation so that there was always someone listening to the Veil and writing down whatever few words that could be heard. Then the information would be shared with all those who wanted to study it.

Without offering any closing comment Rose stood, scooping up her things as she did so. Milo only smiled at the action and he said. “It was nice talking.”

Rose only tilted her head in reply. She wouldn't say she was completely annoyed with the interruption, he did raise a few interesting topics, but she wouldn't say she enjoyed the company either.

It was the time that had her leaving though, the clock on a nearby wall showing it was nearing half past eleven. Rose had promised Sirius a while back that if she was going to study past midnight she’d let him know. Since she hadn’t done that when she saw him today that meant Rose would call it a night now.

Merlin knew he could worry like no other when it came to her and Harry.

She only spared Milo one last glance before she left, making sure to put the research papers she had dug out back where they came from before leaving the Life Chamber all together.

The conversation with Milo about Muggleborns and Squibs had stuck with her long after she got home and she wondered where exactly Blishwick's notes were.

Surely he wasn’t the only one to think along that line?

Either way, it was a topic Rose planned to look further into, her mind already making notes on what exactly she’d need to find out and gather and what she could do to prove or disprove it all.

One would think years— No— decades of going to Pureblood parties would lead to a certain toleration to the whole thing. An ease of abhorrence or enmity to the whole task if anything.

But that was not the case.

Adrian had been going to Pureblood parities since he could walk and he always found them to be tiresome at the best and irritating at the worst. It was only due to the company of his friends that kept them tolerable but even then he would much rather be anywhere else. Lately any party that Rose wasn’t in attendance to was a guaranteed disappointment.

Like tonight.

Rose was working late this evening, diving head first into some research for the Unspeakables, and honestly she made the right move as far as Adrian was concerned. It was only the fact that it was Graham’s parents throwing the party that had Adrian even attending; anyone else he would have left by now. A quick glance at his watch told him it was already nearing eleven and he was counting down the second till he could leave.

Thank Merlin for Marcus really, otherwise this night would have been downright torture.

“How is it that Graham managed to slip away?” Marcus asked suddenly as he scanned the room.

Adrian scoffed into his drink. “Because he’s a lucky bastard,” he offered under his breath. 

Honestly he understood his friend’s need to flee considering Graham’s parents packed this party with numerous single women. He and Marcus were really only staying to offer halfhearted excuses and claims of ‘just seeing Graham’ whenever his parents would come around.

Marcus laughed softly at his remark before he suddenly said. “Heads up.”

Adrian glanced towards where Marcus had nodded his head and he was hard-pressed not to groan at the sight of Katrina Meier strutting towards him. The woman had been relentless since their first meeting, having attended the vast majority of parties he attended and going out of her way to speak with him at each one. At least with Rose here she’d make some biting comment that never failed to amuse Adrian and make Meier leave.

“Adrian,” she greeted with a sultry smile once she reached him and Marcus.

He couldn’t say that she wasn’t beautiful. She had the appealing features that many envied, only enhanced by her make up and styled hair, and add the fact that she continuously wore clothing that only drew eyes to her more generous curves, Meier made for an unforgettable figure.

It was her attitude that was an issue.

And— listen— Adrian couldn’t exactly call himself a ‘humble’ person. He knew he was downright arrogant at the worst of times but at least he didn’t throw it around without rhyme or reason or act as if he was entitled to whatever he wanted just because he existed.

Clenching his jaw, Adrian bit off his own greeting. “Meier.”

“I’ve told you before you can call me Katrina,” she shot back with that same smile, her hand coming out to brush at the sleeve of his dress robes. It took a lot for him not to rip his arm out of her grasp, instead settling for a cold look that made those a lot weaker leave his presence immediately. 

Unfortunately Meier wasn’t one of the weaker ones.

“Where is Rose Potter this evening?” She asked in a haughty voice, glancing around the room as if saying Rose’s name would summon her.

Marcus was the one to answer this time, blandly telling her. “She’s at work.”

Meier only spared him a brief glance before she told Adrian. “And she left you to attend parties on your own? Surely she’d want to keep you company. I certainly wouldn’t leave my courter to endure these kinds of things alone.” She added the last bit in a teasing whisper, her lips quirking up into a smirk.

If he had known her during her school days Adrian likely would have had some kind of fling with her. Nothing serious obviously but a few hookups at the very least, she could almost be considered along his type once upon a time.

But he was looking for someone to last a lifetime now, as was Meier, and she was the last kind of person he’d want to spend his life with. A spoiled princess used to getting everything she wanted and relying on her family's money for everything else. She had all the markers to be a trophy wife and yet her family name and wealth had her being the one finding a trophy husband ironically enough. Something very few men would be happy to be— at least very few of the men that she was likely interested in.

“I have more than enough experience dealing with these kinds of events,” Adrian said cooly, not at all charmed by the not so subtle jibe at Rose.

Meier leaned in closer, the cut of her robes leaving her healthy dose of cleavage in clear view, and murmured. “You know I spoke with your father at the last party we attended.”

Adrian did know that. His father, in a rare show of allowance, had mentioned her to him and voiced that ‘even though families outside of Britain were distasteful the Meiers showed a lot of promise’. He then went on to say if things were going nowhere with Rose that Adrian would do well to capitalize on the Meier’s daughter’s interest.

It was an infuriating conversation and only soured Adrian’s opinion of this woman even further.

Perhaps it was an expected comment on his fathers behalf though. Adrian was not unaware that he was getting impatient. The vast majority of Purebloods his age were already married or engaged or in a relationship that was pointedly heading in those directions. The only exception being ones like Marcus who had parents— a parent in Marcus’ case— that wanted them to marry someone of their own choosing or the lucky ones who weren’t first in line to the family name and whose parents decided they wouldn't have the same weighted expectations as their older sibling.

Unfortunately Adrian wasn’t one of those lucky few despite being a second born.

Even Graham was on a ticking clock, only saved by the fact that his parents could be rather passive at times and weren’t nearly as heavy handed with schemes as Adrian’s own father.

So it was only a matter of time before his father decided Rose was proving to be a lost cause in terms of courtship and set up a marriage for Adrian himself. At best, if he didn’t pick someone to propose to soon he could hope to delay a wedding his father arranged to December but even that was being wildly optimistic. He wouldn’t be going into the next year still single though, that he was certain of. It was a thought that filled him with dread and realistically should have had him moving a lot faster at finding someone.

Adrian was saved from any kind of reply to the woman’s not-at-all-subtle hint when someone called Meier’s name. Her eyes darted over to where the voice came from and she made a vague gesture as she leaned back out of Adrian’s face.

She shot him another smile. “Come find me later. We’ll talk more.” With those parting words she left, strutting away with confident steps, her hair swaying with each move of her hips.

“I’m staying maybe ten more minutes,” Adrian said as he glanced over at Marcus.

Marcus looked mildly amused but understanding. “She’s certainly relentless,” he said lowly, eyes darting over to where Meier had disappeared.

Adrian just rolled his eyes, already tired of her existence, and he glanced around the party once more, taking note of the smaller number of people around them.

“I heard Sylvia was looking to strike up a courtship with you,” Marcus commented as he eyed the crowds around them too, absently reaching out to snag a glass of champagne from a nearby tray.

Swiping his tongue along the backs of his teeth, Adrian muttered. “She brought it up but I was uninterested.”

“What?” Marcus asked in surprise, his face openly shocked as he looked at him.

His surprise was well-founded. Sylvia Rowle was by far the closest Adrian got to an actual relationship. They were in the same year at Hogwarts, both in Slytherin, and the two of them had had a non-serious affair for their last two years. 

It had been flings and nothing more— two or three encounters every other month— as neither one of them were interested in anything serious. That was largely why they had worked so well. There had always been a faint ‘maybe’ with them though. A ‘maybe they would make this serious when they were older’ that neither one of them made a point to acknowledge but both knew was there.

“I would have thought she’d be the one you would have chosen,” Marcus remarked as he watched Adrian carefully.

Adrian could only make a noncommittal face at the words, not sure what exactly to say to that.

“I had heard quite a few names that have expressed interest, at least a quarter of which would be good matches,” Marcus said then as he turned to give Adrian his full attention. “And yet all of them have mentioned you turned them down rather resoundingly.”

“Your point?” 

Marcus raised a brow. “My point is for someone who is being made to find a match— one your father won’t choose for you— you aren’t trying very hard to find one.”

He scoffed at that, a reflex that he wasn’t able to suppress in that moment. “I’m finding someone I’ll actually want to be married to.” He reminded Marcus pointedly, his eyes darting around his face in a show of confidence that was undercut by the fact that Adrian wasn’t actually meeting his heavy stare directly.

“And who exactly is that?” Marcus was quick to ask. “Because lately the only person you’re spending your time with is Rose.”

Adrian clenched his jaw at the comment and he couldn’t help but look away from Marcus all together, he was far to adapt at reading him after years of friendship. 

He wasn’t wrong. Honestly as time went on Adrian tried less and less to find someone he would be willing to marry. The idea of devoting time to making some bond with someone else when he was already in a comfortable spot with Rose was just tiresome. It seemed like a waste of time really. He had the opportunity to actually enjoy a courtship rather than look at it as some long suffering thing— as he always imagined it would be— so was it a crime that he didn’t want to bother with finding someone else?

That and he highly doubted he’d find another girl who intrigued him as much as Rose did. Between her skill for magic, her at times dark humour— much like his own—, her stubborn attitude that oddly didn’t infuriate him and their already close friendship… Add in the fact that Rose was just naturally beautiful, always had been really, and—

Adrian hadn’t been looking elsewhere. Couldn’t imagine looking elsewhere really, because elsewhere would just be so lacking in comparison.

The way things were going, odds are Adrian would wind up marrying whoever his father chose for him because he just wasn’t going to be able to choose for himself without being bitter about the whole thing.

This plan had seemed so simple going in. Just spend more time with Rose and buy himself more time to find someone he could see himself being with for the rest of his life— or at least tolerate being with. It would help if he knew what Rose was thinking about all this. The thing was she was one of the most difficult people to get a read on the majority of the time. His knowledge of her habit of making sure her brother and godfather were happy and her obsession with researching a wide array of topics really didn’t help him now.

“You gotta do something sooner rather than later,” Marcus finally murmured to him, drawing Adrian’s eyes back to him. He found an understanding but unrelenting look at once. “Even if you get an answer you don’t want at least then you can find an option that won’t leave you miserable for the rest of your life.”

Adrian let out a heavy sigh and drained the last of his drink.

Yeah. Marcus wasn’t wrong.

Chapter Text

In the last three months since the Parkinson Imbolc party Rose had attended nine different events officially with Adrian and neglected to go to four others while he went on his own. At all of these events the same thing happened— 

Katrina Meier spent a good chunk of time near Adrian, going out of her way to initiate some kind of physical contact while offering praising words and making none to subtle mentions of her family’s influence. The girl had even gone as far as to speak with Adrian’s father at one event and the man apparently found the idea of her appealing, if the way he urged Adrian to consider the girl was any indication— the man overlooking his normal disdain for families outside of Britain because of the amount of influence her family actually had.

It did little to soothe Rose’s growing irritation that Adrian only seemed to be annoyed and fed up with the girl.

Which is why after the last incident Rose had gone up to the Black library and scoured all the books for an answer to her problem. It took some time but she found one at last, on a page entitled; Cassiopeia’s Revenge.

Rose didn’t know the tale of Cassiopeia, or why she felt the need to get revenge, but the curse on the page was exactly what she had in mind. It took some tweaking at first but now, almost an entire week later, Rose was happy with what it would do.

Now all she needed was someone to cast it at the gathering tonight— and she knew exactly who to get to do it.

She was seated in a seat further to the back of the Leaky Cauldron, well out of sight of the main crowds going through and Rose was confident those who actually lingered around the pub wouldn’t be bothered enough to try and see what she was doing. Her guest arrived on careful steps, slowly pulling out the chair across the table from Rose and sitting down. 

Rose smiled at the nervous look on Pansy Parkinson’s face, though the girl hid it well. Her hair was cut to just above her shoulders now, one side tucked behind her ear, and she seemed to have lost the roundness in her cheeks that Rose recalled her having in their youth, her features now more defined. She must have done something to her nose too because it was no longer pug-like, bordering on button-like now.

The girl was useful in her own way and Rose wouldn’t say she wasn’t skilled, Parkinson managed to maintain a position in the top ten in their year for most of their Hogwarts years.

After her careful analysis of the girl, Rose slid a contact across the table and held out a quill, waiting silently as Parkinson read through the thing three times. It wasn’t anything nefarious, something vaguely similar to what Ron and Hermione signed not long ago actually, with the notable exception that if anyone mentioned anything about what they would discuss Parkinson would be given no other choice but to play clueless.

Eventually Parkinson signed the thing. “What do you want?”

“I’m offering you an opportunity to put the past in the past, so long as you do one thing for me,” Rose told her outright.

“Put the past in the past,” Parkinson repeated, straightening in her seat.

She knew Parkinson wouldn't be able to resist what Rose would offer, even the vague mention of it had made her more eager to listen. 

“I’m willing to overlook your past… distasteful behaviour and if you are successful at what I require of you then from here on out you will simply be a former classmate of mine with noteworthy intelligence.”

Parkinson stilled where she was and reaffirmed slowly. “If anyone happens to talk about me to you that is what you will say...”

Rose smiled briefly. Parkinson’s hunt for a husband had yet to yield favourable results and part of that was because of the reputation she had as a marriage obsessed harpy. The shallow and trophy looking men would be willing to oversee that because they had little interest in their wife really but Parkinson didn’t want that kind of man. She wanted at least a chance at a happy marriage— which meant finding a man who would like to hear good things about her.

And despite Rose’s silent nature, one of the most frequent questions she got were about girls her age; asked by men who were either courting them or were being approached by them. Rose almost never gave a verbal answer to the questions but the odd time she did it seemed to hold some kind of weight. Why exactly she had no clue, either because she was a Potter twin, a Black, bluntly honest or some combination of all three.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I will say,” Rose confirmed to Parkinson smoothly.

She let out a wavering breath and nodded more determinedly. “What do you want me to do?”

Rose slid a paper across the table. “Do you know of Katrina Meier?”

Parkinson looked over the paper with a brief furrow of her brows. “Yes. She’ll be at the Bulstrode ball this evening.”

“I know. And all you have to do is get close to her— the closer the better— and stay there for at least five minutes then leave. After that you take that piece of paper and burn it.”

There was a beat. 

“That’s it?”

Rose smirked faintly. “That’s it.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“It would hardly be bright for me to be there and regardless I was invited to a Ministry banquet this evening so I won’t be attending.” Rose told her plainly, her eyes darting to the mostly full pub behind Parkinson. “Now do we have an accord?”

The girl, woman now really, nodded at once. “Yes.”

That had been earlier today and with that part of her plan ready to roll, Rose was free to attend the Ministry of Magic banquet with Sirius and her brother. It was a rather tight guest list, a few of the more noble Pureblood families, Ministry officials and visiting European Ministry officials. In the wake of the attacks that revealed the two Dark Lord’s true return the nearby European countries had become more interactive with one another, quickly building alliances as they had no clue when or where either Dark Lord would strike next.

Britain was considered to be the most in danger due to Voldemort’s past actions that took place a little over a mere two decades ago, but the last big attack— the one that led to the death of Azkaban escapee Antonin Dolohov— had happened just on the border of Germany and France. Also noteworthy was the fact that Grindelwald had focused outside of Britain for the most part during his last reign of terror just over half a century ago which is what brought the neighbouring countries in as well.

The news of Dolohov’s death had brought a bit of solace to Mrs. Weasley. While her brothers Fabian and Gideon Prewett had been killed by five Death Eaters it was well known that Dolohov was the killing blow for the both of them. Mrs. Weasley had been distraught back when she found out the man had escaped Azkaban in the twins’ fifth year so the news of his death had been a surprising bout of closure that most Weasleys were beginning to think she may never get.

In regards to tonight Rose wasn’t sure why she and Harry had been invited. While they were Sirius’ heirs from what she saw upon first arriving there weren't any other heirs in attendance— in fact the two of them were the youngest ones there.

The fact that they were seated near Fudge answered perhaps a bit more of her wonderings. 

Fudge, once not wanting to be known as the man in office when a Dark Lord rose to power, was now the man who was in office when two Dark Lords rose to power. The man who defeated one of them and was the only one the other was said to fear was now long dead and Fudge had gone out of his way to tarnish said man’s name and reputation in the last few years of his life.

Now he was likely going over everything Dumbledore might have said to him— tried to warn or advise him about. Which, knowing Dumbledore, would mean keeping Harry and Rose close, given that Dumbledore was well known for going to great lengths to keep the twins in his sphere of influence.

Rose absently wondered if the old man ever told Fudge about the Prophecy. 

Regardless, the man’s tenure as Minister of Magic was dwindling and he knew it. Marcus said he was already given notice about his removal from office at the end of April, now he was just scrambling to go out with some grace rather than complete disgrace.

It hadn’t been long enough yet for people to completely forget Dumbledore’s warnings years ago and now that he was proven to be right Rose wondered how long before people began to bemoan his loss and make a martyr out of him.

The Ministry meal was well served, catered by one of the best restaurants in Britain, and the decor and table settings were very impressive— as they usually were according to Sirius. True to the current holiday the decorations were done up in rather lively colours; light blue, yellow and green to name a few. It was a holiday rather in contrast to Samhain, sitting on the opposite end of the Wheel of the Year from it. Samhain celebrated death whereas Beltane was the celebration of life. The party was an annual thing, and long ago it was referred to as the Beltane Banquet— now though it was simply called the May Banquet since the Ministry of Magic stopped openly celebrating magical holidays.

Tom was in attendance tonight, further down the table and speaking to a woman Rose didn't recognize but from what she could make out she had a French accent.

She shared a glance with her brother who was on her right and he gave her a look that screamed ‘why are we here?’. It made Rose smother a smile as she turned her attention back to her meal, slowly starting to cut it up into pieces. The conversations around them ranged, a lot of it more light-hearted topics in a way that had to be intentional, but eventually the topic had to turn to the Hippogriff in the room, that being the impending war with two Dark Lords.

It was another French woman closer to their end of the table— the French Minister of Magic, Eloise Monet, Rose recognized— who broached the topic when she asked. “Are you at least getting a resurgence of people signing up for the Auror program here in Britain?” Her accent, while distinguishable, wasn’t nearly as heavy as Fleur’s was, Rose couldn’t help but note.

“We are,” Madam Bones, who was seated two seats diagonal from Rose, replied. “The Ministry will be going back to the quick paced Auror training that it always goes to during times of war.”

Fudge took that moment to chime in from his seat at the end of the table, his head sans his typical bowler hat for dinner. “I’m certain that more people will join too after they hear of this. The regular training program was always a bit intimidating to most.”

A man who Rose thought was the German Minister looked at her, Harry and Sirius. “Vill any of you join?” He had a thick dark moustache that matched his eyebrows and a square jaw. Rose thought he looked friendly in a rather intimidating kind of way; if that made any sense at all.

Sirius shook his head while Harry said outright. “No.”

“You were part of the Auror ranks in the First War, were you not, Lord Black?” Fudge commented somewhat pointedly.

With a faint smile, Sirius said. “Well that didn’t turn out too well for me in the end, so I think I will elect out this time around.”

‘Not turning out well’ meaning the same Ministry he worked for had thrown him in Azkaban without a trial for the next twelve years of his life and then when he escaped set a Kiss-on-Sight order against him with the dementors.

A rather gruesome end for anyone, having their soul sucked out by one of those creatures.

There were some awkward shifts from the British Ministry officials and Rose wanted to laugh. Sirius’ ability to make people uncomfortable so casually was by far one of his best qualities.

Fudge tried to turn the attention to the twins then. “What is it that has you two so reluctant to join? You were at the top of your classes— you, Mr. Potter, in Defence Against the Dark Arts most especially if I recall. And as I remember Dumbledore had thought very highly of you both.”

Before either twin could offer a reply someone said. “Didn’t Dumbledore say You-Know-Who had returned some years ago?”

Now Fudge shifted uncomfortably, his previous prying air gone in an instant, and he was quick to spout off his defence. “There hadn’t been sufficient proof to back his claims. The instance that made Dumbledore believe in his return had been explained for by a previous criminal who had escaped Azkaban.” He waved a vague hand towards Sirius and added. “Then not long after that the man who framed Lord Black had been caught and admitted under Viratiserum to orchestrating the whole thing.”

Fudge truly was a politician, Rose thought in amusement. His instinct to cover his own blunders while offering up excuse after excuse for them was a thing of wonder.

A French guy seated on the French Minster’s left looked at the twins. “I assume Dumbledore ‘ad kept a close eye on you because of ‘ow you weakened ze younger Dark Lord, oui?”

“Was it ever confirmed whether or not the man was dead or alive?” Someone else asked.

“There was no body,” Madam Bones told them all as more and more people gave up on their own conversations to listen to theirs. “The bedroom the twins had been found in had been completely destroyed though and both of them were still in their crib. Considering Voldemort’s reputation—”

There were a few flinches at the name but an Auror further down the table finished her sentence. “The man wouldn’t have just left them alive.”

Madam Bones nodded towards him. “His followers had been up in arms as well and those we already had in custody seemed to feel what happened to him.”

“All of this led to the strong belief that You-Know-Who had been killed by his own attack,” Fudge said in a final tone and he then looked back at the twins. “Dumbledore seemed certain he would come back and while we couldn’t take him at just his word alone, he did seem certain that the two of you would be the only ones who would be able to stop him. His theory is understandable considering.”

Rose said nothing while Harry frowned slightly but it was someone else who voiced the question likely on most of the table's mind. “Why is it understandable? Because they survived an attack as infants? Surely that had more to do with their parents…”

Fudge shook his head, a pompous expression crossing his face at holding information that no one else knew, and he told the room at large. “Before the end of the First War with You-Know-Who there had been a prophecy that predicted his end, as well as the fact that he’d mark two children born at the end of July.”

“A prophecy…” a woman with an Italian accent said dubiously.

“Dumbledore seemed certain in its truth,” Fudge said firmly.

Rose was hard pressed not to roll her eyes. Honestly, she hoped Tom released Dumbledore’s secrets sometime soon because it would get old fast hearing the man being spoken of like he was the holy grail. This country certainly didn’t show him much love in his final years— but they were a hypocritical bunch.

Harry cut into the conversation, his face growing steely as he said. “Prophecies are mostly self-fulfilling and even if it is true me and Ro’ aren’t fighting.”

“Why not?” Someone asked and it was only the fact that his voice was curious rather than condemning that had both twins keeping their anger at bay.

“It’s someone’s choice whether they want to fight,” Harry said resoundingly. “Free will and all that.”

The German Minister looked at Rose. “How ‘bout you?”

“I’m a pacifist at heart,” she said with a smile. Sirius grinned at her comment but Fudge didn’t look at all pleased to hear their answers.

Another voice thankfully took the subject off of the twins then as they asked. “What are your plans about Grindelwald?” She looked between all three Ministers in attendance.

The German Minister spoke up. “Ve Vill do just as Ve are now. Prepare for battles and protect our people until he is caught. It is all ve can do at this point.” Someone raised a glass at his words, the rest of the table solemnly following suit.

Harry and Rose shared another look, both silently agreeing that this event could not be over any sooner.

On May second at a far more reasonable hour— one thirty in the afternoon in fact— Fleur Weasley, previously Delacour, went into labour and was rushed to St. Mungo’s.

Married to Bill Weasley, the oldest out of the Weasley children, the woman was now ready to give birth to the first of the next generation of Weasleys.

The couple had been staying at the Burrow for the last week or so, with Fleur having an even harder time moving about and Mrs. Weasley was eager to aid her in any way she needed. When it came time to go Mrs. Weasley had hurried her husband and son along all while she helped Fleur get to the Floo. In barely any time at all they were standing in the Floo foyer of St. Mungo’s and Bill and Mrs. Weasley were leading Fleur down the hall, the former calling over her shoulder for her husband to let everyone else know.

So he had.

He made a call to the Delacour’s first off, letting them know Fleur was ready to have the baby much to the family’s enthusiasm. It hadn’t taken them too long to arrive, just over an hour since they had to pick up their daughter from Beauxbatons before coming, and the three of them eagerly sat themselves in the chairs of the waiting room as soon as they stepped through the Floo.

After he let them know he started to call his kids.

First he called Charlie to let him know— he knew his son wouldn't have been able to make the trip out so it felt only right that he be the first to know since he’d be last to see the baby. Then he called Percy— and it was still such a marvel that he could do that that Arthur was incapable of not calling him next. And one by one he called the rest of his children, all of whom promised to be there as soon as they could.

It wasn’t until after four that they could all make it, the last being Percy and Ron (and Hermione) all of whom worked Ministry hours.

“She have the baby yet?”

Arthur smiled at his youngest son’s eager tone and shook his head. “No, we’ve been waiting for almost three hours now but there’s no telling when she’ll give birth.”

Ron and Hermione both sat down on the nearby chairs in the waiting room both— much like everyone else— thrumming with anticipation.

The waiting room thankfully wasn’t very crowded today, about seven other people besides their family scattered about the large area. Arthur imagined if it weren’t for the times they were living in that it would be more packed with those who worried over every little symptom. Now most people were cautious about leaving their homes, fear for their lives outweighing fear over minor illnesses. Emergency only seemed to be the theme in times of war. The reminder almost had Arthur wanting to sigh but he did his best to ignore thoughts on the war for now. His first grandchild would be born today, this was hardly a time for weary thoughts.

It was only another half hour when Bill came out to the waiting room with a bright smile on his face. Arthur stood when he saw him, the others quick to do the same as they watched Bill.

“She’s here,” Bill told them all.

“She?” Ginny gasped happily, a bright smile breaking out on her face.

They hadn’t known what Fleur was going to have, she and Bill wanting it to be a surprise. 

Arthur crossed to Bill and wrapped him in a tight hug that Bill returned heartedly. As soon as he stepped back Fleur's father was there, seizing his son’s face to press a kiss to each of Bill’s cheeks much to Arthur’s amusement.

“Félicitations!” He cried out in a thick accent. 

“Can we zee ‘er now?” Gabrielle— Fleur's younger sister, now thirteen years old— asked with wide eyes.

Bill nodded his head at once. “Of course, I’ll take you guys there.”

The congratulations from the rest of the family could wait for the time being, all of them eager to see the baby first off. Fleur’s room wasn’t that far off from the waiting room and it was a private one— as one would expect. When they got inside Arthur quickly spotted his wife by Fleur’s bedside, teary eyed as she eyed the small bundle in the girl’s arms.

Mr. Delacour crossed to his daughter first off, pressing a kiss to her temple as he murmured to her in French. His wife and youngest daughter were right behind him, the two of them eager to see the baby being cradled by Fleur.

“Is it as hard as Mum always claims?” Ginny asked jokingly, stepping around to stand by her mother as she shot Fleur a warm smile.

Merlin knew it took Arthur’s wife and daughter long to warm up to Fleur but the two have since developed a strong bond with the girl that he knew made his oldest beyond happy.

Percy clapped Bill’s shoulder in a firm hand. “She looks beautiful,” he told him honestly.

“Doesn’t she?” Fleur quickly said as she sent Percy a winning— albeit tired— smile.

“So what was the name you guys picked then?” Ron asked next, Hermione practically bouncing at his side with her own curiosity.

Bill and Fleur had been very cagey about the name they had chosen, telling the family that, like the gender, they’d have to wait until the baby arrived to know. The couple shared a loving glance and Bill told them. “Victoire Gabrielle Weasley.”

Fleur’s sister gave an excited gasp as her eyes darted to her sister. “Gabrielle?”

“Oui, of course,” Fleur said softly.

“What had you choosing the name?” Ginny asked curiously as she leaned in closer to get a better look at the baby. “I mean the Victoire part, of course.”

Fleur adjusted the baby in her arms, affectionately running her fingers along Victoire’s chubby cheeks. “It iz a name wiz confidence and power. She shall be victorious in whatever it iz she wishes to do and we shall be ‘er biggest supporters.”

“Absolutely,” Arthur’s wife was quick to agree with more tears in her eyes.

Soon enough Victoire was being passed to each family member, soft coos and murmured words being offered to her all the while. When they weren’t holding the baby, others were talking to Bill and Fleur with beaming smiles, the atmosphere in the room was light and joyful. Arthur absently pressed a hand to his wife’s back, having moved over to her in all the commotion, and told her he’d be right back.

Nature called.

It was on his way back to his family that he was brought back down to earth from the jubilant air he had been floating on.

“Arthur.”

Head turning instinctively, Arthur wasn’t surprised to see Alastor ‘Mad-eye’ Moody hobbling towards him, the man’s gruff voice almost as distinctive as his general appearance. Moody had taken a lot of hard punches in the First War with You-Know-Who and it clearly showed. With a missing portion of his leg that was now a wooden stump with a clawed foot and a face with so many scars he was just on the right side of passing as human. All that was without taking account of the large chunk of his nose that was missing and his eyes, one small and dark while the other a vivid electric blue magical eye that moved on its own.

“Moody,” Arthur greeted quietly even as his eyes darted to where the man had hobbled from.

Moody apparently caught the look as he tilted his head towards the Emergency Wing. “Jones had a run in with some Death Eaters,” he grumbled. “She’ll be fine in a few days' time.”

That was good to hear, Hestia Jones wasn’t someone Arthur was too familiar with but he heard nothing but good things about her. She was around Bill’s age and he was surprised to learn she was in the Order.

“What brings you here?” Moody asked as his eye began whirling about.

Arthur made a faint gesture to where his family was. “Bill’s wife just had their baby.”

“Congratulations.” Moody said in a gruff voice, had it been anyone else who said it Arthur would feel vaguely insulted but he knew Moody enough by now to know that that was just the way he spoke.

“I should get back to them.”

Arthur hadn’t even made it to steps before Moody was calling to him again and he already knew where this was going. He turned on his heel to look back at the man who he was once prepared to fight beside when You-Know-Who first made his reemergence. 

“We need fighters, Arthur.” Moody told him point blank, never one to beat around the bush. “We need soldiers. Otherwise we don’t stand a chance in this war.”

“You know my stance in this,” Arthur said quietly.

Moody shook his head and hobbled closer. “It wasn’t always this though. What changed? You were ready to fight— so was your entire family.”

“That’s exactly it,” Arthur murmured. “If I’m involved my whole family is and there are just too many of us for all of us to make it out of this war alive. Backing out is our only option.”

It hadn’t always been his choice— honestly backing out likely wouldn't have been an option at all if it hadn’t been for Rose’s deal. He was certain he would have lost at the very least one family member and it would have been a devastating blow for such a family-oriented group like theirs. He had been prepared to fight, grudgingly and with so much dread that it kept him and his wife up late at night, but he had been prepared.

Then Rose came to them. Sweet Rose who tried so hard to act as if nothing affected her— tried so hard to act as if she had never been hurt before when hurt was all she and her brother knew for so long— had come along and given them an out. 

Gave them a guarantee for a lifetime of happy moments like today.

Arthur wasn’t completely naive to think if they’d be completely separated from this war, especially with Grindelwald entering the field, but he did know that they had far better odds than most.

“War isn’t won by people hiding,” Moody told him darkly.

He understood why the man was doing this, and while he was sure the Order garnered quite a few members with recent events they were all likely to be new to the job. Most of the older members were either dead or backed out like Arthur himself. 

Back when Dumbledore was still alive the Order had taken a dive in numbers. Time moving on and You-Know-Who not making any visible movement had people wanting to resume the lives they had been previously living rather than living in a state of constant vigilance. The Weasleys had been the biggest blow though, Arthur knew that. Not just him, his wife and two oldest sons, but the other stubborn four who would have no doubt joined the second they turned seventeen— before that even.

Shaking his head now, his minute flinch at You-Know-Who’s name politely ignored, Arthur said. “It’s won with soldiers. Something my family is not going to be.”

“You think you’ll be safe? That Voldemort won’t target you all? Those twins may not want to be involved but that doesn’t mean Voldemort will just leave them be. Or those that are closest to them.”

Moody’s arguments were rather empty due to all that he didn’t know but Arthur didn’t say as much, only shooting him an apologetic look and turning to leave once more.

“There comes a point where you have to decide between what is easy and what is right,” Moody called behind him, echoing the words Albus Dumbledore said so long ago. While it made him pause in his thoughts it wasn’t enough for him to turn around or even stop, each step he took putting more space between him and Moody and bringing him closer to his still happy family. 

When Arthur turned the corner he had to stop almost immediately and the person he almost ran headlong into jumped back with wide eyes. “Hermione,” Arthur said slowly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

His son’s girlfriend— and long time friend— shook her head, waving off his apology, before her eyes darted to the hall he just came down. Ignoring the obvious question, Arthur said. “I trust you or Ron will let Harry and Rose know about the good news?”

After a beat Hermione swallowed and put a tremulous smile on her face. “Yes! I was just going to do that now.”

She darted around him, thankfully heading in the opposite direction Moody had been, and as she disappeared from view Arthur made the silent note to let his son know about what she had overheard.

He knew from countless talks with Ron that Hermione was struggling greatly over not fighting. Plenty of times now, when things were at their worst with the two Dark Lords, would have her muttering to herself more and more. Arthur couldn’t say for sure what would happen and, while he cared very greatly for the girl, he wouldn’t let his family be pulled into something they didn’t have to be. He just hoped her relationship with his son and friendships with his family and the twins were enough to keep her from doing something she regretted.

But then again— Hermione was widely known as a very ethical person, concerned not with just herself but a wide array of people and creatures, so maybe she wouldn't regret taking her own path.

It was her choice in the end. Just like his family’s choice was their own.

As expected the Malfoy-Greengrass wedding was a thing of grandeur. With the main ceremony taking place in the luxurious garden that was always under the watchful eye of Lady Malfoy and the reception in the Malfoy Manor ballroom. It was a fairytale themed wedding, on the right side of regal and fanciful with added lights and flowers that kept it from appearing gaudy. The general colour scheme was soft and light colours and the ceremony was at twilight which had the whole place alit with an ethereal glow.

All in all it was extravagant in a way that the Malfoy’s were known for.

Rose thought it was a bit much but she supposed most would only have one wedding— why not milk it for what it was worth?

She, Harry and Sirius were all technically here alone, while they were invited by the groom’s family they hadn’t been given plus ones. Not that Sirius would have brought anyone anyways and, as much as their standing with the Malfoy parents were in pretty good shape, it didn’t seem like a good idea for Harry to bring a Weasley to their place. Rose did have a date if one was being technical, in the way of Adrian who had also been invited to the wedding.

“Want to dance?”

The centre floor in the ballroom had been left clear while an assortment of elegantly decorated round tables skirted the edges of it to seat all two hundred guests. The only exception was one long table that seated the wedding party, the newly wedded couple, their parents, both bridesmaids and both groomsmen.

Unsurprisingly Crabbe and Goyle were Malfoy’s two groomsmen, over a decade of shadowing the spoilt boy leading them to their position— and not even their brief purposeful-distancing in their sixth to seventh year at Hogwarts was enough to truly sever the bond the three boys had. Daphne Greengrass had been the Maid of Honour and a girl named Ella Fawley, who apparently was Astoria’s best friend, was the other bridesmaid.

The meal had immediately followed the ceremony once they moved inside and soon followed was the first-dance of the newly married couple. That had been about half an hour ago and Astoria was now dancing with her father while Malfoy was off talking to some people.

Getting congratulations if the handshakes going around were anything to go by.

Rose glanced over at Adrian when he spoke. She and him were currently sitting at a half empty table, Harry speaking to Blaise Zabini at the next one over while Sirius was— as he would say— working the crowd.

She felt her lips pull into an amused smile. “Since when are you interested in dancing?”

Adrian smirked back at her, his dark eyes flickering to the crowds before landing on something in the distance. Rose followed his eyeline and immediately spotted a group of older looking women who were clearly headed their way.

“I’m interested in avoiding conversations,” he offered as he looked back at her with a glint of something in his eyes. She couldn’t help but laugh at that and gave her answer by standing. Adrian was quick to catch her hand, leading her more pointedly to the vast number of pairs currently dancing about. His timing was impeccable as just as they made it to the dancefloor a new song began to fill the room.

With a skillful maneuver Adrian moved their entangled hands into a more proper position and smoothly slid his other behind her back. Rose didn’t hesitate to follow his lead as she wrapped her free hand around his shoulder until her hand was resting just below the nape of his neck.

“I’m mildly surprised you were invited,” Rose commented absently as she went back and forth between studying Adrain and the crowds around them. “I wouldn’t think you and Malfoy would be on familiar enough terms to garner an invite.”

Adrian huffed softly, a ghost of a smile on his face as he moved them with practiced ease. “In Pureblood circles it’s not really about being familiar or even friendly with one another half the time. But in this case my father is on very good terms with Lucius Malfoy which is what got our whole family invited though my brother and his wife declined for more obvious reasons.”

Obvious reasons being they had a two month old at home who they were making a priority at this point in time.

Despite her antisocial nature the majority of the time and her lack of interest in people in general it always fascinated Rose just how Purebloods interacted with one another. It was so in contrast to everything she learned growing up in the Muggle world— in how people interacted with one another— and more often than not resembled the older period movies Petunia used to favour watching.

Courtships. Lords. Ladys. Betrothals.

She wished she was capable of being a fly on the wall in these Pureblood manors and often found herself missing her days at Hogwarts where the snake-like decor had been all too willing to whisper secrets in her ears about the people around them. People acted differently when they knew they were being observed and Rose wanted to see the unpolished side of things— the unspoken parts.

The closest she got though were the snippets Adrian, Marcus and Graham would offer unthinkingly. 

Not that they went out of their way to hide it— if she asked they’d most certainly tell her— but Rose found the questions she wanted answered were the kind that, more often than not, were hard to find the right words to. Things that were instinct after being born and raised in this world

Sirius was another one she liked to learn things from which was a big reason why she wanted to join him and Harry when they were doing their unofficial training for her brother. Despite his teenage desire to distance himself from his Pureblood roots some things were hard to erase and unlearn— and though Sirius was well-known for being a prankster and generally ‘unserious’ he was by far one of the most observant and calculated people Rose knew.

One didn’t pull off as much chaos and anarchy as he did without noticing things.

“You’re surprised to see me here,” Adrian murmured quietly to her, “but I’m more surprised you were invited.”

“Narcissa is big on family. Regardless of Malfoy’s issues with Harry and I, she wanted us here.”

Rose had a lot of respect for Narcissa Malfoy. She was a family-first kind of woman through and through and while her son was one of the most annoying people Rose had ever had the displeasure of meeting, her dedication to both him and Lucius Malfoy was undeniable.

Her dedication to the Black family too. Even Andromeda Tonks being disowned didn’t stop the woman from making sure she was alright and Rose was certain Narcissa would have found ways to pull strings to keep her sister safe had things gone south in any way with her. Then with Bellatrix Lestrange— well her getting locked up in Azkaban didn’t stop Narcissa from filing request after request to visit that sister. She accepted Sirius back with open arms despite the man running away and cutting off all his family members— Narcissa included— back when he was a teenager. Not just that, she had gone out of her way to make sure Sirius knew he was welcomed and did everything she could to make sure he felt okay with reaching out to her.

As someone who dedicated her life to making sure her brother was happy for her entire life— and now Sirius too, the man quick to be added to the list of her admittedly small family— Narcissa's actions were ones Rose thought highly of.

She also liked that Narcissa’s dedication to her family never made her look soft or lesser in any way to those around her. Narcissa Malfoy was a force to be reckoned with, that was a well known fact, even more so when her family was wronged.

Rose glanced up at Adrian and it was only then she processed that a new song was playing. The older man was watching her with a heavy stare that was quickly becoming a familiar one to Rose— one that was patient, observant, intense, and a whole lot of something she couldn’t name.

It might be a selfish thought but Rose never wanted anyone else to be on the receiving end of this look. No one that wasn’t her at least.

“You’ve seemed a lot calmer these days,” Adrian remarked idly to her, his eyes narrowing now as he said it. “Pleased.”

With a sly grin, Rose asked. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

Unbeknownst to Adrian, Rose dealt with a particularly annoying thorn in their sides. Honestly, Rose was surprised it hasn't come up yet but it amused her nonetheless to think of when it one day would.

“I’ve known you for years. The only time you’re this pleased is when something specific goes your way and I know most of your projects are still ongoing, so what is it?”

The sound of the music stopping had Rose smiling and she glanced around at the pairs separating. Pointedly not answering his question she asked. “I think it’s been long enough to call it a night, don’t you?”

Adrian pursed his lips, the familiar look of him seeing he wasn’t going to get his way clear as day, and it had Rose withholding a laugh. Eventually he conceded though, as she knew he would, and curled a hand to press against the middle of her back to urge her in one direction. As they weaved back to the outskirts of the crowd Rose caught Harry’s eye and made a vague gesture that had him nodding and making another back.

Rose understood at once, he’d let Sirius know and would be leaving soon too.

“You want to come back to mine for a bit?” Adrian asked, his attention more focused on getting through the people than anything else. 

She gave her own distracted hum of agreement. It was still rather early, just past eight actually, so she was in no rush to get home. Besides, she liked to hang out at Adrian’s. His apartment was a lot smaller than Grimmauld Place but it was comfortable and familiar. Most of the time they either did their own things just side by side or they talked about anything and everything these days, whether it was their jobs, families, friends, or even the occasional gossip about whatever Purebloods were gossiping about at the time.

“Will you make me some tea?”

Adrian actually laughed at that, finally looking over at her again. “I think that’s expected whenever you come over these days.”

With an eye roll of her own, however amused it was, Rose just made a gesture towards the entrance way to the ballroom. This night wasn’t the worst of nights and it seemed it would end on a good note now. 

Quiet conversation with one of the few people she actually enjoyed being around.

At any given point in time Tom— the Dark Lord— had an assortment of different projects and tasks going on. 

Dealing with missions for his Death Eaters. Sorting through their successes and failures. His job as Thomas Carrington as well as those tasks given to him. Keeping up with the Potter twins and their doings. Keeping track of Grindelwald’s happenings. His most recent research in finding out Grindelwald’s weaknesses and thinking up how exactly he would use the man's obsessive desire for the Elder Wand against him. And— a project he hadn’t anticipated being so focused on— the Deathly Hallows.

The last one had been on his mind ever since Rose Potter brought it up. He remembered Grindelwald’s symbol but thought all along he remembered it because it was the man’s symbol. It wasn’t until a few days later that he realised he also recognised it from one of the old tombs he scoured through in his youth when he had been trying to find proof of his connection to his family line— when he was trying to find what remained of his family.

It had been a disappointing finish due to the pathetic inbred end he found in his grandfather and uncle, but during his search he had come across a family name, one the Gaunts were descendents of— the Peverells.

The Peverell family crest was in fact the Deathly Hallow symbol and from what Tom had been able to dig up the three brothers from long ago were in fact the three brothers from the story. Whether they actually met Death was another story, they could just as easily have been a family that had an aptitude for Necromancy or something along those lines.

He himself was a descendent of the second brother, a long line of names on multiple family tapestries proving just that, but another interesting find was that the Potter twins’ were descendants of the youngest brother. Tom distinctly remembered a conversation with Barty during his year as a spy in Hogwarts, he had mentioned that Potter had an invisibility cloak that was once his father’s.

With proof of the Cloak's apparent existence, and Grindelwald’s— and Dumbledore’s— unyielding belief in the Wand's existence, it stood to reason that the Stone would be real too.

Tom was puzzled over where it could be, something that valuable, a supposed gift from Death itself, wouldn’t be handed off to just anyone.

“My Lord.”

He glanced up and his eyes instantly landed on Lucius’ patient form in the doorway to his office. His hands were behind his back and his expression blank as he waited for a word of what to do next.

“Lucius,” Tom greeted in a low voice, gesturing with a slim hand towards the seat in front of his desk. “Have a seat.”

He watched in silence as Lucius quickly took up one of the chairs in front of his desk. The man was dressed in his Ministry robes, having been ordered to come to the manor as soon as he was done for the day, and Tom spared a brief thought to the meeting Carrington wasn’t required to attend.

“The meeting,” Tom prompted after a beat.

Lucius sat straighter. “It was as we already knew, Cornelius was officially stripped of his title, I imagine it will be on the cover of the Daily Prophet tomorrow.”

It was as Tom had suspected. Everyone knew Fudge was on borrowed time, the man had ranted about it under his breath worriedly since Grindelwald first made his move. As time moved on he trusted Tom less and less with his confidence, the praising words and whispered comments of him one day being Minister likely leaving the spineless man untrusting of him even with Lucius’ reassurances.

It apparently did not help that Tom had waved off any urging to become Minister of Magic one day whenever it was brought up, always citing he was happy with his current position. Being the Undersecretary was a favourable position indeed. Close enough to the top that he was able to hear pertinent information but not so high that it drew unwanted attention.

“I have decided against our previous plan,” Tom murmured quietly, thumb brushing the band of his ring absently. 

The plan had been to insert Pius Thicknesse into the position of Minister, the man a perfect puppet for them to use. But if the last few years had taught him anything it was that it mattered very little who was in the Minister's seat, Tom would get what he wanted in the end.

“Amelia Bones will likely become Minister of Magic then,” Lucius readily informed him. “Though Rufus Scrimgeour will most certainly give her a run for her money.”

Tom nodded silently, Bones wasn’t a worry anyways. The woman thought highly of Carrington and a lot of the things he had pushed forward she had been in complete support for. If it came down to it he’d remove her if she got to be more trouble than she was worth.

As for Scrimgeour, Tom had plenty of followers who would be more than eager to take him out should he actually become Minister of Magic.

“How is the list for the Litha markings looking?”

Lucius was as quick to respond as ever, his words precise and to the point. “As of now we have nineteen people ready to take the Mark, all of whom have been vouched for by at least three families and four of them are from neighbouring countries. One from France, one from Greece, and two from Italy.”

“Good,” Tom murmured lowly as he thought the numbers over. He’d pair his most loyal with the newer recruits from out of the country and start demanding weekly reports with such a high number of joiners. Not since the height of the last war had he had so many ready for the Mark at once.

“There is something else, my Lord.”

His eyes darted up to Lucius when the man spoke up, his voice hesitant in a way that almost no one would notice. He watched him in silence, not needing to speak for the man to understand.

“It seems word has spread about what Cornelius brought up during the Beltane Banquet.” Lucius told him quietly. “That being the Prophecy. He has apparently gone as far as to recite the entire thing to a select few and you know how well secrets are kept with some Purebloods.”

It puzzled Tom for a brief second— his information said only those who were the subject of a prophecy or those who were there when it was foretold could hear its details— but then he remembered. As Minister of Magic Fudge had a certain allowance for a great deal of things, allowances the fool took little proper use of in his tenure, though he apparently has decided to do so now with his job coming to an end.

Regardless, Tom waved a dismissive hand. “That’s irrelevant. The Potter twins are staying out of this war, even if they had a change of heart the contract that was drawn up is ironclad.”

Lucius nodded his head loyally, no doubt on his face for Tom to see.

“You may go, Lucius, from what I recall your heir should be back from his vacation today, should he not?”

“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius murmured, rising at once. “He should be back by three. Narcissa is most eager to see him again.”

The lengths the Malfoy Lord and Lady went to coddling their heir always brought forth a wave of faint contempt in Tom. The boy clearly needed to be left to stand on his own a long time ago but here he was, only gone for a week and a half, and both parents were already impatient to see him once more.

It was hardly his business in the end, he thought as he watched Lucius stride out of the room.

He had been left alone in his office for a little over an hour, letting his thoughts swarm him, when something suddenly struck Tom between one thought and the next. He had been staring at his own hand that had been mindlessly fiddling with a quill and— his ring.

The ring he had stolen from his uncle after framing him for the murder of his Muggle father and grandparents. Tom sat up, dropping the quill and lifting the ring up to his direct view. From afar it looked simple enough, a black stone nestled on a gold band and, in the right light, the Peverell coat of arms.

The symbol of the Deathly Hallows.

He removed the ring, feeling along the edges until a careful click sounded and the Stone fell free. He didn’t dare use it, remembering The Tale of the Three Brothers clearly and the deliberate movements needed to activate the Stone.

Tom didn’t doubt it would work, he could feel a heavy wave of something over him even holding the thing.

He was many things, had done many things to achieve the immortality he so long desired, and— ignoring the years he lost his way due to just this— he was now far more clear headed than he had ever been. Decades of experience shaping his choices. It was said that whoever gathered all three of these ‘Hallows’ would become the Master of Death— and Tom had no desire what-so-ever for that to be him. He didn't survive this long and achieve this much by actively seeking out Death for whatever reason.

But just because he had no desire to achieve this goal, if it could even be achieved, didn’t mean he wasn’t curious... 

If he was right, and he always was, then Rose Potter was currently the Master of two of the Deathly Hallows, unbelieving to this fact she may be. All the girl needed was the Stone. And as Tom stared at the innocuous looking black stone in his palm he thought to himself that he was the last person who would want to call any supposed loved ones from beyond the grave— which meant he had no issue in seeing the Stone leave the Gaunt name in the dust.

Perhaps it would be better left in the care of someone who was already familiar with its two counterparts. Not that Tom would tell the girl this when he gave it to her of course, best not leave the choice up to her. 

If the story was true— if Harry Potter’s theories were correct— then Rose Potter would soon become the Master of Death, however unknowingly so.

Chapter Text

Listen. Rose, in general, hated going to big events. A bunch of random people crammed into a— while spacious, but— crowded room and dealing with hours of inane small talk… It was tiresome. The one exception she’s found was when something interesting was thrown into the mix.

This evening's interesting twist? The fact that it was a German Ministry party being held in one of the largest and oldest castles in the country.

During the Beltane feast that the British Ministry of Magic held the German Minister had taken a liking to Rose, Harry and Sirius. He seemed to easily read their steadfast refusal to get involved in the Ministry’s upcoming battle and unlike the borderline affronted stand Fudge— now no longer a Minister of Magic— had been taking, the German Minister seemed more amused.

With everything going on it was not uncommon for the neighbouring countries' Ministers to be moving about and the steadily increasing guidelines for international travel— for the odd high ranking officials; Ministers, Head of DMLE’s, and the Chief Warlocks— were far less strict.

And since Sirius and Harry were still doing their thing— Lordly duties and all— plus Rose working in the Ministry too, it was not a rare thing for them to bump into the man.

The man’s name was Leopold Haas and he looked to be a good twenty years older than Sirius at best— putting him in his late fifties or early sixties. Rose’s initial impression on the man— that being he looked friendly in a rather intimidating kind of way— proved to be true. His facial expressions were always stern, his mouth pulled into a constant frown with the weight of his mustache, but once he started to speak it was clear to see why he was so well liked, his overall air friendly but not to be crossed.

He reminded Rose vaguely of Hagrid, only a lot shorter and if Hagrid had been more Slytherin like.

Haas had been all too eager to invite them to this party, one that consisted mostly of German born wizards, but there were a handful of international guests invited to attend. Apparently this evening was a tradition in the country, or at least in Berlin, with the second of June marking the day the German Ministry of Magic was first officially set up, at least the one that was still running to this day. Merlin knew there were plenty of empires taking over various countries since the beginning of time. Kings and Queens and various families long forgotten.

But for the official Ministry of Germany, much like their own British one, it was now the five hundredth year since their establishment began.

Hence the rather overzealous celebration.

The castle itself was grand. Their invitations had come with a Portkey and they had been dumped out about a hundred feet from the entrance way. Rose wondered if it was done purposefully so the guests could see the place in all its glory.

She bet it was.

Unlike Hogwarts in its regal and warm stature, the castle they were at was dark and narrow in many places. The evening light casting shadows across it and making it look sharp and deadly in an appealing kind of way. It reminded Rose vaguely of the Duomo Di Milano, a famous church she, Harry and Sirius had visited in Italy. Only this place was much taller and had an obviously darker colour scheme, plus various statues of magical creatures decorating its exterior. The inside felt a lot grander than Hogwarts too, at least the main entrance way they first stepped into did, though a lot more empty as well. With high ceilings that could barely be seen from down below and well placed windows that had the place feeling even bigger somehow.

“We have to check in.”

Rose glanced over at Sirius when he spoke, as did Harry, and their godfather jerked his chin in the direction of a small group of security guards standing in front of the entrance way that would lead them further into the castle. There were a few people ahead of them and a quick look over her shoulder told Rose there were still more to come. 

She and Harry were quick to fall in line with Sirius and Harry continued to eye their surroundings curiously.

“They’re going to be taking our wands,” Sirius informed them both in a murmur and both twins raised a brow. 

Rose wasn’t overly surprised, especially given the times they were in now, but it still made her a bit anxious to think of giving up her wand. She had hoped it would be more like the British Ministry of Magic where they simply tagged your wand and gave it back to you. She wouldn’t spare too much dread about it though— she didn’t necessarily need a wand to do magic but it was a lot more comfortable with one.

The party had to have at least two hundred people, if not more, which was not including whoever else still had to arrive. Sirius didn’t want them to be late or anything so there was still a good half hour of appropriate arrival time left for any more guests.

Everyone was dressed in their best and there were numerous languages being spoken all around them and Rose tried to identify as much as she could. German, French and Italian the most obvious to her, what she thought was Norwegian and Greek, and a few others she wasn’t as familiar with.

“So do we just do the same as we would at British parties or are the rules different here?” Harry asked Sirius quietly as the three of them paused to take in the room.

There was a ginormous candle chandelier hanging high above the centre of the room and floating candles readily offered more light through the ceiling area. There wasn’t a band playing music but rather an assortment of instruments that were moving on their own on their right, sending a rather grand tune through the room.

No one was dancing or anything, which Rose thought was expected really, this gathering was not what she’d imagined to be a dancing type but rather a social type.

Lucky her.

Sirius shot Harry a faint smile. “Rules are pretty much the same. Be respectful, engage in conversation— that means you, Rosie, these crowds might not know of your not talking habit and might take offence— and don’t mingle too long.”

She was hard pressed not to scowl at Sirius’s words but she couldn’t deny the truth in them. It wasn’t like before where she genuinely didn’t want to speak, the words sealing themselves behind her teeth with a vicious ferocity, it was much more of a choice now.  Still she could be brief as she’d like— if someone of importance looked too put out about it she’d make an effort but Rose didn’t generally care if most got offended.

Sirius was right, everything was pretty much the same as back home. They would offer the expected introductions, some small talk about whatever it was the other person would offer— since Harry and Rose both didn’t really have anything in mind to discuss— before splitting off once more. There was the odd time that someone would have to translate for those who only spoke just the one language but there were so many people that there was almost never any circumstances where conversations were impossible.

Harry was finding the whole thing tiring and boring already from what Rose could read on his face and she didn’t see it getting any better as a man who introduced himself as the Head of Germany’s International Magical Office of Law struck up a conversation.

He seemed like a rather boastful man, his chest puffed out and his accent not nearly as thick as some of the others they’ve spoken to. His robes were rather typical for the evening, his hair pulled back into a braid and his round face clear to see with a mustache that was wispy and lips that were thin and dry.

“Why exactly was this castle picked for the event?” Harry asked at one point, his eyes darting around curiously once more. “Because it’s one of the oldest?”

The guy— Rose could not remember what name he gave when he first introduced himself considering he put more emphasis on his title— seemed to perk up even more so at the question.

“This castle was once home to a king who was cursed by a mysterious being almost eight hundred years ago.” He readily informed them in an authoritative voice, drawing the eyes of a couple of people around them, their group growing to a small circle of seven now. “His family was once the most noble and respected in the magical community, until the curse that is, then one after another they all died leaving the youngest son to inherit the throne. He refused to wed or sire children, citing that the curse would die with him as the last of the family line.”

Rose just knew Harry’s attention was now sufficiently captured and sure enough her brother asked. “What was the mysterious being? Did anyone ever see it again?”

“The family did not know what it was, according to legend,” the man replied while those around him exchanged glances.

“That’s not true.”

Rose glanced over as another voice spoke up, this one a man younger looking than the first guy but a good few decades older than Sirius no doubt. He wasn’t the tallest of men and he had a distinct looking beard that was speckled with grey like the hair on his head. His robes were well made and his expression rather frank.

When the pompous guy shot him a look he powered on undeterred. “The family wanted to strike a deal with the being. The final king's father— back when he was the king— was a man of greed and longed for more power so he delved in the darkest of magic, calling upon some higher being to answer his wishes.”

Oh, Harry was probably having the time of his life now. All this mystery and urban legends. She’d probably never be able to slip away from this conversation now.

“You can’t know that,” a woman said to the second man, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun.

The man glanced at her and waved a hand towards their surroundings. “My family were caretakers in the castle when the family still lived and thrived.” He informed them all in a sure tone. “My many-times-great grandfather was dismissed when it came down to the last of them but he passed on the tale of the family's story to his son and his son after him.”

It was then the Germany Ministry Official spoke up again, his tone borderline affronted. “Rubbish! That is based on nothing but rumours and the continued exaggeration of its storytellers over time. History says they were a respectable family and wouldn’t dare delve into such things.”

It seemed he didn’t want to waste any time defending said royal family any longer as he took his leave then and the silence that followed was slightly awkward. 

Never to let something go though, Harry glanced at the man whose family were once caretakers of the castle. “Did your relatives ever know exactly what the being was?”

The other people that were in their group had slowly dispersed when the first man left but Harry and Rose stayed where they were. The former because he wanted more answers, the latter because she wasn’t quite ready to be on her own yet.

“No,” the guy told Harry quietly. “But they said that the royal family was not the first to try and strike a deal with it. It was said that plenty have tried and failed— sometimes the being would seek others out itself simply to trick them.”

Thankfully he left after those parting words— Merlin knew Harry would never leave first— and Harry glanced over at her with an excited look in his eyes.

“We’re not doing this now,” Rose said first off, practically seeing the desire to question this mystery more brimming in Harry’s eyes.

With a huff and a faint grin, Harry relented. “Fine. Let’s go find someone else to talk to.”

The conversations went back to the same boring small talk after that and Rose never thought she’d miss the talk surrounding the history of the castle. Predictably Harry asked about the castle here and there but it seemed no one else knew the history of the place they were in, most just saying that it was one of the oldest castles around while the odd one here and there repeated that it belonged to a well-respected royal family that died out centuries ago. She eventually drew the line of conversations she was willing to put up with when Harry ran into Victor Krum. The man was a rather famous Quidditch star— Harry had competed with him during the Triwizard Tournament during their fourth year at Hogwarts— and the sport was all they could talk about.

Which was why she split off then, leaving her brother in the company of Quidditch obsessed people as she ventured into her own idle conversations here and there.

When they had arrived they were made aware that they could roam the castle but people apparently either didn’t want to climb all the staircases or attempted to find their way through the maze that was the castle as it seemed everyone was in the main hall. Rose had noticed the odd group here and there leaving through the elaborate archway but those had stopped off too as the evening wore on. Now she decided she’d take the time to go look around, half not wanting to do so with Harry as she’d doubt she’d be able to get him to leave.

He’d want to scour every room for any kind of clue to what exactly happened in this castle— determinedly ignoring that it was something that happened eight hundred years ago.

The halls weren’t nearly as well lit as where the party was being held, the floating lights casting shadows all around her, but Rose could find her way easily enough. Her footsteps seemed to echo around her and she glanced into any open doorways as she passed. She was surprised to see that the castle— with the exception of the main floor where the party was— was left exactly as it was centuries ago. A thick layer of dust and cobwebs covered the few bedrooms she passed and there was one room that had a meal laid out, moldy and inedible.  

Her mind went back to the supposed curse and Rose thought maybe— even if it wasn’t true— those who lived nearby greatly believed in it regardless. So much so that all of them refused to enter the castle or even attempt to claim in for themselves.

It was a nice place, an extravagant place, she couldn’t imagine it remaining vacant for so long, especially if all those who once owned it had died. Or maybe the Germany Ministry had simply claimed it when they officially started up and banned anyone from entering or changing anything about it. Wanting to preserve the history of the great castle to an almost pathological degree.

It brought to mind the broken down house in Godric’s Hollow, frozen in time as a monument to what happened so long ago.

Rose sighed as she stepped out onto a balcony, eyeing the ivy that was crawling up the walls as she stepped towards the railing. She trailed her fingers along the cold stone and her eyes flickered up to the night sky, the stars shining so bright with the castle isolated from any artificial light.

“Are the crowds not to your liking?”

Head jerking behind her, Rose felt herself freeze as she spotted the man who had spoken.

Gellert Grindelwald looked well all things considered. He was dressed in nice robes and had a calculating look in his eye. She couldn’t help but notice that despite his advanced age he didn’t wear it quite like Albus Dumbledore had. That man had always maintained a rather grandfatherly air about him, even when he was being downright sketchy in Rose’s opinion, but Grindelwald had a foreign and maybe unconventionally attractive appearance. It was that fact that probably aided him in swaying so many people to his cause— alongside the obvious power he wielded. 

His skin was warm in colour, cheekbones high and defined, and lips thin. He stalked towards her on slow but sure footsteps, closing the distance between them like a lion did so to its prey. “I have been wanting to meet you,” Grindelwald said quietly. “You and your brother. The famous Potter twins Albus bet all his Galleons on, right up until his dying day.” 

He finally stopped moving, right next to her on the balcony now and she didn’t dare move her eyes away from him. Rose absently noted his eyes, a pale blue colour that looked as cold as ice. The man glanced around, as though he was simply taking in the sights around them. “Albus must have been so disappointed when you arrived in the magical world,” he offered in a casual murmur. “So far from when he wanted you to be.”

His accent was rather distinct. It wasn’t quite British but it wasn’t quite German either like Rose would have thought. It was some mix of the two and it made his words sound regal and incontestable.

“Did you miss him?” Rose asked quietly. “Even while you were locked up in Nurmengard? I can’t imagine Dumbledore visiting—”

She was cut off by a rough hand grabbing her jaw and Grindelwald’s expression grew sharp. When he spoke his words were biting and more of a demand than anything else. “Tell me about the last day Albus was alive.”

Raising a brow, Rose asked. “Why would you ask me?”

“Let us say not all of this ‘new’ Dark Lord’s inner circle is so loyal to the man,” Grindelwald told her with a dark smirk on his face, releasing his hold on her jaw at the same time. “Impatience and promise of something more is a powerful motivator for many.” 

He stepped closer to her and Rose instinctively backed away from him. It was only then did she notice the wand in his hand. Dumbledore’s wand. The wand Harry thought was the Elder Wand.

“Paint me a picture,” Grindelwald murmured as his eyes met her own and Rose felt her heart stutter in her chest as their surroundings grew hazy. “Of the night of your last conversation with Albus Dumbledore.”

It was as if it was pulled straight from her memories. The rocky shore where Tom’s locket was supposed to have been hidden appeared all around her, the castle she was just standing in disappearing from view in the haze.  

Rose stubbornly refused to show the fear that was quickly seeping through her veins. If this were almost any other person the fact that she had no wand would be a mild deterrent but not a completely hopeless situation. But this wasn’t any other person, this was Gellert Grindelwald— with a wand. Not just any wand but a wand her brother believed to be more powerful than any normal one. It wasn’t until that very second that Rose realised just how much she believed her brother’s theory as hard as she tried not to.

“I knew Dumbledore didn’t have long,” Rose bit out, her jaw jutting forward as she spoke and a lump lingering in her throat. “With the curse that was eating away at him and his adventure he took my brother on. I wanted to speak to him and when I did he was— off. He was seeing things that weren’t there. My brother left first so I could talk to him alone.”

As she spoke the mirage around them seemed to move about and soon a wet and sodden Dumbledore stumbled into view, leaning heavily against the rocks.

Grindelwald moved towards the image. “Why did you want to speak with him?”

“I wanted him to know that despite his manipulations he couldn’t tear me and my brother apart,” Rose told him outright as she stepped back some more until her back hit what must’ve been the castle wall even if she couldn’t see it. “I wanted him to know that all his preachings about the greater good and what was right, wouldn’t come between me and Harry.”

She swallowed as she watched Grindelwald continue to stare at where Dumbledore was reaching to a vacant spot just out of reach. Rose dug into the pocket of her robes at his distraction, pulling out something that she quickly held behind her back.

“He was going for his wand but I wasn’t finished so I disarmed him the second he reached it,” she told him, smart enough to know Grindelwald likely already knew that fact and not wanting him to start thinking maybe it was Harry who disarmed him. 

Rose was going to make sure this man wouldn’t start directly targeting her brother. Would do so even if she hadn’t disarmed Dumbledore.

As soon as she spoke the part of the wand Grindelwald looked over at her, still crouched in front of where Dumbledore was laying, and stood swiftly. “What did you have to tell him?”

“I told him how I knew the two of you originally started off together. How you both wanted to enslave the Muggles and rule over them as one.” Rose gritted her teeth as the man approached her once more. “I told him how I knew that Albus Dumbledore was in love with Gellert Grindelwald. How that very love led to him killing his own sister.”

Grindelwald was back in front of her now, a dark look on his face that was equal parts calculating and amused.

“How— despite everything he’s done and all the loved ones he took from people— Dumbledore still couldn't see the man he loved dead. Which was likely the only reason he was locked up instead of being given the Kiss ten times over.”

The man didn’t look at all affected by her words as he reached out, dragging the edge of his wand from her temple to her jawline. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Rose licked her lips anxiously. “Despite his flaws my brother still thought highly of Dumbledore. It would have upset him to know the truth.”

Now Grindelwald let out a mocking laugh. “So much heart in you, isn’t there?” He questioned, his accent growing thicker for a moment.

She bared her teeth at him, her hand tightening around the hilt of a blade, and she silently thanked Adrian for his seemingly unconventional gift. “Yes. There is.” Rose spat out before she brought up her hand and swiped it roughly at the man’s face.

Grindelwald reacted in time to avoid serious injury but a quickly bleeding cut appeared on the arch of his cheekbone, small and unlikely to scar had it been a normal blade to make it.

Rose pushed her magic out all at once, with as much force as she could muster, before running in the direction she last knew the doorway to be. The mirage dispelled as she ran and just as she turned the corner a spell came blasting after her, sending parts of the opposite wall flying everywhere. She determinedly didn’t let that stop her as she lifted her free hand up in the air and curled it into a fist. Rose pulled it down roughly and the stone ceiling that was just above her came crumbling down, barricading the area between her and Grindelwald.

She could hear his enraged yell as clear as day and Rose was quick to leave it behind her. Despite that, it didn’t take long before she ran into more trouble as she turned a corner and crossed paths with what could only be Grindelwald’s men.

Wands were raised but Rose flung her hand outwards— a move she only had to do once before against Crabbe and Goyle at the start of her sixth year— and two of them went flying. Silently Rose sent a spell at one of the other ones and dodged another sent by the remaining man. She spared half a thought while fighting that these men must have put up silencing wards of some kind if no one had come to check out the noise. The rounds of spells sent flying about had pieces of the castle walls breaking off and Rose couldn’t help but think that this castle survived eight hundred years without so much damage and now—

A rough hand grabbed her from behind and Rose spun around, twisting her body as she aimed a sharp kick at the guy's shin. With a grunt he dropped to his knees and Rose didn’t hesitate to get her hand under his chin and silently let off a blasting curse. She felt the man's blood splash up at her face, warm and wet as it clung to her, already dripping down her neck. Rose threw the man’s body down and booked it down the hall, the thundering of footsteps following behind her, and she didn’t stop until she reached the main hall once more.

No one paid her much mind at first but then spells started flying in her direction and chaos erupted. Grindelwald finally came into view once more and he didn’t hesitate to shout something in German. 

“Das Mädchen gehört mir! Tötet den Rest!”

Rose didn’t know what he was saying but she imagined it wasn’t anything pleasant based on what followed.

The guests immediately started screaming, shouts for help and orders to run ringing out amongst all the noise. Rose didn’t let it distract her though as she searched for her brother and Sirius, ducking between the people and pushing through others.

“Rosie!” 

A hand grabbed hold of her arm and Rose let out a relieved breath when she saw not just Sirius but Harry too, both of them staring at her with wide and concerned eyes. The sound of clattering somehow managed to reach their ears amongst all the noise and Rose’s head turned in time to see one of the guards from earlier dumping the wands out onto the ground.  It didn’t take long for the wands to start being summoned by their owners and Rose wasted no time in calling her own, Sirius and Harry doing the same beside her. 

“Pull down the wards!” A frightened voice called out, referring to the wards that were keeping everyone from Apparating out.

The following fight was made all the more difficult by the crowds around them and more than once Rose almost tripped over someone’s body. Her ribs were aching from a spell that managed to nip her and she could see her brother limping.

A quick glance at Sirius showed him favouring his left arm and Rose shouted. “We need to leave!”

As if one cue another voice shouted. “They’re down!”

Sirius grabbed hold of both the twins and between one blink and the next they were somewhere else entirely. The sudden silence was something they couldn’t fully enjoy before Sirius was sending them somewhere new and it went on for a few more jumps until finally they were in front of Grimmauld Place.

“Why did we do it so many times?” Harry groaned as Rose held on tightly to his arm to keep him upright.

She quickly scanned him for any serious injuries. “So they can’t track us,” she murmured to him.

Sirius didn’t waste time with their words as he ushered them inside, visibly relaxing once they were behind the wards of Grimmauld Place. They weren’t in the foyer for long before Harry was turning to Rose. 

“What happened?”

Rose absently wiped at her face, the liquid still on her face smearing in the process, not that she noticed. “Grindelwald definitely believes I’m the Master of the Elder Wand,” Rose informed them both quietly. She didn’t wait for a response as she started moving up the stairs to the main parlour, Harry and Sirius quickly followed behind her. “How secure is Grimmauld Place?” Rose asked as she climbed the stairs.

Sirius answered at once. “It’s got some of the best wards in the country. It’s locked as tight as Hogwarts.”

“Grindelwald got into Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts has loopholes around their wards. Grimmauld Place doesn’t.”

As they reached the main parlour Rose nodded in understanding and headed straight to the Floo.

Harry frowned. “Where are you going?”

Rose glanced back over at them. “I just have to have a conversation with someone then I’ll explain everything that happened.” She waited long enough for them to nod in agreement before she disappeared in a rush of flames.

The room she stepped into wasn’t one she had ever actually been in before but she’s known the location to for a while now. Any other time she’d probably feel a lot more keen to take in the dark decor with a more critical eye but now wasn’t the time.

“Good evening, Heir Black.”

Rose eyed Barty Crouch Jr. with a critical eye, the man free of his alternate identity and bearing his real face, and just said. “I need to speak with him.”

It was with a hearty wave of his hand that Barty encouraged her to follow him. Their trek to wherever Tom was was entirely silently barring the muffled sound of their footsteps on the intricate rug underneath them.

The room— or perhaps office was the better word— Rose was taken to was far from empty when they arrived. Barty hadn’t hesitated to open the door to let them in and Rose was quick to spot Tom seated behind a desk with Malfoy and Snape hovering nearby, clearly in the middle of a conversation. Rose pushed her way inside, firmly ignoring her guide now, and Tom glanced up at her before he raised a brow.

“Leave us.”

Barty, still at the door when Tom barked the order, was the first to leave but Malfoy and Snape were quick to follow. It was the former of those two that made an absent gesture to his own face that had Rose realising that she was still covered in blood.

She stepped closer to Tom’s desk, vanishing the blood with a quick motion, and didn’t spare either of the two chairs in front of it a passing glance. “You have a rat in your inner circle,” she told him outright.

Tom sat up straighter. “What makes you say this?”

“Because the only people who knew I was the last to speak with Dumbledore were me, Harry, Snape and you. I assume you told your inner circle a bit about it.” Rose watched as Tom tilted his head in concession to that and she had to smother the bit of irritation that built up in her chest. “Grindelwald spoke with me. According to him not all of your inner circle is all that loyal. He knew I was with Dumbledore that night and less than half an hour ago he attacked me at a German Ministry party.” Tom’s eyes began to track her for injury but Rose wasn’t concerned at that. “I know you will protect me and Harry but you also agreed to protect those on my list,” she reminded him firmly.

“I’ll do just that,” Tom promised at once. “I’ll have those I know I can trust put up wards around the Weasley home—”

Rose cut in sharply. “They’re not all there. Fred and George are in Hogsmeade. Ron and Hermione—”

“Give me a list of where they all live and I’ll set it up,” Tom cut in right back.

She let out a breath at the words, nodding her head slowly as she felt relief encompass her. It wasn’t a guarantee of safety by any means but at least they’d all be safer than they were now.

“How safe is your family home?” Tom asked her next as he watched her carefully. 

Rose made a vague gesture. “Safest around according to Sirius.”

A silent nod was the only reply she got and Rose felt the tension continue to bleed out of her shoulders and with it clarity returned to her. “I have to go back. I left Harry and Sirius in a lot of confusion.”

Merlin, she was grateful they could be so understanding to her at times thoughtless nature. Patient in the fact that she’d give them answers when she got her head back on right.

“Barty!”

The man must have been waiting outside because it didn’t take long for him to open the door once more. He shot Tom a ready look and the man ordered. “Send Rodolphus and Rabastan in.”

Rose took that as her cue to leave, moving back towards the door and silently following Barty back to where the Floo was. She was more of the mind to take in the decor and couldn’t help but notice the various snakes incorporated in the halls and she resisted smiling as she realised how similar the things likely were to the ones in Hogwarts.

“You must be quite persuasive if you have our Lord getting Rudy and Basty to put up wards,” Barty said cheerfully.

Her eyes darted to the back of his head and she didn’t have to see his face to know he was grinning. “What makes you think that’s what they’re doing?” She asked as they arrived at what was the manors entrance, the Floo standing there ready to go.

“They’re very skilled at wards and their other main skill lies in ‘information extraction' and if that was what our Lord wanted then me or Bella would be joining them. Since it’s just the two of them that must mean he’s planning to have them set up wards for protection.”

Rose silently tossed Floo powder into the flames as Barty stepped to the side— not even taking note of the whoosh of the fire rising up. “That just goes to show you,” she said as she glanced back at him. “Anyone can be blackmailed.”

The man’s answering cackle followed her as she stepped on through and she could still hear it ringing in her ears as she landed in their Floo room, both Harry and Sirius sitting on the couches and looking up at her expectantly.

“Alright, here’s what happened.”

Our Prophetic Saviours?

Despite the most recent events, news of Grindelwald’s attack did not make the front page of the Daily Prophet. It could be due to it happening over in Germany rather than Britain but it could also be due to the Daily Prophet deciding on what they thought was a better story. That better story was handed down the line to them from Fudge’s blabbering mouth in regards to the contents of the Prophecy.

Rose foolishly believed that that infuriating thing was done being involved in their lives but Fudge— attempting to salvage his already blundering reputation— spilled the beans like it was helping in some way. The entire contents of the Prophecy were plastered on the front page of the Daily Prophet and Rose was already anticipating the headache she would have from all the stares she and Harry were likely to get now. She just hoped her brother would be able to shoulder all this better than he had in their fourth year.

People would have comments, scathing and hateful no doubt, once they learnt that neither twin planned on getting involved in the war. Would likely claim they were abandoning them or hiding or whatever else they could think of.

She wouldn’t care but Harry might.

Now Harry has come a long way from fourth year. A long way from the days when the opinions of even strangers could weigh on him heavily but Rose knew there were still moments where it would bother him. Rose was still half waiting for Hermione to say something to him about fighting that would have him stewing in guilt for a while. She just hoped the fact that Ron supported what they were doing would soften the feeling even slightly.

“Mistress Black has a guest.”

It was a message that immediately followed a muffled crack and both twins glanced at Kreacher as he appeared and just as quickly disappeared.

Pushing herself to a stand, leaving behind her half finished breakfast and the open page of the Daily Prophet with ease. Harry, who she had been eating with, quickly followed her. She let out a huff as she started climbing the stairs. “He said I had a guest,” Rose reminded him pointedly.

Harry remained steadfast in his journey behind her. “We don’t really do unplanned visits. I’m curious. Sue me.”

Rolling her eyes Rose didn’t offer any other comments the rest of their trip to the Floo room. To her mild surprise it was Adrian waiting for her. It wasn’t as though he were an unfamiliar sight here— these days he was by far their most frequent visitor— but he didn’t usually show up unannounced.

“Hi,” Rose greeted easily enough, narrowing her eyes at him. Adrian turned from where he had been eyeing a small figurine on the shelf nearby and smiled faintly, more of a smirk than anything. “What’s the occasion?”

“I can’t just stop by?” Adrian countered and Rose was absently aware of Harry plopping down on the couch. 

One would think he’d leave now that he got an answer but apparently just who was visiting wasn’t enough, he wanted to know why. Rose should be less fondly amused by that really. Before she could question the man any more the Floo flared up again and this time Sirius was the one stepping on through.

“Rosie!” He said as soon as he spotted her, giving Adrian and Harry brief nods of acknowledgment. “Just the girl I was looking for.”

“What for?”

He shook his head. “No idea. I was asked to come to the Ministry with you, by Amelia, as soon as we were available. So let’s go.”

Adrian didn’t look entirely surprised at that fact and Rose was starting to connect what exactly this was about. Instead of feeling worried or nervous it only had her pleasantly amused.

“Alright,” she said in reply to Sirius and shot Adrian a questioning look.

He gestured towards the couches where Harry was still sitting. “I’ll wait here with your brother,” he offered, eyes darting to the clock on the wall. “Can’t say for sure I’ll be here when you get back though.”

Rose smiled. “I can’t imagine we’ll take that long.”

She gave Sirius a nudge back towards the Floo and he shot her a mildly suspicious look but moved along nonetheless. 

Given it was just before ten the place wasn’t terribly packed, most employees either in their offices or getting the start of their day ready. Rose was happy with this fact, she didn’t like having to push her way through crowds or deal with the sweaty smell of the less-hygienic people.

It wasn’t until they were walking down the hall that would lead to Amelia Bones’ office that Sirius murmured. “Do you know what this is about?”

“Not sure,” she replied back in the same tone, well aware that Sirius didn’t believe her— not that he should.

When they arrived at the office it was with a group of people already gathered inside. Amelia Bones’ office was the one for the Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement and it was a job that she had earned no doubt about it. 

From what Rose heard she was currently the front runner for the next Minister of Magic now that Fudge had been canned. The person who was close to her in the running was apparently one Rufus Scrimgeour. Rose didn’t know the man that much but Sirius described him as a very politically inclined Gryffindor which was enough to have her dislike him. Whoever won would be sworn in in just five days on the tenth of June. This particular election ran at a much faster pace given the times they were currently in.

Alongside Bones was the German Minister of Magic and a man Rose knew to be his Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement, two Aurors she remembered to be Shacklebolt and Dawlish and…

Katrina Meier— plus who Rose assumed were her parents.

“Lord Black, thank you for coming,” Bones said at once, reaching out to give him a firm handshake and a nod to Rose. “You of course remember the Minister Haas,” she said as she gestured to the German Minister then towards the man beside him. “And his Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Varick Schwarz.” It was only then that she gestured to the two people beside Meier who were incredibly well groomed, dressed in robes that screamed money and rather cold-looking facades on their faces. “This is Lord and Lady Meier of Germany.” 

The man had dark hair, his face clean shaven and his eyes a cold blue that bordered on silver while his wife had golden blonde hair and the same deep brown eyes her daughter had.

“How are you two feeling?” Haas asked them both, eyeing them with a critical eye. He had obviously been at the party the other night and he didn’t look as though he had been harmed in any lasting way.

“We’re fine,” Sirius assured him evenly before glancing around at them all and cutting to the case. “Why are we here exactly?”

Bones cleared her throat and her eyes flickered to the Meier family. “The Meier heir is looking to file charges against your daughter,” she said, her voice deliberately professional in a way that had Rose wanting to smile.

“On what grounds?” Sirius demanded with a fierce look on his face.

“She has yet to specify,” Bones told him, looking at the family expectantly. 

Haas straightened his stance and said. “I’m sure ve can resolve this issue vithout the need of pressing charges. Lord Meier is a valued member of the German community.”

Yeah and the Black’s were seen as valued members of the British community, it didn’t erase the fact that the majority of them were underhanded and at times cruel.

Sirius seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Rose as he smiled coldly. “What exactly does your daughter have against my daughter?” He asked Lord Meier directly.

The man hardly appeared affected by the look as he spoke in a monotonous tone. “Your heir attacked her.”

“She did no such thing.”

Meier barely had the time to speak his claim before Sirius was refuting it and it had the others in the room exchanging glances. Bones eyed Rose and she reaffirmed. “You didn’t attack her in any way?”

“Of course not,” Rose replied evenly.

Katrina took that moment to step in, her voice sharp and accusing. “Yes! She did! I know it was her!”

Sirius eyed the other woman with a stiff expression, taking in her otherwise unharmed appearance. “What exactly do you think she has done to you?”

Katrina shot him an incredulous look and seemed to try to take comfort from the support of everyone else in the room. Only she was met with expectant looks too as they all waited for her to tell them.

“Are you all blind?” She asked in a shrill voice. “Look at me!”

There was a weighted silence that followed this demand as everyone did just that. What they all saw was an enraged young woman with her beautiful features twisted in anger.

Lady Meier’s brows twitched before she demanded. “Speak plainly, Katrina. Tell them exactly what she has done.”

Katrina shot her mother a furious glare before her eyes darted to a nearby decorative mirror and it was only Rose who knew exactly what she was seeing in that mirror. A woman who she didn’t recognise.

With one eye swollen shut and the brow above the other eye missing entirely. Boils were bubbling in more than one area and her teeth, once a pristine white and perfectly straight, were now a deep greyish colour with some missing in places. Her hair, just a few months ago luscious and healthy, was now missing in places, leaving only reddish bald spots behind.

Cassiopeia's revenge was a distinctly visible thing but Rose couldn’t exactly have that happening. It would draw too much attention. Besides, she knew that looking like this— despite no one else being able to see it as she would soon learn— would drive Meier mad and have her unwilling to be seen by anyone.  

Katrina jerked her head to look away from her disfigured appearance and shoved a finger in Rose’s direction. “She ruined me!”

Rose stared back impassively and it was Haas who spoke next, a frown on his face and his words slow. “In what way exactly?”

The woman looked ready to burst and if Rose weren’t nearly as in control of her emotions she would have laughed. The woman gestured emphatically to her own face with both hands. “Look at me!”

Her parents were now looking at their daughter with borderline angry expressions, more than likely out of embarrassment for the awkward situation they now found themselves in than anything else. Their daughter claiming an attack so physically obvious while still looking the same as she ever had.

It was with a frown on her face that Bones asked. “What made you think it was Heir Black who attacked you?”

“I know it was her,” Katrina didn’t hesitate to say as she stared stubbornly at Bones. “She did it because I was becoming close with the Pucey heir.”

Now Sirius’s brows were furrowed as he eyed the girl dubiously. “You think my daughter was jealous enough to attack you?”

With an arrogant expression Katrina tossed her hair behind one shoulder. “That’s why she attacked my looks. She wanted Adrian to be disgusted when he looked at me.” The proclamation didn’t have much weight given that— as far as the room could tell— there was nothing really disgusting about her.

Honestly, it seemed like most of the room was placating her more than anything now and Sirius pushed on. “When exactly do you think you were attacked?”

“I know exactly when,” Katrina told them in a triumphant tone. “It was during the Bulstrode Beltane Ball. I was fine before I left home, I was there for two hours and when I got back home I looked like this.”

“That was on the first of last month,” Shacklebolt remarked deeply. “Why wait so long to come forward if you are so upset?”

Flushing unattractively, Katrina said tightly. “I was hoping I could reverse the spell myself without anyone having to see me.” She glared over at Rose now and her voice grew sharp. “Reverse it!”

Rose lifted a brow silently and out of the corner of her eye she saw Haas frown. The man glanced at Lord Meier and his next words were chosen very carefully. “Henry, you know I value your position in our community greatly but it could not have been Rose Potter who… harmed your daughter.” There was no missing the pause before he said ‘harmed’ as the supposed crime wasn’t as clear as the young woman was making it seem.

“It was her!” Katrina insisted.

“Rose Potter, as well as her father and brother, were all in attendance to a Ministry feast during the Bulstrode Ball,” Bones told the Meier parents firmly. 

Hass was nodding his head in agreement and he was quick to explain. “I vas sat near her for the entire evening. There vould have been no opportunity for her to arrange or execute any kind of attack.”

Lord Meier’s jaw lifted at their words and Rose could see it clench tightly as he held back some kind of obvious reaction. Finally he gave a single nod. “We apologise for this appalling claim,” he offered, glancing at Rose but speaking mostly to Sirius.

“Father—”

Whatever Katrina planned to say was waylaid by her mother’s fierce glare.

“When my daughter had such a substantial reaction about this supposed attack I thought it must have been true. Clearly we should have heard her side of this story first before bringing this to you all.” Lord Meier finished as though his daughter hadn’t tried to interrupt.

Sirius and Rose both nodded in sync at the apology and though Katrina looked as though she wanted to protest further, the tight clench of her mother’s hand around her wrist was clearly holding her tongue.

“If that is all we’re going to take our leave,” Sirius said then and glanced over at Bones with a raised brow.

Bones nodded once. “Of course. We apologise as well for this unfortunate visit.”

She got a dismissive wave at the apology and Sirius wasted no time in leading them both back out into the hall and away from the now painfully awkward gathering. Honestly, Rose half wanted to laugh at how this all turned out. She hadn’t dreamed this would all end up so delightfully entertaining but apparently Meier wasn’t a complete waste. Her godfather pointedly didn’t ask her anything more about the whole thing and Rose was sure he knew she did do it. Better for plausible deniability all around. When they got to the Floo he gestured with his usual flair for her to go on through first and Rose did so with a smile.

Harry and Adrian were exactly where they left them, both sitting on different chairs on opposite sides of the coffee table. They sat up straighter when Rose entered and she heard a surge of flames spit out Sirius next. She saw him pull out his pocket watch and he muttered. “I have something I need to take care of—”

“Your lawyer is waiting for you in your office,” Harry helpfully supplied.

Sirius smiled fondly at him before pointing at Rose as he started to leave. “We’ll discuss more on what just happened later.”

There wasn’t much to discuss. As far as anyone was concerned Rose wasn’t anywhere near Meier when she was attacked. As far as anyone was concerned there wasn’t any kind of attack on the young woman at all. Still she nodded easily enough and watched as he left to do business. She glanced over at Harry and Adrian, the latter of whom was now standing and crossing towards her.

“I’m already late to a meeting with some partners so we’ll have to postpone our chat,” he told her quietly. “Lunch tomorrow at one?” He asked as he stopped in front of her by the Floo.

Rose nodded once.

Adrian leaned in closer, a smirk curling at his lips. “You’ll have to tell me what spell you used then.”

Pursing her lips to smother her own smirk, Rose claimed in an airy voice. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She got a soft huff at that before Adrian pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek and took his leave.

Rose smiled for a second before straightening out her expression and looking over at Harry.

“Are you in trouble then?” Her brother wasted no time in asking. When she lifted a brow curiously he explained. “Apparently Meier went to see Pucey first to tell him you cursed her but assured him she would be fixed and would be back to looking as beautiful as ever. Pucey was confused considering she still looked the same.”

Rose only laughed at that, not bothering to reply as she headed further into the house, ready to resume her previous plans before she was interrupted by everything that just happened.

“Are you in trouble?” Harry called again after her.

“Of course not,” Rose called back.

“You make Meier look like she was losing it?”

Her only response to that was a pleased hum that likely went unheard by her brother as she climbed up the stairs to her room with swift steps. It had definitely been a good day.

Amelia Bones was the new Minister of Magic for Britain. She had been sworn in that very morning and her runner up— Rufus Scrimgeour— was apparently being looked at to take over her previous position as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Rose had wondered if that fact would cause Tom a lot of trouble in the near future— speaking of which.

“Did you lose your job then?”

She was sitting with Harry in the Golden Goblet, the two of them wanting to get lunch while Sirius was busy with Ministry stuff and Rose wasn’t working, when Tom had sat down across from them. It wasn’t a surprise to see him, the only reason the twins were even outside of their home was because he had asked to meet with them. Harry took the opportunity to suggest this particular place since he had been craving the burgers from here. The Dark Lord hadn’t spoken or offered any kind of greeting for a good few minutes after he arrived which was what prompted Rose to ask her question.

Tom shook his head almost unnoticeably. “Madam Bones asked if I would like to stay on as Undersecretary for the Minister of Magic. She said my work ethic and achievements since starting my job have been most notable.”

Harry snorted at that and even Rose couldn't deny she was amused at the irony of Tom’s words.

She wanted to know what Tom would do in the future, if he would reveal his true identity at some point and shock that nation or if he’d just let Thomas Carrington die an unassuming death or just disappear into obscurity.

“That’s not important now,” Tom said then, ending that line of conversation rather swiftly. “With Grindelwald making moves I have made efforts to ensure that the two of you—” Rose cleared her throat harshly here with a glare on her face “— and your listed people, but more importantly the two of you, have extra precautions.” 

Rose had to inform the people on her list that they shouldn’t be alarmed to see people around their homes not long after her talk with Tom. Not just people but escaped Death Eaters by way of the Lestrange brothers at that. She readily informed them that, as per their agreement, the Dark Lord was putting up extra wardings to ensure their safety.

Mr. Weasley had looked relieved to hear it though Bill had insisted he look at all the wards once they were done which Rose told him he was more than free to do.

From seemingly nowhere Tom pulled out two rather plain looking necklaces made of a material Rose couldn’t identify by sight alone. Both were black and he handed one off to Harry and the other to Rose. “Wear these at all times. Should you receive a life threatening injury I will be alerted, they are also Portkeys that are activated by saying the word Hallow in Parseltongue.”

“Hallow?” Harry repeated as he slowly took the necklace.

“Had to pick a word I was certain you’d have in mind at all times and wouldn’t come in conversation with any snakes,” Tom retorted smoothly.

Merlin knew Harry was obsessed with the Hallows and it was an odd enough word that it wouldn’t come up in any conversation in Parseltongue and would be distinct enough to remember. 

Rose eyed her own necklace with a critical gaze, taking note of the various runes inscribed on it. She had no doubt there were plenty more protections on it but she trusted— mainly due to the contract they had and the soul pieces inside of them— that Tom wouldn’t put anything nefarious on either one. It was a simple band about a centimeter thick, just wide enough for the tiny runes to fit on, and it was evidently one size with no clasp in sight. At the centre of the necklace the band wrapped tightly around a small stone that was mostly covered. 

All in all it was simple enough not to look too out of place on either twin.

She shot Tom a look. “Sirius won’t let us leave the country now and to my understanding it will be a lot more difficult for Grindelwald to enter Britain too.”

Tom waved a dismissive hand. “My sources say Grindelwald seems more concerned with spreading his influence across Germany at the moment and building a stronger base but I would rather be thoroughly prepared should anything come up.”

How very Slytherin of him, thinking up any possible outcomes and preparing in advance. 

“Well, I’m going to go home now,” Harry said as he put the necklace on, still rather awkward about the casual air they had with Tom from time to time. They had long since finished their meals, honestly the only thing that had kept them from leaving before now was the fact that Tom had yet to show up. When he stood Rose shot him a look that had her brother grinning faintly. “Don’t worry, I’m headed straight there and I’ll give you a call as soon as I get there.”

Tom eyed her curiously as Harry left and Rose silently pulled out her third of their mirrors. “Sirius gave these to us in our fifth year. They’re a matching trio. All we have to do is call out the name of whoever we want to talk to and the matching mirror will ring.”

“Like a Muggle telephone,” Tom said evenly, an openly intrigued expression on his face. 

Rose hummed as she eyed her reflection. “Sirius wants us to keep them on us at all times now that Grindelwald seems to be targeting us directly— or at the very least me.” She didn’t say much else, instead waiting in silence for her brother's call and only after she was assured he was safe at home did Rose look at Tom again.

“The Order is on the move again— at least looking for more fighters more readily now.”

A few weeks ago Ron had mentioned how Moody cornered his father at St. Mungo’s the day Victoire was born. He also informed her how apparently Hermione overheard Moody’s rousing words about choosing between doing ‘what was easy and what was right’.

Dumbledore words if she’s ever heard them.

It was no surprise that they were making moves but she felt it was worth noting aloud to Tom regardless. 

“I have people keeping an eye on that,” Tom said in a contemptuous tone. “I knew they’d start moving to gather more people once I stepped out into the public. They were bound to do so even if I hadn’t, what with Grindelwald’s recent moves.” He shot her a more probing stare. “Have they approached you or your brother?”

“Not directly,” Rose murmured. “But I imagine they’ll try to contact Harry soon enough.” Merlin knew she was seen as a lost cause.

Especially with this Prophecy out in the open now— from what Remus had said in the past Dumbledore had not revealed the contents of the Prophecy to anyone in the Order. Those who knew the workings of the Ministry were smart enough to piece together what they were guarding in their fifth year but they hadn’t known any details. Just what the twins needed, another reason for the Order to be stubbornly determined to change their minds. Or Harry’s mind. She was tired of getting dragged into all these conflicts— Grindelwald now doing just the same annoyingly enough. 

It’s not like she knew the significance of Dumbledore's stupid wand when she took it. 

Rose suddenly wondered if Tom ever bothered to tell his followers about the Prophecy. If not the masses then his inner circle at least. The Lestranges and Crouch knew to go after Neville but then again it could have just been because Tom was keeping an eye on him. 

The thought of his inner circle had Rose glancing up. “Did you figure out who the rat is?”

It had only been a few days since she told him about it but couldn’t imagine it was something he’d put on the back burner.  

“I have some suspects,” Tom offered vaguely as he eyed their surroundings. “It was something I was already preparing for and I have my most skilled on the matter.”

Was that the Lestranges and Crouch? Rose wondered to herself. She imagined so, they were some of the few who willingly went to Azkaban rather than denounce Tom’s name in any way. The most loyal he had, no doubt about it. If it were her she wouldn’t voice any doubts of loyalty to anyone other than those she knew would never stray. 

“You’ll have to be careful with who you give the Mark to as well,” Rose muttered more to herself than anything. “Grindelwald can slip spies into your ranks.”

“Yet another thing I’m prepared for,” Tom told her with a self-satisfied smirk. “I slowed down my markings significantly and enacted a series of protocols needed to be completed before one is eligible.”

“When is your next marking?”

“On Litha. With the sparring markings I’ll have a fair amount joining up.”

Chapter Text

The last time the Dark Lord handed out Dark Marks was the previous year during Yule. It was sometime before then that he enacted a vouching system for any new followers who wanted to join. A lot of Purebloods were highly paranoid about the whole thing and not just the ones joining the cause. No— it was those who would do the vouching that were nervous. It didn’t take a genius to realise Grindelwald would eventually try to squeeze people into Voldemort’s ranks and no one wanted to be the one who vouched for a spy. 

Draco’s father turned down every request for a vouch from those who asked and he was relieved to hear that. 

Thankfully his father managed to get himself back in good standing with the Dark Lord, a far cry from the year or so immediately following His return. From what his mother told him his father lost something of the Dark Lord’s back in Draco’s second year, something important enough to warrant extended fury. (Draco assumed it was involved with the Chamber of Secrets mess that happened that year.) The Dark Lord hadn’t been appeased with a single round of unforgettable torture, by way of the Cruciatus Curse, no he prolonged it and even went as far as to give Draco the Mark at sixteen as punishment as well. 

The last bit was according to Draco’s mother at least. 

There were twenty three people waiting to receive the Mark today, a big jump for the seven people there were when Draco was marked. Before that, in the year and half Draco witnessed since leaving Hogwarts and officially joining the ranks, the Dark Lord would mark usually two to five people— sometimes more but maybe only one or two extra— every other month. 

Now he’s switched to a sixth month difference in markings, which was wise Draco supposed, since it would allow him to carefully assess and vet anyone who was joining. 

The whole ceremony remained unchanged though. All those already marked— those available at least— gathered to witness those who would join the ranks. The joinees swore their oath and received the Mark for all to see. The odd time the Dark Lord made announcements or doled out needed punishments. Actually, punishments were almost doled out during this time which Draco was sure was a pointed warning to the newest recruits. Follow orders, don’t make mistakes and avoid failures at all costs— 

Or pay the price.

Draco was familiar with most of those who were joining up, some more so than others, but there were four from outside the country joining. One from Greece; Nicholas Aetos, one from France; Milo Landry, and two from Italy; Matteo De Luca and Alessia Moretti. It was the last name that drew more attention. It wasn’t that often that a woman joined the ranks. Most Pureblood women were more concerned with being a wife and those that weren’t usually had no interest in bowing down to any man.

Not to say there weren’t any because there were. Draco knew a handful to be members; Millicent Bulstrode, Sylvia Nott and Camille Avery to name just a few. But it was still a rare enough occurrence that when one joined everyone took note. None of them, however, have managed to come even close to the standard Draco’s aunt has set. 

Bellatrix Lestrange was legendary even outside of the Darker circles. During the First War she was known as someone to fear— skilled and deadly in every mission she was sent on. It was her that most women who joined the ranks tried to emulate though none had yet to truly manage. From what Draco was told the Dark Lord took his aunt under his wing just a year after she graduated from Hogwarts, seeing something within her that showed promise and potential. He then taught and guided her into becoming the fierce woman she was today.

Draco’s father said it was a rare offer where the Dark Lord was concerned. It was essentially a guaranteed invite for a spot in his inner circle though not all those in said circle had been given the same opportunity.

Speaking of the inner circle, apparently there was a spy in the ranks.

He wasn’t entirely sure how they knew there was a spy— or more accurately what information was spilled— but there was a spy. That was something being kept closely underwraps, the only reason Draco knew was because he heard his father and godfather speaking about it. When he had been caught over hearing it he was told in no uncertain terms that he was not to speak of it to anyone.

“Draco.”

Head darting up, Draco was quick to spot his father approaching, his face still obscured by the mask they were all wearing but his voice distinctive to him for obvious reasons. He wasn’t all that surprised that his father knew exactly where he was and a quick glance around had him realising most had already begun leaving, the ceremony now over.

“Yes, father?”

His father gave him a brief nudge to get moving further into the Dark Lord’s manor rather than the Apparition point everyone else would take. As they walked he spoke in a low murmur. “There will be a gathering this evening with all available Death Eaters. You are to attend and would do well to make ties with as many of the foreign Death Eaters as possible.”

Draco’s brow furrowed as they stepped into the hall, glancing back at where the Dark Lord’s throne was now sitting empty, and he asked. “Why is that?”

“As you know the Dark Lord is keeping a close eye out for any potential spies,” his father reminded him in a low murmur. “Usually he deploys his most loyal for these kinds of matters— and for some he will— but any spies will be especially careful around us.”

Obviously. Most of the inner circle was made up of incredibly skilled individuals who were mistrusting at the very best of times. He’d say all of them but some of the skills that garnered a seat in the inner circle were— in his opinion— not at all difficult to achieve. Crabbe and Goyle both came to mind, as did Yaxley and Macnair but some would disagree. Clearly the Dark Lord did too if they were who he chose.

There would be a new opening in the top ranks too, Draco realised, with Dolohov’s death a few months back. The man was the most skilled in Magical Detection— detecting wards and specific magical items nearby with a seemingly sixth sense— so it was those who were skilled in that that would be watched more closely.

Sadly that would not be Draco.

He shot his father a considering look. “Did our Lord tell you this?”

“Yes,” his father confirmed quietly, once again nudging Draco, this time into the Dark Lord’s Floo room. “He is asking a select few from each of the rank levels to keep an eye out.”

“Okay.”

He was ushered through the Floo directly to Malfoy Manor before anything else could be said and didn’t hesitate to move from the front of it so his father could do the same. The manor was no longer where he lived though it would always be his family home, as signified by the title of the address. Two months before his wedding he had purchased a house in a large area that many starting family homes resided in and it was after his honeymoon that he and Astoria officially moved in.

The place wasn’t small by any means, with four bedrooms, three baths, a study and formal dining room. It was just small enough not to be considered a ‘manor’, which were usually allotted with far more rooms as well as a library and ballroom plus more. It was somewhat of a tradition for most Purebloods. There were scattered homes throughout the country that were almost always lived in for a certain amount of years by newly weds. Generally the couples would stay long enough for their own parents to get to an age where they moved out of the main family manor into one of the summer homes or smaller houses after their retirement— both in work and in title as Lord of the family. Or the odd time long enough for them to build their own manor if they had the means to do so.

When Draco’s father was ready to step down as Lord Malfoy he and his mother would move into the cottage— and ‘cottage’ was hardly the right word for their small but no less extravagant house— they had in France that his mother was so fond of.

Then Draco and Astoria— as well as whatever children they may have at that point in time— would move into Malfoy Manor and slowly but surely make it their own. Astoria would be more in charge of that when the time came, the woman already most eager in decorating their home now. Draco was just thankful her tastes at least inlined with his own.

As soon as his father had stepped through and the Floo died down Draco asked. “Where is the party? When exactly is it?”

He didn’t receive any kind of response straight away, his father only silently jerking his chin for Draco to follow as he moved further into the manor. It didn’t take long for him to work out where they were going, the path to his father’s study was a familiar one to him, having been led there numerous times, even more so since he graduated from Hogwarts and started learning his family duties more closely.

His father’s study wasn’t an overly large space but not small by any means. His desk was directly across from the doorway— two chairs in front of it for guests— and behind it was a wall that had a large window that overlooked the backyard where Draco practiced his flying growing up. The entire left wall was made up of shelves with books and various items strewn purposefully upon them and the farthest half of the right wall was the same. The remainder of the right wall had a dark console table pressed against it with an ornate mirror hanging directly above that. The rug on the floor was exactly eight years old— well it was older than that but it has been in this office for eight years— which Draco knew because almost as soon as he got home after his first year at school he accidentally spilled ink on the old one. His father had been furious and up till that day it was probably the angriest Draco had ever seen him.

He pushed the memory from his mind for now as he sat in one of the chairs and watched as his father did the same behind his desk.

The desk itself was spotless, with only a decorative stand holding a quill and ink pot as well as a small lamp resting on the upper right corner for when his father did work late at night.

“That party is being hosted by Theodore Nott Sr,” his father told as he clasped his hands in front of himself. “It will start in less than an hour; he was already preparing for the event and as far as anyone knows it's a celebration of Litha. Strictly Death Eaters.”

Draco frowned. “I thought Theodore Nott distanced himself from the cause.”

“He started involving himself again less than a year ago though I know he and our Lord have been having conversations again for over two years now.” His father offered quietly with a contemplative expression. “Apparently our Lord’s drastic change in behaviour from the greater end of the First War had brought him back around.”

That made sense, it was widely known that the reason Theordore Nott Sr. distanced himself from the cause wasn’t because he no longer believed in it but rather because of their Lord’s rapidly declining sanity. Their Lord apparently held no ill will to him, largely because Tiberius Nott— Nott Sr’s son— joined so readily and was extremely loyal. He would be the Dark Lord’s oldest living ally, at seventy six years old, and was one of his first followers back when the Dark Lord’s followers were called the Knights of Walpurgis. Draco’s own grandfather had been one of them as well, as were Lucian Bole’s great-grandfather, his uncle Rodolphus’ father and grandfather to name a few, all of whom were now dead, either dying from diseases or in battle.

All of them had gone to school with the Dark Lord and it was a novel concept for Draco to think of the terrifying man as just another school student.

“I want to be clear here, Draco,” his father said, breaking Draco out of his pensive thoughts and his eyes darted upwards. “You are to make connections and try to get close to foreign followers but you— under no circumstances— are to reveal any information of any value in return.”

“Of course not,” Draco replied stiffly, mildly offended that his father thought it needed to be said. He was now twenty years old, most certainly old enough to know how to handle delicate situations such as this.

His now two years as a full fledged Death Eater most certainly stuck that lesson in. Still, despite his increased age and experience as a Death Eater his father eyed him critically as though weighing how much Draco understood the seriousness in his words.

Draco sat straighter. “Where’s mother?” He asked, bypassing the previous talk rather obviously.

“She’s over at Black’s,” his father told him, allowing the change in topic. “She has been busy with numerous responsibilities as of late and hadn’t had a chance to check in with the man since their family’s run in with Grindelwald.”

The Potter twins.

Draco sincerely doubted he’d ever be rid of those two. More recent news about them was about how Grindelwald tried to kill Rose Potter at some German event. It wasn’t front page news though— only those who actually kept an ear out for those two being made aware of the incident. Which included Death Eaters to Draco’s dismay.

The front page news on them though was this so-called ‘Prophecy’. 

As much as he hated to admit it, it made a lot of sense. Or rather, it made a lot of things make sense. Dumbledore was damn near obsessive about keeping those twins in his reach and now it was all too clear why. They were going to be his ‘saviours’. That clearly didn’t turn out well for the man. The both of them— or more accurately the Slytherin Potter— distanced themselves from him rather pointedly, something only aided to by Black himself. Draco was also observant enough by now to realise that the Potter twins were no longer an enemy of their Lord, something that confused him greatly after he saw the headline earlier this month.

One would think if a seer— one whose prediction was already partially true— predicted one’s end that those involved would go to great lengths to make sure it didn’t happen. Which the Dark Lord clearly did try to do at one point which only brought the Prophecy into fulfillment. 

He knew there was something he was missing but he’d find out just what eventually.

While Draco still had many bitter feelings about those two, likely always would, as time went on he was forced to admit they were far more cunning than he originally realised.

At least Rose Potter was.

Something she would have had to have been in order to take over the Slytherin Hierarchy in their third year. The only one to beat that time frame was the Dark Lord himself in his second year. Blaise had been right about what he said at Draco’s engagement party, loathed as he was to admit it. He was blinded, so focused on one thing that he missed signs of other things long before they were thrown in his face. Rose Potter played things slow, so slow that most didn’t even realise what she was doing until they were in a greatly unfavourable position. It wasn’t just Draco to fall to that either, Dumbledore himself was probably the most notable one which actually did leave him feeling a bit better about his sightlessness.

At least he was a child when he missed it all.

Then again Dumbledore probably did see the signs in Rose Potter. He had heard his father and godfather talking at multiple different times about how it unnerved Dumbledore how similar the girl was to the Dark Lord in his own youth. And honestly, from what he’s heard, Draco could see the similarities too.

No, Dumbledore had been blind when it came to Harry Potter.  

For a man who liked to preach about the strength and power of love and fighting for what’s important he truly did underestimate the devotion those twins had for one another. Even as hateful and irritable he was about the two, Draco could see it. Dumbledore thought Harry Potter would be willing to put the sake of the world over his own sister and he learnt the hard way just how untrue that was.

“You should go get ready, we’ll be arriving early to the party.”

Yet again Draco was pulled out of his pensive thoughts— he’s been having a lot of them this evening apparently— and looked up at his father. 

He didn’t seem displeased by Draco’s distraction, likely putting it up to Draco preparing for this evening's event, but shot a pointed look to the door for him to get moving.

Right. Death Eater party.

Draco couldn't remember all the foreign Death Eaters off hand so tonight he’d start with the ones who were Marked this evening. After that he’d ask his father for a full list of the rest and work on putting together discrete gatherings that included them. Then he’d slowly try to garner as much information from each of them as he could to deliver to their Lord.

For now he’d do this one task at a time. 

That, Draco has learnt, was an essential to making it through the Dark Lord’s ranks unscathed.

Rose had been avoiding crowds lately.

Not to say she was ever frequent in crowds before but now she was making a more pointed effort to steer clear. 

Ever since the whole prophecy business had come out— true to her predictions— she and Harry had been getting far more stares. The added negative was these stares, once just awed or downright nosey, had a desperate and hopeful look to them. People clearly believed in the thing annoyingly enough and it was like they were all waiting for her and Harry to do something

They’d be waiting a long time.

Even at work she didn’t get much of a reprieve. She thought Unspeakables of all people would understand the self-fulfilling, and at times unreliable, nature of prophecies but even they weren’t at all subtle about watching her as she worked. She got some looks before, or rather her scar did, but now it was far more frequent and irritating her to no end.

It hadn’t been so bad at first but by mid-June it had become insufferable for them both.

Rose wasn’t the only one avoiding crowds, Harry was quick to follow her lead in this. He had taken to making frequent visits to Potter manor to familiarize himself with the family estate and various other things and started to do a lot more home based tasks over the last two weeks. The things he needed to learn about working inside the Ministry had reached its end— sort of had a while back for the most part but one could never be too prepared— so Sirius had been fine with Harry’s plans. They had also taken to declining any and all party invitations now and Sirius had informed them with everything going on, the Prophecy and Grindelwald’s attack, no one would hold their reclusiveness against them for the foreseeable future.

She knew their godfather was also heavily worried about Grindelwald targeting them and was all for encouraging their home-body habits as of late. He was always quick to offer to pick up whatever things they may need from Diagon Alley, or wherever else, if they happened to mention something to him.

So Harry only ventured out for the odd visit Ron and Hermione or Ginny or Remus but otherwise stayed home. Rose it was even less so, with only trips to work and maybe the odd visit to her few friends. She much preferred making them come to her though and did so as often as she could get away with it.

It was on the last day of June that she made one of her rare exceptions to leaving her home. Adrian had invited her out to dinner and— in what Rose was sure was an effort to adhere to her unwillingness to be around people— had even booked a private room at one of their favourite restaurants.

It was high-class, with the restaurant often one of the first called when someone of high status wanted a party catered, and it was a place Rose and Adrian frequented often. Even arriving was more discreet than most other places. With no front door and only a Floo by way of entrance, customers didn’t have to deal with the crowds wandering outside like they did when eating in a Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade restaurant.

The place had warm lighting offered by the candled chandeliers that hung throughout the restaurant. When one arrived they were spat out into a fair sized waiting area that was hardly filled due to the restaurant being constantly booked with reservations sometimes months ahead of time. The vast majority of the seating areas were in a large open space with rows of booths along a wall next to windows charmed to depict a starry night. There was a large bar against a far wall with stools that hardly ever saw use except for when the odd person would go up for their own drink or to ask questions about the alcohol offered. Directly to the right of the waiting area was a large velvet curtain that opened to a set of stairs that led to the private dining areas.

Rose instinctively stepped in line with Adrian when he pressed a hand to her back, silently urging her to follow the host for the evening. It wasn’t a long walk, their dining area being the third one they came upon, and the man who led them there— a familiar face to Rose— gave them both a respectable nod before heading back to the front.

“I took the liberty to make our orders ahead of time,” Adrian told her quietly as they stepped inside.

The private dining areas were very similar to the main seating area, only smaller and more intimate with one table and no bar in sight. Candles were glowing in fixtures on the walls offering just enough light that they could see with ease but not so much that it blinded them. Like the main area the table setting was clean, with a white cloth layered with a smaller decorative maroon cloth. The cutlery sat on either side of an empty spot, waiting to be used, and two glasses, already filled with water, were just off to the side of that.

Rose smiled faintly at Adrian’s words as she crossed to her seat. “Maybe I wanted to pick my own order,” she said just to be difficult.

She got a sardonic look from Adrian as he sat across from her. “You order the same thing every time we come here.”

Which was true. Rose was admittedly a creature of habit more often than not. She made a point to venture out here and there just so she didn’t miss an opportunity entirely but when it came to things like food— especially in a restaurant setting— she stuck with what she knew. She and Harry never got exposed to a large variety of foods growing up and she was always half worried one day they’d stumble upon some long undiscovered allergy when they ate something new.

“Maybe I was feeling spontaneous today.”

“Were you?”

“No,” Rose admitted as she reached out to grab her glass, fingers tightening when she felt the slippery condensation along the outside, and took a sip. She shot him a smile when he rolled his eyes and could easily read the amusement in the corners of his mouth.

Sometimes it was amusing to be difficult or stubborn for no reason— Harry always took forever to catch on to the fact that she was doing it on purpose whenever she did it to him.

Their meal silently appeared then, looking just as good as it did whenever they came here, and Rose didn’t hesitate to start eating. She was uncharacteristically hungry after neglecting to eat lunch due to being busy with some research.

“Have you learnt anything else about Grindelwald?” Adrian asked quietly, his eyes trained heavily on her as though watching for any lies.

The man had been about as nervous as he got when he heard about the attack earlier this month. Had even spent the night at Grimmauld Place that evening, the two of them lying side by side on her bed talking late into the night. 

Rose had assured him that she was a difficult person to kill, even for Dark Lords, but he hadn’t been at all assuaged by her words. It was only then that she had murmured a reassurance that she would be moving more carefully from then on and that the Dark Lord was under an obligation to offer her protection of the highest regards. She wound up falling asleep mid sentence, the events of that evening catching up to her all at once, and when she had opened her eyes the next morning Adrian had still been in the same spot, wide awake, as he waited for her to be the same.

A part of her wanted to ask if he had stayed up the whole night but she chose to ignore it for the time being, instead slipping into a more clear headed conversation about the events the night before.

“According to the Dark Lord he’s more focused on expanding his base than trying to worm his way into London,” Rose assured him quietly, cutting up the meal on her plate absently. “He likely needs a stronger army before trying anything considering the Dark Lord has been preparing his own for a good five years now. Wouldn’t want to enter a losing battle so soon.”

Plus the Dark Lord already had a wide spread of influence in Britain whereas Grindelwald was likely still trying to gain a stronger hand in Germany’s Ministry.

Adrian nodded his head silently as he finally started to pick at his meal and Rose resisted the urge to smile at his worrying. She shouldn’t take such enjoyment out of it but she had been the same— as had Harry— back when Sirius first openly worried about her. 

It was a warm feeling to know she was valued enough to be worried for, not counting her brother that was, and unlike Harry she wouldn’t feel too guilty about enjoying it.

They continued to share idle small talk— something Rose hated with literally anyone else— while they ate but there wasn't much to cover. With Adrian hovering lately, he had been visiting far more often, and with Rose not actually doing much of anything outside work it was a quick task to catch up on anything going on in each of their lives.

“Harry has a new mystery to obsess about,” Rose told him at one point.

Adrian raised a brow. “He's done with the Deathly Hallows then?”

Rose had kept Adrian well informed about Harry’s theories about the Hallows ever since Harry really got into looking into them back in March, Marcus and Graham as well but not quite as much as she had with the man across from her.

All three of them didn’t dismiss Harry’s theories all together but they were skeptical at the start. It was only after they found out about Grindelwald and Dumbledore’s belief— or assumed belief— in them that they paid it more attention. Their general consensus had eventually settled on the items actually existing but their belief in the possibility of becoming the Master of Death was a near nonexistent thing.

“No, he’s still obsessed with that,” Rose said with a sigh, placing her cutlery on her plate and not even glancing down as it disappeared from view. “But I think he’s hitting a bit of a wall in his current line of research— not that that will stop him for long.”

“What’s the new mystery then?” Adrian asked quietly as he too finished up his meal, clasping his hands in front of his mouth as he watched her intently.

“Do you know the story behind the oldest castle in Germany?” Rose asked in turn.

Adrian’s brows furrowed. “As far as I know it was once owned by a well respected royal family who died out centuries ago. That and no one claimed the place out of respect for them— until the German Ministry that is.”

That seemed to be the general amount of knowledge on the subject— apart from the German official they first spoke to— anyone had too. At least it was the extent that everyone Harry and Rose spoke to at the party knew.

Rose licked her lips, taking a quick sip of her drink, and said. “Apparently the family was cursed. Someone at the party had old family members working there when they were still alive and he said that the king— the one before the last king— made some kind of deal with an unknown being and was then cursed, which is why they all died.”

Now Adrian had an openly curious look on his face, his clasped hands coming down to rest on the tabletop not far from Rose’s own. “That sounds interesting. I’m assuming your brother won’t stop looking into it now until he gets the whole story.”

Rose snorted inelegantly, that was an understatement. “I think the only reason he hasn’t gone back to ask the man the rest of the tale is because Sirius banned us from leaving the country for the time being.”

Adrian huffed softly in his own amusement and he eyed her carefully for a beat before he asked. “What’s your opinion?”

“I wouldn’t rule it out altogether— Merlin knows people do stupid things for power— but I also wouldn’t buy into it all too soon. Everyone remembers the legend behind the Shrieking Shack and how that turned out.”

The Shrieking Shack was a shack in Hogsmeade not far from Hogwarts that was said to be haunted by terrible spirits. People would often say one could hear screams coming from it time and time again. As it turned out, said screams were due to the transformations of a teenage werewolf— by the name of Remus Lupin— who used the shack as a safe place to transform when he was attending school growing up.

Adrian tilted his head in agreement to that.

“Why did you want to come out tonight?” Rose asked after the conversation lulled.

She got a raised brow. “This is one of our more favourite restaurants and it’s been a while since we’ve come here to eat,” he reminded her evenly.

Which was true, this one was one they tried to come to at least once a week. The only thing was that since the Grindelwald attack Adrian hadn’t been keen on going out at all. Instead they either ate at Grimmauld Place or at Adrian’s; some place indoors in order to curb his worried tendencies as of late.

But Rose supposed his hermit lifestyle couldn’t last. As much as Adrian could be as reclusive as Rose he did like going out and doing things on occasion. Dining at restaurants, gathering with close friends or even colleagues; perhaps he had been feeling a bit too cooped up. So she nodded her head at that, eyeing their now empty table consideringly. They almost never ordered dessert when they ate out, why exactly Rose couldn’t say but it was a habit they stuck too.

“My father has grown impatient with me,” Adrian said, drawing Rose’s eyes back to him. His words had her resisting the urge to frown as she knew there was only one topic he could really be talking about. “He has been for a while now. I have known that since he had seemed willing to take up Meier on her pointed offer.”

This was a topic Rose could admit she was avoiding thinking about. She had instead chosen to ride the pleased feeling she got after getting rid of Meier rather thoroughly.

The girl hadn’t been to any Pureblood parties lately, at least none in Britain.

But it was foolish to think it wouldn’t come up ever again. Adrian’s father was— as he said— impatient to have his son get married. They had been hopeful to at least buy him four months of time to find his own future wife with their courtship idea and had managed to extend that timeline to nine months.

Despite the illustriousness the Black title brought even the most stubborn of Purebloods would have to call it if their goals weren’t seen as moving along.

“I have realised, back in April in fact, that I need to make a decision,” Adrian told her, never one to be put out by a lack of response from Rose. “Unless I want my father to pick someone for me— something he seems prepared to do any day now— I need to start not just a courtship but an engagement. I am prepared for just that. In fact I even ordered a ring. Marcus came with me to pick it up earlier this month.”

She hadn’t realised he had already prepared a ring, he hadn’t mentioned it actually. Rose could only nod her head slowly and found herself having to put a great deal of effort into sounding normal as she commented. “You hadn’t mentioned who exactly you were considering landing on.”

“Yeah,” Adrian huffed with a strained look that was quickly tucked behind his normal confident demeanor. “When I first started this I had some names whom I considered— women that have approached me, sometimes more than once, in the last few months— but I found myself reluctant to start anything with any of them.”

He was doing a remarkable job at not meeting Rose’s stare so far but then again Rose wasn't trying all that hard to meet his gaze either. 

Suddenly it became clear why Adrian wanted to go out tonight. This would be the end of their arrangement. His time was up, he needed to find someone to marry and as such he could no longer devote his time to what they were doing. Wouldn’t need to any longer. It surprised Rose just how much the thought pinched in her chest. It was an uncomfortable feeling she wasn’t familiar with and instantly wanted to swipe away and ignore for as long as possible. Only she couldn’t. For all the skill she had in ignoring unfavourable emotions and putting painful moments behind her— all the time and energy she spent perfecting that skill over the years— Rose found herself right in the center of a moment that she couldn’t hide from.

“I know what I want moving forward,” Adrian told her, finally catching her stare with his own and she studied the deep mixtures of blues that made up his eyes. “I don’t know if what I want is what I’ll get but I would rather take the chance than spend the rest of my life bitter and wondering what might have been.”

Rose’s brows furrowed at his words but she didn’t get the chance to ask him to clarify— half wondered if she would have been able to even muster up the words— before Adrian was placing something on the table between them. Her eyes darted to it straight away, thrilled with the distraction honestly, and she knew what it was at once. A small but well crafted black box, covered in what would no doubt be a soft velvet fabric, and containing something that didn’t take a genius to guess what.

Did he want her opinion on the thing?

Rose glanced back up at Adrian and his heavy stare remained trained on her. “It was exactly five years ago today that I told you ‘I was with you on this’. When the Dark Lord had just returned and I knew, without a doubt, that whatever happened next I wanted to do so at your side.” He reached for the box between them, his fingers fiddling with the edges before he opened the latch.

It was a nice ring; an incredible ring in fact. Adrian had forgone the traditional, and in Rose’s biased opinion cliche, diamond. Instead the ring had a black sandstone at its centre— littered with specs that made it look as though it were twinkling— and nestled on either side of it were three small pear-shaped emeralds, all of which sat upon a simple silver band.

“My stance hasn’t changed, if anything it’s only become more and more true over the years,” Adrian told her quietly and Rose had to drag her eyes away from the ring. “I’m with you on this. I’m with you in this. In life.” He licked his lips in a rare show of nerves but didn’t look away from her for a second. “I’m yours— no matter how you answer this I will always be yours before I am anyone else's. But I have to ask this, because if I don’t I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

Oh.

“Will you marry me?”

It was almost surreal how quickly the emotions in her chest stirred around; the sharp feeling of pain spinning into a sense of relief that stole the air out of her lungs. She couldn’t help but stare; eyes tracking Adrian’s face for any other things she missed because clearly she had been missing things before now.

Rose was possessive by nature, it’s something almost anyone who really knew her was aware of. She was possessive of her brother, shielding him from everything she can and unwilling to let him go for the sake of even the entire world. She was possessive of Sirius, slow as she was to be at first, the only person she was willing to share him with being her twin.

And, as she’s discovered over the last few months, she was possessive of Adrian. So much so that she cursed a woman into believing herself to be horribly disfigured— for what would be the rest of her life— simply because she was so clearly ready to marry the man.  Rose was very careful to avoid thinking about what would happen next for their whole situation. She avoided thinking about the day Adrian would no longer need to delay the inevitable and find himself a wife. Some woman that Rose would forever be expected to play nice with and share him with for the rest of their lives.

Rose did not share, not with the things that mattered most to her at the very least, which was why her answer was all too simple.

“Yes.”

The grin she got in return was truly a rare and incredible thing, the charming sight of his sharper than average canines clear to see. It had Rose huffing out a soft laugh as a matching grin broke out on her face. Adrian didn’t waste any time dipping his fingers into the box, pulling the ring free and holding out one hand in a silent prompt for her. She moved just as swiftly as he did, offering up her left hand and watching in faint disbelief as Adrian slid the ring onto her left ring finger, right next to the Black heirship ring which sat on the middle one.

Marriage most certainly wasn’t on Rose’s list of plans, never really had been. Not to say she was against it, she just didn’t see the purpose in the whole thing outside of the legal aspects. But marriage was expected for Adrian, an unavoidable in Pureblood circles, and if wearing this ring— if getting married was what it would take for Rose to keep him then she would do so. At least the presence of a ring would be a much clearer and more concrete message for people to back off.

Once the ring was set Adrian curled his fingers around her hand to hold onto it, squeezing it once almost unconsciously. 

“You picked a good one,” Rose couldn’t help but comment, her eyes darting down to look at their hands, to look at the ring now nestled on her finger.

“I picked it with you in mind,” Adrian replied easily enough, the remnants of a smile still linger at the corners of his mouth.

The words left Rose feeling particularly smug both for the fact that, had she said no to his question, whoever wore the ring next would have been the furthest thing from Adrian’s mind when he had picked it out and that Adrian felt deeply enough about her that he didn’t spare a thought to anyone else when picking out the engagement ring.

The former was not something she had to worry about now though.

She looked back up at him and found him watching her with that same heavy stare he had been sporting for the last few months and Rose couldn't help but feel a bit slow for not catching on sooner.

“When did you know you didn’t want to ask anyone else?” 

Adrian tilted his head at the question. “I knew for certain when I realised I would rather endure an evening surrounded by Muggles— in Muggle clothing, nonetheless— than spend my time with anyone else. But I had been reluctant to even look for anyone ever since our families first sat down for dinner together.”

That was back in January, which had Rose wanting to smile.

“I didn’t know if you would be open to the idea though. The idea of making this real in a way that we were both pretending it wasn’t,” Adrian said quietly, his thumb moving absently along the backs of her fingers and around her rings. “Not until the whole Meier situation at least.”

Rose couldn’t help but laugh outright at that. Okay— how she handled the Meier situation was not in the least bit subtle and was showing her hand a bit but she hadn’t been able to help herself. It was something that needed to be done.

Adrian smiled in a darkly fond way as he watched her laugh, he had never been put off in the slightest about what she had done. Most might have been, might have taken a pause at the lengths she went to get rid of someone who could be perceived as a ‘rival’, but Adrian only seemed pleased with her actions. She supposed to him it was glaring proof that she felt just as strongly about what they had as he did. Strongly enough to feel the need to defend it.

“So, what now?” Rose asked, having never cared enough to really look into what followed an engagement. It wasn’t something she planned to be concerned about after all.

“Now we tell our families,” Adrian said easily enough. “I imagine my father will try to string up as many possible benefits out of this as he can but we can ignore that with ease. He should be pleased enough with an actual engagement now since it means that our families will be tied together eventually.”

Rose hummed softly, considering the words silently. Adrian did have less pressure as a second in line but that didn’t mean he was free to move as he pleased. The most essential expectation he would have had when he was planning to wed would be marrying a witch with a name of good standing. Which, if you asked the right circles, the Blacks were. But his father wouldn't be a Dark Pureblood Lord if he didn’t try to squeeze something out of the Black family with this engagement.

“It will be news for just family for the time being,” Adrian told her next as he watched her face for any reason. “But I imagine it won't take long for my father to make an official announcement to other families.”

“To brag?” Rose assumed in an arrogant tone, a teasing grin pulling at her lips that took the sincerity of the emotion out of her words.

Adrian chuckled quietly. “Essentially, yes.”

He pulled out his watch with his free hand and gave a quick look at the time. Whatever he saw had him tucking the box back into his robes and shooting her a faint smile. “Now would be the time to tell our families, since our reservation time is nearly up.”

Rose leaned closer to him across the table and she pointedly said. “You can tell your family on your own, I have no desire to talk to your father. I will tell mine when I get home.”

Adrian nodded his head easily enough, his face amused as it always was when Rose expressed her distaste for dealing with his father. Thankfully he understood the man’s unpleasant personality enough— and didn't harbour that close of a connection to him all together— to not hold her feelings against her.

“I’ll come by tomorrow,” Adrian promised as he stood, pulling her up by the hand he was still holding. “I can’t imagine your family would be displeased in any way.”

“As long as I’m happy, they’re happy,” Rose offered as she let him lead her towards the door. 

Adrian paused before he opened it and turned his attention to her once more. “And you are?” He asked in a rare share of uncertainty. “Happy?”

“Yes,” Rose said without hesitation, a more fond smile gracing her face. “Believe me, if I wasn’t you would know.”

She got a faint huff at that but Adrian’s expression was one of understanding agreement. He pulled her a bit closer and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before he opened the door for them, both prepared to tell their families the news.

By the time Rose stepped through the Floo back into her family home she found herself unable to remove the grin on her face. Thankfully there wasn’t anyone around to bear witness to her attempts and Adrian was already gone back to his apartment. Apparently he needed to stop and grab some things of his mothers that he borrowed before he could head to his father’s manor.

Like always it wasn’t long before Kreacher appeared in front of her, his small body already dipping into a low bow as he welcomed her home. The house-elf frequently made sure to greet her when she arrived home since she and Harry had moved in— well, after he warmed up to them— and when he wasn’t busy with other tasks but ever since Grindelwald’s attack he made sure to meet her at the Floo whenever she returned home, as though he wanted to visibly ascertain that she was in good health.

She gave him a fond smile and took the moment to make sure Jörmy had been fed to which she received a quick assurance he had.

“Where are Harry and Sirius?”

“They are in the living room, Mistress Rose,” Kreacher readily informed her and she shot him one more smile before heading off to find the two, vaguely aware of Kreacher popping out of view at the same time.

As Kreacher relayed, Rose found Harry and Sirius sitting together in the living room. The two were in the middle of a game of Scrabble of all things— something the two refused to play alone with her annoyingly enough. The board was covered with over half the tiles so they were apparently nearing the end of the round and Harry was frowning in concentration at the tiles in front of him.

Sirius glanced up when he heard her approach and he grinned warmly, relief stirring in his eyes at the sight of her. “Hey, Rosie. How was dinner?”

Harry looked over at her distractedly before his focus returned mostly to his tiles, his fingers moving them around as he tried to come up with a word.

“It was great,” Rose said honestly, deciding then to just rip the bandaid off all at once. “Adrian asked me to marry him.” Now she had both of their full attention, their postures straightening abruptly while their eyes widened. “I said yes,” she added somewhat unnecessarily considering their wide eyed stares had already found the ring on her finger.

“Rosie!” Sirius cried out as he stood, his emotional tendencies already having his eyes glassy. “That’s great!” She didn’t have much time to say anything else before Sirius had her wrapped up in a tight grip and Rose watched as Harry approached next with an amused smile.

“I knew you really liked him,” he said pointedly when he caught her eye.

Rose rolled her eyes and patted at Sirius’s back, still wrapped up in the man’s hug. When Sirius spoke again it was with a voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe my baby’s getting married.”

“Do not cry,” Rose said at once.

Harry snorted. “I think that’s too late.”

Yeah, Rose knew there was no chance Sirius wouldn’t get emotional about this, the man always big on letting himself— and them— feel whatever they feel. He was firm against bottling up emotions, had an entire childhood spent doing that to cope, and something he learnt the negative effects about in therapy. As such he had always gone to great lengths to make sure they didn’t feel the need to do just that either.

“You can be as emotional as you want,” Rose conceded somewhat fondly but made a point to tell him. “But you are not allowed to cry when you walk me down the aisle.”

Sirius’ grip tightened around her to an almost impossible degree before he pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. His eyes were shiny and cheeks flushed as he looked at her and said. “I would have thought you’d get Harry to walk you down the aisle.”

Honestly it wasn’t something Rose had considered in the short time she thought the idea over. “Harry would be my maid of honour of course,” she countered aptly and Harry's face lit up.

“I’m in!” He said immediately with a voice filled with an enthusiasm that had her laughing.

Sirius laughed too, releasing Rose’s face as he teased. “I thought the maid of honour was usually a woman.”

“Don’t ruin this for me,” Harry said, swatting at Sirius with a grin before he pulled Rose into his own tight hug of congratulations.

“Typically speaking the maid of honour is the person of most importance to the bride.” Rose recalled when her brother finally let go of her. “That’s Harry. I suppose we could call him the man of honour if you’re really picky about it.” 

Sirius’s expression grew very fond at her words, his eyes no longer teary but filled with emotion nonetheless. “You already planning the big day?”

With a scrunch of her nose, Rose said. “Not really. I plan on it being a long engagement, mainly because I can’t be bothered to actually plan a wedding and don’t feel all that rushed to get married anytime soon.”

Which was true. She was happy to be engaged to Adrian but she felt no rush to actually be married. Her commitment to him would remain the same regardless. 

“I suppose the simple presence of a ring would be enough for you to not have to go cursing any other women from here on out,” Sirius added slyly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

To this day Rose hadn’t actually admitted to cursing Meier. Oh she didn’t deny it outright and her family was smart enough to know she had done it but she hadn’t admitted it either. 

Plausible deniability for them all should it be proven somehow.

The two of them rolled their eyes fondly at her long since repeated words but didn’t press the matter anymore. She was suddenly dragged into another hug by Sirius and this time Harry was looped into it as well. “You’re both growing up so fast,” their godfather said thickly.

Rose hoped the man was getting it all out now, she didn’t want to deal with him getting teary eyed anytime he looked at her for the foreseeable future. He was lucky she was so fond of him and willing to overlook his more emotional tendencies.

She and Harry weren’t exactly the most expressive people at times, even with Sirius’ firm stance on them expressing their emotions freely. Harry’s anger was always his most obvious emotion a lot of the time— though he never hid when he was happy by any means— while Rose hid all her feelings all together. They played things close to the chest most of the time. Years of growing up in a place where a reaction was exactly what the people around them were waiting for— as an excuse to punish them or simply as a means of amusement— leaving them hesitant to do so even now.

“I have to tell Moony!” Sirius suddenly gasped excitedly as he let go of them both. He didn’t leave them a chance to say anything on the matter as he rushed out of the room without a look back.

The twins watched him go in silence before Harry glanced at Rose with a raised brow. “Aren’t you gonna stop him?”

“Eh— it’s getting him out of the room for now,” Rose said in reply which had Harry laughing brightly.

Chapter Text

“I figured it out!”

Rose eyed her brother’s triumphant face as he stood directly in front of the Floo of Potter manor. He had called her on their mirror not even two minutes ago and demanded she come over since he had big news. Ever since the whole Grindelwald thing Harry had taken to spending more time in Potter manor. He was going through all the old files that were still in their grandfather’s office— none of which was really needed but Harry wanted to learn the whole history of their family before taking up the Lordship.

The place was just as large and as nice as Rose remembered though she herself hadn’t been there in quite some time having been distracted with their trip and then her job with the Unspeakables. Harry, in a rare change, was already dragging her to what turned out to be her favourite place as soon as he finished his proclamation.

The library.

She eyed the scattered books lying open in different spots clearly left behind without a second thought as a new idea or breakthrough happened upon their reader. Rose was half amused at Harry’s visible habit of dropping one topic for another on a whim. The shelves had sections of books missing here and there and Rose hoped Harry was keeping track of where everything came from. Mind you, it wouldn’t be that hard to get Kreacher to put everything back to where it should be.

Harry led her over to a small study table— one likely used by their father and his friends in their youth if Sirius’ stories were to go by— where a large old book was waiting. 

Rose eyed the thing as she asked. “What exactly did you figure out?”

He pointed at her rather dramatically. “I figured out who exactly the brothers in the story are.” He spun the book around so she could see it properly and tapped the top of the page. “The Peverell family.”

At the very top there were three names; Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus. Harry read them each out before pausing at the last. “Ignotus is our ancestor.” He pointed to the name Antioch. “As the story says the oldest brother was killed and based on this he never had a family before that.” Then to Cadmus. “Here’s where it gets interesting!” Rose resisted the urge to smile at her brother's obvious enthusiasm. “The middle brother's family name changes here and there over the years before becoming the Gaunts,” Harry told her with a pointed stare.

“Gaunts,” Rose repeated slowly. “Meaning the Dark Lord’s family.”

Harry grinned excitedly. “You believe me now.”

Rolling her eyes, Rose admitted. “A lot of it does line up annoyingly well. I’ve believed it ever since Grindelwald approached me— before that honestly.”

“I don’t know if Grindelwald cares about anything other than the Wand,” Harry offered next as he eyed the family tree in front of them. “He could use the symbol just because it supposedly represents a ‘Master of Death’. Kinda like how Voldemort calls his followers ‘Death Eaters’ even though they don’t actually eat death.”

An involuntary snort left Rose at that but she nodded her head in agreement as she eyed the names as well. The family line in the book must’ve been updated by Potters throughout the centuries but the last of the names ended at Marvolo Gaunt and a matching date that suggested he was Tom’s grandfather. 

“So Tom has the Stone.”

Harry nodded his head at once. “I’m sure of it.”

A soft chiming interrupted them, warning them of the time, and they both shared a glance that simultaneously said they should head home. Sirius had said he would make them lunch which neither one wanted to miss out on.

As they left the library Rose shot her brother a curious look. “How exactly do you plan to prove it for sure?”

Frowning in thought, Harry glanced over at her. “Have you told him about the Hallows?”

“I have,” Rose admitted shamelessly. “Though he seemed a bit skeptical about the whole thing. I think the only reason he didn’t dismiss it entirely was due to Grindelwald and Dumbledore’s supposed belief.”

Harry didn’t say anything to that as they arrived at the Floo and Rose didn’t hesitate to go through first, not wanting to step on her brother’s sprawled form if he went first. Sure enough only a few seconds after Rose vacated the space in front of the Floo at Grimmauld Place Harry came plopping out, landing unceremoniously on the ground.

“You would think you’d get better with practice,” Rose murmured fondly as she eyed his sprawled form. Kreacher appeared with a sharp crack then with his customary greeting as he gave her a quick scan and Rose shot him a smile in return just before he disappeared once more. As she headed down the kitchen she could hear Harry grumbling behind her as he pushed himself to a stand and he was quick to catch up. 

“Can you ask him if he has it?”

Rose didn’t answer as they trotted down the last few stairs and when they stepped into the kitchen Sirius was putting a couple of plates of food down for them. Lunch today was Rose’s favourite she noticed with a pleased smile; a delicious looking clubhouse sandwich with a hearty side of chips. Not far from them were two glasses filled with water.

Their godfather grinned over at the two of them as they each sat down. “I ate while I cooked so you can start. I have something else I wanna finish making,” he added as he moved back towards the kitchen counters.

As Rose tucked into her food her brother followed along at a slower pace. She didn’t have to wait long for him to look up at her. “Please.”

“Nah,” Rose said simply as she tossed some chips into her mouth. 

Harry narrowed his eyes and waited less than three minutes before he demanded. “Ask him.”

Rose paused on a bite of her sandwich before she silently shook her head.

Now his face grew stubborn, his meal mostly untouched as he tried to appeal to her. The whole thing had Rose wanting to smile. “Just ask him,” he said again.

She gave a contemplative hum. “... no.”

The expression on his face now was pure exasperation and Rose ignored it in favour of her meal. “You are so stubborn, you know that, right?” He asked with a faint scowl that had very little heart in it. Honestly, it was so easy to rile up her brother. Especially when a mystery was on the line. High odds were Rose would ask Tom about the Stone, didn’t see what it would hurt to do so, but she wanted to have a bit of fun first.

Rose finally looked over at Harry. “First of all, that word is pronounced ‘wonderful’, and yes, I do know that. I get told it quite often really.”

She got a scoff of disbelief. “Name one person in our entire lives who described you as ‘wonderful’.”

“I’m sure Sirius has at some point,” Rose countered with a glance over at the man in question.

Grinning fondly, Sirius said. “Of course, Rosie. There’s no one more wonderful.”

She shot a smug look over at Harry and he shook his head. “Sirius doesn’t count,” he said and as Rose shot him a ‘why not’ look he followed up with. “I’ve heard him describe you as a ‘sociable young lady’.”

“And he’d be right to,” she retorted loftily. “I’m a regular social butterfly. You couldn’t shut me up during our Hogwarts days.” Harry’s face then was a true delight to see, an array of emotions painted across his face going from exasperation to fond-amusement. 

“Why are you like this?”

Rose finally smirked and reached over for her drink. “My latest theory is that maybe I am in fact Merlin’s gift to the people.” She raised the cup to her mouth and paused just before drinking it to add. “Either way you should all feel blessed to have me in your lives.”

Harry rolled his eyes more fondly now while Sirius huffed. “Merlin, Rosie, you really are your father’s daughter sometimes.”

She shot him a cheeky smile as she put her drink down, hardly the first time he commented on her likeness to their dad and always feeling something unmistakably warm in her chest whenever it happened. Same with when it came to comparisons to their mum.

“Speaking of fathers,” Sirius said suddenly, his voice more deliberately light in a way that had her narrowing her eyes. “Rosie, Lord Pucey is throwing an engagement party for his son and you.”

Now Rose had a frown as she looked over at the man sharply. “What?”

Her brother’s face slowly morphed into a grin. “An engagement party,” he repeated delightedly. “Where you’ll be the guest of honour. Can you imagine how many people you’re gonna have to talk to?”

Rose scowled over at him, her earlier amusement at messing with him quickly vanishing and she didn't hesitate to flick her fingers in his direction, keeping a hand up to keep his amused expression out of her view as she looked back at Sirius. She was absently aware of Harry’s hands coming up to his now magically sealed mouth but ignored it for the time being.

“Why does there have to be a party?” She asked Sirius incredulously. “It’s bad enough they released an article in the Daily Prophet— on the front page nonetheless! We’re at times of war surely there’s more important news to relay.”

That had been irritating to see, the large proclamation of one of the Twins-Who-Lived getting married. It didn’t help that Sirius saved the article, the sentimental man that he was.

Sirius' face was painted in understanding but equally unrelenting. “It’s tradition.”

She had a feeling she’d be hearing a lot of that phrase in the years to come and she was hard pressed not to groan as a frown pulled at her mouth. “I’m inviting whoever I want then,” Rose said pointedly, her face growing as stubborn as Harry’s had been just a few minutes ago. “All the Weasleys. Hermione. Remus.”

“Of course,” Sirius promised straight away. “It’s your engagement party, you’ll have a say.”

“Can I make the dress code ‘Muggle-attire-only’?”

Her godfather looked decidedly less understanding— though she could tell he was amused— as he said. “Rosie, you’re marrying into this family. Maybe going out of your way to antagonize your future in-laws is not the way to go.”

She couldn’t help but scoff at that. “I’m not marrying into their family. I’m allowing their son to marry into our family. Clearly he’s getting the better end of the deal here.”

Sirius turned most of his attention back to the task he had been working on while the twins ate and it was with a fond smile that he said. “Regardless, it will be in exactly one month. On the third of August.”

Rose sighed, glancing down at her mostly finished meal. She pushed herself to a stand and grabbed her plate. “Well this just ruined my whole day.” 

She moved away from the table and Sirius silently nodded for her to put her dish down on the empty counter near him and just as she was about to leave Harry knocked sharply on the tabletop to get her attention. When she raised a brow at him he waved his hands emphatically to his mouth with a pointed look. Rose only frowned and tapped her ear with a mockingly confused expression before she grinned and turned to leave.

“Rosie.”

Reluctantly she turned back around and Sirius gave her a pointed look. She let her eyes flicker off towards Harry and back to their godfather. “Really, he’s better like this.”

He gave a huff of amusement that had Harry looking at him with betrayal but Sirius only said her name once more. Finally Rose rolled her eyes and turned to leave again, but not before flicking her fingers in Harry’s direction one last time. 

She was climbing up the stairs as Harry called out. “I hate when you do that one!” And in a quieter voice he told Sirius. “It always leaves my mouth feeling fuzzy afterwards.”

Just before she was out of hearing range she heard Sirius’ amused tone as he said. “Maybe don’t go antagonizing her then.” 

Harry's responding laugh had her smiling fondly to herself despite recent news.

The meeting table in the Dark Lord Voldemort’s manor had every chair filled, each one by one of the illustrious members of his inner circle. The customary act of relaying missions and information was a steady thing and Tom himself was paying close attention to each and every word. There had been an increase in battles lately, not in large public scales but rather small and crucial ones in terms of gaining and losing followers as well as critical moves that would help out in the long run.

One of his latest missions was currently being broken down by Travers and it had not had the results he was hoping for.

He still had yet to figure out who around this table was a spy but he would begin rolling out a plan that should reveal them within less than a year. Tom would prefer faster results but he couldn’t afford alienating the allies he did have, especially ones with the skill sets his inner circle had. It still sent a seething rage through him to know he had a traitor, the only time before that was Severus himself and Tom had been a bodiless vapor for the majority of his treachery and then too mad to realise where his allegiances were. Once he knew he was able to take care of it swiftly and firmly.

Not like now.

But he had full confidence he would catch whoever it was that was whispering into Grindelwald’s ear. When he did he would make them regret the day they were born.

Tom had also had a select few of his lower rank followers— ones he was certain in the loyalty of due to their connections to him or his most loyal— and had them keeping a close eye on the foreign joiners. Lucius was overseeing all that at the moment though so Tom put it to the back of his mind for now.

No Tom’s attention was needed for a far more pressing manner. Soon enough the battles would turn into full fledged fights, with Grindelwald staging larger and larger attacks and Tom needed to prepare now for those days. Which meant— 

“Severus,” Tom said so suddenly that it made a few of his more anxious of followers flinch but the man in question only turned his attention to Tom at once. “I believe it is time for you to retire from your position at Hogwarts.” Severus' expression hardly changed at the demand, barring a faint glint in his eyes that told Tom he was pleased with this news. Not that Tom was surprised, Severus has long since hated his job at Hogwarts. “I want you to begin preparing the potions you can in bulk. Healing ones and anything else you feel we may need on hand whenever Grindelwald decides to make a more upfront move against us.”

“Of course, My Lord,” Severus agreed at once.

This wasn’t a decision that Tom had considered lightly, he had weighed the pros and cons for a great deal of time but eventually decided on this direction. A figure in Hogwarts was no longer necessary, not with the detour the war had taken following Grindelwald’s escape, and it was a waste of Severus’ talents. He had followers on the Board of Governors anyways, so if the need arose he was confident in his ability to squeeze someone onto the Hogwarts staff.

Tom’s eyes flickered across the table and lingered on Bella as another thought crossed his mind.

The woman had always been appalled by the fact that one of the Potter twins held the Black heirship— determinedly ignoring the fact the Rose Potter could be considered a Pureblood due to Black’s Blood Adoption— but apparently her ire had been more appeased with the girl’s recent engagement to the Pucey heir. Though Bella never would consider any other family worthy enough for a Black, the fact that it was an openly Dark— and loyal to the Dark Lord— family had her willing to accept the recent news. Not that her anger of disapproval would have changed anything, though she did still have her moments when the Black Madness would try to cloud her judgement so Tom kept a close eye no matter what.

Truthfully speaking Tom had been surprised that Rose Potter had agreed to wed. He would have thought her above such things. Then again he believed Bella to be above them in her youth. Not comparable situations he supposed since Bella had been married off by her father much like many witches in their circles and Potter was choosing to get married. Regardless it seemed Alexander Pucey’s heir had managed to win her favour but it still amused Tom to know that the man was likely still thinking he could squeeze something out of the Black family—

Or squeeze his heir into the position of Lord Black.

Tom dispelled his trailing thoughts in favour of another topic with ease. “Lucius, have you heard anything else of note lately.”

“There are whispers of the Potter twins’ Muggleborn trying to rally for the reinstatement of wizarding holidays,” Lucius informed him readily.

That was surprising to hear and Tom absently wondered if Rose Potter had anything to do with that development.

“What would a Mudblood know about our traditions,” came a voice from further down the table. 

Unlike Lucius and a few others the man who spoke had no issue still referring to Potter’s Muggleborn as a Mudblood. Though the others had no issue with calling the masses just that, when it came to Hermione Granger they held the word back largely due to the contract's guidelines. Not that the word would break the agreements he made but Tom supposed they wanted to show they were respecting his deal with the two.

It was with great effort that Tom resisted rolling his eyes at Yaxley’s derisive comment to begin with. He himself faced the same prejudice for not knowing what they had all been taught growing up. Despite not having access to any information on the subject.

“One would think them attempting to learn our customs would be a good thing,” Severus offered in a silky voice.

Which is why he thought Potter had her hand in her little friend’s recent crusade. He had learnt ages ago from Lucius via Narcissa— and spoke with the girl himself heavily on the subject since then— that Rose Potter thought highly of magical traditions. That she insisted on celebrating them even though Black himself had sworn them off in his youth.

“So they get to openly learn and practice these customs yet we are forced to keep quiet about it because of them,” Nott spat out in turn.

Tom wouldn’t do anything about the Muggleborn’s plans, he decided as a few of his followers exchange barbs on the subject. Ironically enough he had been planning to push forward the same ideas as well now that Bones was Minister of Magic. The added bonus of the war they were currently in meant it would have people not so focused on nitpicking the idea he’d soon spout forward and should this project make headway it would appease his more impatient of followers.

“No one said we had to keep quiet on it,” Lucius cut in with a drawl. “It’s only the more cowardly families who do so, so afraid of the Ministry’s criticism that they bow to the pressure of their expectations.”

Tom cut into his inner circle’s growing squabble. “We’ll leave the girl as is. A Mudblood pushing this forward will only make our upcoming proposals more viable since it’s their precious sensibilities the Ministry likes to claim they are protecting.” It was with that deciding declaration that he changed the topic once more. “I'd like more scouting missions to take place in foreign parties.”

There were multiple murmured agreements and a few started offering different events they knew were coming up. Despite the recent attack Grindelwald raged on the Germany party there wasn’t much of a cut back on parties for international events. While the number of parties was almost always a large one, the ones that were open to wizards and witches of all countries were significantly smaller. Add in the fact that traveling between places would only get more difficult as the war went on, Tom wanted to get the ball rolling sooner rather than later.

“Send our younger recruits,” Tom ordered firmly. 

Older Purebloods were known to be set in their ways and would stand out at events they wouldn’t normally attend. The younger crowds were more open to trying new things and should blend in better. He’d have to pick out more approvable ones, maybe a few of the foreign ones paired with ones he knew were loyal. Another benefit of using younger followers is that people tended to flock by age group and it was the younger generations who were more open to gossip to strangers, not having yet gained the paranoia that their elders had.

“What of the Order’s moves,” he prompted next, sparing the brief thought that he wished he still had Severus listening in on them.

A likely impossible idea in hindsight. Dumbledore was the only one who truly trusted Severus— and even that was due to an Unbreakable Vow Tom had learnt— and Moody had seen the end of their tentative alliance the second the old man dropped dead. At best he’d keep Severus around to try to get information from him which Tom wouldn’t allow.

When he had a list of the newer members who joined the Order’s cause he would begin looking into each of them for who could be swayed or blackmailed. The Order's odds of winning looked rather grim with not one but two Dark Lords, and while people might be convinced to join for the right reasons, Tom always found when the chips fell down and life looked bleak, people would show their true colours.

It's how he got Pettigrew after all, the cowardly rat that he was.

He’d have Severus keep an eye on the Order alongside his potions, he above anyone else at this table had the best odds of predicting their irritating moves. He’d leave Barty open for scouting should Severus had need of him, the man was exceptionally good at that, speaking of which—

“I have a good idea of who has joined up and I’ve been following a few of them,” Barty offered in a cheery voice and he grinned over at Tom. “I’m certain in what one of their next plans of action is, my Lord.”

Tom raised an amused brow. “Tell me.”

Harry was being followed. 

He knew for a fact he was being followed. One didn’t survive as many attempts on their life as he has without developing a certain sixth sense on the matter. Or perhaps his hyper-vigilancy began as a child, honed in through years of avoiding Dudley and his friends as they tried to bother him and his sister. Either way, Harry caught on rather quickly to the fact that he was being followed.

It started back before the whole Grindelwald mess actually, though not nearly as obviously. It was simply a few people openly watching him either when he was out and about or at a party— in a different way than the majority did at least, a calculating way. After the reveal of the Prophecy it got more obvious, though maybe they got more obvious because the odds of actually seeing him anywhere dipped considerably since he and Rose didn’t want to be out much. He mentioned a few of the people he saw to Remus a while back and he confirmed that some were Order members that he remembered and others were people he could see being recruited.

Harry was content to ignore them though, made easier by not actually being all that sociable. Only thing was now he wanted to be sociable, a bit tired of being cooped up for too long and not favouring solitude as much as his sister did.

Also there were the letters.

The letters he’s guessing arrived because they were tired of waiting to run into him in public. Or perhaps they were tired of waiting to try and enact whatever plans they were all concocting. Said letters were all addressed to Harry alone which wasn’t that surprising to him and Rose. He ignored them for the most part— most he imagined wouldn’t get delivered unless he was at Potter manor due to the wards around Grimmauld Place— but then some had gone to Ron.

As understanding as his friend was, even he seemed to be getting irritated with the whole thing now.

So when the last letter came along, asking Harry to meet up in a room at the Leaky Cauldron to talk, he finally agreed. More than ready to tell the lot of them to sod off. He understood why they were being so pushy but he also figured the Order was filled with enough adults to know the meaning of the word no. Even if it wasn’t explicitly stated. The fact that the twins avoided Dumbledore back when he was alive should have been enough.

So Harry was at the Leaky Cauldron— along with Rose.

He imagined they wouldn't be too happy he brought her but honestly they’d be stupid if they thought he wouldn’t.

Tom the barkeep gave them a polite wave when he saw them before making a vague gesture to the rooms and holding up three fingers. Whoever in the Order booked the room must’ve told him Harry was coming. So, following the silent instruction, Harry ducked into the small hall that led to some of the rooms and found the door with a three stamped on the outside of it.

The room they walked into was a bit different from the ones Harry has been in before. Instead being a simple room with just a bedroom and dresser place this one was more of a suite.  There was a small bedroom area to their right and a small living room area on the other side. The largeness of the room didn’t distract much from the rather dour decor and atmosphere of the Leaky Cauldron though. The two couches the room had had been pushed to the side and one of the Order members must have summoned or transfigured a table and an assortment of chairs for this meeting, both of which sat on the centre of the living room's rug.

There were five chairs on the opposite side of the table, all of which were occupied, and one empty one the side nearest him and Rose.

In the centre chair was Moody— the new leader of the Order according to Remus— on his right was Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore while on his left was Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle. The only reason Harry knew the last three was because they were some of the ones who would approach him lately. He idily wondered who else was in the Order. Who they might have recruited with the uproar of two Dark Lords coming back with a violent bang. Harry could think of a few names but he didn’t think putting faces to the group would help ease his occasional worries.

“You were told to come alone,” Moody said first off in a gruff voice.

“You should be happy he came at all. Get on with it.”

Moody’s face grew sour— when wasn’t it though?— at Rose’s retort and Kingsley gestured placatingly to the lone seat in front of them with a silent request. 

Harry glanced at Rose and could tell she wanted to smile in amusement at their little show. While he went to sit down Rose crossed to examine the rest of the room curiously since this was their first time seeing one like it. Moody looked at Harry directly but his magical eye was more focused on his sister. “You know why we called you here,” he grumbled out.

“I’m not getting involved.”

“This war is getting worse,” Kingsley chimed in deeply. “You can help.”

It was exactly what Harry expected and despite knowing what this conversation would be about it did little to assuage the irritation he felt about their actions. He let out a scoff. “Because of that stupid prophecy? My answer is the same.”

“Dumbledore is gone,” Jones proclaimed beseechingly. “And with him goes all the aid he was able to give us.”

Now it was Rose’s turn to scoff in the background and a few of them glanced over at her but Harry was undeterred on his stance.

“Dumbledore believed in the Prophecy,” Podmore told him frankly. “He had us protect it because it was what he thought would help us win this war.” Sturgis Podmore likely held the Prophecy to a certain heavy regard, mainly for the fact that the man had spent a few months in Azkaban after getting caught in the Department of Mysteries during the twins' fifth year. Not taking the thing into consideration at all had to have that feeling like time wasted.

“Well clearly he thought wrong,” Harry retorted unsympathetically, wanting this conversation to be over and done with now.

There were frowns at that and Moody said. “Dumbledore mentioned he was hoping to be able to teach you a few things that might have helped you with getting rid of Voldemort.”

“Funny you’d say that,” Rose remarked idily, drumming her fingers along a dresser. “Considering Sirius made it clear he was not to come near us unless he wanted charges pressed against him.” She glanced over at Shacklebolt. “Surely, as an Auror, you told him not to do such a thing.”

Moody’s stare didn’t flinch as he told Harry. “We need to know whatever Dumbledore might have told you.”

Harry leaned forward and spoke as clearly as possible. “We’re. Not. Getting. Involved.”

Honestly, Harry had long since gotten tired of the adults around him expecting him to solve their problems. Dumbledore had been the worst of them all, silently watching as they struggled to put the pieces together all while he had the whole picture in front of him the whole time. He thought with the war now in full effect these people would realise that the time for relying on things like prophecies was a thing of the past. If they wanted to win they needed actual plans of actions, not hopes pinned on the words of a woman who could barely teach Divination without having the room filled with incense and being a bottle deep into sherry.

“There was a time you would have,” Moody said boldly. “And I think you would now too, if not for—” He didn’t finish his sentence but he didn’t need to, not with the way his other eye was focused solely on Rose. 

Kingsley clasped his hands in front of himself. “There comes a time when one has to choose between doing what is easy and what is right.”

Harry huffed at that, his jaw clenching. “Listen. I spent the ten years before I re-entered the magical world being told I was a freak. Being locked up for weeks on end. Being denied food. Not even having a bloody bedroom. And no matter how you spin that, it was Dumbledore who put me there with the people who did all that. And when I finally got into the magical world, met all these people, and told Dumbledore about what was going on, he— Sent. Me. Back. And for the next three years I was thrown headfirst in these life-or-death situations where Dumbledore was always nowhere to be found!”

Admittedly Harry went looking for a lot of them too but if the adults around them had done what they were supposed to do then he wouldn’t have felt the need to get as involved as he tried to be. So many of those issues Dumbledore could have handled easily and yet he chose not to.

His eyes darted to each of the Order members at the table and he steeled his expression. “The only person who got me through all that was my sister. So listen to me closely when I say this. You wanna talk about ‘choices’? Choosing between what is easy and what is right? Well, I choose Rose. And I’ll keep choosing Rose until we are the last ones left on this planet if I have to.” He pushed himself up abruptly, determination straightening his spine and his hands clenched at his sides. “So we really have nothing to talk about.”

With those final words Harry turned to the door, not even a little worried about watching his back as he knew Rose had her eyes steadily trained on them. The two left without hesitation, Rose happily swinging the door shut behind them as she went, and they didn’t waste any time in crossing to the Floo inside the Leaky Cauldron.

(Offering a wave of farewell to Tom the barkeep as they went.)

It was quiet when they got home, only the crack of Kreacher coming to check on them as they arrived and the crack of him leaving when he saw with his own eyes that they were in good-health. Sirius was over at Narcissa’s and had said he was going to Andy’s for supper after that if they wanted to join. Both twins had elected out, mainly because they didn’t know how long they’d be held up by the Order.

As they climbed up the stairs to their bedroom Harry quietly asked. “Does this make us bad people?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “The Order is full of adults perfectly capable of fighting.”

“It doesn't sound like they know anything about the you-know-whats,” Harry said contemplatively. In fact it didn’t sound like they knew much of anything— barring the Prophecy, which they only knew because Fudge spilled the beans.

“It’s not our fault that Dumbledore was so distrusting and unrelenting with his information that he didn’t think to let even a single one of his followers know how to properly kill the Dark Lord— and one sixteen year old child doesn’t count.” Rose told him point blank as they reached their floor. “If he had been willing to relinquish his knowledge to even one of the adults under his ‘command’ then they wouldn’t be feeling so hopeless right now.”

As Rose plopped down onto her bed, Harry silently joining her, he couldn’t help but agree with what she said. 

Dumbledore made the choice to only tell Harry— why, beyond the whole Prophecy mess, he will never know— about the Horcruxes. He had an entire team of people willing to fight for him and his cause and he didn’t confide in any of them. 

Surely he trusted some of them? He left Moody in charge in the event of his death— or maybe Moody had simply assumed leadership as the one with arguably the most experience. Even if he didn’t want to tell them outright while he was alive— which he should have since he knew for a fact he was dying— he could have at least written it out somewhere. Left a note to be handed out in a will of some kind. But he didn’t. In the end, instead of sharing what he learnt over the years, all his theories he carefully taught Harry over the course of a year, he didn’t say a word to his followers. Instead Dumbledore stayed quiet and chose to take the rest of his theories and knowledge with him to the grave.

And honestly— what good would it do him now? What good would it do anyone?

Chapter Text

“I think it’s important we set up a meeting— now that our families will soon join together.”

Sirius resisted the urge to sigh as he made his way across the main floor of the Ministry of Magic, the Floo’s thankfully now in sight. Trailing alongside him was Alexander Pucey pushing the same agenda he had been pushing since he learnt his son was engaged to Rose. The odd person here and there along the way, that he had yet to run into before today, offered Sirius a congratulations for his family’s latest news and he smiled back politely and shook a hand when it was offered.

He wasn’t surprised at Pucey’s attempts, to be honest he had long since expected it if things with Rose and Adrian actually turned serious. From the man making sure everyone knew his son was going to marry into the Black family to trying to squeeze whatever benefits he could out of the ordeal despite it not being a typical betrothal situation that most Pureblood marriages were. Didn’t make it any less tiresome to deal with though.

“I told you, Lord Pucey,” Sirius said with the most neutral tone he could manage at the moment. “Rosie and Adrian are choosing to marry out of their own free will. There are no negotiations born of familial expectations here. I wouldn’t expect anything from the Pucey family any more than you should expect from the Blacks.”

Pucey had a sour look on his face, a growingly familiar sight to Sirius, but thankfully the man’s attention was called by someone just then. Sirius took the opportunity for what it was and slipped into the shortest line at the Floo’s and in only a few short seconds he was stepping into Grimmauld Place. 

He knew the man would try again, unsuccessfully, just as he knew the man would eventually let it be. Simply the act of tying their families together would be a big boon for the Pucey family. While old and renowned for their lack of Squibs, the Pucey’s still weren’t considered a noble— and certainly not an ancient— house. Maybe if Adrian were the first in line he would have been more unrelenting with things, perhaps even cancelled the engagement all together, but since Adrian was— as the more cutthroat of Purebloods would say— the spare, Alexander would be more willing to let things be. Not to say he wouldn’t give it another try, he wouldn’t be a Slytherin— nor the Lord of a Dark family— if he didn’t.

Adrian had also made a point to speak to Sirius himself, after the announcements had been made and most people had known, and he had assured Sirius that he wanted nothing more than Rose’s hand. That he respected her greatly, had for years during their friendship, and that even her just agreeing to marry him was more than he would have dared to hope for. The whole conversation had Sirius feeling rather emotional but contrary to Rose’s belief he could hold it together at times.

He just chose not to when he was with the twins.

Regardless, Sirius wasn’t that annoyed to be dealing with the pestering of Alexander Pucey. The joy of what was to come was enough to get him through it with ease. Rose’s engagement party would be taking place on the third of August and Sirius had a more pressing concern on hand— what kind of gift to get them. It was that very concern that had him heading straight for the twins’ room upon returning home.

He wanted to get the couple a gift together of course but he also wanted to give Rose something as well, just for her. Rose was a hard person to buy for— at least when you took books out of the occasion which Sirius would be doing— and he found over the years that it was best just to ask her outright what she would like.

Both the twins’ doors were open when he reached their floor and Sirius didn’t hesitate to go towards Rose’s. They were both sprawled in their little living room area between their bedrooms when he found them. Harry had one leg looped around the back of the couch he was on, the other resting on its armrest and his head was dangerously close to falling off the edge of the seat itself and Rose was in a more cozy chair, both legs over one arm and her head on the other while Jörmy was curled all around her. Harry was reading aloud from a book in his hands and Rose was gazing around at nothing in particular as she listened to him.

“Hello, my darlings!”

He got two matching smiles to his cheery greeting as he plopped down on the open area beside Harry. The warm feeling in his chest he got whenever these two were happy to see him quick to bloom, a feeling that hasn’t dulled in the slightest over their years together.

Sirius turned his attention to Rose first and foremost. “We need to discuss some engagement things,” he disclosed firmly. The words had her frowning while Harry started reading his book again, this time silently.

“I thought the Puceys were planning things.”

“They’re doing the party,” Sirius assured her at once. “This is about the gifts people will bring.”

“I don’t need gifts,” Rose stated plainly.

With a faint huff of amusement Sirius told her. “It’s—

“— Tradition,” both twins said as one.

Grinning now, Sirius rolled his eyes and said. “Typically speaking there’s usually a list given out to any guests; it would have what the couple might like to receive as a gift.”

Rose had a scowl on her face but she relented rather quickly and began to ponder over the question. “I don’t need gifts—” and before Sirius could press the matter she said “—so I want any guests who wish to give a gift to instead make a donation to a charity. I’ll provide an appropriate list of charities they can choose from.”

Harry glanced over at her and Sirius couldn’t say he was surprised but it was something close. He shouldn't have been considering what Rose suggested she and Harry do with their lawsuit money a few years back. The James and Lily Potter Raising a Better Tomorrow Foundation had been a thing of reality for a few months now and already a few families had applied and the upcoming school year would be the first one since everything was finalised. For all her preaching about not getting involved with the issues of the magical world and not caring about anyone outside of those closest to her, Rose did give back a lot to the magical community. She was just sneaky about it.

“Alright,” Sirius said with a proud smile. “I imagine there won’t be a lot who can complain about that.” He also imagined Rose wouldn’t let them just donate to some prejudice cause which was likely why she said she’d provide a list of charities of her choosing. “Now what about my gift?”

Rose frowned. “I just said it.”

Sirius shook his head. “I’ll donate somewhere for you and Adrian but I’d like to get something more personal for you alone.”

Eyeing him in silence, Rose eventually asked. “Why?”

“My baby’s getting married, of course I want to get her something special.”

Harry huffed a soft but fond laugh at that as he turned his attention back to his book but Sirius didn’t look away from Rose as he watched her expression soften at his words. As she considered the question over, Sirius nudged Harry into a more proper position. His back and neck were hurting just looking at him. 

“What happened to Privet Drive and everything there?”

The question surprised not only Sirius but Harry too, both of them sitting upright with looks of incomprehension; something she only met with a raised brow.

“All the personal items— photos, furniture, even their family car— were all put into a Muggle storage facility by the Ministry. It was all given to your cousin when he came of age, as well as everything his parents had in their bank accounts upon their arrest.”

The Ministry of Magic had wanted to seize the latter when the end of trial had come in the August that followed the twins’ removal from the home but Sirius refused. He didn’t need the money, nor did Harry and Rose, and he didn’t want anyone thinking that money of all things would at all make up for the way they were treated. The Ministry of Magic offered a compromise in the end because they felt the twins were due something.

“Privet Drive was put under numerous wards so the Muggles wouldn’t take note of it but legally speaking it belongs to the two of you. It’s up to you what you want to do with it,” Sirius informed them both steadily.

“Really?” Harry said in surprise, his book now mostly abandoned in favour of the current line of conversation.

Sirius glanced over at him. “Yes,” he replied at once before looking over at Rose who looked more pleased.

He didn’t have to wait long to hear what she was thinking as she said. “For my engagement gift I want to burn down Privet Drive.”

Now Harry looked at Rose. “Why?”

“It would make me happy to see that place go up in flames,” Rose offered with a simple one-shoulder shrug. “I would rather the Dursleys still be inside when it happens but I’ll pick my battles.” The look Harry shot her next had her saying, “I’m kidding,” in a not very ‘kidding’ voice. 

Sirius' lips quirked up in a faint smile. He wasn’t too surprised at the request, though he hadn’t really expected it either. He had always known Rose would go back to Privet Drive one day, if only to make peace with the terrible past she had with it. He had done the same with Grimmauld Place but where he rebuilt it into something new and unrecognisable in all the ways that mattered, Rose simply wanted to be done with it all together.

Which he would support fully.

“Alright,” he said. “We’ll do that next week sometime. I’ll have to check with Amelia to make sure there aren’t any complications for when we do it.”

Rose grinned at his words and nodded once while Harry just looked ready to go along with whatever they wanted. Still, Sirius shot him a questioning look as he double checked. “Are you okay with this?”

Harry snorted. “I don't care what happens to the place. I just wasn’t expecting Ro’ to wanna burn it down.” He looked over at her and said. “Though I probably should have.” Rose only sent him an uncharacteristic wink that had him laughing brightly while Sirius silently nodded his head, already starting to think over what he needed to do in order to make this happen.

It took just over a week and a half to finalise everything for Rose’s engagement gift from Sirius— eleven days to be exact— but they were finally doing.

Sirius had never seen exactly what the house the twins grew up in looked like. The first time he came to the street of Privet Drive he hadn’t even had to go down the lane before the twins came storming up the street, having just run away, and then the two had left on the Knight Bus so he left too. Then he was on the run and couldn’t afford to come nearby and the twins were eventually removed from the Dursley's custody in their fourth year and he got custody of them shortly after. After all that the twins had been ready to leave the place in the past.

As he looked at the place now only one word came to mind; mundane .

It was like every other house down the street. A simple two story home painted a simple colour that didn't stand out or draw attention to itself. With a large window where the living was likely to be and a small set of stairs leading up to the front door. The shutters were a neutral blue and the shingles on the roof a dark grey.

Just like every other house on the street.

“I never thought I’d see this place again,” Harry remarked from the other side of Rose. Both twins were standing on his left, their hands clasped together rather unsurprisingly, as the three of them took in the house the twins grew up in. Harry glanced over at his sister and commented in a casual voice. “Remember when you fell off the roof.”

There was a scoff. “That wasn’t my fault. They were the morons who made a nine year old clean the gutters in early spring. The frost made it slippery.”

Sirius shot them both a sharp look. “Were you hurt?”

“No,” Harry said as he shook his head and glanced back at the house. “She just floated to the ground. We got in trouble for that. We weren’t allowed to go anywhere for a week.”

With that charming reveal Rose moved forward, dragging Harry alongside her while Sirius trailed behind them both. The three stepped across the grassy front lawn then onto the small stone path and finally the base of the steps leading up to the front door. Rose seemed to be taking a very ‘get it over with’ approach as she swiftly pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The place was empty. Just as Sirius said everything had been cleared out for Dudley Dursley and the only lighting was from the sun shining through the empty windows. It was more than enough for them to see the place properly given it was just after midday. The few shadows only made the place seem more deserted and their footsteps echoed in the open area. There was an archway that led to what must have been the living room on their left— and Sirius could see a plain fireplace from where he was standing— and an open door directly down the short entry hall that revealed a few kitchen countertops and cupboards and directly on his right was a staircase.

Harry crossed over towards the kitchen area but stopped at a small door tucked underneath the staircase. He opened his mouth to say something before hesitating and glancing at Sirius.

“Rosie already told me about the cupboard,” Sirius offered softly. 

It wasn’t until that moment that he realised Harry himself had never acknowledged where the twins had been made to sleep for the first ten years they spent here. The boy had been all for pretending all of his life at the Dursleys never really happened, blatantly ignoring the more ugly parts and only making comments in rather darkly humorous moments.

A quality Sirius knew both twins got from him.

Harry didn’t say anything to Sirius’ words but opened the cupboard while Rose wandered into the living room. “It’s so much smaller than I remembered,” he said as he gave it a scan and his head darted upwards. “I’m gonna go check if there’s still anything in our secret hideaway.”

He was quick to cross to the stairs, Sirius sidestepping at once so he wasn’t in the way, and as Harry took the steps by twos, Rose called. “Why would you even want anything from it? It’s been six years.”

“It’s the principal!” Harry yelled from upstairs. 

Sirius took that moment to cross to the kitchen, unable to help as his eyes strayed to the small cupboard as he passed by it and the swell of rage that stirred in his chest at the sight. The kitchen itself was rather small, with a counter in an L shape that separated the kitchen from the dining room. He noted the large crack on the diving counter and wondered what happened there, from what he knew of the Dursleys they were rather picky about their surroundings looking perfect.

“Of all the times I imagined that cupboard I hadn’t pictured it so small,” Sirius couldn't help but remark as he continued to eye the room, his eyes darting to the glass doors that led out to the backyard and he stepped into the dining room.

Rose glanced over her shoulder at him from the living room and she shrugged. “The placement had its positives,” she offered. “We were close enough to the kitchen that we could sneak some food.”

He resisted the urge to balk at the idea of his kids needing to sneak food. This was all stuff he knew, between the trial itself and the offhanded comments the twins would offer over the years, but it didn’t make it easier to acknowledge. 

“When we were about five, Harry and I learnt that if we pressed our hands against the cupboard door and wished hard enough the locks would open,” Rose told him as she continued to walk around. Her fingers were trailing along the fireplace mantle and Sirius noted the small runes she was leaving behind, his eyes instinctively darting to where she already had been and spotting a few others. “Petunia started to catch on eventually so we had to be more careful. She kept track of what was in the cupboards and fridge but they never checked the trash though.”

Sirius’ head darted back to her at that and as if sensing his look Rose glanced over at him and grinned wryly. “Don’t underestimate just what a hungry kid would be willing to eat after days with no food.”

She moved closer to the kitchen now, stepping into the dining room first as she continued adding runes to places here and there. “Our relatives were at times wasteful— or at least Petunia was. She once threw away a bag of apples because one was bruised.” As Rose began tracing a rune onto the countertop she told him. “There were six perfectly good apples in the bag. So me and Harry took them. We had three each and ate them all in one sitting. It was probably the fullest we had ever been in our entire lives… we were nine.” 

He swallowed back the furious and frustrated feeling in his throat at her words, watching on in silence as Rose moved back towards the stairs.

“We once managed to sneak a piece of cake for ourselves. We wrapped it up and put it in the garbage when no one was looking and dug it back out later that night. It wasn’t anywhere near our birthday but we still sang, quietly of course, and until Hagrid brought us one when we turned eleven that was the only cake we ever remembered having.”

They were climbing the stairs now, Sirius steps slow and quiet as he followed Rose on her trek of adding runes to wherever she could. The staircase was rather narrow, the house itself being the same, taller than it was wide. As they reached to top landing Rose pointed out each of the rooms to him; Vernon and Petunia’s, Dudley’s, the bathroom, the guest bedroom and—

The twins’ room.

She put a rune on each door and as she waltzed into what was once her and Harry’s bedroom Sirius paused to stare at the assortment of locks on the outside of the door frame and then at the dog door fixated to the bottom. When he got into the room Harry was sitting on the floor next to a pulled up floorboard. There were various wizarding treats strewn around him and a deck of Exploding Snap cards.

“Why the dog door?”

“So they could feed us without actually having to open the door,” Rose informed him helpfully.

Harry grinned. “We chose to look on the positive side, at least it meant there was a chance at food.”

He was not nearly as positive thinking and Sirius listened through the pounding in his ears as Rose asked Harry if he was ready. Harry was quick to nod his head and jump back to a stand, reaching down to swipe up the deck of cards and leaving the rest behind. Sirius followed him out of the room while Rose lingered long enough to do what she needed to do. When the three exited the small hellish house Harry and Sirius moved back up the small pathway and grass to where they had first arrived while Rose started circling the outside of the house by herself. Stopping here and there just as she had inside.

Letting out a slow breath, Sirius looked at Harry. “Do you still think about this place?”

“Not so much now.”

Sirius made an almost silent noise of understanding as he eyed the house once more. “You said once that your lives here got better after you returned to the magical world.”

Tilting his head, Harry slowly murmured. “‘Better’ is a bit subjective. We got a room— which was definitely better— after we got out Hogwarts letters, since our relatives were paranoid about being watched. After that they mostly stuck to locking us in our room and not feeding us everyday.” He paused and then added in a more cheery voice. “Though our last year was good because they were scared our big bad godfather would come murder them if we weren’t treated right.”

He barked out a laugh at that and glanced over at an unrepentantly grinning Harry. The humour didn’t last long though as his face grew solemn again. “But they never laid a hand on you after that— after you got your letters,” he said, remembering Rose’s words that first summer he had the twins.

Harry frowned and his brows furrowed. “Only once,” he replied honestly. “The night we ran away from here actually, when we first saw you— or dog-you.” Sirius watched as he looked over at the house again. “Vernon’s sister had come to visit, an awful woman really, and she was saying a bunch of stuff about Mum and Dad… I didn’t mean to do it but I got so angry and she wound up swelling up like a balloon and started floating around the room.” He glanced at Sirius briefly. “Vernon wanted me to put her back.”

“So he hurt you.”

Now Harry shook his head, his eyes facing the house again but clearly seeing something else entirely. “He was going to but Ro’ stepped in front of me.” He waved a hand about and told Sirius in a vacant voice. “He almost always did the same thing when—” he lifted his fingers now and curled two of them “— ‘freakish’ things happened. He would just find whichever one of us was closest and…” Harry’s hands both lifted to the empty air in front of him and twisted to mime a choking motion. “We learned pretty quick to go limp when he did that. It made him let go faster.”

For what felt like the hundredth time since arriving at this terrible house Sirius had to swallow back a more violent reaction to what he was hearing. He would never forgive himself for the childhood he left the twins to. So intent on his own revenge in the heat of things that he didn’t think about what may follow.

Rose finally came back around the house at that point, now on the opposite side, and the two of them fell quiet. She stepped next to Harry and grabbed his hand and together they took one last look at the house that was never their home. 

“Ready?”

“Do it.”

With a flick of her hand Rose brought forth a surge of flames and it didn’t take long for the fire to erupt into a blaze. Between the spell itself and Rose’s runes the house soon became engulfed, the fire remaining safely behind containment runes as it would so until the fire burned out entirely and the house turned to ash.

As the heat of the flames warmed their faces Sirius looked to the twins. “You ready to go home?”

He got a pair of matching smiles, small and miniscule but genuine nonetheless, and they both said. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

With her schedule since graduating from Hogwarts being what it was, Harry hadn’t been able to meet up with Ginny nearly as frequently as he would have liked. They didn’t even have the option they had when he was travelling since Ginny returned Rose’s mirror as soon as they got back from their trip. Even with Ginny having three day weekends she still had a list of friends and her family members who wanted to see her during those times too so they couldn’t always meet up on her free days. Not to mention the trainees often got together and planned to stay at the training camp over weekends sometime to try out new skills and maneuvers which Ginny hated missing out on.

But Ginny’s schedule had opened up about a week ago and the two of them had made sure to make time for each other today, much to Harry’s pleasure, and choose to eat at the Golden Goblet as neither one of them favoured the more fancy restaurants, both liking the casual air of the place. 

Things were going great and over the last year Harry had been enjoying being in Ginny’s actual presence again rather than just seeing her through a small circular mirror. He had been a bit worried about how their relationship would hold up in the weeks leading up to their trip but his worries had long since been proven unneeded. The two of them weren’t anywhere near ready to take the step Rose recently had— really only a little over two years into things— but they had a solid relationship that never had Harry feeling worried or unsure. He likes to think that this has to do with just how much talking they did over the year he was traveling, the both of them delving into topics they likely would have waited longer to discuss had they actually been around each other in person.

Which meant even with all the Quidditch stuff Ginny had that kept her busy Harry hadn’t been concerned. He was beyond happy for her actually, knowing how Quidditch obsessed his girlfriend could be.

Harry had been able to make things work on his end, since he had a far more leisure schedule with his focus more on getting ready to be a family Lord— which really the learning part had been done for a while now— and his other personal interests. He didn’t begrudge the busy lives of everyone around him, he understood that not only Ginny, but Ron and Hermione as well, needed to find jobs and start making careers since they’d need that to make money in order to go about living life.

It at times left Harry feeling guilty and awkward that it was not something he had to worry about. Even if he took the Potter fortune out of the occasion, Sirius was insistent on helping pay for a lot of things and he handled stocking up for food and other things that normal adults would do. Rose had once told him to look at it as the universe sending them some carefree years after their constant decade of hard times with the Dursleys and the three summers after that.

That helped.

“So, what else is new?”

Harry raised a brow as he asked his question and Ginny made a contemplative sound as she chewed, having a sip of his drink before she said. “George has started seeing Angelina Johnson. Well— about two and a half months ago but he kept quiet on it until recently.”

“Really?” Harry asked in surprise.

Angelina Johnson was one of the team members on the original Gryffindor Quidditch team he joined back during his first year at Hogwarts. She was great, both as a player and a person, and eventually went on to be team Captain following Oliver’s— their old Captain— graduation. Well, the year after that considering there was no Quidditch in his fourth year. He was mildly surprised that she was seeing George though because—

“Didn’t Fred take her to the Yule Ball?”

Ginny nodded her head. “It wasn’t anything serious,” she explained readily, absently pushing some hair out of her face. “The two did try their hand at dating for about a month but both of them decided that they were far better off as friends.”

With a furrowed brow Harry asked. “When was this?”

“During the whole Triwizard Tournament stuff.”

Ah, well that made sense he didn’t know this. Harry had been rather busy at that point having been unwillingly made a contestant in said tournament. 

“Is Fred seeing anyone then?” Harry inquired next as he shovelled some food into his mouth.

Snorting, Ginny said. “He seems ready to commit to the single life like Charlie— much to Mum’s horror.”

Harry laughed at that. It was no secret that Mrs. Weasley was eager for her kids to find someone to spend their lives with, to get married and have kids and all of that stuff. Charlie likely would have been forced to endure constant matchmaking attempts over the years if he lived in Britain rather than Romania and Fred was likely only avoiding it since he had all of his business stuff going on almost constantly since graduating.

With George in a relationship Harry didn’t think that was going to last that much longer for Fred now. When he said as much to Ginny she all but cackled her agreement much to Harry’s fond amusement.

“So, how are Bill and Fleur? How’s life with a baby?”

“Great!” Ginny said excitedly, her big brown eyes practically lighting up at the mere mention of the couple and their baby. “Victoire smiled for the first time about two weeks ago and now she’s holding her head up on her own a lot more.”

Grinning at her enthusiasm, Harry thought back to the moments when Teddy did those things too. He was only a couple of weeks older than Victoire, a little less than a month actually, and adding onto his accomplishments was his frequent habit of changing his hair colour.

“That must be so awesome,” Ginny enthused after Harry voiced the last thought aloud. “I can only imagine what he’s going to be like when he gets older. Tonks is awesome and from the sounds of it Remus was a real troublemaker when he was in school.”

Harry laughed. “To be fair to Remus I think a lot of it he was dragged into. I think he was more of a silently sarcastic kind of funny than a Fred and George kind of funny.”

His godfather made sure he and Rose knew for a fact that Remus wasn’t some innocent Prefect in their youth. Though even Sirius had to admit he and their dad were the loud mouths of the group he couldn’t help but add that the amount of times they got in trouble for repeating something Remus would mutter under his breath in class was insane.

“How is your search for the Hallows going?” Ginny asked next as she finished off the last of her meal.

It was with a frown that Harry said. “I’m pretty sure I tracked them all down but I can’t prove the Stone.” He had yet to convince Rose to ask after the thing and with everything else she had on her plate at the moment he didn’t want to be too annoying about it.

“Why not?”

“I’m pretty sure Voldemort has it,” Harry told her with a shrug. 

Ginny hummed quietly and the two of them went silent as one of the bus boys came and cleared their table, both of them shaking their heads as they were asked if they wanted dessert. “Why does that mean you can’t prove it?” She asked him curiously, knowing him well enough by now that he wouldn’t let things go so easily.

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “I don’t wanna just ask the guy and Ro’s being stubborn about asking him.” 

With a laugh that was stifled immediately, Ginny asked in concern. “Do you think Grindelwald’s gonna be an issue again anytime soon?”

“I know Grindelwald will still want the Wand,” Harry said straight away. “Which means he’ll eventually track Ro’ down again, but right now he seems to have his hands tied up with other things.”

Which was a relief for Harry to hear. He had spent a lot of time worrying about his sister’s safety and it was likely every one of those fears had been proven true when the man had attacked Rose at the German Ministry party in June. He knew the man wouldn't give up so easily, not if he was as obsessed with the Hallows as Harry thought he was, which meant it was only a matter of time before his sister was put in danger again.

Honestly, he’d rather it be him in danger than Rose— though he imagined she wouldn't be too happy with that.

Ginny nodded to herself as she thought that over. “You-Know-Who does have a strong following here and Grindelwald’s only had about a year to rebuild his.”

“That’s what Ro’ said,” Harry replied with an absent point at his girlfriend across the table.

“Speaking of Ro’,” Ginny said suddenly as she sat straighter in her seat. “I was surprised to hear she was engaged.”

With her Quidditch schedule and Rose reclusiveness, Ginny had yet to see Rose since she got engaged. Most of the Weasley had though— with the exception of Charlie— and Mrs. Weasley had been beside herself with glee at the news. Hermione also stopped by as well once Harry let the news slip to her, and Rose’s other two Slytherin friends had come by too, though Marcus didn’t seem surprised to hear the news.

“Yeah, so were me and Sirius,” Harry told her with a faint smile. “I was pretty sure Ro’ liked Pucey as more than just a friend but I didn’t think they’d get engaged.”

“From what I’ve heard it wasn’t really an option for Pucey,” Ginny said with a considering look on her face. “What with his father pushing it and the strong sense of duty most of the more traditional Purebloods have towards family.”

That was the conclusion Harry had eventually come to as well. He knew from the start Rose had only done this to buy Pucey a few extra months of finding someone for himself in order to avoid being arranged to marry someone he didn’t want. Then he had listened to Rose’s rants about Meier and Sirius’ comments about Pucey’s father getting impatient for a wedding, both things that inevitably pushed Rose and Pucey to either stop their arrangement or get engaged.

Given what she did to Meier, Harry didn’t see Rose stopping anything.

But still, this was Rose. “Ro’s planning on a long engagement though. I think she only said yes so soon so that people would stop approaching Pucey and his father wouldn’t marry him off to some random Pureblood girl.”

Ginny grinned at the first point. “So, no wedding plans on the horizon just yet.”

“Only that I’m the Maid of Honour,” Harry told her proudly before tacking on. “And Sirius will walk her down the aisle.”

He got an amusedly-fond smile that had the corners of Ginny’s eyes crinkling. It was by far his favourite expression on her, only narrowly beating out the confident— borderline arrogant— smirk she’d wear when winning a game of Quidditch.

“Can you be a maid of honour?” Ginny asked with a scrunched up nose.

Harry shot her the same look he gave Sirius and said. “Don’t take this away from me.”

That had Ginny laughing brightly and, Merlin, Harry would never get over how beautiful his girlfriend was. Her hair was a vibrant red, her skin more freckled than ever before due to all her training outdoors and the evening sun streaking in through the windows had her eyes looking as warm as honey. She was dressed in a Muggle t-shirt and jeans, one of her favourite pastimes on weekends was going shopping with Rose and Hermione in the Muggle world and she had found a love for Muggle clothes. 

Before his thoughts could grow too sappy, Harry pulled out some Galleons and placed them on the table, always making sure to leave a nice tip. He and Ginny stood as one and as they crossed towards the door, waving over at the staff members who waved at them both in farewell, Harry asked. “So, when will you hear from the Holyhead Harpies?”

That was largely why Ginny's schedule had opened up lately. After a year-long training period to see if she had what it took to be on the team, Ginny was now finished and her plans for what was next were currently undetermined.

“The two who’ll be chosen will be notified sometime in the next two weeks, so fingers crossed.” Ginny told him as she raised a hand with two fingers linked together and they stepped outside.

Harry caught her hand, curling his fingers around hers as he confidently said. “I’m sure you’ll be picked.” It had Ginny smirking at him fondly and her hand squeezed his tightly as they began walking up the street towards the Leaky Cauldron. 

All in all, it was an evening well spent.

As expected the Pucey’s went to great lengths for Rose and Adrian's engagement party. Rose had already seen the ballroom and it was done up in a thankfully tasteful but extravagant manner and the list of people that had been invited was an endless one in her opinion. She wasn’t in the ballroom at the moment— though she was dreading when she and Adrian would have to make her way there— instead she and her now fiance were waiting in one of the many private rooms in Pucey manor.

They were told by Adrian’s mother to wait there until the majority of their guests arrived and then they would be brought in. The spectacle of it all had Rose barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes. But as Sirius would say, it was tradition. So she waited and absently fixed her dress robes as she did so, tonight's set a deep wine colour. 

“Are you looking forward to this evening?”

Rose shot Adrian a thoroughly unamused look that had him smiling faintly. “Is tonight already what you’ve always expected?” Of the two of them Adrian was the only one who could truly be prepared for this evening, it being one that’s been lying in wait for him since his birth.

“No,” Adrian admitted as he tugged at his sleeves. “I always thought it would be with some woman I either barely tolerated or outright couldn’t stand to be around.”

She turned to look at him with a raised brow.

Adrian shrugged at her. “Couples like the Malfoys are a rare breed in the magical world. Ones where they genuinely foster a good relationship.” As he spoke Rose wandered over to where he was standing by the door. “The best most cynical Purebloods hoped for was a wife who was content with the title of ‘Lady’ and would overlook any of their affairs.”

Reaching out, Rose tugged his hands away from where he was still fiddling with his robes and began straightening them out herself— though they were in perfect order already. When she spoke it was with a dark tone that brooked no arguments. “If you ever even think about another woman, I promise I will remove that which makes you a man and feed it to you.”

Adrian grinned darkly as he leaned closer to her. “Believe me, I know.”

She resisted the urge to smile as she dropped her hands once more. “At least your father will be appeased from here on out. Hopefully he doesn’t start harping about you getting the Dark Mark too soon.”

“He’ll probably focus more on trying to squeeze something out of the Black family name here and there,” Adrian remarked quietly as he pulled out his pocket watch. “Though I imagine he’ll try to kick up a fuss when he learns you won’t take my name.”

There was a sudden burst of surprise in Rose at that and she glanced up at his face with narrowed eyes. “I never told you I wouldn’t take your name.”

“You didn’t have to,” Adrian said easily with a faint nod as he put his watch away. “I know you. You’d never take anything from a man that wasn’t your direct family. Not even a name.”

Rose couldn’t smother the fond feeling that built up in her chest at his rather apt reasoning. Usually the idea of being read so easily would have her feeling bitter or annoyed but with Adrian it only left her feeling undeniably pleased. When she spoke again it was in a low murmur that was more to herself than anything. “That’s true, I’ll be a Potter-Black until the day I die.”

The arrival of one of the Pucey family house-elves forestalls their conversation then, the little creature bowing low and letting them know they could join the ballroom now. 

Adrian didn’t hesitate to turn to Rose, lifting one arm to tuck her hand into it and she let him lead her down the hall to where the guests would be waiting. “Think of it this way, at least this will be the only event where we have to be the sole focus. Every other event onwards we’ll just be footnotes.”

“Every other event?” Rose repeated with a frown as she looked at him.

Before he could offer an explanation they came upon the ballroom doors and Lady Pucey called them forward with an accompanied wave of the hand. “Your father has already begun making his rounds so the guests will be expecting you,” she informed her son evenly, her eyes darting back out to the crowd gathered in her manor.

Rose liked Lady Pucey well enough. The woman was very engaging in conversations when a topic that interested her was brought up and she had a love of knowledge that was very typical to her Hogwarts House— Ravenclaw— during her school days. The two of them have had tea a handful of times since the start of their whole courtship and thankfully they always took place at a local tea spot in Diagon Alley that most Pureblood Lady’s favoured when gathering outside of their family homes. The woman had a quiet demeanor for the most part but not in a meek sort of way but in a way that said she was keeping everyone in eyeline should things go wrong.

For a man as unpleasant and prejudiced as Alexander Pucey she seemed happy enough in her marriage. Not in the way Narcissa was but in a way that Rose imagined the cold and at times dismissive Daphne Greengrass would have been had she been forced into a marriage.

That is to say, in a way where she clearly carefully manipulated her marriage contract to put her in as good a position as a female Pureblood heir could be. Hands tied by the hands of her father but unwilling to let that keep her well and truly tied down in a way that left her weak and vulnerable. 

As she and Adrian began making their own rounds, Rose thought back to when she would ponder a lot about marriage contracts when she first learnt of them during her Hogwarts days. Mostly about the lack of compromise or understanding from parents to their children.

It seemed the boys were better off— even if only mildly— since they’d carry the name and inherit the title. (The latter if they were the first born that is.) The girls, in contrast, were more bargaining pieces, used to gain something in return for the rest of their lives. Expected to bear the future heirs and take care of their home. From what Rose has seen it seemed there were a good many who desire just that, though she imagined that a lot of those women would rather their husbands be faithful which, if what Adrian said was true, wasn’t that common. From what else she’s seen it wasn’t uncommon for a girl to be married off to a man even two decades older than her. 

Daphne Greengrass was one of the ones fortunate enough to have a father that wasn’t misogynistic in the slightest— in fact he took great pride in having two daughters— and as the oldest daughter Daphne was saved from being married off hastily since it was she who would carry on the Greengrass name. Well, not necessarily, it could be just as likely that her younger sister Astoria’s second child could carry the title. (The first would carry on the Malfoy name.) 

Then there were the girls like the Carrow sisters who didn’t care about the man they married in the slightest. Rather they cared if the man had money and the power he wielded. 

All of this wasn’t strictly restricted to the Dark and Neutral Pureblood families either. Some of the Light families were just the same when it came to marriage and such. It was the Pureblood life evidently, making sure the family name lived on was held to the highest regard.

Rose supposed in some ways she could understand the particular brand of unwillingness to compromise in the last few decades. After back-to-back Dark Lords who wiped out a good percentage of family lines it made sense that families wanted to make sure their line survived. Which meant marrying right out of school and having heirs as soon as possible after that. Now with said back-to-back Dark Lords once again at large at the same time it seemed the Pureblood Lords were nervous once more about the durability of their family lines.

It took well over an hour into the party before Rose could say she shook every hand at the party. The place was an odd mixture too, with the Black and Pucey names having plenty of Dark and Neutral families invited but the Potter names pulling along several Light family names as well.

As Rose had said when first learning of this party, all of the Weasleys were invited— only Charlie had been unable to attend and Victoire was at home with a babysitter— plus Hermione and Remus. Neville and his grandmother were present as well as Bones and her niece, the Abbots, the Macmillans and an assortment of other Light families that Rose wasn’t necessarily close with— or even spoken to more than a handful of times— but had close ties to the Potter name.

So, as she said, it was an odd mixture of people.

Adrian had been dragged off by a group of his coworkers not long ago and she had waved him away when he silently asked if she wanted to join. As much as she liked hearing about the man's work she didn’t want to endure a conversation with the people he worked with.

She absently hoped Hermione was doing alright as she continued to roam the room, the girl was the only Muggleborn in attendance tonight but at least she had a fair few non-prejudice people to speak with. Remus as well was another one Rose spared some concern for but he was a grown man who was likely used to derision and any unfavourable attitudes so she was sure he would be fine too.

Rose paused long enough to exchange a few words with one of the guests and when they had wandered off she didn’t have long before another person stepped up beside her.

Nathaniel Pucey was not someone Rose spoke to often despite being in a courtship and now engaged to his brother. Nathaniel was already well on his way to establishing his future with his own wife and infant son so their circles didn't cross as much as hers did with his parents. That and she got the feeling she made him a bit nervous. To be perfectly honest both were facts that Rose was rather fine with. There didn’t seem to be anything particularly special about the man and she hated small talk in general which was likely what she’d be forced to endure in his presence.

“My parents went to much greater lengths for Adrian’s engagement party than they did mine,” Nathaniel remarked as he eyed the room around him, a glass of champagne in one hand. “Then again tying our family to the Blacks does certainly call for celebration.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong and honestly Rose was just glad the Puceys had more sense and dignity than some Pureblood families. The room was done up enough to scream class and elegance but it wasn’t gaudy or showy in any kind of way. With a large crystal chandelier hanging high above the room and the walls tastefully obscuring some walls with deep plum colour with golden ropes wrapped around the middles where they were tied back. The Pucey family crest was displayed proudly on one wall and right next to it was the Black family crest, both bordered by their own dark curtains and a spotlight illuminating them. It wasn’t a party of complete grandeur, that would probably be saved for an actual wedding, but it was a statement nonetheless.

Rose raised a brow at his comment despite her agreement, not sure and downright uninterested in adding anything to that particular line of conversation. She watched him wave his free hand to secure their conversation and felt her curiosity spike. 

If there was one set of spells that Purebloods made sure to learn wandlesslly— sometimes it was the only one— it was the spells that secured conversations in public areas. A needed thing considering half the networking Purebloods did were at the numerous parties that they threw.

“You know with your marriage to my brother that will mean our family secret is safe,” Nathaniel remarked idly and Rose half wanted to smile. 

She had wondered for some time if word would spread about the snakes in Slytherin’s House. Eventually she learnt that, after a conversation with Marcus in her fifth year, Tom had gone to find every one of the students who knew about Salazar’s creations— not including Adrian, Graham and Marcus— and made them swear an Unbreakable Vow to never reveal their purpose to another soul. It was a carefully worded vow that would leave them unable to reveal the purpose of the snakes to anyone in any way and stop them from personally reacting on the knowledge either. Apparently there were only three other people outside of the original group that had been made aware of the snakes, all of whom had been since tracked down and forced to take the same vow.

Slytherin’s really did value their own skin over anyone else.

Rose knew for a fact that Nathaniel was one of the other three who had been made aware of them, likely through his now wife Olivia Shardlow who had been of the original group gathered in the common room following Harry’s reveal as a Parselmouth. She always attributed the older man’s nerves around her to this very fact and it seemed she was right to do so.

“You were worried I would tell someone.”

Nathaniel eyed her carefully and said. “You most certainly are the type to use any valuable and private information against someone if needed.”

She didn’t even bother to meet his stare as she studied the crowds of people around them and murmured, “that’s true.” Which it was. While the fact that the Pucey’s had a child who was a Squib wasn’t a world crushing secret in her mind, it was to the family themselves. Had she not grown so close to Adrian she would have loved to use the secret against the family in the future. “I suppose you’re right, your family has nothing to worry about now. At least not when it comes to a secret that could harm Adrian in any way.” Rose was unable to resist adding the last bit and finally looked over at Nathaniel in time to see him swallow nervously.

The man did have his own secrets outside of his family and it wouldn’t hurt to remind him.

Adrian’s brother was quick to leave after that and Rose didn’t hesitate to start moving again lest she be pulled into another conversation. Other than a brief pause here and there Rose found being constantly on the move was the best course of action for the evening, it made it seem as if she was attempting to socialise so people didn’t keep her long when in fact she was simply avoiding everyone as much as possible.

At one point she came across Pansy Parkinson standing near a table with a series of forms to donate to the charities Rose had chosen. She resisted the urge to smile as she approached her and almost laughed outright at the way the other woman did a quick double take when she spotted her.

“Enjoying yourself?” Rose asked, her tone deliberately even rather than openly conversational.

Parkinson nodded her head, her eyes darting back to the table as she said. “I was just deciding where I would like to donate to. My father told me I could choose.”

“There’s a foundation that supports St. Mungo’s and their research of cures for a wide variety of diseases,” Rose offered helpfully, reaching out to tap said form before pointing to another. “Then there's the charity that protects the rights and lives of rare and endangered magical creatures, which is also a good choice.”

Rose had gone to great lengths to find the charities for this evening. The last thing she wanted was some stuck-up and self-absorbed Purebloods donating to a cause that only further harmed or limited the magical community. She had picked seven in the end, each one a well-established and conscientious charity where the money would be put to the best use.

With another nod Parkinson glanced up at her and back down to the table. “I think my family will go with St. Mungo’s,” she said as she tore off a form for herself, holding it carefully to her chest with both hands. “Congratulations on your engagement,” she offered with a tight smile before heading off with enough speed to be out of Rose’s immediate area as soon as possible but not so much so that she looked as though she were fleeing. As Rose watched her go she let herself smirk at the encounter and soon felt a familiar presence behind her.

“To this day I still regret not being present when you finally put that girl in her place.”

Laughing softly, Rose turned to face Adrian and eyed the calculating look he had on his face as he watched Parkinson’s retreat before it grew more pleased as he focused on Rose. She raised a brow at him as she smiled and said. “I would have thought you’d get a memory from one of the people who were there.”

“Oh, I did. But viewing a memory is not nearly as satisfying as actually witnessing it in person,” Adrian told her smoothly, his expression growing more fond in a way that was very specific to him. “Would you like to dance?”

“Absolutely,” Rose said at once. After a near constant two hours of conversations she needed a break. “We’re dancing for at least three songs.”

Adrian snorted quietly at the but didn’t offer any disagreements as he began to lead Rose out to the smaller area of dancing couples near where the band was set up. As they started to dance Rose couldn’t help but ask. “How much longer are these events typically?”

Curling a hand around her lower back and twisting the other into the proper hold, a now very family maneuver, Adrian said. “Some people have already begun leaving. Given it's a Thursday there will be people who have to work or have other responsibilities in the morning.”

“Good,” Rose muttered under her breath, her eyes trained on the smirk lingering at the left corner of Adrian’s mouth. 

He spun Rose out then and when Adrian drew her back towards himself he added. “I’ll give it about an hour before everyone’s gone. We’ll be the last to leave, of course.”

The latter comment was a reminder more so than anything else and one that had Rose frowning briefly. While she did know that— the fact that this was their party kind of an obvious indicator to it— it still had her rather put out. Most parties and events she went to she slipped out before everyone started sharing farewells and such. Speaking of which—

“Earlier you said ‘every other event’ when we were discussing putting up with this party,” Rose pointed out to him suddenly, raising a brow in question.

Adrian only eyed her in silence for a bit as they danced, one song seamlessly changing to another, and he finally revealed. “As an engaged couple we will be expected to attend events together.” The only thing stopping Rose from asking why was the lingering memory of Sirius’ dreaded ‘it’s tradition’. Instead she clenched her jaw and let out a slow breath as she looked around. Adrian leaned down closer to her ear, briefly brushing against her temple as he did so, and murmured reassuringly. “We will make good use out of the dance floors at the parties and cut our socialising time in half— at best we’ll only have to spend a mere hour at each event.”

“Well that’s something,” Rose muttered in return, the hand that was near the nape of his neck curling absently into his hair as she thought his words over. “Do we at least get to choose which ones we attend?”

The man pulled back enough for her to see the split-second grimace on his face before it was tucked away into a more neutral expression. “Not particularly. If we’re invited and it’s hosted by a family any of our families have close ties to then we’ll be expected to attend.” His fingers drummed along the small of her back as he admitted. “It would be hard to back out without looking bad.”

Head tilting back, Rose released a heavy breath that she wanted more than ever to be a groan of annoyance before she lamented. “And it’s not just two families we have connections with but three . Which means even more parties to attend.” She shot him a rather pointed look next. “You’re lucky I want to keep you around.”

Adrian let out a rather uncharacteristic laugh at that, an amused but fond smile on his face as he promised, “I know,” and he spun her out once more between the crowds of people, family, friends and acquaintances all around them.

Chapter Text

Ginny made it onto the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team.

This meant that in mid August everyone gathered at the Burrow in order to celebrate the news. It was a beautiful day out, the sun high and the sky and only a few scattered clouds that were constantly moving in the breeze drifting through the air. The Burrow, while being a tall house, was rather compact so everyone was scattered around various picnic tables out in the lawn. At one table was Remus and Tonks, Bill and Fleurs, as well as the two couples' babies, plus Sirius. At another was Harry’s old Quidditch team, minus Oliver but plus Lee Jordan— a somewhat tight squeeze with how overzealous the twins and Lee could be but they made it work. Percy and his fiancee were sitting with his parents, the four of them happily chatting about upcoming wedding plans. Rose, Ron and Hermione were sitting at one table, talking about something involving the Ministry, while Harry was sitting with the woman who this whole party was for plus Neville and Luna.

The other player who made the team was from Norway and Harry had met her once and she seemed nice enough, if rather serious about the game. Ginny and her would only be on the reserves for the time being but were still expected to attend every game as well as all the matches.

The Quidditch season ran from the beginning of December to the beginning of May and every four years the Quidditch World Cup series would take place from the middle of May until the end of August. It spanned over fifteen weeks with a single game every week. It was only a game a week since some games could last days at a time and the end date could be pushed back if it happened frequently during the series. 

Ginny would start training with the official team now so her schedule would soon become busy once more and then she’d start touring with them come December And Harry didn’t even know how her schedule would go then, especially with how international travel was rumoured to become even more strict. He was a little bummed but honestly his excitement of Ginny making an official team far outweighed the feeling.

All evening the Quidditch fanatics at the party had been eagerly telling tales of their playing days and letting others know what they had been up to since their school days.

Angelina, despite being a nut about the sport in her final years, had since gone into a career in Healing. She had gained an interest in it since she almost always went to the Medical Wing with any players who got injured during games and Madam Pomfrey was always happy to explain to her what she was doing. Alicia was working at one of the restaurants in Diagon alley while Katie was working at a local magical daycare that was used more often by the Pureblood families who didn’t have house-elves or more people to help at home. Lee was still working for the twins and was running their shop in Diagon Alley full time while the twins worked from Hogsmeade.

Harry had learnt from Neville that he was getting ready to take over the Longbottom Lordship soon— which had him mildly relieved about not doing so himself if he was being honest— and Rose had murmured to him that was surprised he hadn’t already given his grandmother's advanced age. When Harry voiced her opinion aloud they learnt he had asked his gran if he could spend more time training first much like Harry had. And Luna was helping her father run his magazine for the most part, her father— much like Sirius— in no rush for her to leave home as he enjoyed their time together.

“When exactly is the big day, Percy?” Lee called to the man with a bright grin.

Percy sat up proudly as he curled his hand around Audrey's almost unconsciously. “It will be on November nineteenth.”

“Can’t wait!” Lee said excitedly.

Mrs. Weasley narrowed her eyes briefly before looking at one of her twins. “Fred, you were told to bring a date!” 

“I’m George,” Fred cried with a hand to his chest in mock-offence. When his mother’s stare didn’t relent he laughed. “C’mon, Mum, weddings are a bit too serious for a casual date.”

“Then you should find someone serious. George has.”

George and Angelina looked all too amused at Fred’s current misfortune— as did the rest of their table— and the boy in question shot Lee a look. Clearly he hadn’t planned to inform his family just who he was bringing to Percy’s wedding and now would have to fend off any attempts at a match made by his mother.

Percy’s wedding would be a small one with just the main family and one guest each for everyone. This meant that Harry and Rose, as well as Sirius, wouldn’t be in attendance. None of them took much offence, despite constantly being with the Weasley family and involved in nearly every family event. They didn’t really know Percy all that well and the man himself had carefully informed them of his decision back in July and they had been all too understanding. 

They would still get the couple a nice gift though.

Despite not being invited the twins knew quite a lot of the big day. It was going to take place at Audrey’s family home, apparently her mother had a love of gardening and their backyard, and more importantly their family greenhouse, was a sight to see, with many people stopping for a visit just to get a glimpse. It would be catered by a company that— while not the most expensive or extravagant there was to offer— had nothing but good reviews. The whole thing would begin in the early morning as apparently it was the best time to view the flowers in the greenhouse according to Mrs. Abbot. 

“Have you gotten to know Audrey well?” Neville asked Ginny as the ‘Fred and his lack-of-date’ debacle continued in the background.

Ginny nodded her head as she looked away from her brother, a delighted grin on her face at the happenings. “Yeah, I’ve been spending more time with her lately, same with my brothers, though less than me and Mum. We invite her to tea or even just to go out and shop or grab a bite to eat.”

“Why exactly?” Harry asked with a frown. From what he’s seen it seemed like Audrey was fitting into the family pretty well.

Laughing brightly at the question, Ginny raised a brow and said. “Because she’s marrying my brother, so I think I should get to know her a bit better. You know Pucey, right?”

That had Harry pausing, not even hearing Neville’s follow up question as he thought Ginny’s words over.

“Why exactly are we here?”

Here was the Golden Goblet and it wasn’t packed but not anywhere near empty either. Harry gave his customary wave at the owner who smiled brightly at the sight of him and gestured over to the twins’ normal table. He got the odd stare here and there, the same ones that made him mildly uncomfortable and had to work hard to convince himself he was imagining things, but otherwise Harry was just another customer. Ron and Hermione were following behind and he was quick to take a seat in the booth side of the table while Ron and then Hermione slid onto the other side of him; only after he stopped them from taking the two chairs on the still empty side.

“I invited Pucey for lunch. You guys are my moral support.”

He didn’t exactly tell either of his friends what he was doing— not wanting to risk them bailing on the idea, and all in all he felt rather good about his decision as Ron paused. “You invited Pucey for lunch… why?”

Harry ignored him as he nervously fixed things on the table and repeated the action as a series of drinks were brought over next. Since Harry knew he was coming today he had asked the owner to save their usual seat and also told him what to bring to the table when he got there. 

“Did Ro’ ask you to do this?” Hermione asked as she pulled a drink closer to herself, sounding very hesitant while Ron just took a deep sip of his own. 

“No, I just thought that I should.”

There was no time for either Ron or Hermione to say anything else as Pucey arrived then, the door above the bell alerting them to his entrance. Even in the rather golden and lively decor of the restaurant, Pucey looked as intimidating as ever. When he approached the table he sat down in the empty seat across from Harry agreeably enough, glancing over at Ron and Hermione before turning his attention back to Harry. 

Harry gestured to the last drink on the table not claimed and awkwardly told him. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want so I just got a butterbeer.” 

Pucey nodded his head but made no move for the drink and Harry struggled to think of something to say. “How’s your job?”

“It’s more or less the same as ever,” Pucey replied evenly, not being resistant to conversation but not exactly encouraging either. “The work has been less tedious since I’ve been able to hire some assistants.”

With hum in reply, Harry nervously drank at his drink, drumming his fingers along the edge of the glass when he put it back down. He was vaguely aware of Ron silently shaking his head next to him but couldn’t seem to come up with a new line of conversation.

“Why exactly am I here?” Pucey asked outright. The action reminded Harry of Rose more than anything else, the abrupt way he cut to the chase rather than dance around the subject at all, something he’s watched her do numerous times.

Pursing his lips and trying in vain to keep his nervousness at bay, Harry decided to go with the honest answer. “I thought we should get to know each other better.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

Huffing now, Harry used the exact same tone Ginny had used just yesterday when he said. “Cause you’re marrying my sister, which means we’ll be family soon enough.”

It made a lot of sense when Ginny had said it, though she hadn’t said as much. Honestly Harry was going around thinking what he was doing was fine but when he heard how the Weasley were going out of their way to spend time with Percy’s future wife— and recalled how they had done the same with Fleur once they came around about her and the recent invites Angelina was receiving for visits, not to mention how they were with him— he… well, Harry felt like he wasn’t doing enough. 

Listen, he knew Pucey, but he didn't know Pucey. He was just the guy who his sister was friends with for a long time. One of three Slytherins Rose found tolerable and willingly hung around for the last how many years. Perhaps it made sense not doing this kind of thing during their whole courtship stuff because the two had gone into not actually planning to turn things serious. And even though Harry was sure Rose liked the guy more than she was letting on, he still took her lead on things; as he often did. Now it was serious though. The two of them would be getting married and this guy would soon be his brother-in-law, would be in his life for the rest of their lives, would be the dad of whatever kids he and Rose may have if they decided to do that—

So… Yeah. Harry felt like he definitely should get to know him better.

Pucey only studied Harry carefully after his proclamation and once more Harry’s nerves built up until the man spoke. “Name one thing we have in common that’s not your sister.”

There was a heavy pause and the silence was almost suffocating before Harry slowly said. “... we both… went to Hogwarts?” Now Ron put a hand on his face, forgoing any subtlety in the wake of Harry’s answer. The guy on the receiving end of his words only raised a brow and Harry admitted. “I didn’t really think this very far ahead.”

Hermione— thank Merlin for the creation of Hermione— took that moment to speak up. “I quite like the ring you got Ro’.”

He accepted the words with a gracious tilt of the head while Harry hurriedly added. “I liked it too… though I always thought engagement rings were supposed to be diamonds.” He frowned to himself and looked over at his friends. “Is that a thing?” Before either could offer a reply he shook his head and said. “No, it isn’t. Ignore me.”

Pucey tactfully, mercifully, ignored his rambling. “Rose doesn’t like diamonds.”

“She doesn’t?” Harry asked in surprise and when he got a silent shake of the head he murmured. “I did not know that.”

The amount of times someone knew something about his sister that he didn’t know was a very small number; which was mainly why he was so surprised at the man's comment. He and Rose were just too attached at the hip not to know every single detail of each other's lives and even all the stupid little details too. Like how Harry knew Rose always wore a pair of fresh socks to bed— which was so weird to him— and that, while she was beyond skilled at almost anything she put her mind to, there wasn’t a single musical instrument that Rose was even remotely skilled at— which was a hilarious discovery for him and Sirius both. Conversely Rose knew that Harry always saved some of his drink for last whenever he ate and hated the word moist. 

They plunged into another awkward silence after Harry’s comment and his eyes darted to Ron and Hermione in a plea for them to save him. Pucey finally decided to take pity on Harry and asked. “Do you want to think this through a bit more and try it again another time?”

“Yes,” Harry didn’t hesitate to answer, his tone beyond thankful. 

Pucey stood at that, his drink left untouched on the table as he gave them all a nod, his eyes lingering on Harry. “You know how to reach me.”

After the man had left the shop Ron looked over at Harry and offered a positive word of. “That definitely could have gone worse.” The comment would have been a lot more appreciated if he hadn't immediately added under his breath. “It definitely could have gone better.”

Hermione whacked his arm but shot Harry with a rather chiding expression. “You most certainly should have at least thought up some things to say.”

It was a rather Hermione suggestion too. She likely would have had a whole deck of index cards filled with various topic ideas and sorted into carefully decided categories and subcategories. Harry wasn’t much of a planner though and even though his sister was a planner she rarely planned conversations either, mostly because she hated talking to people in general.

Slouching back in his seat Harry huffed and admitted. “It was only after a talk I had with Ginny yesterday about Audrey that got me thinking I should try getting to know the guy better.” 

“You could have talked about Quidditch. Pucey was on the team.”

Harry turned to stare at Ron with open exasperation. “You could’ve said that before.” His only reply was a shrug and Harry sighed. “Maybe I should ask Ro’ for some ideas,” he mused as he riffled through his pocket. He pulled out some Galleons and slid them onto the table as he stood, both Ron and Hermione quick to follow.

He knew exactly where his sister would be when he got home, the exact same place she was when he first left earlier that day— the potions room.

Sure enough Rose was in the Grimmauld Place potions room. It was rather small compared to some of the other rooms in the house, about the size of Sirius’ personal office. The walls were all made up of shelves, cupboards and counters, each one meticulously stocked and maintained, and there was one large table with room for three cauldrons, two of which were currently hanging from the ceiling. Rose was standing in front of the one cauldron in use, stirring steadily as she looked back and forth between what she was brewing and an open book. It was anyone's guess really what she was making.

Her eyes flickered up to them and back down when they walked in. “What have you been up to?”

“We just sat through one of the most awkward encounters in history,” Ron helpfully informed her. Harry shot him an indignant look as he sat on a stool on the other side of the table from his sister, while Ron and Hermione leaned against the nearby counters, but Ron only shrugged unapologetically.

Rose paused at the answer and looked to Harry for more information.

“I was out with Pucey,” Harry told her and just as quickly asked. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you don’t like diamonds?”

She frowned at both his statement and question. “I’ve never mentioned it to anyone, why would I? It’s not like it’s all that relevant to any conversations I have.” Rose rolled her eyes briefly even as she said it and then got to the main point. “Why were you getting lunch with Adrian?”

Harry’s brows furrowed at her first answer but he pushed the topic aside for the time being. “I thought it was time I got to know him better.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

Ron snorted at the response and Harry’s head darted to him as he shot him a look that screamed ‘are you hearing this?’. With great patience he turned back to his sister to slowly inform her. “Pucey is going to be family soon. Wouldn’t you want to get to know whoever I’d marry?”

“First of all, you’re with Ginny— who I was friends with beforehand.” Rose switched her stirring hand as she gestured over at their two friends absently. “Same with those two. And if Sirius ever decides to find someone I wouldn’t be doing what you’re apparently doing.”

That both was and wasn’t what Harry expected her to say. Truthfully he didn’t see Rose doing what Harry was trying to do, mainly because she hated social interactions in general, but he thought if someone was joining their family then his sister— in all her expected paranoia— would want to make sure she knew them well.

He partially voiced that latter thought as he asked. “Really… you wouldn’t want to get to know them better?”

“I wouldn’t ignore them or exclude them by any means but I also certainly wouldn’t take them on weird lunches.” Ron barked out a loud laugh at that and Hermione hid her amused smile behind one hand. Rose then shot her brother a pointed look. “You know I find your sudden desire to get to know Adrian better rather humorous.”

“Why?” 

Grabbing pieces of something that looked to be the liver of some animal, Rose added three to her potion. “Adrian has been in our lives since we were thirteen, somewhat before then even, I have considered him a great friend of mine since we were fourteen and now— at the ripe age of twenty— you have decided it’s the time to try to get to know him better.” When Harry scrunched up his nose at that Rose added. “And you still won’t call him by his first name.”

“Yeah, because I don’t know him that well.” Harry countered quickly.

Which was true, like he realised just yesterday, despite the man being around most of the time Harry knew nothing about him. Add in the fact that Slytherins— and certain Pureblood families like Pucey’s— were very proper about social interactions, he didn't feel right just calling the guy by his given name.

“You call Marcus by his first name.”

“Marcus at least talks to me,” Harry refuted as he watched her stir her potion slowly and glance at the clock hanging on the wall. “Besides… Pucey is intimidating.”

Rose laughed softly at that. “Adrian is intimidating? We’ve met trolls, arcumentula, basilisks and dragons, not to mention an insane Dark Lord on multiple occasions, but Adrian is where it gets intimidating?”

Harry scoffed. “Those instances usually involve a lot of adrenaline that takes the scary edge off of things. We’re too busy trying to stay alive to worry about much else. Pucey is like everyday-scary.” He leaned closer to her over the table and earnestly told her. “The guy never really talks and he has this general air that screams he doesn’t want anyone to try and change that. Plus when he is talking, you can never tell if he’s enjoying the conversation or is this close—” he held up his fingers about an inch apart “— to cursing you.” With a sudden pause Harry tilted his head and said. “And yes, I’m aware I’m kind of describing you but I know you.”

“He’s not wrong,” Ron took that moment to throw in with a faint nod to himself. “That definitely describes Ro’.” She shot him a look that had him raising his hand much like Harry just had and moving his fingers until they were about a centimeter apart. “This close now.”

Rolling her eyes, Rose ignored him once more as she looked back at Harry. “You don’t need to do this,” she assured him evenly. “Maybe just calling him by his first name would be an adequate place to start.”

That didn't feel like enough, Harry thought to himself. Every similar circumstance he knew of told him that he and Pucey should definitely know each other better. Ginny and Rose were very close, both of them frequently meeting up to do things together without Harry. He should be able to do the same with the person Rose was choosing to spend her life with.

As he thought this over he muttered to himself. “Maybe I’ll ask Sirius for help.”

“Ask me for help with what?”

Heads darted towards the door and Sirius was waltzing in with a bright grin on his face. He had left earlier that morning for some family business and told the twins he didn’t know when he’d be back— clearly things went well if he was finished already. Harry perked up at the sight of him and began telling their godfather about his day and his plans, the man nodding along in interest. When Harry was finally finished Sirius seemed to consider his situation heavily. “Maybe one on one is a bit intimidating.”

“That’s why I brought Ron and Hermione,” Harry proudly told him.

Shooting Harry a grin, Sirius remarked, “it sounds like you didn’t prepare the two at all for the day.” His humour only grew as Hermione nodded emphatically and he said. “We’ll gather together sometime soon, maybe something with the boys. The three of us, Remus, and the twins.”

“An evening spent with a bunch of Gryffindors, a Slytherin’s dream come true,” Rose chimed in sarcastically as she finally shut off the small flame underneath her cauldron.

Ron glanced at her. “Isn’t that like your entire life?”

Rose looked decidedly unamused at the rather accurate comment and rolled her eyes as the others grinned. It was something that always amused Harry to no end to be honest. For as much as his sister was a Slytherin down to her bones the vast majority of people she spent her days with were Gryffindors. Rose couldn’t say it was against her will, she loved all the people she spent her time with after all— wouldn’t put up with them otherwise. Add into the fact that of the entirety of Slytherin, all seven years they were at Hogwarts, Rose only found three of them she was willing to frequently interact with. Deny it as she might, Rose’s soft spot for Gryffindors was clear as day.

Turning his attention back to his godfather, Harry said. “I like your idea!”

“At least invite Marcus and Graham along,” Rose suggested with a huff, wiping her hands off on her pants haphazardly. “So Adrian isn’t completely surrounded.”

Sirius grinned wickedly at her request. “Don’t you trust us?”

“If you try anything remotely prank-like I promise I will remove all of your hair, including that weak mustache and beard of yours,” Rose took the moment to firmly say. 

Their godfather lifted a hand to his face in outrage and cried. “They’re not weak!” A claim Harry had to agree with all things considered. Sirius then glanced over at him and asked. “How serious is she about that threat?”

Glancing over his shoulder to his sister, Harry murmured. “Ro’ never makes a threat she can’t or won’t follow through on.”

That had Sirius smiling at her winningly and he pressed a hand to his heart as he promised. “We will be on our best behaviour.”

“Hold on,” Ron said suddenly, lifting a hand as though physically stopping their conversation in its tracks. “Ro’ never makes a threat she can’t follow through on? That just can’t be true cause I’ve heard her make some wild threats.”

While Harry shot him a look that said it was true, Rose helpfully informed Ron of the facts. “Making empty threats only welcomes trouble. Soon enough you’ll meet someone dumb enough to call you on it and if you can’t follow through you put your entire reputation at risk.” She shrugged with a what-can-you-do face as she airily added. “The best way to avoid that is to never make a threat you can’t back up.”

Staring at her in disturbed disbelief, Ron lifted a hand to his ear slowly. “You can really turn an ear inside out?” He asked worriedly.

Rose grinned at his obvious discomfort. “Want me to show you?”

That only had him sliding closer to Hermione who only laughed at the exchange along with Harry. The latter of them turned back to Sirius. “Will you get everything together?”

Honestly Sirius was by far the most social of their little family and he was a part of the Darker Pureblood circles too which meant he’d know what guys like Pucey would like when it came to social gatherings. While he was a Gryffindor at heart Sirius spent a great amount of his life surrounded by Slytherins, a funny mirror to Rose herself actually. Either way, with their godfather in charge Harry was sure this whole thing would be smooth sailing from here on out.

“I’ll get right on it,” Sirius assured him with a wink. “It’ll be great.”

Harry beamed at his confidence and ignored Rose as he heard her mutter a quiet “good luck, Adrian” behind him.

It only took a few days, three to be exact, (being a Black had its perks) but as promised Sirius organised a little gathering for them to spend more time with Pucey and get to know him a bit better. It was a simple enough thing by Sirius’ standards. They all gathered at the Sorcerers Society, a high end club— or maybe parlour was the better word— attended almost primarily by Pureblood men. Women were welcome of course but the place had the reputation of a ‘men’s club’. Harry had never been to it before but had heard Sirius mention it on more than one occasion.

Apparently it was a very expensive place to go to.

When he stepped inside Harry had to agree it certainly looked expensive. With deep wooden decor intermixed with upholstered accents it was a place that screamed classy money. Harry was happy to see a couple of pool tables being used and what appeared to be a row of dart boards further back. There was a large and fancy looking bar with bubbles moving almost constantly up and out of sight in the colourful backsplash behind it.

“I booked us a private room,” Sirius said from Harry’s right and he glanced over at him with a nod.

Their little party had everyone they first discussed inviting with the expectation of Remus who stayed home since Tonks was feeling a bit under the weather and he didn’t want to leave her alone. Ron, Fred and George had met Harry and Sirius at Grimmauld Place and they had all come straight here where Pucey, Marcus and Graham had said they’d meet them. 

Sure enough when they got the private room the three Slytherins were already inside, the former two engaged in a round of pool while the latter was sitting on a stool at the private bar in the room not far from the pair. Unlike the main area the room only had a single pool table and dart board and one sitting area that would comfortably fit about five men. The bar had three stools in front of it that offered more seating for those that would need it and looked to be a self-serve kind of situation.

“Hello, boys!” Sirius greeted as cheery as ever, the man far more familiar with the three boys than Harry himself despite knowing them for a lot less time. It was mainly due to his more outgoing nature, which was only bolstered by the fact that Rose held these three to significant importance which meant Sirius would go out of his way to be on close terms with them.

He got a series of greetings in return, Marcus stepping back from the table after his shot to shake his hand, while the twins crossed to the bar with wicked grins. 

“What are we having?” Fred asked as he began surveying the bottles with trailing fingertips.

George smirked as he watched him and his eyes flicked up to his younger brother. “We should hide the hard stuff—”

“— since ickle Ronniekins can’t handle his liquor,” the two finished as one.

Ron scowled at them both. “I can too!”

Harry laughed as he moved over to the pool table and Graham pointed the twins over to a few of the bottles he apparently liked. Fred and George weren’t wrong about their teasing, anytime Ron drank— and it was a few and far between situations— he tended to lose any sense of coordination and then start going on about the most disjointed topics. The last time he drank he spent an hour telling them how spiders and dragons were similar and Harry, to this day, still could not work out his reasoning despite being sober when he heard it all the first time.

“Graham, want to hand me a firewhiskey?” Marcus asked as he watched Pucey take a shot. Graham turned to grab the bottle George held out to him and dutifully poured it into the glass Fred slid over. He passed over to Adrian who handed it over the table to Marcus. 

Eyes darting around the room, Sirius noted the lack of glasses with any type of liquid and then Graham poured himself something from another bottle. “You waited before tying into anything,” he realised.

Adrian hummed his confirmation as he stood straight once more. “Only right to,” he offered by way of explanation. 

The comment seemed to amuse Sirius who grinned faintly but he and Harry crossed to the bar to pour themselves something, both twins and Ron already holding drinks in their hands. Drinking was not something Harry partook in often either, barring a glass of champagne at a boring party that was. It was also worth noting that during those parties most hosts had champagne and sparkling non-alcoholic drinks floating around so he often changed between the two. There was something unsettling about being drunk, Harry discovered the first time he tried it. Having the world spinning under your feet and a sick feeling in your stomach that could easily be mistaken for nerves or fear— add all that to his already tragically-threatening-life-story, it made sense that it wasn’t a situation he wanted to put himself through too frequently. Or at all.

Once drinks had officially been served, and Harry and Ron had started up a round of darts while the twins lingered around the bar with Graham, Marcus glanced over at Fred and George as he finished taking a shot. “Business in your shop in Hogsmeade should be picking up again with the school year starting up,” he commented as Sirius leaned against the back of a chair nearby him. 

Fred tipped his glass towards Graham in agreement. “It does pretty good outside of Hogsmeade weekends and that.”

“But on a Hogsmeade weekend we get enough sales that we could easily close up for a full month before seeing a decline in profit.” George added as he slid onto a stool, taking a swig of his drink.

Adrian’s head lifted from where he had been focused on his next move. “Even with Zonko’s still open?” He questioned in mild surprise.

It was something that surprised Harry too. Especially since Zonko’s had been considering shutting down not long ago, he had always assumed it was because of lack of business outside of the few days the students came into town. But if what the twins said was true then Zonko’s should have been eager to keep business going before a rival shop opened up.

“Yeah,” the twins said as one and Fred told them. “Zonko’s hasn’t exactly been introducing many new products over the last how-many-years, whereas we have different items we roll out only during certain times a year which has people for sure buying in order to not miss out.”

Marcus grinned at that. “Creating supply and demand,” he noted astutely and got a cheeky wink in return from George.

From George’s left Graham shook his head slowly. “The two of you should have been in Slytherin.”

Pressing a hand to his chest, Fred adapted a faux-tearful tone and said. “Thank you,” taking the compliment for what it was. From any other House it would have sounded insulting but for a Slytherin to say it was about the highest praise they could offer, considering they were a particularly prideful House.

“Speaking of Slytherin, have you heard the news?” Sirius asked suddenly.

Harry’s attention was immediately pulled from the game of darts he was winning and he asked. “What news?” Everyone was looking over at Sirius just as curiously as him. 

“Snape’s retired.”

The Gryffindors looked gobsmacked at the news and the twins cried. “The old bat waits for us to be gone to do that?”

Marcus and Adrian snorted at the nickname but seemed just as surprised to hear it as the rest of them.

“Who’s gonna be the headmaster now?” Harry asked.

“Is he going back to being the Potions Professor?” Ron asked at the same time.

Sirius shook his head as he swirled his drink in one hand, legs crossed in front of him in an entirely too casual manner by Harry’s opinion. “He retired-retired, Ron. He’s done with Hogwarts. And from what I’ve heard McGonagall will be the new Headmistress and Flitwick was assigned as Deputy Headmaster, they’re supposed to announce it officially soon.”

“McGonagall will be a great Headmistress,” Harry voiced honestly and even the three Slytherin’s couldn’t refute that if they wanted to. There was no denying that the woman loved her students— despite being very strict at times.

Fred and George shared a glance. “We’ll have to stop by and congratulate her,” the latter of them said consideringly.

“I’m sure she misses us,” Fred added with a proud look on his face.

Ron snorted as he started pulling darts off the board for him and Harry. “Yeah, like someone misses a toothache,” he replied dryly which had a few of them smiling.

Despite his teasing, Harry was sure McGonagall did miss the twins in her own way. Probably the same way she missed his dad and Sirius and Remus when they left Hogwarts. It was hard not to keep an eye on the twins and even with all the mayhem they caused they were good people at the heart of it all. They were a certain level of popular without ever becoming arrogant and full of themselves, humble to the core even if they liked to joke that they weren’t.

Marcus glanced over at George next. “I heard you’re dating Johnson.”

George nodded, sliding his glass over to Fred in a silent request for him to fill it, and replied. “Yeah, it’s been about three months now.”

As he filled his twin’s glass, Fred asked Marcus. “Are you planning on getting married anytime soon? It feels like most people our age I know are already in serious relationships or engaged.”

There was a huff of agreement from Graham at that but Marcus paused as he considered the question. “I’ve been looking but haven’t found anyone I feel serious about yet.”

Ron looked over curiously as Harry lined up his shots. “Do you find all the stipulations involved in Purebloods getting married to make things easier or more difficult?” It was a question that Hermione had wondered aloud numerous times before but hadn’t had the opportunity, or courage, to ask any of said Purebloods directly.

Marcus visibly weighed the query over as he handed Sirius his poolstick and Adrian lined up the balls for another game. “A bit of both,” he started off slowly then admitted. “Pureblood marriages tend to be fast paced which has made me reluctant to jump into anything before I’m sure but at the same time at least I know anyone I would jump into things with would be just as committed as I would.”

The line of conversation had Harry glancing over at Adrian. “I’ve been thinking about that kind of stuff and about what I learnt from Sirius, shouldn’t you have asked Sirius or me about marrying Ro’ before actually asking?” When it was clear who it was Harry was addressing, Adrian glanced over at him from across the table but before he could say anything in return Harry frowned and looked at Sirius. “Did he?”

Sirius laughed at that but didn’t reply as Adrian shot Harry a wry look. “Have you met your sister? If I asked anyone but her that question first and she found out— she’d kick my ass.”

The twins cracked up at that and Harry could only make a face that depicted ‘you have a point’ rather clearly.

His godfather pointed at Adrian with a teasing grin. “You’re a smart man for that.”

“Okay, we gotta ask,” Fred said suddenly, with a wave between him and George. “What was Rosie like in Slytherin?”

George nodded eagerly, sitting straighter on his stool. “Yeah, we don’t know any other Slytherins, or— we don’t talk to any of them, and Rosie would never say.”

Harry was interested in that answer too. Oh, he had a pretty good idea and he knew his sister well enough to know how she would approach most of the Slytherins she knew but still he’d like to hear it from an outsider perspective. From people who personally witnessed his sister’s life in the Slytherin House. He left his game of darts behind, Ron lingering long enough to put the darts away, and crossed to stand behind the bar with Fred, leaning against it on his forearms as he waited for a reply.

The three Slytherins shared a look before Marcus said. “She mostly kept to her own.”

“That’s expected,” George chimed in pointedly.

Graham spoke next. “Though most of the House knew not to mess with her.”

“Expected,” Fred said now. Rose was a Twin-Who-Lived after all and even the dumbest of Slytherins would know not to openly mess with her.

Adrian took a shot, the balls clattering and one dropping into a pocket, and he told them. “Rose ran the House more or less, but did so with as little contact with anyone as possible.”

That had Ron frowning as he dropped into one of the chairs in the seating area. “I would think it would take a lot more contact to run a House like Slytherin.”

Marcus grinned faintly. “Rose put everyone in their place rather early on.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“Blackmail, of course,” Graham said with a one shoulder shrug. “Kind of her only option at the start since most of our House had been involved with magic our entire lives and she just found out about it.”

That was essentially what Harry expected but still he was curious how she managed it. His sister was beyond fond of finding out secrets but for every person in the Slytherin House?

Fred voiced that very thought. “She blackmailed all of them?” He repeated in a dubious tone.

“She blackmailed Marcus first,” Adrian told them, currently cleaning up in his game of pool as Sirius was more focused on their reveal than actually playing. “Since he was running Slytherin that meant when he backed down everyone followed suit.”

Waving his glass around, Graham added. “Then we found out about the whole Parseltongue thing.”

George looked over at him. “I imagine that was big news for you all.” The three men just raised their brows in agreement.

“Ultimately Rose didn’t need to blackmail everyone in the beginning,” Marcus told them outright after he drained the last of his first drink. “Just enough of the heavy hitters, so to speak. Then after the first few years she got to a point where she could hold her own against even all of the older years so the blackmail was more of a failsafe than anything.”

“Most didn’t realise she had blackmail to begin with,” Graham added as he passed Marcus another drink.

Jerking his head in agreement to that, Marcus said. “Slytherins tend to follow the lead of others, especially in times of uncertainty. And those who were certain knew not to make an enemy out of her.”

“So everyone else did the same,” Fred rightfully assumed.

“Exactly,” Adrian muttered as he aimed up another shot.

Sirius let out a hum as he leaned against his poolstick. “Rosie really is everything my family would have wanted in an heir. Rather ironic considering I was everything they didn’t want… she’s gonna do great when she takes over the Black Lordship,” he murmured the last bit mostly to himself but the three Slytherins had visibly agreeable looks after he said it. Clearly it was something they had thought about already.

Ron looked over at them contemplatively. “You guys didn’t like Ro’ at first though, right?”

“I didn’t really have an opinion,” Graham offered plainly. “When Rose started I wasn’t that deep into the politics of Slytherin.” The Gryffindors all nod silently but look to Marcus and Adrian.

Marcus pursed his lips. “I was wary of her. No one expected one of the Potter twins to be Sorted into the House of snakes,” he added pointedly, which they all agreed with silently. “Add in her silent nature and the fact that she did well enough earning House points for us then there wasn’t much to do about her.”

“But…” Harry prompted at the lull.

“But then Slytherin lost a lot of points,” Marcus revealed. Harry remembered that, he remembered more distinctly his sister telling him that the Slytherins weren’t bothering her. “I took the opportunity to make a stand and…”

When he trailed off Graham helpfully spoke up with a grin. “And Rose took the opportunity to turn it around on him.” The twins and Sirius laugh at that while Harry and Ron share a humorous glance at what sounded like a typical Rose move. Marcus only rolled his eyes in amusement but didn’t disagree.

George, never one to be deterred on a line of questioning, looked to Adrian. “What about you?”

Marcus and Graham snorted as one and the former told them. “Adrian hated Rose from the start.”

“Really?” Harry said in surprise, considering where they were now he thought maybe the guy had been one of the ones she was cautiously civil with, like Graham apparently was.

Adrian huffed as he leaned against the pool table, game long forgotten now. “I didn’t hate her,” he claimed and when he got pointed looks from his two friends he rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t sure about her. I thought she’d be like everyone else assumed she’d be, a Dumbledore-loving, Light-obsessed, Gryffindor.” He shot a look at Harry after he said that. “No offence.”

A few of them stifled their laughs as Harry slowly said, “none taken.” Really meaning it. He had long since learnt what everyone expected from him and Rose when they came to the magical world and while he did check a lot of the boxes he didn’t think he came over close to fitting the mold that the people of Britain created. One that Snape himself had never stopped seeing whenever he looked at him.

“What changed your tune?” Fred asked Adrian, the humour still lingering in his voice.

“The blackmail had me simmering down a bit,” Adrian answered honestly. “But after her second year, and the whole thing with the Chamber of Secrets came out, I realised she wasn’t only capable through means of blackmail. It was her effort in studying all kinds of magic and trying to understand the more traditional Pureblood sides of things that made me more willing to be friends with her.”

“The Pureblood sides of things,” the twins repeated as one with frowns on their faces.

Adrian only sent them a deadpan look. “How Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic were catering to Muggleborns. They did so by painting a lot of traditional Purebloods as bad guys for hating the changes in our way of life.”

Pushing himself to a stand to lean against the back of one of the couches, Ron said. “I would have thought it was their hatred of Muggleborns that painted them as bad guys…”

“A lot of them hate Muggleborns because of the way they changed our way of life and yet somehow they’re seen as the innocent in it all,” Marcus started off evenly.

Graham chimed in. “The dislike of Muggleborns happened long before the Dark Lord came along. It started with those changes.”

Then Adrian continued from there. “We were forced to slowly hide everything that was once a way of life for us while having Muggle holidays shoved down our throats.”

“But Muggleborns didn’t know that the Ministry did that because of them.”

Marcus smiled wryly as he sipped at his drink. “That’s what Rose said back in her second year,” he conceded. “But unlike most Muggleborns Rose took the opportunity to request all the information she was missing and made an effort to embrace it.”

Ron frowned briefly. “Hermione’s doing that now. She didn’t know, just like most Muggleborns don’t.”

The three Slytherin’s exchanged a heavy glance before Graham said. “She’s choosing to now, but she absolutely knew about magical holidays in her fourth year. The Yule Ball.”

Harry thought back to how the Yule Ball had been brushed over in terms of celebrations. The only time he ever knew of the holiday to be brought up outside of Rose was back when the ball happened and back then he thought it was more of a Triwizard Tournament thing than a magical holiday kind of thing. If his sister hadn’t dived deep into learning about the holidays in the magical world then he likely would have never learnt about them.

“It was a busy year,” Ron defended his girlfriend. “Hermione was kind of obsessed with the rights of house-elves.”

“We’re not holding some kind of grudge,” Marcus was quick to promise as he looked over at Ron. “She is by far one of the most willing-to-learn-about-the-magical-world Muggleborns I have met. It’s just something that can be frustrating.”

Adrian’s face pulled into a more irritated expression. “Even more so for the older generations who have been watching it happen for decades now and unable to stop it.”

“Which is why they turn to a man who promised to change things back,” Graham said quietly. “Even though he was known to be becoming certifiably insane.”

The rest of the room absorbed the three mens’ words in silence. Sirius in particular was thinking about his own family and their steadily increasing prejudice as he grew up. He thought of the way they tried so hard to keep magical traditions alive, his grandfather and father most adamant about it, celebrating each one proudly despite the way the other families slowly started to quiet down. It was something he couldn’t see as a kid, just as stubborn as any other Black and unwilling to see anything else besides the bad his mother practically oozed— literally scream out. His father had been different, a bit quiet but no less intimidating. He had focused on their family as a whole but prioritized his duties as the Lord of the family over raising his children. An act that left said children to the whims of their mother.

Despite never being proven, Sirius was always sure his mother had been hit by the Black Madness too. Maybe not in an obvious way like Bella but affected nonetheless. His uncle Cygnus was just plain old, mean and cruel but his mother… well she flung herself into fits of rage so suddenly that Sirius didn’t think it was at all normal. Cygnus could at least hold his tongue or stick to biting comments and maintain some decorum in social settings but Wablurga was truly incapable, her words flinging out in an ear-splitting manner, regardless of who would hear.

Despite all his issues with his mother, Sirius liked celebrating the holidays growing up, always had really. It was a time when the Blacks were truly at their best. Which was partly why he didn’t protest at all when Rose decided she wanted to start celebrating them too.

He was cut off from his increasingly nostalgic thoughts when Fred spoke up. “We have another question.”

George added. “Not to sound accusing at all, we’re just curious.”

“You don’t have to answer,” Fred continued earnestly. Marcus apparently had enough of them dancing around the question and suggested they just spit it out, his face more amused than anything, the other two mirroring his expression. The twins exchanged a quick look and it was Fred who said. “Rosie included in the original contract she made with You-Know-Who that no one could be marked unwillingly by him—”

“— Did you ask her to do that?” George asked cautiously.

“No,” Marcus said evenly. “We were surprised to find it included.”

That didn’t surprise Harry all that much. His sister valued people who would stand by either one of them and it made sense that she found a way to protect these three men in whichever way she could. It was just that their protection needed a few other contingencies compared to the rest of them, considering their families. He had wondered why she simply didn’t say Voldemort couldn’t mark them, plain and simple, before realising that Rose hadn’t wanted to take their choice away from them. If either one of them wanted to join the ranks she wouldn’t stand in the way but she did ensure it was something of their own willingness.

“So you planned to take the Mark?”

Adrian cut in then with his typical heavy look. “No,” he said first off before he amended. “Well, not since before the Dark Lord truly returned. For me and Graham there’s always been a certain expectation that we would take it when He returned but we’ve both known we wouldn’t since before the end of the Triwizard Tournament. Told Rose as much.”

“What did you tell her?” Ron asked curiously.

“I promised that no matter what came next we would stand by her with whatever she chose.”

There were some raised brows at the wording and George dubiously asked. “Even if she chose Dumbledore’s side?”

It was a fair enough question. It was no secret how Slytherins in general felt in regards to Albus Dumbledore and when you added that two of these three men had fathers who assumedly already bared the Dark Mark— well it was quiet the promise to make to a fourteen-year-old girl who most had long since believed would be loyal to Dumbledore.

Sure enough the three of them grimaced faintly but Adrian told them. “If that’s what she thought was best, then yes.”

“Oh— you guys totally would have been Ro’s right-hand man if she took over the world,” Ron said in realisation. Harry barked out a loud laugh at his comment while everyone else looked to be a mixture of surprised and confused.

Marcus’s brows furrowed even as a smile pulled at his mouth. “What?” he asked slowly, as though he was unsure if he even wanted to hear whatever answer Ron had.

“It was something we talked about in our sixth year,” Ron told him with a grin, waving a hand between himself and Harry. “I asked Ro’ if she took over the world if I could be her right-hand man.” Now he gestured over at the three of them. “But now I see that it definitely would have been one of you.”

“Marcus, most likely,” Graham told him good-naturedly while Adrian nodded his own agreement.

The twins looked uncharacteristically serious as they eyed them. “Did you think she would? Is that why you stuck close with her?”

Harry raised a brow. To be honest, that wasn’t something that ever occurred to him. Probably because he knew that taking over the world was just the last thing on his sister's mind. But now that the twins asked it he wondered if the reason these three Slytherins first started hanging out with Rose, beyond the whole blackmail thing, was because they thought she would. 

Marcus was the one to answer, which didn’t surprise Harry at all. “After I actually got to know her I always knew Rose would change things but I also realised that she would never do it by brute force. Would never do it in a way that a Dark Lord— or Lady— would be most known to do so.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to see Rose isn’t interested in fighting and politics,” Adrian added dryly and he got murmurs of agreement.

Now Harry took the time to ask something that had been on his mind since he knew his sister added them to their list with Voldemort. “Would you ever take the Dark Mark? I mean, Voldemort is pretty sane now-a-days.” Fred and George looked over at him with intrigue when he voiced the latter comment but the three men Harry was originally speaking to all said a resounding no . “Why not?”

“Because we wouldn’t swear our loyalty to anyone who wasn’t Rose,” Adrian said in a simple enough tone, the other two nodding once in solidarity. 

Perhaps it was that simple. Despite how everyone liked to claim Slytherins were deceitful and underhanded— and they really could be at times— they were also some of the most loyal people around too from what Harry has learnt.

Sirius grinned and lightened up the topic then and there as he clapped Adrian’s shoulder. “Well, you’ll be swearing a lifetime of loyalty to Rosie soon enough.” He followed up his proclamation with a raise of his glass in a silent toast everyone didn’t hesitate to join.

Chapter Text

Despite Grindelwald’s recent attack two months back there still were a wide variety of international events and parties taking place. Oh, the security has most certainly been upped but even the best of Dark Lord’s could slip their people into the crowds if they were merely so motivated to do so.

Like the Dark Lord Voldemort for example.

France was hosting a party to celebrate the finalised alliance between numerous European countries as a way to secure all of their communities' safety. It was being held in a magical museum that was home to the largest collection of artifacts depicting the most ancient relics of magic’s history. Some were rumoured to belong to Merlin himself, though how true that was was for one to believe, the French assured everyone they were but there were skeptics among the masses. It was an incredible museum, with marble floors and charmed ceiling that depicted the constellations of the night sky. Most rooms were spacious with the exception of the displays placed throughout the room and the only one that continuously changed was the one used for a wide variety of exhibits throughout the year. One person in particular who was attending the party that evening was one of the Dark Lord Voldemort’s own followers; Draco Malfoy.

He was dressed in some of his best robes, a glass of champagne in hand, standing in front of a display of daggers that had a placement card with a description he hadn’t cared enough to read. The Dark Lord had been rolling more and more people out to foreign countries as of late to get any kind of whispers as to what Grindelwald may be up to. Tonight Draco was teamed up with a few others, all decidedly young in comparison to most— early to late twenties. 

Draco was told by his team leader— Bole to be exact, someone who traveled frequently for his job— to keep an eye on the newbies. Tonight would be the first recon mission for some, though most had been on fighting missions by now. Draco had been doing his best to make connections with the foreign joiners over the last few weeks, at his Lord’s request, and he found some of them to be rather unimpressive but other’s alright all things considered. His father had advised him to keep a closer eye on Gabriel Haas— a German Death Eater who signed up during one of the last markings before Grindelwald’s escape. 

The man wasn’t in attendance that evening though but a man named Milo Landry was. He was born and raised in France— could speak the language fluently— so he’d be more of an asset for their mission. He was the only foreigner in attendance tonight and the rest of the newbies were being watched by another Death Eater, so Draco spent most of his evening with Landry and the two chatted back idly as they roamed the museum together. 

His attempts at building connections with the foreigners had been mostly building bridges so to speak but tonight— with the atmosphere they were in and alongside their actual mission— he planned to glean information off of the boy.

Milo Landry was four years older than Draco— twenty four to his twenty. He wasn’t a particularly good looking guy, rather unkempt by Pureblood standards, but Draco could see that it was something done by design. He was a part of the Unspeakables and had been for three years now which might be partly the reason why his Lord was willing to let him join despite being French. He was also a Halfblood and while normally that would have Draco sneering, he withheld mainly due to the fact that, since the Dark Lord’s return, his father had reminded him seriously that their Lord was a Halfblood himself.

That was a fact that Draco had a hard time believing at times but he overlooked it due to their Lord’s immense power; something he doubted this Landry had.

“My mother raised me herself,” Landry revealed to him in a low voice. “Despite the harsh judgement she faced from her family— traditionalist Purebloods— she was happy to have me. I never knew my father and she never spoke of him.”

Draco hummed quietly as he sipped at his drink and the two of them stopped to make some conversation with some French Ministry officials. His eyes strayed to the crowds around them as they seemed to recognise Landry and immediately started speaking animatedly with him in French. Draco resisted the urge to fidget in discontent at not being able to understand the conversation but thankfully they moved on soon after that.

“What made you decide to join the ranks?” 

Without glancing at him, Landry murmured. “The Dark Lord’s cause is one worth fighting for. I was approached by some of his followers, I’m assuming because of my career choice, and they made a compelling case.” 

It was a rather typical response for most of the Dark Lord’s followers. The odd time you would get a more honest and at times unnerving answer of someone wanting to kill the Mudbloods and Muggles or the outright admittance of wanting to have power for themselves. Draco thought the man would have been more interesting with one of those answers but he supposed things couldn’t be that easy.

“How about you?” Landry asked curiously. “I’ve heard you are the youngest to ever join, so what had you doing so?”

Draco sipped at his glass with a mildly haughty expression on his face. “My family has always been loyal to the Dark Lord. It is an honour to be a part of his army.”

He determinedly ignored the fear and sick feeling he got the night his father had come to retrieve the Dark Mark. His mother’s horror was clear to see and the tense lines on his father’s face making his concern and worry vividly apparent. His shame about his falling in Slytherin only made worse by winding up in yet another situation that he was unable to find a way out of.

Thankfully Draco’s mind was taken off such things as they were stopped by three younger Pureblood witches. 

“Mademoiselles,” Landry greeted them with a voice thick with charm. “How are you this evening?”

He got a trio of pleased giggles and the one in the middle said. “I’m glad we didn’t miz tonight. Zere are certainly a wide variety of… people to meet.” The words held little subtlety and plenty of lure as she eyed the both of them. Holding back a grimace, Draco studied the three of them briefly, ensuring not to linger on any of them. 

They were rather average, all things considered. The middle girl, the tallest of the three of them and the one to speak, had long, curly brown hair and a heart shaped face accompanied by bright blue eyes. The one on her left was only about an inch shorter than her and she had short hair, up to her shoulders, that was a dark blonde and her eyes were a light brown. The third girl, the shortest of the trio, had her auburn hair pulled up into a bun which had the freckles on her face plain to see. Each of them were dressed in clearly expensive robes and jewelry and not one bore an engagement ring which didn’t surprise him.

“Well, it certainly is pleasing that civilised people can still enjoy each other's company,” Landry oozed smoothly. “What with the recent raid led by Grindelwald and the no doubt frightening time we are in.”

It was a downright Slytherin segue in conversation and hopefully it paid off; these girls reminded Draco of Pansy and her friends and if he knew them it meant they’d be more than willing to gossip with them.

Sure enough they all nodded eagerly and the shorter one leaned closer. “I imagine it will only get worse, especially since there are two Dark Lords,” she murmured to them and her accent was decidedly less pronounced than her friends.

“More damage is certainly to be had,” Landry agreed solemnly. “I wonder which of them will win out in the end.”

Draco almost stiffened at the doubt in their Lord but recognised just as quick what the man was doing. The girls shared a glance and one whispered. “I heard that Grindelwald is trying to make contact with the vampires.”

Freezing almost minutely at that news, Draco let out a low breath as he imagined how their Lord would react to the news. It could just as easily be rumours but he’d want to hear the news nonetheless; and would not be happy. “I’ve heard plenty along the same lines,” Draco chimed in with a drawl, his words accompanied by a falsely reassuring tone as he smiled at the three girls. “Usually it’s just rumours created by scared wizards.”

The shortest girl shook her head and the blonde told them. “Our friend is involved with a vampire.” Draco inwardly grimaced at that news but didn’t interrupt as she went on. “Apparently some of Grindelwald’s followers had approached him trying to get in touch with Molchalina.”

“Molchalina,” Draco repeated.

The one word had an eager expression on the girls faces and they readily informed them of who exactly that was. “Aleksandra Molchalina is the leader of the largest coven of vampires in the world. She is Russian and most vampires in Europe have joined her and they say she is almost three thousand years old.”

“Zat’s never been confirmed,” the middle girl added.

Draco was surprised at the age, of the vampires he knew of the oldest was just under six hundred years old. He had known the vampire population wasn’t nearly as large as say werewolves, largely due to the assortment of steps needed to actually change anyone and the close eye all Ministries kept on the vampire population in general. Not to mention that vampires couldn’t be exposed to sun without being burnt to a crisp which had their movements in general rather limited. 

“The vampire your friend is involved with is part of her coven,” Draco assumed neutrally. 

The two shake their heads. “No, that’s the thing, he’s one of the few that haven’t joined up. Those who are in her coven tend to stick together wherever she lives and while most vampires know where it is, humans don’t.”

“Grindelwald’s men simply wanted him to deliver a letter on his behalf,” the other one finished in a hushed tone.

Landry tilted his head as his eyes darted between the three. “Did he ever do it?”

“Our friend never said,” the short girl tells them rather regretfully, as though it bothered her that she hadn’t been able to relay every bit of information she could to them.

Draco shared a look with Landry and thankfully the three girls’ attention was called by someone else and they left, though not before the middle one brushed a hand against Landry’s arm with a sultry command to find her later. Again Draco resisted the urge to grimace.

Once they were well out of ear shot, the two Death Eaters moved to a more empty room and waved a hand to obscure their voices, Landry said. “I imagine our Lord will be pleased with this information.” Yet again Draco only hummed a reply as he started scanning the people around them to find Bole. Landry spotted him first and gestured subtly in the man’s direction. “People are beginning to leave now anyways.”

“We’ll tell Bole we’ve got information that our Lord will want to hear straight away and see what he wants to do next,” Draco said with a faint nod as they moved over in Bole’s direction. “Perhaps the others will stay around a bit longer.”

All in all, Draco was feeling rather pleased with his success on their mission, provided the information was correct.

The Order of the Phoenix had held up hope that Harry Potter would see what was right but eventually, as the war progressed and the attacks increased from both sides, they knew they could no longer wait around hoping for him to change his mind. The conversation they had with him last month only attested to that. They couldn’t stop Grindelwald for the time being with him so far away and not having a clue where to start really which was why they were working on Voldemort.

Moody had come to the decision that they needed to retrace Dumbledore’s last few months alive with the hope of finding some clue as to his train of thought during the time Dumbledore knew his end was near. It was the recent news that had adorned the cover of the Daily Prophet that inspired this line of thinking.

“Thanks for letting us do this,” Moody said gruffly to Minerva McGonagall. “And congratulations on the job.”

Despite being somewhat in the Order before everyone had taken a step back, and offering her aid the odd time they needed it, McGonagall never rejoined the Order following the official reemergence of the two Dark Lords. It wasn’t something Moody could really begrudge her for; mainly because for a long while a Death Eater was running the school so it was the smartest decision for her to be at Hogwarts to keep an eye on things. Now she was the one running the school and— unlike Albus— didn't seem willing to split her attention as she made her continued stance clear when they first arrived at this requested meeting. Still despite not being a part of the Order she was willing to help them out if they really needed it.

With the start of the school year soon to arrive, Moody wanted to search the place before the crowds of children amassed the halls of Hogwarts or, more importantly, the Headmaster’s office as they were thinking.

“I know Albus was hoping to teach the kid some things to help him get rid of Voldemort,” Moody grumbled as they shuffled into McGonagall’s office. “Whether or not that happened I’m hoping his information for just that is still here. Albus lived here year round, can’t imagine it being anywhere else. Only hope the Death Eater scum didn’t take anything important.”

The Headmistress’ office remained more or less the same with the past Headmasters and Headmistress’s portraits hanging up and various items spread across all the shelves. Dumbledore’s portrait was notably absent but that wasn’t out of the ordinary as it normally took some time before a new portrait was hung up with some kind of ceremony taking place which wouldn’t be likely to happen soon considering the two Dark Lords at large who had obvious histories with Dumbledore. (No use creating a lure for either one of them to come to Hogwarts) The Sorting Hat was perched in its normal spot and the area where Fawkes cage once sat was now empty as the Phoenix had vanished following Dumbledore’s death.

McGonagall eyed the three of them— Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hestia Jones— and she said. “Most of Albus’ things were given to his brother following his death but some things still remain here, the items that weren’t explicitly stated in his will.”

“I spoke with Aberoth,” Moody replied distractedly, his magical eye whirring about, and he waved a hand for Kingsley and Jones to begin looking around. “I took a look at the things he has and nothing of importance came up.”

The two Order members immediately spread out after being directed to start looking and took note of each item they came across. Some old knick-knacks, a few rare— but ultimately unimportant— books, an old magical detection device.

“Those twins still don’t want to fight,” Moody mentioned to McGonagall as he hobbled about slowly. 

McGonagall’s lips pressed into a tight line briefly. “I understand why. Those two have had a lot of fights in their life.”

“War is hard on everyone. That doesn't mean people should hide,” Moody grumbled undeterred at her staunch position in support of the Potter twins. “I imagine the boy would be willing to fight if his sister wasn’t so against it.”

“Rose Potter always seemed less about not wanting to side with the Light and more about not wanting to side with Albus.” McGonagall admitted quietly as Moody focused less on searching the office and more on their conversation. “Given his role in their lives she must have held a grudge.”

It was a glaringly obvious fact to anyone who even paid a bit of attention to either Potter twin. Rose Potter went to great lengths to avoid Albus Dumbledore and remove him from his role in her and her brother’s lives. It was something not many could criticize as there were times when even Dumbledore’s own followers were confused by the choices he made involving those twins.

“Can’t deny the mistakes Albus made with those two.” Moody finally said. “As far as I’m concerned, considering he knew the Prophecy’s contents and knew that Voldemort would return, he should have kept them in the magical world. Should have trained them from a young age instead of leaving them to be broken down by the Muggles they resided with.” He glanced over at Mcgonagall and firmly said. “But that doesn't mean the world should pay for Albus’ missteps.”

It was a fact that was discussed at great lengths in the more uneventful Order meetings. Some had been openly confused at why Dumbledore left the twins in the Muggle world. His reasoning had been to shield them from the fame they had and to keep them safe from any threats but in the end they had been blindsided by their fame when they finally returned to the magical world and they hadn’t been safe.

There were a good few who believed if Dumbledore had simply allowed the twins to grow up in the magical world then they both would have been more connected with it and want to fight for it. But ultimately it was a wasted effort wondering what might have been or why things went the way they did. In the end it wouldn’t help them now and so Moody was quick to shut down any talk of it when he heard it.

“Where did you get this?”

The two looked over at Jones when she spoke and she was pointing up at where a sword was displayed proudly on one of the shelves.

“It was found by the Potter twins in their second year,” McGonagall told them as she idly adjusted her glasses. “It was used to kill the basilisk that had been plaguing the school that year and is the sword of Godric Gryffindor himself.”

Jones’s eyes widened before narrowing. “Those twins sure are good at the impossible,” she murmured as she studied the sword carefully. 

On the other side of the room Kingsley knocked quietly against a shelf to get their attention. “There’s a drawer of memories here, what of the Pensieve?”

McGonagall looked at him and said. “It has been put in storage as it normally was. Albus had brought it out after the Chamber of Secrets incident and never put it back.”

“Anything of note in the memories?” Moody asked as he spied the small labels on each bottle.

Kingsley shook his head as he went over the labels for a second time. “Some are old court cases– the Lestrange trial, Karkaroffs. Others are simply ones belonging to old Headmasters and Headmistresses.”

It was a disappointing find all things considered.

“It was a tradition for those who ran the school to add a memory into these memories during their tenure,” McGonagall informed him readily.

Moody already looked disinterested as he began scanning the rest of the room once more. Given it was a finite area they were going over the same posts sometimes three times between each of them and they had been about ready to call it a day when Jones let out a gasp that had Moody’s head darting in her direction.

“What have you found?” Kingsley asked quickly.

“There’s a hidden compartment with these memories,” Jones told them all and she lifted a small tray of more memories. “None of these have labels.”

McGonagall stared at them with a mixture of emotions and she quietly said. “Those must be Albus’ then…”

Moody was already hobbling over to Jones. “We’re going to take them,” he said in half a request and half a demand.

He didn’t get any refusal as McGonagall nodded slowly but she did request. “If any of them are of sentimental value you will hand them over to whoever is involved in them.”

“Of course,” Moody agreed gruffly, as task oriented he could be with this war that didn’t mean he’d do anything to disrespect Albus in any intentional kind of way. He jerked his head for the two Order members to gather their things so they could go. 

Finding a Pensieve would be hard but they’d give it a go, if worse came to worse they’d ask to use the Hogwarts Pensieve. The only reason Moody wasn’t doing that now was because McGonagall had already done them a great allowance with this day and he wouldn’t push it too far. As they left Moody felt a stirring of determination and anticipation curling through him. Despite not having a clue what was in the memories he felt now more than ever that they were about to get answers on how to stop Voldemort once and for all.

Ron loved his job.

He spent a long time worrying about what he should do next— his last two years at Hogwarts in a silent state of constant panic painted to look carefree and unconcerned— and now he was doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing. He was sure of it. He never imagined himself having a job in the Ministry of Magic, even with his mothers constant pushing for him to go into that exact line of work, but he realised that when you loved what you did it made the more boring and hard parts worth it. Yes, being an assistant was tedious at times but everything he was learning was just fascinating to be a part of.

He worked in the Magical Children’s Care and Well-being Department and he wouldn’t lie, a part of the thing that drew him to it was how he grew up alongside Harry and Rose. He had always felt so helpless to help them when he knew they were struggling and he knew they weren’t the only kids going through those kinds of things. It was far too late to be of any help to the twins but he could help those kids, the future ones.

He wasn’t near high enough in the thick of things to be involved in actual legal cases where abuse and neglect were looked into but he was allowed to know about the pre-Hogwarts school that was being planned. He had been intrigued with the whole idea since speaking to Percy— his brother being the one who first told him about the department he now worked in opening up— and it was a surreal feeling to be on the ground floor of it all. In fact earlier in the week one of his supervisors had told him he could sit in on a meeting to discuss where they were at now.

Which was where he was now. They were in a large room that was like many others in the Ministry of Magic with a big round table that left everyone in plain view when they sat in the high-backed seats. There were a few plants against the walls and the typical Ministry of Magic emblem blazened high for anyone to see but other than that it was empty. It wasn’t an official enough meeting to warrant the Minister of Magic’s presence but there were some higher ups in attendance that Ron recognised. Carrington was the most notable but he was expected to be here considering he was the first to rally for their whole operation. 

It had been about half a year now since Ron first found out who the guy really was and he still couldn’t believe it.

The head of the whole new department was a man named Hadrian Greengrass, he was the father of Daphne Greengrass, a girl who was in Ron’s year at Hogwarts. He was from a prominent Neutral family, deeply involved in Wizengamot proceedings, was on the school board at Hogwarts and owned a magical daycare that resided in Diagon Alley— the only place in all of Britain to offer childcare outside of families and their house-elves. It was all of these impressive qualifications that earned him his current position and he was very dedicated from what Ron had seen so far. A relief really, they had put a temporary head of the department a while back and the guy was old, childless and clearly didn’t bother with any kind of education related issues since he was in school himself.

There were a few other familiar faces, some workers from the other departments joining in on the decision making since Carrington had stated he thought a variety of ideas in brainstorming were important so that nothing was missed. 

Ron’s brother Percy wasn’t in attendance for the evening though that wasn’t exactly a shock either as he was in a slightly different department though working on the same project. While Ron was working in the Department of Magical Children’s Care and Well-being— which was a branch off division of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement— Percy worked in the Department of Magical Education.

“Let us get the meeting started,” Greengrass called and Ron perked up in his seat as he readied his quill and parchment to take notes, as he was instructed to do by his supervisor. 

“As per procedure we will review the previous meetings decisions and should any new ideas or alterations arise anyone may speak out once the review is finished.” Greengrass started off firmly, his eyes on the main sheet of parchment in front of him. “We are gathered to discuss the future plans of creating a preschool for children before their Hogwarts years. It shall be done with the direct goal of helping Muggleborn and Muggle-raised children transition easier into the magical world as well as help foster friendships between children before they move away from home for their schooling at Hogwarts. 

“At our last meeting we had decided on the preschool starting age to be at six and will continue onward until the last June before they start their Hogwarts years. The school year will run from September first until June thirtieth and school days will be Monday to Thursday. School classes will take place in the morning from nine until three with an hour lunch break— which will run from twelve-thirty to one-thirty— and two twenty minute breaks for each part of the day. The students shall be placed in classes by what will be their Hogwarts years but the break times will be held all together in order for the children to make connections with one another outside of their age groups.”

Greengrass paused as he reached the end of his summary and looked over at them all. “With the last meeting's summary read, I am pleased to tell you all that the area where the school will stand has been decided on and a handful of architects have been asked to submit proposals for how it should be built.”

Ron resisted the urge to perk up excitedly at that news but he could see the pleased expressions on numerous people’s faces when Greengrass was finished speaking. 

A woman raised her hand briefly but spoke before she received any kind of acknowledgment. “Given the times we are in I vote that the school should be built in a place only a few would have direct access too.”

Her proclamation had murmurs breaking out and a man not far from Ron said. “That would be a hard thing to accomplish considering students and guardians would need access.” He didn’t sound dismissive about the idea but rather contemplative about how exactly they would achieve this particular condition.

“Perhaps we could set it up so that there is only a specific means of entrance and each student plus one adult would be given access.”

Ron frowned in thought at that; it was a good concept in theory.

“That is not something that can be managed with a Floo, loose lips and all that. Plus putting a protection ward like the Fidelius Charm would be too constrictive,” an older lady offered.

It appeared everyone was in agreement with the need to make the school more restrictive to unauthorized people. Ron wasn’t too surprised, if there was one thing most magical people agreed on in terms of what was of most importance it was almost always kids; it was just that people often disagreed on what exactly was best for said kids.

The Dark Lords couldn’t be entirely trusted though, there were those cruel enough to strike where it would hurt the most and did so by going after those who couldn’t defend themselves. The only reason Hogwarts had remained so safe over centuries was because of the multitude of wards surrounding it.

The school they were setting up would be much like Durmstrang from the sounds of it, in the way that no one would know where it would be, its location hidden from any and all means of tracking.

“What of Portkeys?” Ron’s supervisor asked the room.

“It will be more of a hassle creating new ones each day and long-standing Portkeys are known to malfunction after a while which would raise many safety concerns,” one man muttered in reply, his brow furrowed in thought.

Carrington suddenly sat forward. “What about Portals?”

His question drew all eyes and Ron felt his own brows raise. Portals were not a new concept in the magical world but were not frequently used due to their at times finicky nature. When creating a Portal from the start one had to include all locations that one could travel to, this meant if a future location was needed then whoever owned the Portal would have to create an entirely new one which in itself was a lengthy process. In comparison to Floo’s and Portkey’s, which were quick and easier to create and access, it was no wonder Portals had become a thing of the past.

“That could work,” a woman who Ron recognised as one of the floor supervisors murmured slowly. “If we make a series of public Portals for the families to use then the only locations the Portal would need would be the school and the corresponding Portal…”

“What of the issue of access?” Someone asked concernedly. “If they’re public Portals then anyone may use them.”

Ron’s head was darting in all directions as he tried to follow the conversation as closely as possible, his hand still steadily writing on his parchment. Everyone once in a while his eyes would dart down to make sure his notes were neat— a far cry from his notes when he was still at Hogwarts— and when he saw they were in order he’d focus back to listening intently.

Carrington was the one to offer a solution to that. “There was a finished Unspeakable project a few years back,” he recalled faintly, his head tilted as he tried to remember the details. “A group had succeeded in adding a feature to them that allowed a Portal to only be entered with an access-key, so to speak. The key in our case could be something as simple as a pair of bracelets. One to be worn by the child and the other by whatever adult accompanied them to the main ground for drop off.”

Finding out there was a section of finished Unspeakable projects at the Ministry of Magic— available to any Ministry workers— was an exciting moment for Ron. The things didn’t have the names of the Unspeakables who accomplished said things but that hardly mattered to most. All of the ‘finished’ projects were relatively harmless things and Ron was almost certain there were a whole other level of finished projects that were only for the eyes of those in the highest of positions at the Ministry of Magic.

“How else do the access-keys work?

“As the Portal needs an access-key to work the Unspeakables had incorporated a component where the owner of the Portal can choose the times their visitors come through,” Carrington relayed readily, his one hand moving almost unconsciously as he spoke. “We can arrange it so the arrivals to school will be purposely staggered to say… every two minutes— should a bracelet be stolen somehow— while our departures from school would be open for instant back-to-back transports.”

That made sense, Ron thought to himself with a furrowed brow. Should even more than one bracelet get stolen then any attacks could only be staged in a single person ambush and said person would have to wait three whole minutes before they’d have any kind of assistance.

More than one person seemed to reach the conclusion that Ron had and Greengrass said. “We could set up guards to be constantly at the ready at the school Portal but the public ones should be fine as they are.”

“Where will we set up the public Portals?”

Everyone began listing possible locations for public Portals and all were good options. Diagon Alley was the most obvious. Another in Centaur Alley. One in a large field at the centre of an area where numerous Pureblood manors lay over about five thousand kilometers of land. By the end of the avid discussion those were the decided ones but the other four— a total of seven Portals being the majority voted amount to use— were up in the air. Though some had said there should be a Portal closer to their more distant places like Scotland and Ireland since not all of their would-be-students lived so close to Diagon Alley.

“For the sake of unanimous decision,” Greengrass said as the discussion reached its end. “All those in favour of using Portals to transport students to the school, say aye.”

“Aye.” All those with a vote called as one.

“Excellent,” Greengrass called as he marked something on his own parchment. “Construction on the school is expected to start within the month, before Samhain at the latest, and the Portals will begin being built after that. Hopefully around Ostara.”

A woman with a tight bun spoke up next. “Can we go over the plan for the education and introduction of the school itself once again?” From the looks on a few faces she was someone who frequently asked for repeats on previous information but Ron was glad she asked it, eager to hear first hand what would be happening.

Greengrass nodded silently as he shuffled through a few papers. “The school year is set to begin in September of two thousand and two. We will start the process of informing Muggleborns of the magical world at the age of five and a half. The tracking of magical accidents will become far more extensive due to this goal, with an entire subdepartment being created to focus solely on just that as well as the protection of the Statue of Secrecy.

“It is our hope that the time point of first contact will allow the family six months to get used to the idea of the magical world— should it be needed— and ensure that they are open to the idea of magical pre-schooling when they reach the age of six.”

Someone who must not have been at the previous meetings where this was all discussed politely cut in. “What about Muggle school for kids? For many it is a mandatory thing and some Muggles won’t take kindly to their kids missing out on that.”

Greengrass nodded his head in a partial agreement to their comment and assured them. “The typical Muggle earlier years school subjects— English, Math, Science to a certain degree so long as it doesn't contradict magical facts, and Social Studies— have been added into the magical school curriculum. Alongside those are the teaching of subjects such as Wizarding Currency, Magical Holidays and Magical Customs, the latter meaning how to interact with certain people and companies— both in and out of the magical world.”

Ron imagined there would be some protest to the latter point for some Purebloods, since they wanted nothing to do with Muggles to begin with, but it appeared the department was set on their plans in terms of what would be taught.

Sitting straighter and his seat, Greengrass looked over at them all. “We are going to create a future where all magical children will be welcomed and receive the same teachings and opportunities as one another. This kind of school has long since been needed and will only create a stronger community for us all.”

The words marked the end of the meeting and had a literal chill running down Ron’s spine as he was filled with a thrum of excitement at the very idea. Merlin, he was getting as bad as Hermione used to be. As everyone began shuffling out of the room, some murmuring to one another as they went, Ron stuck close to his supervisor, his notes held carefully in his hands. He knew this had just been a meeting meant for a general overview of where they were at and to push certain plans forward— and that it would still be some time before it all really came together— but he felt as if he had just been a part of some true progress nonetheless.

“My kind stay out of human wars. One doesn’t live as long as I have by involving themselves in the affairs of mortals.”

“I plan to build a world where your kind no longer have to hide. Where you will be free to roam as you please without the fear of being hunted or killed.”

After months of planning in process, Gellert Grindelwald finally managed to secure a meeting with Aleksandra Molchalina, the leader of the largest coven of vampires in the world. They were in a Muggle hotel, high up in one of the penthouse suites, and the moon was winking in the sky. It was Molchalina who chose the meeting place and Grindelwald wasn’t foolish enough to refuse a location, the mere agreement to talk a miracle in itself.

It was his first time ever meeting the woman, no surprise there as it was said she rarely left her home, and she looked about how he predicted. The woman sitting across the dining table from him appeared to be about thirty. She had pale— and the typical soft-but-unmistakably-solid-as-marble looking— skin and her eyes were the dark maroon that bordered on black that most vampires were known to have. She had thick luscious hair that was a mass of perfect curls. Her voice, when she spoke, was deceptively soft. It was clear to see she was a woman who was used to being listened to without need to raise her voice.

“What would you ask of us?” She asked evenly. 

It wasn’t just the two of them in the room. While Grindelwald came alone, as instructed, Molchalina brought with her four of her own. Two stood guard outside of the doors in the hallway while two stood off to the side in the room with them. The uneven numbers did not concern Grindelwald in the slightest, he had a plethora of escape methods ready should they try to attack, but he still maintained a subtly readied stance in his muscles.

“Nothing soon,” Grindelwald promised smoothly as he clasped his hands in front of himself. “Only for now, that you ignore any attempts of contact from the British Dark Lord.”

“After that?” She pressed undeterred.

Grindelwald didn’t hesitate to be honest about what he wanted, tilting his head as he simply said. “Attacks. One more than likely during wizarding events where they will be unprepared.”

The vampire studied him in silence for a long while and Grindelwald didn’t let it unnerve or concern him. “And if you win, my kind will be free to roam. Would we be judged and punished for feeding or creating more of us?”

“Of course not,” Grindelwald assured her smoothly.

He would have promised nearly anything to convince her to aid him in this upcoming war and he felt he was truly on the precipice of doing just that. Molchalina was one who typically steered clear of the masses for the most part for very valid reasons. Valid reasons she was addressing outright.

Centuries ago— back when magic hadn’t been so hidden— the greater population of vampires had been hunted and nearly wiped out, which led to this group's reclusiveness. The only vampires who continued to roam somewhat freely were the ones who had humans who would vouch for them. Researchers more often than not but even that was a rare thing to occur.

Despite popular belief vampires could go a great deal of time between feedings. A single human completely drained could last one about twenty years and partially drained could sustain them for about five years. Those that fed more often did so out of gluttonous greed and a need for power. After a feeding a vampire's power slowly began to wane but those who fed frequently would become more powerful or would continue to maintain their highest strength. It was said that the older a vampire got the farther they could go between feedings. Molchalina’s desire for isolation only seemed to prove this fact to a great many interested in studying the creatures, citing it was what aided her in hiding for so long without being spotted.

Even with all the years that had passed since being hunted to near extinction the population of vampires still remained low. Mostly attributed to the series of steps and contingencies needed to turn a mortal a vampire.

In order to turn someone first a vampire must spend three months— every single day— drinking from the human and have the human consume their venom in return. (The doing of which would weaken the vampire temporarily.) At the end of the three months the human had to be completely drained and then buried on Holy Grounds. Since vampires are unable to enter said-areas they would need the aid of someone who could do so— which not many were willing to help with— and the drained human would be buried six feet under ground on the new moon. If the human was able to drag themselves out of the dirt and off Holy Grounds before succumbing to death their transformation would be complete. If not they would die a human death.

The whole thing was a process Grindelwald had looked into greatly back when the idea of immortality called to him. Ultimately he decided the drawbacks far outweighed the benefits. Forever stuck in the shadows and being hunted or openly watched by most. His attention had then turned to the Deathly Hallows insisted— or rather the concept of the Master of Death. Grindelwald still believed in its truth, just as he knew Albus had as well, but he had been waylaid by his war at the time before he could truly commit himself to hunting down the other two Hallows, so long as he had the Wand he felt he could accomplish the majority of his goals. Besides, while he believed in the existence of all three Hallows— knew for a fact they were real— and was intrigued by the concept of Master of Death he was still somewhat hesitant in believing that it would truly guarantee one immortality. Power? Absolutely. Which was why he worked hard to hunt them down but immorality? He was back and forth on that.

The brief thought had his mind jumping to Rose Potter and a sharp stab of irritation filled him at the memory of her escaping from him back in June. He hadn't planned to attack the Potter twins so soon— or more accurately Rose Potter— but when he saw they happened to be at the German party he took the opportunity for what it was. Finding answers and attacking.

Grindelwald would have to wait longer now to finish what he started. He was not yet happy with the current standings and size of his army, wanting it to be vastly stronger before he truly ventured into Britain again. His first attack, the one in Hogsmeade that announced his true return to leadership, had been a mere warning, his next one would be triumphant. In order for that to happen he needed to ensure he could defeat not just the British Ministry of Magic but the younger Dark Lord as well.

He had more important plans before he began tangling with Voldemort on Britain soil and it was only after he was done with those plans that he would kill Rose Potter. He would gain the allegiance of the Elder Wand once more then kill Voldemort once and for all.

“If we agree to this alliance, when would you have need for us.”

Grindelwald focused on Molchalina when she spoke up again, her question more of demand than anything else. “Not for another year,” he promised at once. “Maybe less but no sooner than next summer.”

Molchalina narrowed her eyes. “I will not agree to anything completely but I will keep an open mind.” She pushed herself to a stand, her presence just as encompassing as it had been when she first entered the suite, and she said. “I will find a way to keep in touch without need of a messenger.”

He followed her lead as he stood, tucking on arm behind his back as he offered her a small respectful bow. “I gratefully accept your tentative agreement,” Grindelwald assured her quietly. “I hope we will one day expand on it even more so.”

“For now I will ignore any kind of recruitment by this other Dark Lord— should he try to do so,” she said in the end, leaving the room without any further farewells, her guards all quick to do the same.

Grindelwald didn’t linger long in the Muggle hotel, Apparating directly to his personal manor, and as he strode down its halls he felt a thrill of arrogant triumph curl through his chest. He didn’t know if Voldemort planned to try and approach the vampires— in this war or his last— but it pleased him greatly to get an agreement that would have the younger man incapable of using them against him in the future. His spy in Voldemort's ranks was proving to be rather useless for information these days but he was certain it was because the man knew about his leak and started to taper off any kind of spread of valuable information.

When Grindelwald got to his main office he dropped into the seat behind his desk and his eyes darted to the paper of the Daily Prophet he left behind before his meeting with Molchalina. 

Azkaban Cleared Out!

He had read through the thing more than once since receiving it and it held nothing of true importance barring one fact. All the prisoners had been released from Britain’s prison and the dementors had left the building behind. It was the latter fact that was of value, the fact that the dementors had now joined Voldemort’s cause meant Grindelwald would have to keep an eye out for them from now on. Not all the prisoners were Death Eaters and a Europe wide manhunt had begun, the only evidence of who was behind the breakout was clear as day in the way of Voldemort’s Dark Mark left behind, painting itself across the dark sky.

Grindelwald’s spy did come with some information, the latest being that the other Dark Lord was looking to track down the leader of the werewolves— or at least the leader of the largest singularly lead pack— Fenrir Greyback. One of Voldemort’s most loyal followers, by the name of Avery, had been sent off. Apparently he was the one always trusted in tracking anyone Voldemort wanted. Plus the giants have officially joined the man’s cause and the dementors were now at his side.

Grindelwald did not let any of that worry him though, especially since he now had the vampires in an agreement for an alliance.

Another bit of information he received that was definitely noteworthy was the rumour that apparently the Potter twins were not targets of the younger Dark Lord. Considering their particular past he was surprised to first hear this and he got the feeling Albus was unaware of that fact before his death. He had yet to get details on that piece of knowledge but he would keep an eye and ear on things should more information come along in some way.

Also regarding Albus, his irritating ‘Order’ was now starting to get in the way of his plans, a few of them had even ventured out of Britain to get involved. He supposed it was too much to ask that they focus solely on Voldemort— he wasn’t too worried about them though as he knew their homegrown Dark Lord would certainly take precedence in their mind, leaving Grindelwald himself to foreign fighters closer to him. He had spared a lot of thought to his old friend over the last few days, one because of his Order of the Phoenix being nuisances, the other due to the latest news of rumours he’s received.

Apparently there was talk of the British Ministry of Magic soon celebrating magical holidays in the way of protests coming from the Muggleborn community over their exclusion in regards to them. Whether it would gain traction would remain to be seen but Grindelwald did wonder what Albus would have had to say about it had he still been alive. Merlin knew the man loved to coddle those Muggleborns so.

“My Lord.”

Without a look up, Grindelwald waved Gregor into his office as his thoughts kept going. If the celebration of magical holidays did commence it would offer prime places of attack in the near future. Grindelwald didn’t feel nearly confident enough in the skills of his army just yet but perhaps later in the following year.

Finally he glanced up. “Gregor, what do you have for me?”

“My grandson is making progress within Voldemort’s ranks, my Lord.”

Grindelwald smirked. “Excellent.”

After nearly a year of research and gathering information Hermione Granger truly felt a lot more knowledgeable on the topic of magical holidays. It took a lot of time and effort— especially since she had to work around her already busy work schedule— but she found what she could on the subject at hand and now had a portfolio of information to share with anyone who wanted to learn what she had learned.

“I put together a written proclamation and portfolio,” Hermione told Rose in her typical determined and eager tone of voice. “I plan to put it forward to the Ministry of Magic and I’m putting an ad in the Daily Prophet to make copies of the portfolio itself available to anyone who requests it.”

The two were sitting together in the library of Grimmauld Place. Hermione had asked to come over after work and Rose was all too willing to have her company. Harry was out with Ron, the two of them doing whatever it was they did together, while Sirius was having some kind of gathering with some business partners. Rose was mildly surprised that Hermione had decided to stop by and visit as she knew the girl's work schedule had gotten busier and her side project also had a lot of her attention— with her opening statement upon her arrival it now made a lot of sense why she came by, her project was finished. The two of them were sitting at one of the few tables in the library, the only one big enough to fit both of them and their belongings, and they had just enough room that their things weren’t overlapping. 

Rose was impressed with her friend's tenacity but wasn’t all too surprised. She had long since learnt that Hermione never did anything by halves. The proclamation sat closest to Rose, the portfolio, a much thicker piece of information, a bit further away. Scattered around these were various notes that Hermione had made and a few scrapped drafts of her initial writing.

“I want you to read it over and give any opinions you may have,” Hermione said as she twisted her hands together. “I gathered other Muggleborns to discuss it, as well as get their support on feeling slighted at the Ministry of Magic’s actions, but I want a more Pureblood perspective.”

“I’m not a Pureblood.”

Hermione shook her head. “I know, but you have been celebrating the holidays for years now and you have first hand knowledge of the more upset Purebloods’ stand on this… you know, with your friends.”

Rose relented at that, not that she was opposed to reading Hermione’s writing, and picked up the proclamation first.

To the British Ministry of Magic,

We, as Muggleborns, have been recently made aware of the existence of magical holidays. We are surprised and affronted to learn that you as our leaders have been purposefully hiding magical traditions from all Muggleborns. In an attempt to make us feel welcome in the magical community you have in fact excluded us even more so than the people who protest our presence in the magical world.

Rose smiled at the blatantly pointed out irony.

We, as Muggleborns, demand that the British Ministry of Magic stop treating us as children who do not, and can not, know better and take honest action in welcoming us as true members of the magical world.

The recent plans for the preschool are doing just this but technically that has yet to actually happen and the vast majority don’t know about all its details just yet.

While Muggleborns face a great deal of prejudice, it is largely due to that which we are not made aware of. Firstly the magical customs and expectations that we have no opportunity to be taught but mostly the magical holidays that date back as old as time. 

It is the British Ministry of Magic alone that is outlawing and trying to ignore magical holidays, as multiple other magical communities and their Ministries openly celebrate them with pride— as they should. Not only that, but they offer the tools and opportunities for their people to celebrate them and encourage any visitors to their countries to join in as well.

The Ministry of Magic’s need to overcompensate in the aftermath of numerous wars has only harmed our community greater rather than made it better. 

It is understandable that the blame does not lie with the current Ministry of Magic alone— this was decades, maybe even centuries, in the making— but it is the current Ministry of Magic’s duty to make changes instead of sitting back and allowing things to continue as is.

We, as Muggleborns, truly hope you take our words to heart and understand that we will not stop until the celebration of magical holidays once more becomes an open and proud thing as it once was. It is time that we be truly welcomed into all aspects of the magical world, not just the ones the Ministry of Magic thinks we should be welcomed to.

Signed, Muggleborns of the British Magical Community.

All in all, it was very well written. “Are you going to release the proclamation in the Daily Prophet soon?”

“No,” Hermione told her hesitantly as she took the proclamation back from her, eyeing it carefully yet again. “Maybe in the future if this doesn’t gain traction but for now I’d rather give the Ministry the opportunity to make changes before doing something that could look like a verbal attack on them.”

Rose nodded her head, silently agreeing with that, but it would be amusing if Hermione had gone straight for the throat from the start instead. Without commenting further she reached forward to snag the portfolio next, dragging it closer to herself and turning it to the first page.

It started off with the very first thing Rose read about when she started to learn more on magical celebrations; the Wheel of the Year. It was written in Hermione’s tidy scrawl and Rose spared the thought that the girl likely should have found a typewriter or even a Muggle computer to write the whole thing out. Then again perhaps it was better handwritten, it showed a more personal and true desire to learn and share all the information inside.

There were even diagrams drawn inside two, the actual wheel of the year sketched out on its own page. The Wheel of the Year being a ‘wheel’ meant there was no true beginning or end but Rose knew most considered Samhain to be the true beginning of the year. Then again others thought it was the end but ultimately it was something that differed from family to family and each holiday was honoured equally nonetheless.

Each of the sabbots were listed out along with the typical basis of information; what each one stood for, the symbolisms for each, what one could do to celebrate them. Rose mostly skimmed through all this, it being information that she had long since become familiar with.

“You were very thorough,” Rose murmured to Hermione absently as she continued to turn pages. Further to the back were the various rituals one could do on each day plus the certain spellworks that were typically used too.

“It’s all right?” Hermione reaffirmed eagerly as she peered over the edge of the page Rose was on to see what she was reading over. 

With a soft hum, Rose continued flicking through the pages. “The basis is,” she agreed but couldn’t help but remind her. “Some aspects are treated differently depending on families though.”

Hermione was quick to nod her head as she hurriedly said. “I took that into account. I just wanted to be sure that I had the foundation of it all.”

“It sounds good,” Rose promised, her eyes darting up to offer the anxious girl a reassuring smile. “It’s informative without being overwhelming.”

“I’m a bit nervous to present it but I know it needs to be done.”

Honestly, if this were back when they were still in school, or back when Dumbledore was still alive, she’d have good reason to be nervous. Fudge himself was a Minister who didn’t like change, especially the kind that could draw him some scrutiny or criticism. He no doubt would have silenced Hermione before she truly grew a voice while Dumbledore would have offered his wise-but-mostly-condescending advice to convince her to leave the topic alone.

Passing the portfolio back to Hermione, Rose said. “You can probably take comfort in the fact that the Ministry is already headed down this line with the new project they have coming up.”

Hermione looked very relieved to hear that, sitting back on her couch with a soft sigh with the book clutched to her chest. “Ron said the same thing. I hope it means that my proposal will be accepted more readily.”

“I’m confident it will be,” Rose told her in a sure tone. “Though they might wait to take any visible action for when the new year comes along in January.”

While the Wheel of the Year had no true end or beginning, the years in terms of numbers certainly did and from what Sirius taught her and Harry the Ministry of Magic liked to start off their newer, big ideas at the start of new fiscal years. It made sense, she supposed, from a more business angle.

“I considered that,” Hermione said quietly as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “That’s why I plan to wait to release my proclamation to the Daily Prophet in February if nothing gets done.”

Rose laughed. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” she offered. 

Tom would likely jump on this project in order to push his own plans forward— the fact that it was being endorsed by Muggleborns themselves only increased his likelihood of accomplishing it. 

She chose to change the subject then, sitting up straight as she asked. “How is work going?” 

“The Ministry has become so busy lately,” Hermione told her at once as she put her portfolio back on the table between them. “One would think all this extra work would mean people wouldn’t have time for tea and such— but no.”

Huffing a soft laugh at that, Rose murmured. “Perhaps they keep forgetting their drinks somewhere when moving about so they ask for new ones instead of finding them.”

Over the last few months there had been an increase of attacks around the European magical world by Grindelwald and Voldemort both. One of the more prominent and fear-inducing ones was the release of every Azkaban prisoner and the apparent disappearance of the dementors that dwelled there. That attack had added a great deal more work at the British Ministry of Magic with even other foreign Ministries readying for possible convicts escaping into their countries.

Rose wasn’t too concerned about it though. One because she didn’t exactly roam many places, two because she— and her brother— knew the Patronus Charm and she felt confident in her defence capabilities and lastly because the Dark Lord was required and wanted to keep the twins safe by any possible means. Didn’t mean she wasn’t subjected to conversations surrounding the topic but none troubled her too much.

There was a pause.

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Hermione said consideringly, her tone borderline cross as she really thought it over. 

“I imagine you're learning a lot more at a more rapid pace though,” Rose said distractedly as she thought the idea over and how the Ministry of Magic was running in times of war. “You’d think in times of high stress people would delegate the lower priority tasks to whomever they can.”

Merlin knew there were enough Ministry workers who liked to make a show out of their careers. Now that actual emergencies were happening they’d be forced to really step forward to aid the Ministry and as such would need to entrust their more manageable tasks to their assistants and other underlings.

“I am,” Hermione said in a pleased tone. “My supervisor has given me a list of things that need filing that normally he would handle but with everything happening with the escapees and such, all Aurors— not just field workers— have been asked to start patrolling and searching for them.”

Made sense. There were plenty of levels to the Auror department in the Ministry of Magic, just as with the Unspeakables, and there came a point when one moved high enough that they weren’t needed out in the field. They became supervisors and oversaw the workings within the Ministry of Magic itself. Until times like now, when more bodies were needed sooner rather than later.

“How is it with Scrimgeour in charge?”

Rose’s eyes darted up just in time to see Hermione grimace slightly. “He is very skilled,” she said politely before hesitantly tacking on. “But he’s rather overzealous about things.”

Rufus Scrimgeour, after losing out as Minister of Magic, had been given Amelia Bones’ previous position as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She had already heard a bit about the man from her godfather and wasn’t unaware that he was always trying to get a meeting with her and Harry— not that either one of them would agree to such a thing.

“Sirius said he’s like a politically inclined Gryffindor.”

“That sounds accurate,” Hermione admitted as she put down her quill and leaned forward on the table. “I think he’s like if you took the more obnoxious habits of a Gryffindor and the manipulative qualities of a Slytherin and then mixed them in one person who is good at politics.” She had never spoken a word to the man but Rose already hated him and Hermione clearly read the thoughts on her face as she giggled quietly. “Is Harry still busy learning stuff from Sirius?”

Rose shook her head with a frown. “No, Harry was pretty much done back in June. I think he’s just hesitant about actually taking over the Potter Lordship. Sirius isn’t rushing him though.”

A part of Rose also thought Harry was hesitant to take the mantle during their current times. War certainly added a more complicated twist to a lot of things so she figured he was trying to hold out until things calmed down once more before dipping his toe into the world or Pureblood politics.

“Are you worried about taking over? Whenever Sirius decides to step down?” Hermione asked slowly as she began fiddling with a nearby quill.

“No,” Rose said honestly. “I feel like life in Slytherin somewhat prepared me for what it will be like— and I handled the Slytherin House great.” Her words had a faint note of teasing arrogance in them and she caught Hermione’s quirk of a smile.

Hermione didn’t offer a comment after that for a few minutes but when she did speak up once more it was in a careful way that confused Rose. “You and Harry are very different, one would think growing up so similar would have you being a lot more alike.”

Pausing at the comment, Rose quickly began thinking of where this conversation was headed but her responding words remained the same regardless. “As different as we are, we are very similar in a lot of other ways.”

“That’s true.”

Rose couldn’t deny Hermione’s first comment. She and her brother did both grow to be very different people. They shared the exact same life for the first eleven years but the way they chose to evolve was— from an outsider perspective— very in contrast to one another. Rose didn’t want to build connections, did so reluctantly a lot of the time, whereas Harry craved them. He longed for someone to care about them both. She wanted to know the ‘how’s’ of the universe but he wanted to know the ‘why’s’. She was fine with her family just being the two of them but he always longed for the big family dream that they once spoke about as children.

But as different as they were, they were so similar too. Both untrusting of adults for so long and always trying to do everything on their own before asking for any help that wasn’t each other. Both trying so hard to find themselves a happy life in almost everything they did. Both searching for answers in some kind of way no matter what they came across.

When it came down to it, Rose thought their similarities and differences made them both better as a pair. They were well rounded and capable of anything together, both of them filling the gaps the other had and never leaving each other behind.

“But you certainly chose different types of paths in the past, one in Gryffindor the other in Slytherin.” 

Rose raised a brow silently. “The Sorting Hat chose those particular paths for us,” she reminded her evenly.

“Well— yes— but you both knew you wanted to be in each House. Even though you knew how dissimilar they could be,” Hermione corrected herself with a slight stutter, her words running together.

“I suppose so…”

Hermione went on as she sat up straighter. “Even your personal connections. I mean— Harry was very eager to make connections, his friends in Gryffindor and Sirius but you— you were always slow to do so, you always had a bit of disinterest in forging those connections.”

Disinterest wouldn’t be the word Rose would use, perhaps distrust would be better. Yes, she was always very vocal about only needing her brother and just beyond hesitant about letting people into her lives, but it wasn’t due to disinterest. Rose was a firm believer in the adage ‘once bitten, twice shy’. She had gotten bitten— as had her brother— so many times by their relatives and she let the lesson sink in.

Maybe Hermione thought Rose would take offence to her observations because she suddenly said urgently. “Not that it precludes yours and Harry’s relationship— of course! If anything I admire just how close you two are able to be even if you have different stances on things.”

With a soft hum in reply, Rose suddenly understood where this was going.

“I also admire how you two are able to continuously find a common ground when it comes to decisions that affect both of you.”

This conversation was one a long time coming really, Rose had been prepared for it ever since Ginny had talked to her the summer before their sixth year. Ever since the younger girl had relayed a conversation between Rose’s two closest friends following her and Harry’s sixteenth birthday.

“Most people can’t look past certain contrasting opinions, especially in times of high stress, but you both can see when things need to change and when to stand your ground.”

Rose wondered how long Hermione had practiced this speech. If she had been preparing for it since after the Weasleys decided to step out of the war. Since after Dumbledore died. Perhaps only since Voldemort truly decided to make his presence known to the masses. Regardless of what the answer was, Rose had no interest in hearing the rest of what was no doubt a long winded persuasion for her to change her stance on the war.

“You know when we were children Harry and I were very similar,” Rose cut in when Hermione paused long enough to take a breath and the girl shut her mouth with a faint click of her teeth. “Beyond similar really. We were both so eager to make our relatives accept us— love us. We thought if we did everything right then one day we would be deserving enough to be treated as they treated their son. It was around the time our uncle first laid hands on us that I realised it would never happen.”

Hermione seemed to freeze at the latter comment and whatever words she had apparently died in her throat.

“Perhaps Harry would have kept on hoping had it just been him but the thing was if one of us messed up there was no guarantee who was punished and one of the sickest feelings came from one of us being punished for something the other did.” Rose huffed as she gave Hermione her fullest attention, her words firm and to the point. “We started to become different after that. Harry tried his best to please but also remain in the shadows. He primarily chose to be positive and think about the future, one where we’d be free of them. I, on the other hand, closed myself off. I went silent and built up my walls but I too looked to the future like my brother did.

“When we came to the magical world we both believed it to be a fresh start for us. A whole world of people just like us, no longer would we be the outcasts or freaks… Only that wasn’t the case.” Rose shook her head as she felt a simmering anger in her chest. “When I found the books about my family, the history of our tragedy printed on the pages of multiple books for anyone to read about, like we were fictional characters in a storybook and not real orphans abandoned when the dust settled, I was in disbelief. Then we got to Hogwarts where the judgement and discrimination only thrived more. Me as soon as I was Sorted, Harry whenever he did something that the masses didn’t like… They loved us. Then they hated us. Back and forth. Back and forth.”

When Rose mentioned their return to the magical world Hermione had looked almost hopeful. Perhaps she related to the first part, she herself not having many friends growing up and then coming to the magical world and— after a few months time— finding people she belonged with. That wasn’t the case for the twins though. It just wasn't in the cards for them. 

Leaning forward, Rose made sure to meet Hermione’s eyes head on. “I have a lot of reasons to be bitter, to want to seek some kind of revenge… but I am a pacifist at heart. I won’t involve myself in war because I just don’t want to let all of that emotion into me,” she said heavily, her words growing sharper. “And believe me. That is a good thing. Because there is no doubt in my mind that if I wasn’t a pacifist then I sure as hell wouldn’t be the hero the wizarding world has long since been ready to take advantage of.”

Letting out a deliberately deep breath Rose closed her eyes as she tried to dispel the growing emotions twisting cloyingly inside of her. “But I am above that. I won’t let the past distract me from living a happy life– the life my brother and I always dreamed of.” When she opened her eyes she found Hermione staring at her, the quill clutched in her hand now broken from her tight grip. “I know what you’re doing. You’re hoping that you can change my stance because you feel certain that if I do then Harry will join the war too— because you think I’m the only reason he isn't now— and you think if Harry joins then the Weasleys will join. And all of that means you won’t have to feel guilty or conflicted any longer.” 

Without glancing down Rose pushed the portfolio Hermione spent the last year working on closer to her. “I won’t change my standing in this war,” she told Hermione flatly, knowing she needed to be upfront and deliberate about this now. The time for dancing around the subject was long since over and her friend needed to hear this. 

“I love you,” Rose assured her quietly, the first time she ever told the girl those words directly. She was not typically so vocal with those types of affirmations but felt the need to make sure Hermione knew it because of what she would say next. “You are one of the most important people in my life and I’m grateful everyday for you. But I won’t change who I am for you.

“I didn’t change myself for the wizarding world. I didn’t change myself for Dumbledore. I didn’t change myself for my relatives as a child. Staying true to who I am and what I believe in is something I promised myself I would always do before I even knew what my name really was.” Rose swallowed back the worried feeling in her throat at finally having this conversation with Hermione and pushed on with another subtle deep breath. “Do you understand?”

Hermione nodded silently with wide eyes.

Rose nodded in turn and pushed herself to a stand. “You are a grown woman. One perfectly capable of making her own decisions. If being involved in this war is what you want then you should do it but at least have the decency to not try and manipulate or guilt those closest to you into doing the same.” The words were harsh and she could practically hear Harry’s cautious scolding tone in her mind but Rose ignored it as she stepped back from the table to leave.

“You should go home now.”

Chapter Text

Magical Celebrations!

Magical Connections?

Since the dawn of magic there have been celebrations entirely devoted to acknowledging the significant periods throughout the year. They are customs— and rituals— that help to renew the strength of not only a family’s magic but magic as a whole. The celebration of each of the major and minor holidays provided the opportunity to bring people together and allow them to honour the customs as old as magic itself. [see page 8 for where to request a portfolio on these customs]

In recent studies conducted by numerous researchers throughout Britain it has been found that the strength in magical potency and the rate of magically born people and creatures has dropped significantly in our country over the last century. This is not taking into account the wars that have been fought in that time; events that, if anything, should have had magic thriving with their constant battles but that hasn’t been the case.

The British magical community needs to stop denying the fundamental truth. We are letting magic die out.

It seems it's not just those born directly into our world who believe that either as recent rumours say that Muggleborns have now been made aware of the vast celebrations that have been hidden and shunned aside in their supposed defence and are now indignant and horrified.

Magical community members— Pureblood, Halfblood, Muggleborn— Light, Neutral, Dark— it is time we embraced our traditions truly once more so that magic may thrive once again. Thrive as it does in our neighbouring countries that never stopped celebrating these traditions. It is time to renew our connection with not only our roots but with each other too.

[see page 2 for more]

Tom stared idly at the cover of the newest release of the Daily Prophet, the feeling of gratification practically swimming through his veins. He was sitting in the cafeteria of the Ministry of Magic and barring himself there were only three people inside. Not unsurprising considering it was just before six in the morning so the first rush of people who would come in for their morning shifts was still a little under an hour off. He had met up with some colleagues who were consistently busy with various tasks and asked to meet either at five-thirty in the morning or eight in the evening.

He was a Dark Lord and even he didn’t have such a tightly packed schedule.

Still, Tom wanted to speak with them both, the trio was heavily involved in the upcoming changes to international travel and he wanted an ear on things. Not that he said as much, he told them his interest lay with their business in residential real estate in the magical world and he was looking to purchase a property.

When it came to today’s article he was the one who got that particular piece published, wanting to further grease the wheels of the Wizengamot in preparation for the plans of reinstating magical celebrations. Hermione Granger’s efforts have proven to have some sway over the last month as the subject has been brought up more frequently in Wizengamot sessions lately. More than a few Lord and Lady’s, of all affinities, had been quick to urge the idea on since it was clear Muggleborns had no fear or distrust of their traditions and now were instead feeling offended at being excluded.

The exact opposite of what the officials who started leaning away from these practices wanted to begin with.

Someone pulled the empty chair out across the table from him and Tom looked up to see Rose Potter sitting down. He raised a curious brow at her presence. “I’m surprised you’re here, given the hour.”

She hummed quietly at his opening statement as her eyes darted to the paper between them. “I’ve been here for about three hours already, I had a thought I couldn’t leave alone last night.” That explained it, Tom himself was the same when he got going with research of some kind, needing to see things through if he was suddenly struck with a thought that wouldn't quiet. Before he could inquire about the said thought, Rose waved a hand to the Daily Prophet. “What were the benefits in releasing those in Azkaban?”

It wasn’t anywhere on the front page, though there was an article about it further in the paper, but Tom supposed she was asking now because this was their first time running into one another since it happened. Either way, he didn’t hesitate to tell her the truth. “One point is that the Aurors’ attention will be divided, the other is that the dementors will be free to join my battle against Grindelwald. It was a necessary move as I’ve heard whispers that the man is trying to recruit vampires.” The girl raised a brow at that and Tom faintly remembered her youthful fascination with the creatures— the run in she had with the vampire that was accompanying some writer at one of Slughorn’s parties coming to mind.

Tom wasn’t too worried about Grindelwald’s latest moves. Mainly due to the fact that he himself had a good relationship with the giants and was working on tracking down Fenrir Greyback now.

“You know I find myself surprised at your decision to marry,” Tom voiced next, his tone neutral despite his interest in the subject. He had yet to actually speak with Rose Potter since news of her engagement broke, not having been able to attend her engagement party and so busy with other business that running into her just hadn’t been happening. Plus with the protection necklaces he gave to the twins he had let himself step back from the two momentarily but he doubted that would last. Back when he first heard of her engagement Tom had been surprised; mainly because he had unconsciously placed Rose Potter in the same type of category he had placed Bella herself in long ago. Bella, in the end, had been married off by her father which Tom understood was out of her hands but Rose was choosing to marry the man.

Rose drummed her fingers faintly along the tabletop and said. “Marriage was the expected outcome for Adrian and one he could no longer avoid. While getting married wasn’t a goal of mine I detested the idea of sharing him with another, so…” she trailed off and let Tom fill in the blank.

He supposed he could understand it somewhat from that angle. He had heard in great detail what this girl had done to the persistent heiress who sought out Pucey’s spare and the cruel— and to some, blood thirsty— response had amused him greatly. Tom himself was a possessive man but more with things; items that he felt were his and his alone. He had never truly found himself possessive of people so to speak, the idea seeming too close to needing someone for his proclivity. His inner circle was perhaps the closest he got but even they were more like things in his mind and he most certainly wouldn't tie himself to them for life just to keep them.

“Harry tracked down the middle brother’s family line.”

Spurred from his thoughts, Tom took only a split second to comprehend just what Rose was referring to and he was unsurprised Harry Potter managed to figure it out. The boy was about as stubborn as a Hippogriff when it came to mysteries and his occasional passion projects. Still, he withheld any kind of visible reaction and raised a brow in a silent prompt for Rose to go on.

“It was your family— the Gaunts,” she told him outright and was quick to follow it up with a probing question. “Do you have any family heirlooms from your mother’s line?”

Tom lifted his hand to showcase his ring by way of answer and when he spotted the considering glint in Rose’s eyes he didn’t hesitate to take it off so she could examine it closely. After all, the stone inside had long since been replaced with a regular, but pricey, black opal.

As she twisted the ring between her fingers Rose asked. “Is this all you have?”

“Yes,” he answered truthfully. “Nothing else had any significance or value and I was thorough with my search of their… home.” Home was being generous; the place his remaining blood relatives had resided in was a shack at best. “They depleted the Slytherin bank accounts and, besides this ring, Slytherin’s locket was the only other item that seemed worth taking and it wasn’t even them who had it.”

Rose had a frown on her face as she studied the ring, fingers trailing along the edge of the stone, and she looked up at him contemplatively. Her skepticism was well warranted given who he was and it was right on the money too. He wasn’t worried about her reading anything off of him though, he had long since mastered the art of concealment. She’ll figure it out soon enough though— figure out that the reason the stone in his ring wasn’t of any significance was because it wasn’t the original stone.

No— the original stone, the stone her brother was so determined to find, was gifted to her some time ago in the guise of a protection necklace.

Not that the necklace wouldn’t protect her— or her brother— they would. Tom wasn’t stupid, or mad to be more accurate, any longer by any means and he wouldn’t leave his Horcruxes vulnerable. But Rose Potter was a clever girl and with her brother’s obsession with solving puzzles he had no doubt the two would eventually figure out they had the Stone already at some point in the future. As she handed him back his family ring Tom spared the now frequent thought on how endlessly curious he was to what their reactions would be whenever that day came.

“Tell me about your recent research.”

Teddy had become a rather fussy baby as of late; why exactly was anyone's guess, he was a baby and babies did do those kinds of things. Either way, Remus and Tonks had been feeling a bit stressed between late nights and a crying baby so in mid-October Harry and Rose had ordered the couple to take a night off so they could spend time with their godson. Now Teddy was with them at Grimmauld Place and he’d be having his very first sleepover with them while Remus and Tonks would likely sleep the whole time he was gone based on the circles under their eyes.

It was just the twins and Teddy home for the time being— well Kreacher too but he wasn’t around— as Sirius was off doing some family business and then said he had plans to visit Narcissa and then Andromeda. They were sitting on the floor in the living room on the large rug that took up the space between the couches and fireplace. The immediate area had been cleared away, with the coffee table moved to the side and the couches pushed back, to make room for them. Teddy was in the centre of the rug while Harry and Rose sat on either side of him, watching him carefully all the while.

“Look, Teddy! It’s a dragon!” 

Harry was chattering away to their tiny godson and Rose eyed the various toys that were splayed out, stuffed animals, rattles and teething rings. Teddy was now at a point where he could move about, a recent development, it wasn’t quite true crawling but more of an army crawl where Teddy wiggled himself places.

It was very cute.

Despite his well-known fussiness lately Teddy appeared to be in good spirits today, a fact that had both twins silently relieved. They had made this plan with the idea in mind that Sirius would be around but forgot about the plans he mentioned having set up in place long before they decided to volunteer as babysitters.

As Teddy babbled away at Harry, no actual words forming as expected, Rose wrinkled her nose at the trail of drool that never seemed to stop falling from his mouth. His hair was a wild turquoise colour at the moment but it had been a deep brown when Remus and Tonks dropped him off. Typically when they had visits with Teddy it was over at Remus’ cottage as the couple didn’t want to make a habit out of Flooing or Apparating with Teddy.

Bill and Fleur were the same way with Victoire which meant she was a baby the twins didn’t see as often. More often than not when the Weasleys wanted to see her they’d go to the couple's home but there was the odd exception where Victorie would be brought over instead.

“Do you think you and Adrian will have kids?”

Rose startled at Harry’s sudden question and she glanced away from Teddy to her brother. He was watching her curiously, his eyes darting to Teddy and back to her as he waited for an answer. “We haven’t discussed it,” Rose finally answered slowly. It wasn’t too unexpected that Harry would ask it, considering how they were spending their evening.

Harry tilted his head as he watched Teddy again, moving some toys closer to him. “But it’s expected of him to have some, right?”

“Not necessarily. Adrian is second in line, his brother would be expected to have heirs. Which he does— one at least for now.”

“You would be expected to have some though, for the Black family right?”

Shaking her head, Rose said. “Not really. If I don’t have kids then your second child would be the heir to the Black family. The same way I became it since you were born first.”

To be honest ever since Rose found out about the whole heirship thing, and her and Harry’s place in it, she had figured that was how things would go. Her brother would carry on both family names with what children he’d have and Rose would simply be the aunt who handed over the title when the time came.

Harry frowned as he thought her words over. “What if I don’t have any?”

“I know you will,” Rose said softly with a small smile that only grew when he shot her a prompting look. “I have no doubt you’ll have a big family with definitely more than one kid.”

Harry laughed at her sure tone but Rose was completely serious. She always knew what Harry would do when they got older— that he’d recreate the childhood that the two of them never got and experience all the family dynamics they’d murmur late at night to each other in their cupboard. That he’d ensure that each of his kids knew how loved they were and would make so many amazing memories with them.

She watched as her brother poked at Teddy’s chubby cheek, the baby grabbing at his finger before he tried pulling it to his mouth. As Harry gently tugged his hand back he asked. “Do you want kids?”

Rose is quiet for a beat, heavily considering her answer in her mind. “I’m not sure…”

“Why not?” Harry asked softly, his question not condemning in any way, it never was, but simply sounding like he just wanted to hear what she was thinking.

“I’m not sure I’d be a good parent.”

Harry scoffed at that. “You would be.”

Rose shot him a fond look at his confidence. “I’m pretty sure you’re obligated to say things like that,” she commented dryly.

Pointedly ignoring her skepticism, Harry said. “You always do your best to make sure the people you love are happy. That’s all parents really gotta do.”

It sounded rather simple when it was said like that but Rose knew it was far from it. Having children was not something to be decided lightly, it would be a whole human being that a person would be responsible for. There were so many things to keep in mind and from what she’s seen there were plenty of Purebloods who didn’t do that, only wanting to ensure their family name lived on rather than making sure they had a healthy lineage. Rose didn’t want to be anything like that, didn’t want to have kids unless she was certain it was what she wanted.

“I don’t know,” Rose finally said in reply to Harry's firm points. “I’m a bit worried that my bar on what’s good for a child will be exceptionally low considering how I grew up…”

“So you think I won’t be a good dad?” Harry countered in a stubborn way, like he was trying to find holes in her logic and knew she just set him up for it.

“Of course not.”

“We have the same childhood.”

Rose huffed, well able to see where Harry was going with this, and rolling her eyes she said. “It’s not the same.”

“How?” Harry demanded indignantly.

It would forever leave Rose unbelievably fond and amused at how Harry would get so defensive on her behalf— even if it was against Rose herself. He was so quick to stop her negative ways of thinking or to offer positive assurances in regards to the things she did. Rose was quite the same for him and it was a quality the two of them hadn’t lost in the slightest over the years.

Still, Rose would not be Rose if she didn’t fight her points. “You’re open and trusting— all the things a parent should be— I’m not.”

Now Harry didn’t have an immediate retort. While he was forever defensive of her he couldn’t exactly deny the validity in certain qualities of Rose. Her being distrusting and closed off was just a fact that everyone knew about her. She had been told by numerous people over the years— her therapist, both the one she and Harry saw as children and now the one they both got referred to after they came of age, most frequently— that it was something she should work on but Rose was of the opinion that if she made it this far in life the way she was then why should she change?

Being distrusting was a smart move considering their lives, being distrusting had saved their skins countless times. The same was to be said for being closed off, if Rose had been an open book during their Hogwarts days then Slytherin— and the rest of the school— would have eaten her alive.

“You can be,” Harry said quietly, his eyes on where Teddy was now army crawling his way across the rug. “Maybe not with strangers, or even all our friends, but you are. Even when we disagree you always make sure I feel like I have a choice.” Teddy had reached Rose by now and his insistent grabbing at her leg had Rose picking him up and sitting him in her lap facing Harry. He began babbling happily at the movement, waving his arm about and narrowly avoiding her chin. Her brother smiled at them both. “I think if you decide to have kids you’ll be great at it… and if you decide not to then you’ll be a great aunt.”

Rose’s expression softened at his words but she didn’t reply, letting one of her fingers get captured by Teddy as he waved it about. To be honest, this wasn’t something that needed to be discussed now. Even if she did have kids one day it would be years from now so she had time to think things through. Besides, this was a topic of conversation she’d rather have with Adrian all things considered.

“Are you looking forward to the party?” Rose asked then, changing the subject easily and glancing up at her brother.

Harry was going to a party with Ginny. 

His girlfriend had a weekend off after travelling a lot more lately with the Holyhead Harpies. Ginny was loving the whole professional Quidditch experience even if she was only on the reserves for now. She said that even just being able to practice in the official arenas was surreal. Despite the war that was now upon them all the Quidditch series has managed to keep going. Though if the times came that the games started getting targeted by either Dark Lord then it would no doubt bring the series to an abrupt end for obvious safety reasons. Ginny was choosing to enjoy things while they lasted.

The party in question was being hosted by one of Ginny’s teammates and for the most part it was just professional Quidditch players and their various plus ones; which Harry was too. There were a few others that likely got personally invited by the host themselves for some reason or other but the place wasn’t overly packed when they arrived. Harry already forgot the name of the host of the party but he recognised plenty of faces in the crowds. As he roamed through the groups of people he realised, unsurprisingly, they were all talking about Quidditch and he knew Rose would have hated it here.

Harry ran into Oliver Wood not long after he and Ginny arrived. Oliver was Harry’s first Quidditch Captain at Hogwarts and had always been downright fanatic about the spot. He was happy to hear the older man was doing great on the team he was scouted onto after he graduated. No longer on the reserves, Oliver now played regularly and was making quite the name for himself.

Much to Harry’s surprise— and excitement— one of the people he came across, amongst the random few he didn’t know, was the caretaker guy from the German castle Grindelwald attacked Rose at! He had long since lost track of Ginny, with her introducing him to few ones she wanted him to meet before they both got caught up in their own conversations. Harry had been on his way to find her again but was quick to change his course when he spotted the man.

“Hello.”

The man looked over at Harry when he greeted him and recognition seemed to spread across his face. Whether for meeting Harry in Germany or because of the whole Twins-Who-Lived thing was anyone's guess though. Either way Harry struck up a conversation and was relieved to finally learn the man’s name was Otto.

“What has you here this evening?” Harry asked curiously, already trying to drum up the connections between Quidditch players and German castles.

“I know most Quidditch players,” Otto told him easily, his hand cupping a wide glass of wine. “I am the head of a team of people that set up where Quidditch matches are played.”

Oh— well, Harry wasn’t expecting the answer but it certainly made more sense than his spindling theories.

Still, another thought came to mind. “Why doesn’t each official team have a home arena and just circle the games between them?” It was something Harry had wondered a lot about in the past, mostly because he knew how Muggle sports worked with their arenas and such. He had thought that Quidditch would be the same— the Quidditch World Cup being a special exception— only to learn that the arena’s constantly changed.

“They used to but it grew hard to decide where each one would be based since the teams are not based by countries or cities like in Muggle sports,” Otto informed him easily as he gestured about. “Plus there was a whole debacle a while back citing that those who had familiar ground had an advantage with claims of the Snitch favouring specific areas and players recognizing that. As such it was switched to a new arena each time.”

Harry hummed quietly, finding himself surprisingly interested in the fact. “It sounds time consuming,” he couldn’t help but note.

“Not so much with magic,” Otto said with a smile. “Though there are teams, if popular enough, who do create a home base for training.”

Yeah, Harry always forgot about the whole magic thing when it comes to certain tasks, one would figure he’d be used to it by now. He dismissed the thought for now, would probably ask someone else about it at another time, and went back to the main reason he approached the man. 

“We’ve met before,” Harry told the man intently, watching his face carefully. “At the German Ministry party a while back.”

Otto nodded his head agreeably. “I know. One doesn’t forget their first meeting with the Potter twins.”

The words didn’t leave Harry as uncomfortable as they would have in his youth so he brushed past them with ease. “Can you tell me the whole story about the cursed king?”

He got a mildly surprised look at the request but Otta acquiesced nonetheless. “Some time ago there was a royal family who decided to construct a castle worthy of their name,” he began in a smooth voice. “They had been a humble family, one that cared greatly for their people, but then came the cursed king.”

Harry felt anticipation thrum through his veins. He spent the last how many months thinking about this story, wishing he could hear the whole thing. He had even debated tracking the guy down to hear it but Sirius’ outright refusal of him and Rose leaving the country after Grindelwald’s open attack against his sister had stopped him.

“The king’s curse, they say, began when he was simply a prince. He was the youngest of four sons and it was said he made a deal in an effort to become king. Unlike the rest of his family he was a man filled with greed and arrogance and apparently he heard rumours of a Being that could be called upon with great powers. He struck a deal with it as a ploy to get rid of his brothers and father, only the Being wasn’t one to listen solely to those who called upon it and the prince’s deal was twisted. Once a request to rid the world of his older male family members it was then turned to rid the world of all of his family’s blood— himself included.

“One by one his father and brothers began dying in order from oldest to youngest and the prince— now king— heard what was to come and went mad,” Otto’s voice had grown more and more solemn as he spoke and Harry was practically holding his breath. “He tried his best to ensure he was the last of the bloodline, hoping to appease the being enough to leave him be. First he killed his last sibling, his younger sister, and then they say he tried to kill his own two children— succeeded with his eldest son but died before he could kill his spare.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he heard the lengths the mad king apparently went and Otto was scowling by the time he spoke of the cursed kings’ sons.

“The youngest son became king following his father’s death and refused to pass on the curse he knew his family was under and instead died alone.” Otto shot Harry a conspiratory look as he said. “Those who were in the castle as servants— like my family once upon a time— had revealed the only unknown person they had seen shortly before the family’s fall was a mysterious figure in a hooded cloak.”

The reveal had Harry’s mind immediately going back to the tale he had been so obsessed with lately; the Deathly Hallows. He knew at once Rose would dismiss it, there were plenty of hooded figures in stories and two coincidences were hardly a pattern.

Otto ended his tale there as he said. “The prince had apparently been warned about the Being. Plenty have tried to barter deals with it and failed.”

“I can’t imagine why or what the prince would go to for a deal if his family was already so powerful…”

Shaking his head, Otto solemnly said. “That knowledge likely died with him.”

“Harry!”

Turning around, Harry spotted Ginny approaching him with a happy smile. “I have a few more people I want you to meet,” she said as she reached him, nodding at Otto friendlyly at the same time.

Harry nodded quickly and looked back at Otto. “Thank you for the conversation,” he told him politely, echoing the words Sirius had long since taught him to say when wrapping up a conversation with someone. Otto smiled in return, thankfully not put out at all about having to tell the story despite the setting they were in. 

For the rest of the night Harry’s mind was caught up with everything he had been told, replaying Otto’s words in his mind constantly so he didn’t forget a single detail. He felt a bit guilty about the fact as he couldn’t remember a single name of the people he was introduced to for the rest of the evening. Still the satisfaction of having his curiosity sated ebbed the feeling for the most part. 

An unacceptable tragedy has been revealed.

That tragedy being that Sirius hasn’t had a proper birthday party since before he was sent to Azkaban. He had been thrown in Azkaban the night before his twenty-second birthday and made the decision to just not celebrate it since being released and then being declared an innocent man.

Which was unacceptable to Rose. Given Sirius’ birthday was on the third of November the twins were always at Hogwarts for it and stuck to just mirror-calls on the day of and then when they were travelling they were in the middle of a whole exploration trek that the day just snuck by them— honestly keeping track of days on vacations were never their strong point and they took a while to get used to post-school ways— so they never did a party then either and last November passed by in such a quick blur that Sirius, yet again, snuck it by them.

Honestly, for someone as outgoing and social as Sirius he was very adept at avoiding this particular celebration. Rose half wondered if he was nervous about celebrating it for the first time without their parents but that was going to change now. Sirius’ birth was a thing to celebrate as far as she was concerned and about a month ago, at the start of October, Rose already made up her mind that she was going to throw their godfather a party. 

He seemed fondly amused for the most part as she determinedly told him her plans and promised to be nothing but compliant when the day came.

Which was today. 

For Sirius’s birthday she invited all the regular people they spent their time with and rented out a nice restaurant. It wasn’t so nice that it required a specific dress code but nice enough that the food was good and it wasn’t entirely uncommon for the place to be rented out. It would be just their family and friends tonight, with all the staff laid off— with pay, Rose made sure— for the evening and the owner, the last to leave after Rose came to set up, said it would be theirs for the evening but a rather regular customer would be by to pick up an order in the later hours of their party. He was quick to promise they would be quick and discreet about picking up his order though.

Rose had no issue with that, already somewhat aware of who it would be based on previous conversations, and promised to lock up the place behind her at the owner's behest.

The restaurant was fairly large with the main counter near the door and rows of stools in front of it, a set of booths against the farthest wall and the rest of the place filled with tables. The decor was an assortment of bright colours that somehow managed to not clash horribly and one of the walls had fun frames of pictures and mirrors. The front window was made of stained glass that only added more life to the entire place and the floors were a simple white tile.

The place was the first restaurant Sirius took the twins to after they started living with him and the staff were always happy when they came in to eat. Partly why Rose chose it for the location of Sirius’ birthday.

She and Harry had added a large banner right in the direct view of the front door— one handmade by the twins with Rose’s tidy scrawl saying ‘happy birthday Sirius!’ and Harry's scattered designs all around the empty spaces. All the tables were put together to make one large eating area and the gifts that were brought in were quickly deposited on top of the front counter waiting to be opened later.

Out of everyone Rose invited for the party the only Weasleys who couldn’t make it were Charlie and Percy— but Fleur and Victoire did make it. Tonks and Teddy made it to the start of the party, the first almost hour, before Teddy had started to become particularly fussy and she decided to take him to her mother’s so he could nap, thankfully she insisted Remus stay for a while longer when the man had seemed he was going to follow.

“Forty-one years old,” Fred said suddenly with a shake of his head after they finished blowing out the candles on the cake and singing happy birthday. “Merlin, can’t imagine getting that old.”

“Hey!” Sirius said in affront though his growing smile took any heat out of his reaction and everyone else laughed. “I’ll have you know I’m still in my prime of life.”

Which was likely true, considering how long wizards could live to be. Sirius certainly didn’t look his age with a distinct lack of any greys and his general attitude emitting a rather carefree and young feeling. 

His cake had been a simple one, the twins getting it from a nearby shop in the Muggle world, and it had a rather cartoonish caricature of the man of the hour on a motorcycle with a crown on his head. Harry had been the one to pick the design and Sirius had laughed delightedly when he first saw it.

George grinned as he took a piece of cake when it was handed to him. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, man," he said and he got a half-hearted swat to the back of his head by BIll but Sirius didn’t take any offence as he dug into his own cake.

“You planned a good one, Rosie,” Sirius told her through a mouthful.

Rose accepted the praise with a tilt of the head as she continued to hand out plates of cake to those who still needed one, pleased that Sirius liked everything. She was just passing one to Marcus when the shop door opened behind her. She knew exactly who it was without looking for two reasons, one being previous conversations she had with the man himself but the second was the way Hermione’s hand darted up into a wave.

“Hi, Mr. Carrington!”

Her voice was bright and happy and Rose wondered if she would stop greeting the man all together once she was free of the contract she signed. Handing off the last bit of cake to be delivered to Bill, Rose glanced over her shoulder at Tom as she sat back down to eat her own slice. 

Tom smiled briefly at them, reaching out to snag his takeout bag off the counter where it had sat waiting since the owner left, and he approached their party smoothly. “Hello Ms. Granger. Happy birthday, Lord Black.”

Sirius accepted the words graciously, though more concerned with his cake than the Dark Lord himself. Rose always wondered if it bothered him that they were in a somewhat civil place with the man. When it came down to it Tom had killed their parents, two of Sirius’ best friends. Sure he had been mad at the point, lacking any true form of humanity, but still, that wasn’t always a comfort to some.

The twins were more in the boat that they hadn’t really known their parents. They were abstract enough that they could look around it to a certain degree but Sirius did know them— loved them.

Perhaps his desire to see Rose and Harry live a long life far outweighed any lingering revenge or anger he had. Or perhaps he saved all of his anger for the ‘friend’ that betrayed them all that dreadful night. Maybe he was simply too hurt by the actions— or inactions— from the Light side that he was now willing to overlook the actions of the Dark side. It was always easier to accept the painful deeds of an enemy than it was of a friend or ally after all.

“Mr. Carrington,” Mr. Weasley greeted politely, more familiar with the man than most of his family since they both worked at the Ministry of Magic. He offered an introduction to his family, starting with his wife and then the children of his who didn’t get Carrington when he worked at Hogwarts.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’ve heard plenty.”

“All bad we hope,” Fred said teasingly and he got a scolding look from his mother.

George only laughed at his twins’ remark and he looked up at Tom consideringly. “Our brother and his friends say you were quite the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor,” he offered by way of conversation, narrowing his eyes as he studied Tom critically, clearly weighing the validity of the comments he heard in the past.

Tom smirked faintly. “I tried my best.”

From next to Bill, Fleur soothed a mildly fussing Victoire as she asked. “‘ave you alwayz ‘ad an interest in Defence Against ze Dark Arts?” 

The man eyed them for a moment before he finally admitted. “Yes. I applied for the position when I was much younger.”

When Rose first heard that fact she had wondered a lot what might have happened had Dumbledore just given the man the job. There would be no curse on the position of course but what would have Tom done from within the halls of Hogwarts? Tom had already created a Horcrux at that point but maybe he would have been slowed down at creating others if he had been tied up with teaching. Then again maybe being directly in Hogwarts would have only spurred him on faster, allowing him to scout out followers a lot sooner rather than waiting until they graduated and entered the adult world.

Mrs. Weasley looked politely confused at his words as she repeated. “‘Much younger’? You look plenty young now.”

Now Tom smiled absently and his eyes trailed to where Rose was slowly eating away at her cake. “They don’t know who I am,” he said rather unnecessarily.

There were plenty of confused faces at the comment but Rose noted Remus wasn’t one of them which didn’t surprise her. She had known when she first told Sirius about Tom that the man would tell Remus about it eventually— if not immediately. In reply to Tom’s unasked question, Rose only shrugged. “It wasn’t my information to spread about.”

That only amplified the confusion around the table at large— barring the few who knew who exactly Tom was of course— and by way of explanation Tom simply flicked his fingers towards the door and removed his ring in one smooth motion. It didn’t take long for the Weasleys to realise who he was; not when his eyes, once blue, bled to red and his skin paled drastically. A few of them immediately tensed but Rose had to commend them for not visibly showing their fear. The three Slytherin men, Harry, Sirius and Remus were the only ones who didn’t have any kind of reaction. Rose supposed Ron and Hermione hadn’t expected the man to be so cavalier about his identity and, honestly, she had to admit she hadn't either.

Mr. Weasley was the first to break the silence that had descended over them all and his voice was carefully neutral. “You’re working at the Ministry of Magic.”

“I find there are times when getting my followers to do something simply does not work,” Tom offered in turn with a benign smile that looked out of place with his current features.

Bill shifted his body slowly in front of Fleur and Victoire— the two technically not under any guarantee of safety or protection from the man, Fleur not even in the know of why the Weasleys had backed out of the war which no doubt would lead to conversations after this. One Rose or Harry would likely have to be involved in so it could even happen— and he said. “You’ve been a big backer for the magical care-home for orphaned and abused children…”

Merlin knew Percy had gone on about it since reconnecting with the family. He was more than happy to share stories of his recent work and they had all been happy to hear it; Ron going as far as to apply for a position in the department connected with Percy’s own. 

In direct contrast to Bill’s unsaid point, Tom only replied. “Of course.” He garnered multiple disbelieving looks and added. “I myself was an orphan— or so I believed for many years.”

It was a fact that was not a surprise to the three Slytherins— the House at Hogwarts was always well aware of the basics of the Dark Lord’s history, that he was thought to be a Muggleborn at first then definitely a Halfblood— and Ron, Hermione and Sirius who each had heard the tale of the Dark Lord directly from the twins themselves.

Tom apparently decided to offer the rest of his history freely then, in the wake of the surprise of the majority of them. “I was born in a Muggle orphanage in nineteen-twenty-six and lived there until I came of age during the height of Grindelwald’s and the Muggles' war. The caretakers there were not unlike Rose and Harry’s relatives, they knew there was something different about me and they both feared and hated it.” Tom huffed softly and told them wryly with a grin. “On one memorable occasion, when I was six, they even brought in a local priest to give me an exorcism. They thought I was the Devil.”

The latter fact was news to all of them, though Harry and Rose knew about his caretakers being decidedly less than present.

The party guests were stunned at what they were hearing and Tom carried on regardless. “When I entered the magical world it had been a riveting thing— both a blessing and a curse, I suppose. A blessing because I finally knew I wasn’t alone, that there were a whole world of people just like me, but a curse because once I got that letter the wards that tracked magic outside of Hogwarts were put up around the orphanage. Suddenly the one bit of protection I had was taken from me. It was only two months out of the year but they were long. I had asked the headmaster at the time if I could stay at Hogwarts during the summer but was told it was not possible.” 

Tom turned back to the original point of conversation after that as he told them. “It was always a goal of mine to establish some kind of care-home for children like myself. I would have liked to grow up in the magical world, even if it was just in another orphanage. At least I would have been around people like me.”

“What changed?” Fred asked boldly, ignoring the censorious look from his mother and brothers.

“I lost my way,” Tom admitted candidly. “Once I arrived at Hogwarts I threw myself into my studies, the best option really given I was believed to be a Muggleborn and was Sorted into Slytherin.” Shooting them a look he slyly added. “You can imagine how well they all took to me. My studies were my escape, a passion of mine. I was top of all my classes and kept to myself, skilled beyond my peers and well liked by the staff— the dedicated orphaned Slytherin who broke all the expectations that awaited them.”

His words had some eyes darting over to Rose but they continued to listen on in silence.

“When I left Hogwarts it was like having a vast amount of opportunities set before me. Muggleborns— like I was thought to be by the majority— were even more restricted back then for what jobs they could do so I chose to study more.” He waved a hand about absently as he spoke, his eyes flicking between each of them confidently as he did so. “Along the way I lost a piece of myself, so consumed in bettering myself that I didn’t realise what I was giving up until it was already long gone— and by then I didn’t care.”

As they listened to him speak they were all suddenly hit with the realization of exactly how this man had swayed so many people to his cause— barring Adrian, Marcus and Graham of course. The way he spoke was confident and at ease and he had a charismatic air about him as he told his tale, spoke his truth, and it wasn't impossible to imagine people wanting to join his goals. While everyone knew the Dark Lord as fearsome, as using dubious means to get people on his side, most often forgot that a good percentage of his followers had joined of their own free will. Had been charmed and honestly believed in what he stood for.

Tom glanced over at a nearby clock hanging on the decorative walls and shot a look towards the twins in Sirius, he gave them a sanguine smile as he said. “I hate to leave so soon but I’m supposed to meet with the Minister soon.”

“Thank you for the quick visit,” Rose offered in turn, well aware that neither her brother or Sirius would have the words at the moment. The rest of the table watched in silence as Tom slipped his ring back on once more and took his leave, pausing long enough to leave a tip on the restaurant counter as he went.

There was a heavy silence and then—

“Bloody hell,” Ron said in a gusty sigh.

“Ronald!” Mrs. Weasley reflexively scolded him but her voice was faint at best and her hand was still clutched around her husband's arm.

Fred turned to look at the twins. “Is what he said true?”

Harry shrugged one shoulder. “According to what I learned from Dumbledore over the years… yeah, it is.”

Honestly, the table's faces were going to get stuck in perpetual disbelief at this rate and Rose absently noted the considering looks of Adrian, Marcus and Graham. While Slytherins knew the basics, she imagined Tom wouldn’t have made his treatment at the hand of the Muggles who raised him common knowledge. She was a bit surprised at his willingness to share anything at all but she supposed he hadn't said anything that could be used against him in any impactful way.

Him revealing his identity… Well, she figured it was a bit of an eventuality that the Order would figure out his identity and the vast majority of people wouldn't believe that Carrington of all people was the Dark Lord in disguise. Not with the actions he was taking and his well crafted backstory.

“Isn’t he supposed to be mad?” George asked next.

Ron huffed. “That’s what I said when I found out.”

He drew a few glances but Bill was the one to voice what they were thinking. “You knew.”

“The twins told me and Hermione back in March.”

With a frown, Ginny said. “You didn’t say anything.”

“We couldn't,” Ron replied at once with a wave across the table. “Ro’ made us sign—”

“A contract,” multiple voices said at once. 

Some looked over fondly at Rose at the reveal and she only shrugged repentantly. “You are free to discuss it now. The contract you signed said if you found out through anyone else then it would be essentially void.”

A fact that Tom knew as Rose had mentioned the details of it when she first told him that she let her friends know who he was. She wondered if he had assumed she’d tell everyone on her list about him, given his surprise at them all not knowing who he was when he first joined them.

“Mr. Carrington is directly responsible for, and involved with, the latest schooling program,” Mr. Weasley said quietly.

Rose nodded her head at that. “He probably would have liked something like that when he was a kid too.”

Fred and Geogre exchanged a glance and came to a decision as they both said. “It sounds like he was a lot like you when he was younger, Rosie.”

They got shot various looks at their comment— some in censor and others cautious— but Rose only grinned as she leaned forward. “Why do you think Dumbledore never liked me?”

It wasn’t a fact that could be openly denied. It didn’t take a genius to see that while Dumbledore always tried to keep the twins close it was Harry he seemed to favour. Those who had briefly been in the Order were even more aware of Dumbledore’s mild distrust of her.

“And he never even officially confirmed that you were a Parselmouth,” Harry said casually which had Rose laughing and Sirius shaking his head in fond amusement at them both.

“That was a defining moment for Slytherins when they found out,” Marcus added quietly. “It made most older years nervous considering the other similarities we already noticed.”

Rose huffed and loftily said. “That’s when my popularity in our House really soared.”

Her comment had Adrian and Graham both snorting.

“Uhm— hello.” 

They all looked over at Bill when he spoke and found him looking at them rather incredulous— it was probably the most ruffled Rose had ever seen the man and she was sure she was much too delighted about the fact. “We’re all being way too casual about the fact that one of the most powerful Dark Lords around is just working at the Ministry of Magic.”

“What is there to do,” Adrian remarked evenly with a raised brow. “We’re staying out of things.”

Once again glances were exchanged but Rose noted Hermione’s was particularly sharp, as though looking for doubts on anyone— looking for any possible allies on her swaying loyalty. The two of them had yet to have an actual conversation since the day they spoke about the war. Oh, they saw each other enough times but they danced around the topic— it was like they both decided that neither one was going to bring it up out of fear of destroying their long standing friendship.

“It’s kind of a relief to know he’s not completely mad,” Ginny said from Harry’s left, swiping at the icing on the side of the cake with a finger. “At least he’s sound of mind enough to remember to uphold the deal.” 

Rose pointed over at her. “That’s the right way to think,” she praised the girl and got a cheeky wink in return.

Not wanting the big reveal to derail or sidetrack the party, Rose decided to cut off the line of conversation there as she stood. “We should do gifts now.” 

The tone of her voice had them all knowing it was not an option and most were happy for the change of subject, all wanting to absorb this information away from a crowd and think on it more, but there was no doubt this would all get brought up again eventually.

Chapter Text

“At this rate I think you have a wider selection than they do.”

Since getting engaged Adrian Pucey has found himself to be undeniably pleased with his life. He had been before to a certain extent but was weighed down by uncertainty and the dread of possibly marrying some woman he wasn’t in the least bit interested in. Now that was a thing of the past and a ring sat on the left hand of arguably one of the most powerful women in Britain publicly tying the two of them together for all to see.

At the moment he and Rose were out together and had just finished up at Flourish a Blotts where his now fiancee had bought four new books. It had taken some time but she and her brother’s reclusive tendencies had finally stopped all together. As well as their godfather’s— and Adrian could admit his— hovering had finally ceased to a more reasonable level. Oh the two would go visit here and there long before now— Rose didn’t really have much of a choice with their engagement expectations— but their public outings had dropped off almost entirely after Grindelwald’s attack and for the last two months they had been slowly dipping their toes back into the public eye, Rose more willing too after the more prone to staring children went back at Hogwarts.

Adrian was happy to be able to enjoy an evening with Rose that wasn't an expected event at some Pureblood’s party and he knew she was as well. Work had picked up for him back in September and Rose had been getting an influx of researching ideas that had her at the Department of Mysteries more often than not. Both of these things meant they hadn’t been able to have time to do things together outside of the required parties— which was just not an ideal situation for either one of them.

He was grateful that the majority of his current projects would be wrapping up within the week which would free up his time more and he hoped the upcoming holiday season the following month would have Rose cutting back her hours as an Unspeakable.

“There’s no such thing as too many books,” Rose retorted loftily to his earlier comment and he resisted the urge to smirk.

The two of them were stepping back out onto the street of Diagon Alley and it wasn’t a particularly busy day. They were now inching their way into mid-November and while that would usually see an increase in crowds leading up to the holidays, the recent moves of the two Dark Lords had people opting to stay home. Still the lack of busyness didn’t mean there was no one there and as they turned to head up the alley they ran into none other than Draco Malfoy and a man Adrian didn’t recognise.

“Rose!” It was the latter of the two who spoke to them, or more accurately to Rose. Malfoy had a distinctly sour look on his face at the detour in whatever he was doing— the blond never completely able to let go of his school grudges despite his mother expecting him to be civil— but Rose shockingly didn’t protest too much. The man who greeted her nodded towards the books curled in her arms and said. “I see you’ve done some shopping.”

“I’m never one to deny myself new books.”

The man laughed charmingly and Adrian silently noted his general appearance. He wasn’t an overtly tall man but not short by any means, about the same height as Malfoy actually. His skin was a warm tone that matched his dark messy hair well and his eyes were a hazel colour, both bright as he kept his attention on Rose. “As should be expected. Have you taken the opportunity to visit the Hidden Library of Alexandria?”

“I have and I’ve been itching to go back,” Rose replied at once, eye lighting up at the mere mention of the infamous library. “My family didn’t spend nearly enough time there when we went.”

“I felt the same way the first time I went. I spent a good month living in a hotel nearby just so I could fully experience it.”

Rose had an openly intrigued look at that. “Maybe I’ll do that sometime in the future,” she mused softly.

The guy grinned at the words, a broad and infectious thing, and finally glanced over at Adrian as he held out his hand. “I’m Milo— Landry. I work with Rose.”

So he was an Unspeakable. Adrian couldn't smother the surge of irritation that overtook him at the reveal. He and Rose must speak somewhat often at work if she was willing to engage in casual conversation with him. Despite not having any kind of secrecy vows or contracts involved with her job, Rose did not talk often about the ‘Unspeakables’ side of things— that being the people she worked with. She talked plenty about her research and could spend hours going over her various ideas and projects though and Adrian had long since figured it was because she just didn’t talk to any of her coworkers but apparently that wasn’t the case.

“Adrian Pucey,” he offered in return as he grasped the guy's hand in a swift but tight shake and released it. “Rose’s fiance,” he added before he could stop himself.

Malfoy thankfully, for once, took that opportunity to speak up in a stiff voice. “We will be late if we don’t get going now.”

Landry accepted the not-so-subtle hint with ease and he glanced at Adrian. “It was nice meeting you,” he offered before he looked at Rose with an irritatingly warmer expression. “I’ll see you at work sometime.”

With only a nod in reply, Rose and Adrian split off from the pair and began moving up the street to where they were headed before the interruption. 

It took a lot of effort for Adrian to swallow back the questions in his throat as an unfamiliar feeling coiled in his chest. He spent a good chunk of time before their engagement wondering if Rose felt what he was feeling during their courtship and had thoroughly prepared himself for a negative response. He would have begrudgingly married someone else— he is certain he would never care for any other girl quite like he cared about Rose— and he had taken an admittedly small comfort in the fact that Rose disliked so many people in general that the odds of her dating, and one day marrying, someone else were beyond slim. In all the years he had known her she never showed the faintest interest in anyone.

Which meant he was free from any bitter and, in his opinion, pathetic feelings of jealousy— until now.

The two of them had been heading to O’Malley’s Opal for dinner and when they arrived they were quickly seated and had their orders taken. Given Adrian’s attempts to hold back any comments he wouldn’t be able to take back and Rose’s customary preference for silence there weren’t many words exchanged in the time they did all this.

“I recently found out it’s customary to give each other gifts in situations like ours,” Rose said suddenly.

Adrian was more than eager to grapple at the change in subject. “Yes, typically an engaged couple offers something as a sort of celebration outside of public occasions.” He watched as her nose wrinkled; Adrian had long since figured that would be her reaction which was why he never bothered to bring it up. It was hardly a dealbreaker for him. 

“What would you even want?”

The question was valid considering Adrian himself was about as difficult to buy for as Rose was but still he assured her. “I would like anything you got me.” She was visibly displeased at the answer to Adrian’s amusement but instead of acknowledging it he asked. “What would you like?”

Their food arrived as Rose considered the question over and after their waiter had left once more she said. “Books preferably.”

“Colour me surprised.”

Rose’s next look was far more sardonic but she smiled as she tucked into her food. “How about this for your gift,” she said as she cut up a piece of her chicken. “You give me a list of five people of your choosing and I will find provable blackmail on three of them.”

“Absolutely,” Adrian said at once which earned him a beautifully fond smile. It was a no-brainer to accept that proposal; he knew Rose well enough by now to know that she likely amassed a great deal of secrets on plenty of people in the magical world over the years. He also knew that just ‘knowing’ wouldn’t be enough for her, she would have gone out of her way to see if she could prove each of the secrets she learnt as well— especially for anyone who irritated her in any way.

“Alright then,” she agreed with a more satisfied expression. 

They ate in silence for a few minutes before the silence was broken once more by Rose. “I’d like to build us a manor to live in one day rather than purchase one.” He was mildly surprised at the topic and couldn’t help but raise a curious brow. “I have the money and I like the idea of having a say in exactly how our home would be.”

“I have no issue with that,” Adrian promised smoothly .”Though I will be helping pay for things even if you do have the money.”

He most certainly didn't have anywhere near what Rose had, even if he included his family’s main money, but that didn't mean he wouldn’t do his part for their future. Rose no doubt had to be one of the wealthiest people in Britain, had to be in order to be able to fund that charity of her and her brother’s, and he knew the pair hardly made a dent in the Potter bank accounts with the way their godfather spoiled them. Then Rose would inherit the Black family vaults alongside her half of the Potter fortune. So yes, he knew she had the money to probably build herself a whole neighbourhood, but he wanted to do his part as well.

Rose didn’t offer any protest to his counter as she said. “I'd like to have a library, a big one—”

“As expected,” Adrian cut in with a smirk.

Rolling her eyes, Rose went on undeterred. “I’d like a big library that guests would be welcome in and then a personal library. Plus I want a big kitchen with a dining area in it like at Grimmauld Place but a formal dining room elsewhere.”

“I could practically hear my father’s scathing comments if he had to eat in view of a kitchen,” Adrian said by way of agreement to a second dining area.

“Of course,” Rose agreed with a huff before continuing on. “I would also like a potions room, maybe a room to practice magic in and we would need a lot of bedrooms.” She began ticking off her fingers as she spoke. “A permanent room for Harry and one for Sirius as well, should either of them want to stay with us, then an assortment of guest bedrooms just in case.”

Adrian couldn't help but smile at how much thought out Rose had given all of this. The amount of effort she was clearly putting into their future together was like a soothing balm on his earlier stirrings of jealousy.

“It can be done however you like,” Adrian assured her smoothly. “Though I would like an office.”

“Absolutely,” Rose agreed at once. “I’d also want to set up some way to make traveling through the manor easier for Jörmy.”

That was also to be expected, Rose often laminated just how much her beloved snake would complain about the stairs at Grimmauld Place and Adrian imagined he’d be far happier with a horizontally large house rather than vertically. They were nearing the end of their meals, Adrian’s cleared a lot sooner than Rose’s given she was leading most of the conversation for a change. “When exactly do you want to start this?” he asked curiously.

“I imagine actually building it wouldn’t be for a while but I’d like to be able to plan it all out sometime next year.”

Adrian hummed quietly in consideration at that. “I know plenty of architects and contractors. I’ll give you a list of them and ask around about other people’s experiences with them.”

Rose's face grew openly pleased at that. “That would be great.”

Huffing a quiet chuckle, Adrian gestured towards her now empty plate. “Should we get going?”

“Do you want to spend some time at your place before we retire for the evening?”

“I thought you had plans to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight?”

Rose waved a dismissive hand as she stood. “That can wait for another night.”

As he followed her lead to a stand Adrian studied her for a beat, a pleased feeling growing within both at her earlier question and her response to his own. “Alright,” he agreed at once. “Let’s go to my place. You can start on the books you bought.”

“I think you need to go a little to the left,” Harry suggested through one squinted eye. 

He and Ron were hanging up some decorations on the ceiling of Ron and Hermione’s place and had been idly talking about not much of anything as they worked. Hermione was still at the Ministry of Magic as lately she was staying late to help with some upcoming projects for the Ministry. Harry thought it was a bit early for the decorations they were putting up since it was still November but Ron had claimed December was only five days away which meant this was hardly early. 

“How was Percy’s wedding?” He asked next as Ron started to untangle the next bit of colourful garland and he moved his step ladder to a different spot. Percy’s wedding had been about a week ago, the newlyweds now on their honeymoon and set to return the second week of December, and Harry hadn’t seen much of the Weasleys since then.

Ron grinned as he handed Harry one end and then moved his own step ladder across from him. “It was great,” he said enthusiastically. “It was in their family greenhouse and the place was huge. Like bigger than the Burrow’s entire yard.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the image and he adjusted his placement as he asked. “Is your mum looking forward to your family’s first holiday with a grandbaby?”

Now Ron snorted as he pinned his end up. “Yeah. She’s doing a big feast that all the Weasleys are expected to attend, all the details have already been finalized. We’ll all meet at about three at the Burrow,” he added on with a pointed tone.

“We’ll be there,” Harry promised with a smile.

He didn't think there would ever come a time where he wasn’t filled with so much gratitude and happiness at the lengths the Weasley family went to to keep Harry and his sister involved with their lives. Even after Sirius came along, and they were no longer two orphans with no other options, they still went out of their way to include them— Sirius as well.

Harry often thought back to what he and Rose’s lives might have been like if they hadn't met or become close with the Weasleys. He was certain it would be far worse and filled with a lot less love. Every time he thought that— and every time he was put in a situation where he became overtly aware of the Wealseys’ occasional struggles when it came to money— he wished he could give the family every bit of gold he had. As far as he was concerned none of it would even come remotely close to what the family did for them but he would try his best. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he knew the Weasleys wouldn’t accept it. So he would do his best to stand by them and make them feel as appreciated by them as he could.

He and Ron continued to bounce between conversations as they finished up the decorations; work, family, friends and occasional bits of gossip. When they finally finished they both plopped down on the couches with a sigh and Ron pushed a drink across the coffee table towards Harry.

“So are you still digging into the whole Hallows thing?” Ron asked as he started on his own drink. 

Harry hummed quietly. “I hit a snag. I’m pretty sure Voldemort has the Stone— or his family had it at least but maybe they hid it somewhere...”

The apartment looked quite nice from the view on the couch. Simple but pretty streamers criss crossing along the ceilings, the occasional decorative star hanging from certain points. They had put lights in a twisted manor flush against the ceiling itself which had the top half of their living room and kitchen alit with a warm glow. The walls had some wreaths hanging here and there and the fireplace had two matching blue stockings hanging on either end.

“Why not ask Ro’ to ask him?”

Harry glanced back at Ron at his question. “I did. She said she didn't want to at first but she eventually did and she’s seen both things that he has from that side of his family and neither one has the Stone.”

Ron frowned as he studied his own drink, taking a sip before he said. “That’s a bummer— though I’m pretty sure it would be difficult to keep track of a small stone.”

“I know ,” Harry groaned as he threw his head back. A sudden thought sprang to mind and he sat upright again. “I have a new thing to wonder about though!”

Now it was Ron’s turn to groan but he was far more playful. “What is it?”

“When me and Ro’ went to that German party we met a guy who told us a tale of the family who once lived there,” Harry started eagerly, leaning forward as he spoke. “I ran into him again at a party with Ginny last month and he told me the whole story. Apparently a king who lived there had called upon some ‘hooded-figure’ to make a deal with him in order to become king. He was like fourth in line so he wanted to get rid of his father and brothers but then the being started killing all of his family and he went mad.” Harry pointed over at Ron as he said the main connection that had been on his mind. “When he told me of the ‘hooded-figure’ I thought of the story of the Three Brothers because Death was a hooded-figure in that one too.”

Ron made a face. “That could be a coincidence.”

He had known the man would say that. As different as Ron and Rose could be, the one similarity they had was a near obsession at looking at things from every possible angle. Ron’s was born from years of playing and excelling at chess while Rose’s was just her own paranoia unwilling to let her not do it.

“I know,” Harry conceded as even he could see it was a bit of a stretch. “But I feel like it’s not.”

“Why don't we look into it,” Ron suggested with a shrug. “It can’t be that hard to find stories of people having experiences with—” he raised his hands to make finger quotes “— a mysterious hooded-figure.”

“Really?” Harry asked excitedly. “You’ll help me find out more?”

It’s been a whole since his more fanatic mysteries had been completely indulged in; the Hallows done more out of a skeptical fondness. Real life had taken most of their time these days so he understood that not everyone could spare the time he could since he didn't exactly have a job.

Ron smiled at his enthusiasm. “Of course. I’m not sure how we can go about finding out anything really but we can start with talking to some people we know. Mention it in conversation.”

Nodding his head hurriedly in agreement, Harry quickly thought the idea over. “We can start after the holidays,” he said next, not wanting his latest obsession to take over the holiday season. 

“Alright, mate,” Ron said with a grin. “Sounds like a plan.”

It was now three days into December and the twins were currently in their bedroom sprawled out in their small living room area. Rose was killing some time as she was due to head to Adrian’s soon, having planned to go see him once he was finished with work, and she was lounging back on a couch while Harry was laying on the floor with one of the Snitches Sirius had got him so long ago fluttering around him.

“Me and Ron are gonna look into the hooded-figure from the king story more,” Harry told her distractedly, his eyes more focused on the Snitch.

Rose hummed quietly. “You’ll tell me about it as you learn things?”

“Of course,” Harry said straight away which made her smile. “How has work been going?” He asked her next, his words distorting a bit as his hand darted out to snag the Snitch.

“Great,” Rose said at once, a familiar feeling of satisfaction stirring at the thought of the things she was currently researching. “I have a few projects that really interest me but the only downside is the lack of time I have with Adrian.”

Harry glanced over at her with a frown. “Don’t you go to like five different parties every week?”

She couldn’t help but scoff. “Yeah— parties. Surrounded by so many people and engaging in the most exhausting attempts at small talk. That doesn't really count as us spending time together.” Now she was frowning as her eyes darted across the ceiling. “You know I thought things would change around the holidays but I forgot how many people decide to throw parties during this time; the amount of invitations we’ve already gotten are ridiculous. This whole social side of our engagement is becoming tedious at best.”

She had been more focused on the benefits; that being that no one else could have Adrian and that Rose liked the idea of tying the man to her for life. Now the negatives were clear as day in the way of every ostentatious invite they got from any and every family either of them were remotely connected to. Perhaps it would have been less so if she didn’t have the ‘fame’ she and Harry had but then again given the power the Black family had maybe not. 

It wasn’t that she regretted getting engaged, not at all, but she was growing fed up with certain aspects that she wasn’t allowed to ignore.

“You know the sooner you and Adrian get married the sooner you and him just become another married Pureblood couple,” Harry remarked suddenly and Rose glanced over at him in surprise as her brother went on. “I learnt about it in my training with Sirius. He taught me all about marriage and betrothals and all that. This whole ‘going to events' thing is mainly something for engaged couples, to make connections as a future couple. Once you get married you just go back to attending the parties you feel like.”

Now Rose was sitting up and she stared at her brother incredulously. “You’re just telling me this now?”

Harry shrugged distractedly, his attention yet again focused mainly on the Snitch fluttering around on him.

Rose thought over his words carefully. To be honest she had planned to prolong her engagement for an undetermined amount of time. She was in no rush to get married after all; hadn’t really thought marriage would be on her schedule anytime soon really but circumstances had changed. Once she knew she wanted to keep Adrian around for as long as feasibly possible she had been forced to acknowledge certain truths.

Purebloods were fast paced with relationships. It was something she had always been vaguely aware of but got a front row seat to during Meier’s annoying presence. She saw how quick she was to try and lure Adrian into some kind of relationship or marriage and how Adrian’s father had been impatient for his son to get married too. Which was why Rose had reacted so swiftly— and harshly if you ask certain people— to put a stop to it all before it got too far. 

She wasn’t planning to get married, it was never a goal in her mind, but she wasn’t against the whole thing either. Regardless of a wedding her commitment to Adrian would be strong.

Which consequently meant that with a wedding her commitment to him would be strong.

The hassle of planning a wedding and everything that came with it had had her wanting to postpone said event for the foreseeable future. Only now the hassle of being engaged outweighed that. She was tired of the social expectation and she wanted to go back to spending her time with Adrian without having to worry about the hoops of Pureblood tradition to jump through.

“I’ll see you later,” Rose said absently to Harry as she stood up, a sense of determination thrumming through her, and she got a distracted wave from her brother in reply.

Rose had always liked Adrian’s apartment. It was a simple layout, with two bedrooms— one of which was used as an office—, one bathroom, a large living room and a spacious kitchen with a dining area in the same space. The Floo opened directly into his living room, as most often did, with the kitchen to the right, mostly obscured by a wall but visible through the ornate archway that led into it. His walls had tasteful art and the expensive couches that surrounded his coffee table were a midnight blue and incredibly comfortable. He had a front door that wasn’t often used due to the Floo being more convenient but sometimes was used when the destination was Seventh Heaven, an establishment in the centre of the Kuloss Alley apartment complex. 

She had stayed here on occasion, usually when she and Adrian were both wrapping up late nights but still wanted to spend time together before retiring. Rose had made more of a conscious effort to do so after they got engaged when she knew the inevitably of them living together was approaching. Adrian was always nothing but respectful and she had to remind him that he stayed in her room at Grimmauld Place with her before when he seemed unsure if he should let her have his room to herself.

Despite being together for almost a year and a half— if they counted their starting point as the starting point of their courtship— and engaged for six of those months, Rose and Adrian had never shared so much as a kiss. When they first got engaged, and everyone had been made aware, Adrian had assured her that he wasn’t expecting anything more than their marriage and companionship together and that he understood and respected that she didn’t hold much interest in the way of sex. He had said simply being able to spend his life with her was more than he would have dared to ask for.

It was about as sentimental as Adrian got— truly a rare occasion actually, Rose had tried to think of any other occasions where he got so tenderhearted and couldn't stir up much of anything— and she had been undeniably touched at his words.

Still, Rose was curious and it was a topic she knew she’d go back to soon.

She found Adrian in the kitchen, the man getting a kettle ready; he always made tea for Rose when she would come see him. Rose sat on one of the stools on the opposite side of the kitchen island from him and watched him in silence. He was changed out of the robes he normally worked in and instead had one of the more comfortable, but no less poised looking, outfits he had. 

“I think we should get married soon,” Rose said outright, never one for beating around the bush, especially with Adrian who was quite the same in that respect.

Adrian looked at her with a level of surprise that was understandable. He had known she planned to prolong their engagement and never had anything against that, always happy to go at her pace. Just like with that he accepted her latest request with little hesitation as he asked. “When exactly?”

Tilting her head, Rose considered the question. “I think March would be a good month. It would give us enough time to plan the thing out, surely.”

She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d need to plan exactly but Rose had high hopes that Sirius would take the reins on the majority of things. Knowing how sentimental he could be, she figured he’d be eager to be involved in all aspects, not to mention it was expected for the bride’s family to plan the day while the grooms usually paid for everything. Not that the Puceys would pay for everything as Sirius would see this as something for Rose which meant he’d want to pay for things himself.

“Okay,” Adrian agreed at once as he watched her intently. “Why the sudden change of heart? I thought you were planning on waiting a while first.”

His quick agreement had her holding back a smile and Rose watched him remove the kettle from where it was slowly but surely starting to scream out. “Harry pointed out once we’re married all these extra social situations will be over with,” she admitted.

Adrian smirked in amusement as he poured water into her cup but nodded agreeably nonetheless. “I would like the date to be the twenty-eighth,” he requested next.

Now Rose lifted a brow as she took her tea when it was handed to her. “It’s as good a day as any,” she said quietly as she started adding milk and sugar. “Why that one in particular?”

“It's the exact day I knew for certain that there was no one else I would rather spend my time with; when I chose to spend an evening surrounded by Muggles rather than be apart from you” Adrian revealed quietly.

Rose smiled faintly at the admittance and as she sipped at her tea she sent him a pointed look that said she wanted more details.

“I had been thinking about it for a while, dancing around the idea in my head, but it hadn’t quite sunk in for me until that day– just how much I enjoyed being around you. I tried not to acknowledge it even after that and it wasn’t until about a month later, when I was at a party that Graham’s parents were throwing for him, that I was forced to do just that. Marcus called me out on what I was doing— or not doing that is, in regards to not finding anyone else to court…” he trailed off as his mind drifted back to that particular meeting. “It wasn’t until it was said out loud that I knew I needed to do something but it all went back to that day.” He glanced back at her and smirked. “Of course I had worried about the answer I might get but I knew I had to ask— even if I got a no. I felt a bit better about my odds after the whole Meier thing though.”

Rose laughed at that, never one to shy away from the incident despite still never openly admitting her involvement. She tapped at the rim of her teacup in silence for a beat before she asked. “You’re sure you’re okay with getting married so soon? I know you were expecting a long engagement considering my vocal opinions on the subject.”

Adrian leaned against the counter as he curled his hand around hers, halting her nervous tapping, and his thumb brushed along the ring he got her. “I’d marry you today if you wanted to,” he assured her solemnly. 

The words had her uncharacteristically flushing and a warm feeling of contentment stirred through her as she watched him in turn. “The twenty-eighth will be good,” she said at last.

“I’ll be there,” Adrian promised with a smirk.

She smiled softly at that and there was just one last point she wanted to get to this evening. “There is one other thing I want from you. Since we now have a date set,” she told him. Adrian made an agreeable sound low in his throat as he let go of her hand to gesture for her to go on and again Rose didn't beat around the bush. “I’d like you to kiss me.” Adrian’s eyes widened at the topic, clearly not expecting her to bring it up, and when he didn't say anything for a few seconds Rose added. “I would rather my first kiss not have a crowd.”

“First kiss,” Adrian repeated slowly.

Rose hummed quietly as she sipped at her tea again, feeling a mixture of amused and very entertained at their conversation now. “Well it was never something I’d do lightly— or even cared to do really— but since we're doing this I’d like to do so now rather than in front of a bunch of people.”

“While I knew you weren’t interested in such things, I don’t think I had thought of it in quite that way,” Adrian admitted finally as he stood straighter, a minute furrow in his brow as though scolding his own lack of forethought. “That being that you wouldn’t have done any of those types of things with anyone before.”

She raised a brow at that. “No,” she finally said after a beat. “You would be my first and only. In all aspects.”

To be perfectly honest had Rose been more prone to conceding to social norms perhaps she would have at the very least kissed someone. Convinced herself that it was what everyone did and forced herself into the type of situation where it would happen. She imagined it wouldn’t have taken long after that to come to the realization she had come to years ago— that being that she just wasn’t too interested in such things— but that was another life. This life Rose had a bad habit of forming an opinion or coming to a decision and sticking her guns to it rather fiercely; it took a lot to shake her out of her habits normally.

Maybe she would have been fine with the kissing part? Maybe she would be now? Who could say. It was not something Rose had ever been exposed to and most of her reluctance or reservation came with the sex part of things and she wasn’t naive enough to not know that sex would certainly be a lot more intimate than simply kissing.

As Adrian’s face grew into a rather possessive expression Rose withheld a smile. “Right now?” he eventually asked her with a more cautious look.

“Now is as good a time as any.”

While Adrian began to circle the counter Rose abandoned her tea and she turned on the stool she was still perched on to face Adrian as he came to a stop in front of her. He paused for a second and took that time to remind her. “I understand your reservations on these things— respect them and you greatly.”

Rose huffed quietly. “You’ve said as much,” she reminded him in return with a small smile. “Just as you understand my desires— or lack thereof— I understand yours as well.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, not at the sake of your own comfort.”

Her smile grew soft at his insistence and Rose reached out to pull him nearer to her by his robes; the warm feeling of his body growing more pronounced the closer he got. “I know,” she assured him evenly as she did. “And there are times where I won’t want to do anything like this and there are times where I will likely abhor the idea of being hugged or having people too close to me but there are times where I will be… agreeable to it.” Rose pursed her lips as she thought her own reasoning over and then pushed past any nerves to cup his face in her hands. “First and foremost I want to make you happy too and it would please me to know I would be making you feel good…. Plus I absolutely loathe the idea that I am not the official last girl you have been with,” she couldn’t help but add that last part and she knew he’d at least understand her reasoning with that.

Adrian’s lips quirked up into a dark smirk and he finally moved on his own accord, one hand coming up to tuck under her chin to tilt her face up. He studied her intently then said. “Say the word and we can stop. No matter the time or place. No matter how far we ever end up going.”

Rose’s eyes darted between his own intricate blue ones and then flickered down to his lips as she nodded her head once. 

Without further delay Adrian leaned in and pressed his mouth flush against hers. All at once Rose’s heart somersaulted in her chest while her stomach seemed to fly off all together. She wasn’t sure if it was for the action itself to the fact that she and Adrian were doing something so new together. She slid her hands to the back of his neck and pulled him closer and felt the hand on her chin drop to curl alongside his other around her waist. 

It wasn’t quite what she was expecting but not in a bad way necessarily. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say she didn’t have any expectations barring the comparisons to the things she has read or heard Ginny and Hermione talk about.  She liked the closeness though and the most accurate comparison she could give in the end was the same feeling she got when Adrian first started kissing her on the cheek in greeting. It was appealing in a way that she was sure no one but Adrian himself could induce.

Adrian pulled back and Rose sucked in a quiet breath before she opened her eyes— unaware she had even closed them— and found Adrian watching her with an array of emotions. His eyes were dark and intent, his lips redder and he was endlessly patient as he waited for her reaction.

Rose licked her lips, resisting the urge to smile smugly as he followed the motion with his eyes, and said. “So the twenty-eighth.”

She got a handsome smirk at that, Adrian always so adept at understanding what she was saying without her having to say it, and he hummed quietly. “The twenty-eighth,” he agreed smoothly.

The magical world was a constantly changing thing, with numerous turns being brought along as time went on. The more recent notable turns occurred within the last two decades or so; starting with the night the Dark Lord tried to kill the Potters twins— did kill their parents— and then ‘died’. Then came the turn when he made his return, far more terrible than before. Then another turn that came along was when word spread about the Dark Lord being more sane than ever before, a far cry from the man he was before the end of the First War. After that came a turn in the way of Gellert Grindelwald’s escape and his determined return to his status as a Dark Lord. Then—

Well, the magical world was always changing, that was the point Theo was trying to make.

Not all turns were world changing things and one Theo made in the last few months was joining the Death Eater ranks and getting the Dark Mark. His father had been pushing it since he was seventeen but now that his grandfather was back in the fold when it came to the Dark Lord it now felt more like what Theo should be doing. He hadn’t been pushed on missions straight away— physical missions that was— and was more focused on helping plan out strategic maneuvers. He worked closely with his father, much to the man’s pride, and Yaxley, plus a few lower ranked members of the Dark Lord’s army.

His father had warned him about speaking freely with Yaxley. Apparently the man was a gutless disgrace— proven by his slipping out of Azkaban’s clutches at the end of the First War— and would use whatever he could to drag those around him down first. Theo thought that might have held a lot more weight had he not said the same thing about almost everyone in the inner circle at one point or another.

Regardless, life in the Dark Lord’s ranks wasn’t proving to be as daunting as he had feared; perhaps because he hadn’t been put to use in the field yet. Theo couldn't help but wonder if his grandfather had a role in that, so far everything he had been doing was mostly focused indoors and the odd time he would be expected to attend a gathering with Death Eaters.

Such as tonight, for example.

Theo, historically speaking, was not the most social of people. It was practically ingrained in him since most of his peers avoided him in fear of their family’s being put under closer scrutiny by the Ministry of Magic during their Hogwarts years and he learned to embrace that solitude. Even when he graduated he hadn’t necessarily planned on doing much socialising beyond the expected occasions and that was something he actually had been doing until he got the Mark. His marking was a lone occasion, while typically it was an event held on significant dates in large groups— the next one would be during Yule— he had been on his own with only his grandfather, father and Dark Lord in attendance back in early October. It was an understandably nerve wracking experience and yet another one Theo was sure his grandfather had a role in.

“So what has you wanting to join?”

The party he was at tonight was being thrown by a Death Eater a few years older than Theo himself, a Rowle if he recalled correctly, and was used to scout out more potential joiners. A recruitment party for the more swayable of the wizarding circles. Most who didn’t already have the Mark but were looking to join the ranks were here tonight and they’d need to find people willing to vouch for them with the Dark Lord. Theo was standing with Blaise Zabini sharing idle conversation as he was one of the few people he felt comfortable around, likely due to them being in the Potter twins club together and the other man not typically bowing to the social expectations in Hogwarts barring the hierarchy itself.

“It’s becoming more known just how far the Dark Lord’s power has reached,” Blaise offered by way of explanation to Theo’s question. He had been surprised to find the man here given his family’s rather openly Neutral status but he supposed his reasoning was sound. “It’s the only logical choice that would guarantee a promising future in whatever world the Dark Lord is now creating.” 

Theo nodded silently at that, his eyes darting down to his drink awkwardly and Blaise looked him over consideringly. “How about you?”

He resisted the urge to shrug— a commoner's action according to his father— and only waved his drink around absently. “My family is devoted to the Dark Lord and his cause. It’s only expected that I would do the same.”

Blaise hummed softly in return as his dark eyes scanned the room. His eyes sparked with something new and Theo followed his gaze to find Draco Malfoy approaching with Pansy Parkinson in tow.

While this party was for recruitment purposes, not everyone in the crowds were looking to get the Dark Mark. Some were simply looking to make connections and in the Pureblood world that was something everyone wanted to do. Most of the women here were likely committing names and faces to memory so they could marry into a strong and powerful family further down the line when the Dark Lord finally took over.

Pansy Parkinson was probably one of those people. Theo knew the Carrow twins were for a fact.

“Enjoying yourselves?” Blaise asked when the pair reached them.

Draco scoffed quietly. “This party is rife with cliches,” he said scathingly, his mother’s strict expectations in event ‘do’s and don’ts’ making itself apparent. “But father wanted me to come tonight to scope out who might do the Malfoy name justice with a vouch.”

The Malfoy family was predictably stingy about the vouches they handed out and Theo knew that Blaise himself would be the first they actually gave one for; only one if Draco didn’t find any others appealing. The inner circle in general had high expectations and suspicions about who wanted to join so most searched for vouches in the outer circle.

There were the rare few who didn’t need vouchers, those who had direct connections to the inner circle and were accepted by the Dark Lord without the need. Theo was one of them and had they not already been given the Mark he knew Draco, Crabbe and Goyle would have been as well.

Pansy tossed some hair over her shoulder. “I think it’s a good enough party considering who’s throwing it. Can’t expect too much out of the family, all things considered.” 

The Rowles, while members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, had never managed to lift themselves to the same esteem that families like the Blacks, Lestranges and even Longbottoms had. Those families were well-known and established, powerful to even opposing sides of magical lineage, and there were very few who would go out and pick fights with any of them. Parkinson’s family wasn’t on their level either but they were closer than the Rowle family.

“I heard Nathaniel Pucey will be hosting an event soon” Draco offered offhandedly as he caught a glass of champagne from a tray that was passing by them. “Supposedly it’s more aimed towards the ranks just below the top of the outer circle but above the new recruits. Spare themselves from the highest members who are simply social climbers trying to crawl into the inner circle plus avoid the newer members who don’t know the workings of being Death Eaters quite yet.”

Even in things like armies there were plenty of social rules and circles. One learned to recognise them soon enough; those in it for the chance to hurt others, those in it for power, those who were scared to be a part of this but weren’t given any choice. On and on it went with different types and everyone had the ones they avoided. The parties almost always swayed in who people wanted there but most stuck to those like themselves when it came down to it, only venturing to a wider variety every once in a while to avoid looking judgemental or insulting.

“Are you going to go?” Pansy asked Draco curiously.

Draco shook his head dismissively. “I have business to take care of that day and I don’t know how long it shall take.”

“Did you hear that Pucey and Potter set their wedding date,” Blaise commented next, of course referring to Adrian Pucey, Nathaniel Pucey’s younger brother.

Theo had been surprised to learn that those two had gotten engaged but perhaps he shouldn’t have been considering how closely the man stuck to Potter in their Hogwarts days. To be honest he would have thought if Rose Potter married anyone out of her admittedly small trio of friends in Slytherin that it would have been Flint. Then again, he was quite older than her— having been sixteen during their first year— and Pucey was only two years older, a more appropriate age all things considered. 

From what he heard Flint was looking to match up though, the man already twenty-five which was older than most would be considering he was the lone heir to the Flint line and it was only him and his father left.

At the mention of Potter Theo couldn’t help but notice the same uncomfortable look Pansy always got when the girl came up twisting her face. Clearly her showdown with Potter in their fourth year had left a long-lasting impression. Still, she wouldn’t be Pansy if she didn’t swipe the expression away and chime in with a simple bit of gossip. “It’s no surprise. I heard Lord Pucey has long since been impatient for his son to get married.”

Theo remembered crossing paths with Alexander Pucey the first few times following the announcement of his son and Rose Potter’s engagement. The man had seemed incredibly smug that his heir was marrying into the Black family when he spoke with Theo’s father at another party.

Blaise’s voice dropped low as he asked. “Do you think Potter really did curse Meier?”

Draco huffed. “The girl has no curse on her from what numerous Healers have said.”

“And yet she won’t leave her home,” Blaise countered with a sly grin.

He wouldn’t put it past her. Theo, in his habits of sticking to the shadows, had loads of opportunities to observe Rose Potter over their Hogwarts years and she appeared to have few limits in her life but when someone hit them the girl struck back thrice as hard. The incident with Pansy sprung to mind again and Theo glanced over at her and saw the same twisted look on her face as earlier and he wondered if they should change the subject.

“When is their date?” Theo asked curiously.

“In March,” Draco was the one to reply and at their raised brows he rolled his eyes. “My mother was thrilled at the news, Black came and told her as soon as he was informed.”

Theo wondered if it grated on Draco to now be on somewhat familiar terms with the Potter twins. At the very least he had to be civil given his mother’s firm stance on family and his unwillingness to upset her. But perhaps enough time had passed to appease any lingering grudges the blond might have against either twin.

The four of them continued to exchange conversations and Theo found himself a lot less bothered by it then he would have assumed. Maybe because they were all in the same year so a lot of what they wished to discuss were things he himself was familiar with. Then again maybe he was getting used to social gatherings. He found himself wondering what his school years would have been like had he not been unofficially exiled but pushed the thoughts to the side as he knew it would do him no good to dwell on any of that.

Blaise looked over a Pansy at one point with an interested gleam. “So Pansy, who is your latest conquest in your search for a husband?”

The fact that she wasn’t already married was a bit of a surprise to Theo himself all things considered. Then again he knew she was having a hard time finding a match due to her years of favouring Draco over any and all other options. A lot of men who would have shown interest in the past likely took the dismissal as an insult. 

“The new Dolohov heir has shown interest,” she told them all primly.

Following Antonin Dolohov’s murder at Grindelwald’s hand his family lordship had been passed to his uncle. The man’s son— a now thirty year old who would soon take over the lordship himself when his sixty-two year old father had had his full— was the current heir to the family. He wasn’t the best looking man around but he was known to take any kind of insults against his mother personally which at the very least suggested a certain level of respect for women, or at least he didn’t look down on them entirely.

“Do you think it’s promising?” Draco asked Pansy evenly as he sipped his drink.

“I believe so,” Pansy replied slowly. “At the very least he won’t become the Parkinson Lord directly and we can pass it on to a second born.”

That was something that had her father being extra picky about who Pansy picked. The man— due to being downright narcissistic and arrogant— wouldn’t allow just anyone to marry his daughter. Or, more importantly, wouldn't just hand his lordship over to anyone. With Dolohov already set to inherit a main title the Parkinson line would lay dormant until Pansy had a second child; should their courtship reach marriage.

Blaise glanced over at Theo then. “Are you looking?”

Pursing his lips, Theo said. “No. I just joined the ranks so I’ve been more focused on my duties than courtships, which my father and grandfather understand.”

With a nod of understanding, Blaise then glanced over at Draco with a grin. “What about you? Any heirs to be born soon?”

Draco narrowed his eyes at the man’s obvious humour and said. “No. Our betrothal stated that we have to be married for a minimum of five years before trying for an heir.”

That particular condition was a failsafe the more loving of fathers included in their daughters betrothals; rare as it was to be used. Five years to ensure the women were happy with their home and married life and if not they could divorce due to failings in the marriage contract. It was no surprise Hadrian Greengrass would include it in his daughter’s.

“Well, here’s to good things for all of our futures,” Blaise said then as he raised his glass. The rest of them didn’t hesitate to follow his motion and silently clinked their drinks against his own before they each dispersed to make more conversations with the rest of the party.

It didn’t do well to linger in the same spots and crowds at these types of events, as much as Theo would have liked to.

“Things need to change. You-Know-Who is only getting stronger and the Auror’s attention is now split with all the Azkaban escapees– something I’m certain He planned to happen when he released them. We need more help.”

Dedalus Diggle was a proud member of the Order of the Phoenix and he was now their best recruiter. At thirty-five he had convinced plenty of people to aid them in their endeavours and missions and even got some to sign up and swear their loyalty to their cause in ridding the world of the Dark Lords. Granted it was a bit of an easier task now that there were two known and powerful Dark Lords running about in comparison when it was just the one in the shadows that no one wanted to believe had returned.

“You know, your parents were members of an illicit group of fighters back during the First War,” Diggle told Neville Longbottom quietly. The two of them were in a mostly empty shop in Diagon Alley and Diggle wasn’t too proud to admit that he followed the young man here.

Longbottom frowned briefly and he solemnly said. “I’m aware.” 

Of course the list of people who were members of Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix had been passed around swiftly following Peter Pettigrew’s trial. There was some outrage back when it was first heard and the Dark Lord was largely believed to be dead but now that He was back those few people who still lived were looked at far more gratefully. They were still, of course, considered a terrorist group and legally speaking they would be arrested should they be caught. Plus they weren’t allowed access to numerous things due to regulations and such but there were a few who were grateful for their aid and would look the other way on the things some did.

“Would you be able to do it?” Diggle asked quietly as his eyes flickered to where the shopkeeper was sorting things across the store, unconcerned with the two of them. “Fight for what was right no matter the cost?”

Longbottom sighed softly. “We do need change... We can’t keep going on like this where everyone is scared to leave their homes…” He looked back at Diggle with a considering look. “Surely you have plenty of people helping.”

Rubbing a hand along his jaw, Diggle said. “There are some but don’t be surprised how strong a factor fear is. Some think tying their name to us would be a death sentence.” He shot him a pointed look next as he murmured. “Finding people willing and capable at fighting is difficult at times. You-Know-Who has been known to sweep up those kinds of people as soon as he can.”

Scowling at the mention of the Dark Lord, Longbottom told him. “There was a group of us in school,” he started slowly and Diggle perked up at the words. “Harry and Rose ran a defence club and I know there were quite a few of those who joined who looked at it as some preparation for war. This was before it was really known that You-Know-Who had come back, back during our fifth year.”

Now that sounded promising. Most certainly the fact that it was the Twins-Who-Lived running the thing would have people thinking they were preparing for war. If it was during their fifth year then it would have immediately followed You-Know-Who’s rebirth.

Diggle didn’t waste time in asking for more details and while he got a few names and brief review on what they did in the club it still didn’t keep him from leaving when his pocket watch began yelling hurry up! at him from his pocket. He solemnly told Longbottom that they would speak again— he hadn’t agreed to help them or join up after all— and waited for the man to nod in agreement before he left.

He had a meeting to get to.

The Order of the Phoenix had a varying number of meeting places— routine was a death sentence when it came to war according to Moody— but the one they were set to meet at today was in a small cottage that belonged to Sturgis Podmore. It was a place he didn’t use often, truthfully it was rundown and had definitely seen better days, but its reclusiveness was a big positive and not many people knew of its existence. 

Today wasn’t a large official gathering— those were often few and far between as the war went on and Moody didn’t want the enemy identifying who was in their ranks— but it was one with only a few of the higher ups. The more veteran and trusted members.

When Diggle arrived at the cottage he didn’t hesitate to go to the door, carefully knocking the way they all knew to. A voice sounded on the other end.

“Did you see the new broom they’re selling?”

“I’ve seen better ones in my gran’s shed,” Diggle replied at once.

Yet another security measure set up by Moody and given how the First War went it was definitely necessary. The door opened and Sturgis Podmore stood on the other side, quick to wave him in. 

Podmore was about ten years older than Diggle himself and had also fought in the First War. He had received his fair share of injuries back then that healed up easily enough but perhaps the more lingering damage he received was from his stay in Azkaban for six months a few years back. Podmore had been placed under the Imperius Curse and sent into the Department of Mysteries back when You-Know-Who was after the Prophecy. He recovered well but it was an experience most never forgot.

When Diggle moved into the living room— that had no couches but one table with eight chairs around it— he found Moody, Elphias Doge, Kingsley Shackebolt and Hestia Jones waiting for him. The latter two had only just joined the Order this war but were some of Moody’s most trusted; Podmore was the other. Moody’s trust was a hard won thing and Diggle knew he didn’t have it entirely, in fact the whole reason he was here tonight was likely because they wanted to discuss recruitment. While Doge was likely here due to how well he knew Albus Dumbledore, offering his opinion on what the man had been up to and helping piece together his choices. Not to say they were distrusted— there were a small handful of others alongside them who were let in on the more secret aspects; McGonagall a more notable one— but there were certain levels to this thing. After Peter Pettigrew’s treacherous actions, before they all knew for certain it was him, they had learnt spreading all the information to the Order at large was just asking for a leak.

The one bit of information that was spread to the entire Order was the fact that Thomas Carrington— the Ministry of Magic’s newest up-and-comer— was in fact You-Know-Who in disguise. 

Back in September Jones had managed to find a series of hidden memories Dumbledore had and it was this group's job to figure out what they all meant and why Dumbledore kept them on hand. It took them some time to get their hands on a Pensieve after finding them but they had managed it earlier this month. They had already started viewing the memories and that was how they figured out Carrington’s disguise.

A memory they watched involved the Gaunt family— the last of the Slytherin line and as such You-Know-Who’s last living relatives— and they spotted a ring the uncle seemed to hold in high regard. It was a ring that Podmore recognised the following few days because he was assigned to keep an eye on Carrington as they knew Dumbledore had been suspicious of him in his final days. It was a ring the man himself wore and considering it belonged to the Gaunt family there was no reason for him to wear it and the fact that the ring was lost shortly after an encounter with Tom Riddle jr. was all the proof they needed.

Unfortunately they had yet to connect a lot of the other memories, some seeming downright random at times. There was talk of Helga Hufflepuff’s Cup but that had been lost long ago and now they assumed You-Know-Who stole it out of greed. Same went for a gold locket that was once Salazar Slytherin’s. There were some on You-Know-Who’s childhood but that wouldn’t do them good now considering all those people were long dead now; if not due to natural causes then likely by the hand of You-Know-Who himself.

“Any thoughts?” Moody asked them gruffly as they all sat down. After their last gathering Moody had told them to take a week and to theorise on their own. No sharing ideas. He thought that would be the best way to get an array of ideas, one of which would surely help.

Shacklebolt sat straight as he lightly opened a notebook he had. “I think perhaps Dumbledore was trying to teach Harry the whole story, which is why his childhood was included. I admit I don’t understand the significance of him stealing Hogwarts’ founder's items.”

“Neither do I,” Jones agreed with a frown. “His childhood paints him as a kleptomaniac so it’s not entirely noteworthy that he’d move on to rarer and more worthwhile items as he got older.”

Despite the lack of understanding, ironically enough the choice to trace Dumbledore’s last steps had proven to be more informative than Dumbledore himself had been when he was alive.