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Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Harry cradled his arm against his chest, biting back tears, as he sat on the thin mattress in the cupboard under the stairs, surrounded by darkness. The house was quiet, his family asleep, but Harry’s arm hurt so badly that Harry couldn’t even lie down properly.

Uncle Vernon had yanked so hard on Harry’s arm when he’d caught Harry sneaking food from the rubbish bin after dinner that Harry had felt something pop on the inside. The Dursleys had enjoyed a lovely dinner of roast potatoes, pork chops and green beans, but Harry had been denied food for he second day in a row because Dudley had knocked over a vase of flowers and blamed it on Harry that afternoon.

And since Dudley refused to eat anything green and thus his green beans had ended up in the bin, Harry had tried to grab a quick handful for himself, just to have something in his aching stomach. But Uncle Vernon had gotten to him before Harry could eat even one little bean and now his arm hurt like it had never hurt before and Harry couldn’t sleep.

How Harry wanted to leave the Dursleys. They were his family, the only family he had, but Harry was already four years old and he knew that how his family treated him wasn’t right. Look at how they treated Dudley, and then compare that to Harry’s lot in life.

No, Harry was still very young, but he wasn’t stupid.

So he’d hatched a plan. A brilliant plan, if he did say so himself, to get him away from the Dursleys once and for all.

You see, Dudley’s birthday had been a month ago and one of the many presents his cousin had received had been a cassette player with a whole pile of cassette tapes, all filled with wonderful stories told by some very friendly sounding adults. Dudley had managed to break the cassette player within a week, but during that week he’d played all the stories loud enough that even Harry in his cupboard could hear them.

And one of those stories held the secret to Harry’s escape, he was sure of it.

The story of a boy named Aladdin who found a dusty old lamp which turned out to house a genie who granted him three wishes.

Harry wasn’t sure what a genie even was, but that hardly mattered when it could give you whatever you wanted.

And Harry really, really wanted to leave the Dursleys. He wasn’t actually sure where he wanted to go instead but he figured that anywhere would be better than a house where he wasn’t fed, where his aunt and uncle regularly hurt him and where he had to spend most of his time in a tiny, dark closet under the staircase.

And so ever since hearing the wonderfully inspiring story of Aladdin and the genie, Harry had taken to collecting any piece of rubbish he could find and that his family wouldn’t miss, just so he could rub it in the privacy of his cupboard to see if it housed a genie.

So far Harry had tried various rocks from the garden, an empty snail shell, some twigs, a small coin he found on the bathroom floor, an empty chewing gum wrapper, a rusty thimble and a shiny piece of glass. None of those had worked, much to Harry’s disappointment, but today Harry had found something he thought might very well work.

An old key he found on the floor of the shed, half hidden behind the lawnmower. Uncle Vernon had made Harry put away some of his tools he’d used on the car and Harry had snatched the key up and quickly tucked it in his pocket before Uncle Vernon had noticed anything. He’d barely had time to examine it, but it looked old and worn, just like Aladdin’s lamp had.

Grimacing through the pain of moving his arm, Harry wormed the key out of his pocket. He’d been in so much agony he hadn’t been able to change into his pyjamas yet and no one had even noticed.

Holding the key between his small fingers, Harry started rubbing it in a steady rhythm, meanwhile muttering, “Genie, I wish for you to take me away from here,” over and over again, concentrating on those words with all his heart.

A floating ball of light appeared in front of Harry and Harry inhaled a surprised breath.

It had worked!

The light seemed to shine with all the colours of the rainbow, switching from one colour to the other very quickly and Harry watched in awe at the bright genie before him.

It had to be a genie, because what else could it be?

The pulsing light hovered right in front of Harry, who swallowed deeply and said in his most polite voice, “Genie, please take me away from here.”

The light pulsed but nothing happened and Harry bit his lip while pondering what to do. Maybe he should touch it? Rub the light like he had the key? It couldn’t hurt to try.

Harry reached out a finger and poked at the little ball of light and the next second Harry was gone from his cupboard, never to return there. The force with which he disappeared into the light was such that a small explosion rocked the house right at its centre, severing a gas line and causing a fire that burned so hot that it engulfed the house in minutes, starting with the stairs.

The Dursleys never stood a chance and died huddled together in the upstairs hallway. And no one knew what happened to the scrawny child that had lived with them.

++++++++++++

Albus sighed deeply as he looked over the unopened letters addressed to Harry Potter. It had been their last chance to find the boy, using the complex magic of the Hogwarts letters. The charms used to send out the letters had been first cast in the time of the founders and since then they’d been fed, as all of Hogwarts had, by the magic of the hundreds of thousands of students and staff which had called the castle home over the many centuries since the founding of the school.

But alas, even the astonishing magic that Hogwarts was capable of wasn’t enough to locate this one missing child, and all the owls Albus had sent out had come back within a week, every single letter unopened. Albus sighed again, chest filling with deep regret over some of the choices he’d made when it came to Harry Potter.

Albus had known, of course, that Harry probably wouldn’t have the happiest of lives with Petunia Dursley, given how she felt about magic after learning she herself would never be a witch. Petunia was the kind of petty person who would take out her own regrets in life on a child, Albus was well aware of that. But he figured that the protection the blood wards offered were more important than the boy’s happiness. And the prophecy child had to stay alive until such a time he could vanquish the Dark Lord, just like the prophecy had foretold. Besides, it would probably do the boy some good to grow up humbled instead of spoiled rotten like James had been.

Furthermore, Albus had realized early on that he needed Harry to respect authority and to want to save the wizarding world, and the best way to do that was to make sure his life at the Dursleys was one he would gladly leave behind, even if his new life in this exciting magical world proved full of dangers.

But Albus hadn’t counted on the Dursleys’ house burning down and the Dursleys themselves perishing in the process. The only reason Albus was convinced that Harry was still alive was because one of his trinkets told him so. If Harry had died, the trinket would have stopped rotating and turned black. But it hadn’t. It had slowed down significantly, though, and even if Albus was unsure what that meant exactly, he was sure that Harry was at the very least still alive somewhere. He hadn’t mentioned this to others, since it was blood magic that powered the trinket and therefore dark, and while Albus frowned upon others using such magic, he himself occasionally reached for it as long as it was for the greater good. He just didn’t want anyone to know that he did so.

What also helped to convince him was the fact that the Aurors, and later the Unspeakables, who had examined the scene of the fire had detected some traces of magic. Intriguingly, they hadn’t been able to identify what kind of magic it was exactly, but it had been there.

Albus’ current theory was that Harry had performed some form of accidental magic that caused the fire and somehow sent his body elsewhere. Of course, Albus didn’t have a clue where that might be, but after reading the reports of the Aurors who had questioned the neighbours, Albus realized Harry very well might have wished himself away.

Some of the neighbours didn’t even know a second child had been living with the Dursleys. And those that did know described a small, unkempt child in clothes far too big for him, looking constantly starved compared to the rest of that family. One neighbour had even caught the boy stealing some mouldy bread from their compost heap once. She’d literally found the boy stuffing a slice in his mouth while he ran away as fast as he could.

Yes, perhaps Albus had underestimated Petunia’s vindictiveness and Vernon’s cruelty and he certainly hadn’t wanted the boy to starve, but Arabella had never made any mention of such things and thus Albus had never bothered to check up on the boy himself. He had plenty to do in his life already, especially right after the end of the war. He had counted on Petunia being stern and perhaps slightly cold towards her nephew, but he hadn’t thought her capable of literally starving a child in her care.

And now Harry was missing and Albus was unsure what to do about Voldemort, who he knew was going to come back one day. Rumours were already everywhere and while Albus didn’t always know which rumours were true and which were mere fabrications from people such as Xenophilius Lovegood, he knew for a fact Voldemort would find a way to regain a body sooner rather than later. Voldemort had always been far too clever for his own good and Albus knew with certainty that Voldemort would have activated more than one contingency plan to prevent his own demise.

“Face it, Headmaster, the boy is dead,” Severus said, sporting an unimpressed sneer as he sat in front of Albus’ desk. Beside him, Minerva sat with her back ramrod straight, staring daggers at Albus with frosty eyes. She’d never quite forgiven him for leaving Harry with the Dursleys, especially not after the fire that killed them all.

“I know you believe that, Severus,” Albus said, trying to placate his most treasured spy. Getting Severus Snape to swear loyalty to him was one of Albus’ most important achievements when it came to Voldemort’s future demise. The problem was, of course, that Severus had sworn that loyalty through a vow to always protect Lily’s son. But with Lily’s son missing, Severus seemed to grow more and more distant from Albus. Part of it was resentment towards Albus for leaving Harry with Petunia in the first place, but Albus also sensed something else that was slowly pulling Severus away, though he didn’t have a clue what that was just yet.

“Of course I believe that,” Severus grumbled, crossing his arms tightly. “I’ve seen the burnt down husk and I’ve read the muggle firefighters’ report on what occurred. The fire burned hot enough to destroy most anything, even a small child.”

Minerva made a sound somewhere between a moan and a snarl. “I told you, Albus, not to leave the boy there. And now James and Lily’s only child is dead because of you.”

Albus held up both hands. “I know I made mistakes, and I deeply regret doing so. But trust me when I say Harry Potter is still alive. I am sure of it. We just have to find him.”

“Then do so!” Minerva all but jumped up and marched out of the office with her head held high. Severus followed her without any comment, robes swishing as he stalked out the door.

Yes, Albus would dearly love to find Harry Potter, but he’d tried anything and honestly didn’t have any more ideas. Perhaps it was time to pay more attention to the other child that might have fit the prophecy if it wasn’t for Voldemort’s choice to attack the Potters.

+++++++++

Hermione craned her neck to see the Goblet of Fire sitting on a pedestal in front of the great hall. Any moment now the names of the champions would be announced and Hermione was genuinely curious who would get chosen for Hogwarts.

Beside her sat her best friends Neville and Ron. They hadn’t always been her friends. When Hermione had first started Hogwarts she’d had no friends at all and most people seemed to avoid her or resent her for her high marks and clever mind. But when Hermione had been trapped by a mountain troll in the bathroom during Halloween in her first year, only Neville had realized she was missing and had come to her rescue. Brave Neville, who turned out to be a true Gryffindor after all, had helped her keep the troll at bay until the teachers arrived to take it out. Neither Hermione or Neville had gotten away unscathed, but spending a few days together in the hospital to heal a concussion, a few broken bones and cuts and scrapes allowed them to bond and form a genuine friendship.

Ron, who’d been the reason Hermione was crying in the bathroom in the first place, had received a few weeks of detention and had at least stopped being so rude to her. But it had still taken until the end of the year for him to really speak to them. Ron had formed a friendship with Hagrid, the groundskeeper, and one day after classes he overheard Hermione and Neville discuss the enormous three-headed dog they’d seen behind a locked door in the forbidden corridor. Ron told them Hagrid had mentioned owning a three-headed dog and from then on Ron had joined their research into what exactly was being hidden at Hogwarts and who was trying to steal it, starting with the three of them having tea and inedible biscuits at Hagrid’s.

By the time they tried stopping what turned out to be Professor Quirrell from stealing the Philosopher’s Stone, Ron had become their friend and the three of them did their very best to keep Quirrell from running off with the stone, but they were only three first year students and Quirrell was a grown up and an experienced wizard, so in the end they didn’t stand a chance and Quirrell got away.

They did get to spend another few days together in the hospital wing, though, so they could bond some more over their shared misery.

Their second year had been filled with quiet terror as something petrified students and left bloody messages on the wall. Hermione herself had been petrified and she got to spend a few months in the hospital wing until the mandrakes were ready to be harvested. When she woke up and Madam Pomfrey told her this, Hermione had asked her in genuine bafflement why they hadn’t simply purchased some mandrakes. And if the cost was an issue, Hermione knew her parents would have been happy to pay for something that would cure their daughter from a two-month coma.

But Madam Pomfrey had brushed Hermione’s questions off while mumbling that this was what Dumbledore thought best, and that was perhaps the first time in Hermione’s life she lost some respect for a few authority figures.

She’d missed months of school, and worse yet they still hadn’t figured out who or what was causing the attacks, but Ron’s younger sister Ginny had gone missing and to this day no one knew what happened to her. All that was left behind was one last bloody message on the wall that said, ‘The mudbloods have been punished and a blood-traitor is gone for good. For now I leave you but I am always watching. Until next time. The Heir of Slytherin.’

All summer long there were rumours Hogwarts wouldn’t reopen since a student had been presumably killed, but Dumbledore pulled every string he knew how to pull if rumour had it, and managed to keep the school open. Hagrid did have to spend some time in Azkaban during the schoolyear but he was eventually freed when another attack happened when he was locked away, proving it couldn’t have been him.

Third year was filled with dementors and escaped convicts and Ron who seemed to not understand that cats chased small, furry critters and took that out on Hermione more often than not. That year ended in a chaotic meeting in the Shrieking Shack of all places, where they learned that Sirius Black was innocent, Scabbers was really a man named Peter Pettigrew who had betrayed the Potter family and Professor Lupin was a werewolf who sometimes forgot to take his potion. By the end of the evening Sirius Black was on the run, Professor Lupin had lost his job, Peter Pettigrew managed to sneak away and Professor Snape saved them all from having their souls sucked out with a Patronus charm that took on the form of a doe and for some reason caused Sirius to snarl even more at Professor Snape than he already had.

During the summer Hermione was invited, along with Neville, to spend some time at the Burrow with the whole Weasley family. Mrs Weasley seemed to be a woman who had once been warm and inviting but who now shifted constantly between foolish hope that her daughter was still alive and would come home any day now, and unimaginable grief over having lost her youngest child to some unknown enemy at Hogwarts. She still made a genuine effort to look after her family and her guests, and Hermione helped her out where ever she could.

The Quidditch World Cup was far more exciting than Hermione had thought it would be, mainly because of an unexpected Death Eater attack in the middle of the night. And when they started their fourth year at Hogwarts and learned that a deadly tournament was going to be held that year, Hermione lost all hope of having a quiet year for a change.

Sometimes Hermione questioned herself why she even attended Hogwarts at all, what with all the near-death experiences she’d had so far and she was only fifteen years old! But she loved Hogwarts, she loved her friends and the classes and she wanted to learn magic and she knew with certainty that she wanted to be a witch and live in the wizarding world and that she could never go back to just being a muggle now that she knew she could be so much more.

And so she sat in anticipation, along with the rest of the students, to see who would be risking their lives that year. Hermione was secretly very happy it wouldn’t be her and her friends, again.

“Viktor Krum!” Dumbledore announced the first participant and Ron clapped and yelled extra loudly for his Quidditch idol while Hermione and Neville exchanged a look that was both fond and exasperated. Neville cared about Quidditch as much as Hermione did, which was to say, not at all.

“Fleur Delacour!”

Again Ron made a bit of a fool of himself with his far too enthusiastic response and this time Hermione felt a flare of genuine annoyance in her chest. She had started noticing Ron over the summer for some reason and while she wasn’t yet sure how she felt about this development she did know she didn’t like it one bit when Ron paid any kind of attention to another girl like he did whenever Fleur Delacour was around.

“Cedric Diggory!”

The whole hall went wild, even the Slytherins, and Hermione clapped along with everyone while hoping with all her heart Cedric would survive the tournament. Not all participants had been so lucky, after all, throughout the years. She’d read some gruesome tales about all the horrible accidents that befell a number of participants in the past.

“I told you it would be Cedric!” Neville yelled over all the noise.

“I was still hoping it would be Angelina,” Ron replied with equal volume, while offering Angelina a huge grin. Angelina rolled her eyes and went back to cheering for Cedric. It wasn’t a secret that Ron had ambitions to one day join the Quidditch team and he had supported Angelina openly and loudly as his preferred Hogwarts champion. This time, though, Hermione merely laughed at his antics, not at all jealous because she knew Ron was in it for the Quidditch this time and nothing else.

Dumbledore calmed everyone down with a lot of gesturing and eventually shooting some sparks from his wand. “Yes, now that we know who our champions are…”

Before Dumbledore could say more, the goblet flared up again and another piece of paper was ejected from it. Dumbledore caught it, his face full of surprise.

“Harry Potter.” Dumbledore seemed shocked while reading that name out loud. Immediately the whole hall burst out in loud whispers. “Harry Potter!” Dumbledore called again, this time with more confidence.

Hermione looked around the hall, as did everyone else, as if the boy who had been missing for years was hiding in the shadows of the great hall after all.

Once she started Hogwarts, Hermione had heard all about Harry Potter. She’d read about how he’d stopped the Dark Lord Voldemort when he was a baby, and how he’d gone missing when his family’s home mysteriously burned down. While he was officially presumed dead by the ministry and the majority of people believed this, there were still a lot of rumours and conspiracy theories going around that Harry was alive somewhere.

Some claimed he was being held captive in the Department of Mysteries, where he was being trained to become the best combination of Unspeakable and Auror that had ever lived, forced to serve the ministry whether he wanted to or not. Others were sure he’d been secretly shipped off to the United States where he now attended Ilvermorny under a new name to keep him out of the hands of any Death Eaters that had escaped punishment. And there were the more outlandish ideas that Harry Potter had gone to live with either the centaurs, the merpeople or the goblins. For reasons.

Personally, Hermione thought Harry had died in the fire. All the evidence pointed in that direction and she’d thought it very sad that such a small boy had been burned alive after he’d saved their whole world, but in the end she’d put it out of her mind and focused on her own life, which proved exciting enough already.

But now, at least for a moment, Harry Potter was firmly back in her mind and everyone else’s as voices were raised and people got up from their chairs to take a better look around the great hall. But after a few minutes the ruckus died down when nothing happened.

Dumbledore nodded a few times with a resigned look on his face, as though accepting that Harry Potter really wasn’t going to appear out of thin air. “Well,” Dumbledore said with a small smile. “That would have been –“

But before Dumbledore could continue speaking, lightning rolled across the ceiling, a bright beam that forked all over the hall. People screamed and jumped up but more lightning appeared, now flashing down the walls and at once people lowered themselves off their benches to take cover under the tables.

“What is happening?” Neville asked as he huddled against Hermione, Ron pressed against her other side.

“I don’t know!” Hermione yelled over the crashing noise of more lightning striking left and right. Dark smoke rose from the floor in front of the teacher’s table, engulfing Dumbledore and the Goblet of Fire, which had died out the moment it had spewed out Harry Potter’s name. Dumbledore appeared again as he all but fled towards the teacher’s table and took cover beside it in a crouch. He waved his wand around but seemed at a loss of what to do.

The smoke intensified until nothing behind it could be seen and the dark cloud grew so big that it took up most of the empty space between the student tables and the teacher’s table. More lightning flashed, some going through the dark smoke and the air pressure seemed to change, much like when one travelled in an airplane, Hermione realized when her ears popped.

Some students still screamed or called out in fear, but most people just huddled together, unsure what in Merlin’s name was going on.

Finally, the lightning stopped and the dark smoke started to dissipate, slowly revealing two figures, one human and one decidedly not.

The man that appeared was tall with long, dark hair and a dark beard. It wasn’t as wild as Hagrid’s, but it wasn’t exactly neatly trimmed either. Throughout both his hair and beard there were small braids with metal trinkets and gems hanging from them. He was dressed all in black, with high leather boots, a short leather vest that tied in the front over what appeared to be a linen shirt and trousers. Over all of this he wore a long, sleeveless fur cloak, with shorter black fur on the mantel and long, rough fur covering the wide collar, giving the man the appearance of having a lion’s black mane spread out over his shoulders. On second thought, Hermione realized as she took a good look, it might very well be fur from a lion’s mane.

The man carried a large staff that was imbedded with lots of bits and pieces of metal, gemstone and what looked to be bone. Around his waist he carried a small satchel, and on his shoulder sat a raven, which immediately took flight and soared around the great hall, cawing loudly. It was at least twice the size of any raven Hermione had ever seen in any book.

The most striking thing about the man were not the tattoos that covered every visible piece of skin. Hermione couldn’t see them very clearly from the distance, but they looked like some type of unknown runes. No, the most striking thing were the man’s eyes, which were green and shone like radium as he took his time taking in the great hall around him.

The man made an imposing figure, but the beast at his side did even more so. Hermione had never seen such an animal and knew at once it had to be magical, but it looked utterly alien even to a witch.

It was the size of a Siberian tiger, had four legs and a long tail ending in a few spikes. Its back was covered in thick scales and its belly in dark fur, both which appeared black with a green or blue sheen depending on how it caught the light. Its head was massive, with a wide mouth filled with very sharp, silver teeth. And it had four eyes, two on either side next to each other, which glowed with an eerie ultraviolet light. The most striking thing about the beast was that every time it breathed, cracks would appear alongside its whole body that glowed a fiery orange, as if the whole animal was filled with burning embers that appeared and disappeared with every breath.

The man drew himself up even more while the beast growled beside him. “Who has dared summon me across worlds?” The man bellowed, voice like a rumble of thunder, while people all around the great hall emerged from their hiding places to stare at the newcomers in both awe and fear.

Dumbledore approached the man with cautious steps, wand in hand but pointing down. “Harry Potter?”

The man whipped around while the raven cawed, “Harry, Harry,” as it circled above them. “Yes,” the man said, giving Dumbledore a onceover and obviously not finding him very impressive. “That’s my name. Who are you?”

Before Dumbledore could answer the whole hall descended into utter chaos.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Severus prided himself on being a man fully in control of his own faculties. He was a master of the mind-arts, the Head of Slytherin, a literal spy, and yet even he had trouble keeping his mouth from falling open and staring like a loon at the man who had appeared out of nowhere.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, missing for a decade and now returned as a grown man somehow. Lily’s child he was vowed to protect, Potter’s spawn, unmistakably a magical user of great power. Severus wasn’t familiar with whatever kind of power Harry Potter was wielding, but he could feel it from across the room like a cold shiver running up and down his back.

Albus was working overtime to get those blasted cretins to calm down, and Severus entered the fray, whipping out his wand and releasing a few loud blasts around the hall. “Anyone who is still in this hall in two minutes instead of on their way to their dormitory will serve a month of detention with me!” he yelled over the cacophony of voices from overexcited students. That threat seemed to work on his Slytherins and a good chunk of the Ravenclaws. The Hufflepuffs seemed to all have gone mysteriously deaf to threats of detention, probably due to finally getting some recognition by having one of their own selected as champion of Hogwarts. They were soon to find out that miniscule victory would not make them immune to Severus’ wrath.

And the Gryffindors…well, the less said about the Gryffindors, the better, Severus usually found. Ah, but wait, at least Ms Granger was dragging her two usual compatriots with her out of the hall. Smart girl. How she ever ended up in the house of the intellectually challenged was anyone’s guess.

Minerva finally stepped up after she’d gotten over the shock of the spontaneous reappearance of the Potter boy and got her lions under control enough that they left the hall in as quick of a fashion as could be expected of a bunch of brainless twats.

And the Hufflepuffs were still convinced they now deserved special treatment because one of their own had been foolish enough to enter himself in a tournament that might very well kill him, all for some imaginary honour in the name of his school which he’d be leaving in a year anyway.

Severus loomed over the end of the Hufflepuff table. “To your dormitories now, or you will all be shovelling hippogriff shit for the rest of the schoolyear, mark my words!”

That threat, and a gentle urging from Pomona, finally got the badgers scurrying off to their little beds. Karkaroff and Maxime had ensured their own students had left at once, but they themselves stayed, couple of curious disaster tourists that they were.

Albus was looking at Potter the same way Hagrid was looking at Potter’s beast, with enormous doe eyes full of desire and awe. Severus rolled his eyes because honestly, it was just James Potter’s spawn, no need to roll out the red carpet or hand him the key to the castle.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Potter finally said when the quiet had returned. He stood perfectly still, his beast sitting silently beside him, while they both watched the circus around them with sharp gazes.

“Ah, I do apologize, but as you could see we had to get the students to their beds first before we could have a normal conversation,” Albus replied with his most genial expression, voice full of unwanted reassurances, eyes twinkling like mad.

Severus fought the urge to puke.

“My name is Albus Dumbledore and this is Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.” Albus waited expectantly for a few seconds. “You must have heard of Hogwarts?”

Potter gave no sign of recognition of any of the names. Instead he gazed at Albus with bright green eyes. At least the blasted things had stopped glowing like they had when he’d first arrived. “Why have you brought me here? I usually don’t answer summons, but this one was so strong even I couldn’t stop the pull.”

“Well, that is a question not easily answered. I suggest we gather in my office where we can more comfortably answer your questions and hopefully you’ll answer a few of ours in return.” Albus gestured amicably towards the doors leading to the entrance hall.

“Lead the way.” Potter returned Albus’ gesture with one of his own.

“Perhaps our gamekeeper can tend to your companion,” Albus said as they started moving out of the hall.

“Aye, I’d be happy ter look after him,” Hagrid said, sounding so eager Severus was sure he was about to drop to his knees and beg to be allowed to pet the ugly beast.

“Her,” Potter said with an amused curve of his lips, though most of that stayed hidden beneath his beard. “Her name is Keket and she prefers to remain by my side.” Then he ignored Hagrid’s obvious disappointment and turned his attention back to Albus. “She is housebroken, I assure you, and she won’t cause trouble as long as others don’t start any trouble.”

“Very well then.” Albus looked so relieved to have Potter back he probably would have let him keep the beast with him even if Potter had announced it was going to take the world’s biggest dump right in Albus’ favourite bowl of sherbet lemons.

“Now Veles is not nearly as well behaved, I’m afraid,” Potter said and at hearing his name the oversized raven descended and landed on Potter’s shoulder, while cawing, “Veles is a good bird.”

“Yes, you are,” Potter agreed with a much friendlier tone of voice than he’d used so far. “But you are also a troublemaker.”

The raven didn’t disagree with that, and Severus fought the urge the hex the damned bird right off Potter’s shoulder. Of course James Potter’s spawn would have special animal companions that no one else had. Severus was not in the least bit surprised that Potter already proved as spoiled as his father always had been.

The raven pecked at one of Potter’s braids, pulling on a metal trinket, and Potter raised his hand, gesturing at the bird to stop with a resigned little sigh. Perhaps the bird would shit all over Potter’s fur cloak. One could hope. As they walked through the corridors of Hogwarts, Potter quietly observed his surroundings, face giving nothing away. Severus walked a short distance behind him, observing Potter, taking in how he moved like a seasoned warrior expecting an attack from any direction, and how he subtly turned his head in all directions, looking at as many details as he could, probably to memorize what he could.

But then the ugly beast at Potter’s side decided to climb straight up the wall until it was literally walking on the ceiling upside down as though it was the most normal thing to do in the world for whatever the fuck kind of thing it even was. Severus had never seen the like of it before and he was immensely grateful for that fact.

“Oh,” Hagrid said, sounding a little bit more in love with every word that came out of his mouth. “I didna think it could do tha’. What kind of critter is she, Harry?”

Potter looked at Hagrid over his shoulder for a moment and then gave a careless shrug. “You know, I never asked her.”

And that said exactly nothing, even when Hagrid chuckled at Potter’s non-answer and Potter offered a short grin in return.

Severus was not at all pleased with having the beast of no name literally hanging over his head, seeing as her jaws were big enough to eat said head in one generous bite if she so pleased. But Severus was practised in giving not a hint of his real feelings away and he kept his features schooled while he joined in the procession through Hogwarts.

It wasn’t until they reached the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster’s office that Albus turned around and seemed to realize that every single staff member plus all their guests had followed them in the hopes of hearing Potter’s story.

“Ah,” Albus said in his most regretful voice. “I’m afraid my office isn’t big enough to hold all of us at once.”

Which was a load of crock, of course. The man was a wizard and a master of transfiguration to boot. He could enlarge his office if he wanted to. Severus had seen him do it at the end of the war, when the whole of the Order of the Phoenix, or what was left of it after plenty of casualties and some imprisonments, had gathered there. But Albus obviously wanted to keep his new favourite toy to himself for a while longer before he’d have to share it with the whole world.

“For now I think Minerva, Severus, Alastor and myself will be enough of a crowd for Mr Potter this evening.” All conveniently members of the Order of the Phoenix and loyal to Albus, of course.

Several people protested, some louder than others. Karkaroff and Maxime seemed to think they should be there since Potter had been named a champion of the tournament, but Albus brushed them off by pointing out they weren’t going to discuss the tournament that evening but that it could wait until the next day, when Karkaroff and Maxime could join them for that conversation. For now, Albus suggested, they should inform their champions of the rules of the tournament and Pomona should do the same for Diggory. At least it seemed the poor sods who were supposed to be the centre of attention that evening would at the very least get the instructions they needed to hear and they wouldn’t be left forgotten in a side-chamber off the great hall.

Barty Crouch seemed to believe he should be part of the Potter talk on behalf of the ministry, but Moody pointed out he was a ministry representative as well, and Albus buttered Barty up by asking him sweetly to go to the ministry to prepare things there for the return of Harry Potter, whatever that even meant. Severus hadn’t a clue, other than several horrifying visions of Fudge giving some sort of overblown speech about the return of their saviour or something unbearable like that.

Finally everyone who shouldn’t be there dispersed and their small group rode the stairs to Albus’ office, while the beast still used the ceiling because why not. Obviously it knew something about personal transportation the rest of them didn’t.

“Please, everyone, have a seat.” Albus conjured several comfortable chairs, the show off, while Minerva got a house-elf to serve them tea. Severus wondered if it would be too rude to tell the house-elf to bring him a bottle of whiskey instead, because by Merlin’s soggy underpants, he needed a drink right now.

Moody declined any tea and instead sipped his hipflask, the lucky bastard.

“Now that we’re all here, Harry, my boy, let me tell you how happy I am to have you back with us,” Albus said as he stirred three lumps of sugar in his tea.

“I am not yours, I assure you,” Potter said with real venom in his voice, causing Albus to blink in surprise. “I am a free man, paid for with blood and death, and I will do whatever it takes to keep it that way. Now, tell me why you brought me here because I have been patient enough, I believe.”

“Er…yes…I didn’t mean anything by it, my…I’m sorry, Harry, I will get to the point, I promise.” Albus looked like a damned blushing schoolboy on his first date, and he sounded like it, too. The great headmaster of Hogwarts, reduced to a bumbling fool, all over James Potter’s spawn.

“Our school is hosting a magical tournament and during the selection process for the champions your name came out of the goblet that’s enchanted to select the best possible champion, thus binding you to a magical contract,” Albus explained patiently, thankfully having regained much of his composure.

There was a bit of a ruckus behind them as the beast chased across the wall of paintings of the previous headmasters, batting at their faces like the worlds ugliest, most overgrown housecat. The headmasters complained loudly, probably because the beast kept them from peacefully pretending to be asleep while they eavesdropped on everything that was said.

“Keket, here,” Potter said, patting his thigh. The beast gave a few more headmasters a few bats of an enormous paw before slinking down the wall and coming to a halt at Potter’s feet.

“Why was my name considered as a champion in the first place?” Potter asked once the beast settled down.

“Cause someone entered it,” Moody said, his magical eye focussed on Potter entirely. “Anyone could have done it, because the only security around the goblet was designed to keep underage students from entering themselves.”

“It might even have been a misguided prank,” Minerva said, mouth pinched in a tight line. She was obviously considering who might have played such a tasteless prank but didn’t have to think long. Severus knew exactly what conclusion she reached: that the pranksters in question were identical and had red hair.

“Whatever the reason, it has brought you back home,” Albus concluded with a jovial clap of his hands. Potter seemed to not share that sentiment in the slightest. “Now, my…Harry, could you tell us where you’ve been for the last decade?”

“And how you’re suddenly an adult while you should be fourteen,” Moody added with a suspicious glance up and down the man.

“Where I have been? In Santika. And why I’m an adult? Because time is a funny thing that has a tendency to move differently in different dimensions. You say I’m supposed to be fourteen? Well, I’m easily twice that so that means time moves twice as fast in Santika as it does here,” Potter said with the air of a scholar who’d spent decades studying the subject he’d just described.

“Fascinating,” Albus said, and he genuinely seemed to find whatever Potter was sprouting interesting. Severus wasn’t sure what to think. He’d certainly never considered the question of whether or not other dimensions even existed very important when he was busy keeping himself alive in a war and later guiding hundreds of students through seven years of higher education. “What is Santika exactly?” Albus asked, and they all seemed to lean a little closer to Potter in anticipation of the answer to that question.

“Santika is a world, just a different one than this world.”

Severus had to admit that Potter had a real talent for answering every question yet saying very little at all.

“And how did you end up there?” Albus folded his hands in his lap, probably to stop them from trembling with eagerness at finally being able to solve this decade-old mystery that had kept them all awake at night more often than not.

“Master Karakas, the owner and operator of the Misty Springs school for sorcery summoned me across worlds,” Potter said calm as you please even though he just described what amounted to his own kidnapping. “That is how he gathered new students. He put out magical feelers across the multiverse for unwanted children nobody would miss with strong magical potential and then he’d pull them into Santika.”

Albus blinked a time or two, probably not having expected that answer. “And you never tried to return home?”

Severus couldn’t hold back a snort at the absurdity of that question, and Minerva stared at Albus like she’d never seen the man before.

Potter’s expression could only be described as incredulous. “Why on earth would I want to come back to a dark closet and starvation? Master Karakas was a harsh taskmaster and he firmly believed that one should not spare the rod, but he taught us and trained us and we got three meals a day and had warm beds to sleep in and clothes that fit and there were many natural springs to bathe in at the end of the day. The Dursleys certainly never provided me with any of that.”

Albus was blinking again and Severus wanted to roll his eyes so badly it physically hurt to stop himself from doing so. “Ah, yes, my…Harry, you have my deepest sympathies for how your family treated you. I had no idea Petunia would not accept you into her family when I placed you there.”

Potter’s green eyes started glowing just the tiniest smidge but other than that he didn’t give any reaction to the news that it was Albus who had placed him with his abusers. Even though Severus didn’t want to, he could at least sympathise with Potter over their shared miserable childhoods.

“I’m not sure if you know this, Harry, but your relatives passed away in a fire the night of your disappearance,” Albus said, voice full of sympathy that was about as sincere as Rita Skeeter’s desire to tell the truth.

Potter gave no reaction, just sat still as a statue as he stared at Albus, tea in front of him cold and ignored. On his shoulder, the oversized raven cawed a few times but Severus couldn’t make out any words.

Finally Albus seemed to understand that he wasn’t getting anywhere with Potter if he kept bringing up his dreadful relatives, so he cleared his throat and not so smoothly changed topics. “Now we have to decide what to do with you, Harry, since you will need to participate in the upcoming tournament.”

“And if I don’t participate?” Potter asked with not a single emotion in his voice.

“You risk losing your magic.” Albus nodded sagely, and Severus could tell that it pained the headmaster to be faced with a version of their lost saviour who simply didn’t seem to give a damn about much of anything. “You can stay here at Hogwarts during the duration of the tournament. We can also teach you magic during that time.”

“I already know magic,” Potter replied with a roll of his eyes. “And I have housing. I just need some land to put it on.”

“Housing?” Moody asked, confused.

Potter patted the satchel attached to his belt. “I have my abode stored away in here. I can put it up anywhere.”

“We can look for a place for that on the grounds perhaps,” Albus suggested at once, obviously scared to lose the man as soon as he’d found him. “For tonight, I would be honoured to have you stay in this castle, the same one your parents called home for seven years.”

No reaction. Severus had a suspicion and he decided to put it to the test. “Potter, what do you know of your parents?”

Potter frowned for a moment. “That they were a whore and a lazy drunk who got themselves killed in a car crash.”

“Mr Potter!” Minerva said, aghast, clutching a hand to her chest. “Your parents were no such thing. They were kind,” here Severus coughed in protest as he remembered James Potter’s kindness, “and smart people, who fought against the dark and who gave their life for you.”

Potter gave another one of his careless shrugs. “That’s not what the Dursleys told me. And I never gave them much thought after I moved to Santika.”

“Well, I happen to know two gentlemen who would be more than happy to tell you all about your parents,” Albus said, and Severus wanted to groan at the idea of having Black and Lupin underfoot in the castle in the near future, all so they could tell Potter stories about James Potter’s kindness and sacrifice while forgetting to mention the man was a violent bully in his youth. “I’ll make arrangements for you to meet them. One of them is your godfather and he was most distraught to learn of your disappearance.”

Potter quirked a single eyebrow in response. Well, it was something at least instead of the stoic mask they’d been looking at so far. “What is this word? Godfather. I do not know it.”

Before Albus could answer, Moody raised a hand and gestured roughly towards Potter. “Look, it’s obvious Potter knows nothing about this world and his own life in it, so maybe we should make a more organized effort to educate him instead of trading questions back and forth.”

“That is not a bad idea,” Minerva agreed at once. “We can each take a section and write down whatever information we believe Mr Potter should learn.”

“Do you even know how to read?” Severus asked a very unimpressed looking Potter, but he was damned if he was going to spend a few hours writing things down for a man who might very well turn out illiterate.

Potter ignored Minerva’s outraged harrumph at Severus bluntness and answered with a simple, “Yes. And write too.”

“Excellent!” Albus got up from his chair and everyone else did the same. The beast used this as an excuse to go hunt dead headmasters up and down the wall again. “Minerva can show you to one of our most comfortable guest quarters for the night, Harry. And tomorrow Severus can escort you to Diagon Alley to at least visit Gringotts so you can sort out your inheritance. Oh, and so you can buy your wand, of course.”

Oh joy, now Severus was being volunteered to be Potter’s personal shopper. Just what he’d always wanted. There was not enough alcohol in the world to deal with this disaster of an evening.

“Certainly,” Potter said, sounding about as enthusiastic as he’d done the whole time. “Is there anywhere here where I can get a hot bath? Being pulled forcibly through dimensions wreaks havoc on your joints as it turns out.”

“You’ll find comfortable bathing facilities in your quarters, and a house-elf will serve you a late dinner,” Minerva assured him while gesturing for Potter to follow her.

Severus, Albus and Moody watched Potter and his animal side-kicks follow Minerva out the door and the moment it closed all three of them seemed to release deep, tired breaths.

“Well,” Albus said, running a slow hand down his beard. “Well.”

“You can say that again,” Moody agreed with a grimace. “I can’t get a reading on that boy and I haven’t a clue what kind of magic he is using. Never felt the like before.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Severus said, done for the day with polite manners. “I have an early start tomorrow if I’m to babysit the brat.” Translation: I have a hot date with a full bottle of whiskey in my quarters and no one better dare disturb me for the rest of the night. Without waiting for a reply, Severus rushed out of the room.

oooooo

Harry let Minerva give him a short tour of the guest quarters, which were indeed very comfortable, while a house-elf placed a bowl of soup and some sandwiches under a preservation charm on the dining table. The moment Minerva wished him a good night and closed the door, Harry waved his staff around, casting the strongest privacy spells he knew.

Then he plucked a necklace holding an intricate golden amulet from under his shirt and rubbed his thumb over it, concentrating on the people he wanted to see.

Two shimmering figures appeared in front of him, faces familiar and beloved.

Harry’s stoic face broke out in a wide grin while Veles cawed a soft greeting. “Mum, Dad, you’ll never guess where I am!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Harry, age 4

The genie pulled Harry into a whole new world. Harry landed in a dark room in the middle of an intricate pattern painted on the grey stone floor. A tall man wearing a white dress and lots of gold jewellery spoke in a language Harry didn’t understand. Another man, wearing a shorter dress and only a leather collar with jewels in it around his neck, pulled Harry from the circle. Harry winced at the pain shooting up his arm. A woman, also wearing a collar, said something and then took over and gently guided Harry from the dark room, up a few stone stairs and to a bright hallway with open windows that showed a large courtyard full of children of all ages doing some sort of exercises in organized rows.

The woman gestured Harry into a large room that had several beds and cabinets and instruments Harry didn’t recognize. She ushered Harry up on a bed and started undressing him, and Harry let it happen, utterly overwhelmed that he was no longer stuck in the cupboard under the stairs, and that by the looks of it he had landed himself in some sort of hospital or maybe a school. Whatever it was, Harry hoped with all his heart he could stay there.

The woman pointed at her own chest and said, “Genka.”

Harry got the idea, and repeated the gesture and said, “Harry.”

Genka smiled at him and then took her time washing him with soapy water while she made Harry swallow lots of strange little drinks.

The tall man with all the gold hanging off him entered the room, holding a large staff with all sorts of trinkets hanging from it. The man ran the staff alongside Harry’s hurt arm and at once the pain disappeared. Harry blinked at him in awe and smiled in complete gratitude and didn’t protest at all when the man, who had long, dark hair, a tanned complexion and very white teeth, fastened a leather collar around Harry’s throat.

After Harry was clean and pain-free, he was given a white dress that reached his knees, with a belt to tie around his waist. He was also handed a pair of leather sandals that Genka helped him put on because there were a lot of leather straps that tied all the way up his calves.

And then Harry was clean and wearing new clothes and comfortable shoes for the first time in his life and he beamed at Genka and the man. Genka nodded at him and gestured for him to follow the man, which Harry did.

The man walked with long strides and Harry had to jog to keep up but he didn’t mind, since he was overwhelmed with happiness at being away from the Dursleys at last.

The man steered Harry into a room that looked like an office. The walls and floor were white and made from stone, and all the furniture was constructed of dark wood with a red sheen to it. Harry admired the large desk and the many cabinets, some filled with books and scrolls of paper, others with strange metal or glass trinkets.

The man ran his staff over Harry’s head a few times, muttering some words and he must have liked what he saw because he got a bright smile on his face. He rushed towards one of the cabinets, pulled a small glass ball off the shelf and handed it to Harry.

Unsure of what to do, Harry simply held the ball with both hands and slowly but surely the ball began to glow ever brighter until the light started hurting Harry’s eyes and he squeezed them shut.

The man cried out in sheer joy, quickly yanked the ball out of Harry’s hands and then crouched in front of him, speaking very quickly while he cupped Harry’s cheeks with a pair of warm hands. Harry hadn’t a clue what the man was saying but he seemed happy enough with Harry and that was all that mattered.

From there things happened very quickly. Harry was shown to a room that held six smaller beds and one larger. There were more children there, one little girl with olive skin that only stared at the floor, utterly mute, a pair of girls with dark hair that stuck together and ignored everyone else, a girl with blond hair and freckles that looked at Harry with large, hopeful eyes, and a boy who greeted Harry in perfect English.

“Wait, you can understand me?” Harry asked in astonishment.

“Yeah. I’m Roy, I’m from Singapore,” the boy said with a huge smile.

“I’m Harry, and I’m from England,” Harry said with an equally wide smile, and from that moment on he and Roy were inseparable. The small, blond girl usually tagged along with them and Harry soon learned her name was Rindyll, and just like that, for the first time in his life, Harry had friends.

Harry had been right that the place he found himself in was a school and the first lessons he and his friends got was learning to speak the local language, known as Santireen, which was the dominant language spoken in Santika, the world they now occupied.

At first their teacher simply showed them lots of drawings of items and she would tell them the Santireen word for it. The children would repeat the word many times and then learn how to write it on a piece of slate with a small chunk of chalk.

Yes, Harry was already learning how to write and he couldn’t have been more excited. Soon enough they picked up the language and were able to converse in simple sentences and they were given more diverse subjects to learn, like learning their numbers and studying runes, which were funny little symbols that had all sorts of strange meanings. They also learned about all sorts of plants and what they could do, and all the animals that lived around them.

The school was an amazing place. They were served three hot meals a day in the dining hall. In the morning and afternoon they got warm porridge made from boks, a starchy tuber that grew readily in the vast, lush forests that surrounded the city. In the mornings the porridge was usually mixed with different kinds of dried or fresh fruit and nuts, and in the afternoon it was made with bone broth and things like mushrooms, vegetables and a few times a week some meat.

In the evenings they usually had boks balls, either steamed or fried, served in a sauce that was oftentimes quite spicy but Harry learned to love that soon enough. There were many kinds of vegetables, raw and cooked, served alongside them, and a couple times a week there would be meat, usually a bit spicy as well.

And once a week they had pintas night. A pinta was a deep-fried pancake made from boks, rolled up and filled with a sweet and spicy mixture of meat and vegetables and they were just about everyone’s favourite food. No one was ever late for dinner on pintas night, and Harry soon learned that the worst punishment Master Karakas could hand out was to deny you any pintas but serve you a bowl of watery porridge instead while everyone else got to enjoy them.

Harry learned that lesson quickly the first time he didn’t finish a chore on time because he got distracted playing in the springs.

Harry had never had such delicious food in his life, not to mention such regular meals, and every time he sat down to eat he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the genie who had brought him there.

The school, which was led by Master Karakas, the man whom Harry had met the day of his arrival, was located at the top of a city built in a valley with a river running through it, surrounded by mountains and dense forests. Almost every day of the week huge thunderstorms formed near the end of the day and rain poured down for a few hours. The city was called Misty Springs because all this water caused numerous springs to run all around the valley, including several behind their school.

And every day, after they were done with their work, they were encouraged to bathe in the springs to keep themselves clean. The weather was always warm and humid and therefore it was delightful to play around in running water every afternoon. They even learned to swim properly. A few of the teachers took the time to teach them in some of the shallow pools that formed naturally beneath the springs.

Harry wasn’t allowed off school property yet, but he was curious about the city below them. Valdis assured him that one day soon he’d be allowed to accompany her on errands and Harry looked forward to that. Not that there wasn’t lots of room to play at the school, because there was. The school was made up of several two-story wings, made of white stone with a red, tiled roof. There were several courtyards, surrounded by many trees that blossomed and bore fruit. There were areas they weren’t allowed in, like the basement or the front reception rooms near the entrance, but otherwise once lessons were done they could explore to their hearts content. They were expected to do chores, like wash their own clothes and keep their own shared room clean and occasionally they had to scrub some floors or help in the kitchen with washing dishes. But all of this was reasonable, Harry figured, since they were all staying there for free while getting an education and all the amazing food they could eat.

Every bedroom in their wing housed a handful of younger children and one older student assigned to watch over them. Harry’s assigned older student was Valdis, a girl with skin so dark it looked almost black and curly hair she preferred to keep braided in intricate patterns. Valdis was usually kind and patient with them, but sometimes she would disappear for a day or two and when she returned she was usually a bit cranky and snapped at them more often than not, but they quickly learned to give her space on those days.

Harry was more than happy to have a big sister who answered his questions and who helped him tie his shoes, which he could mostly do on his own but occasionally the strings got knotted to such an extent Harry couldn’t unwind them and Valdis had to come to the rescue.

Once they all spoke Santireen fluently Rindyll, the small, blonde girl whose bed stood next to Harry’s, became a good friend of both Roy and Harry. She was a bit cautious around strangers but seemed to trust Harry and Roy completely and always stuck to their side. They learned that she was from a country called Folsnar, which neither Roy or Harry had ever heard of, but then again, neither had studied earth’s geography extensively before they were pulled into Santika.

Later, Harry would call himself rather dumb for not noticing sooner, but his entire transition to Santika had been so overwhelming that he’d simply not realized it immediately.

Master Karakas’ school was a school for magic. All the things Master Karakas could do with his staff was magic. The older students were also doing magic all the time, to help them with cleaning and cooking and mending clothes and finding books in the library. Younger children weren’t allowed in the library just yet, because books were rare and expensive, but Harry had managed to sneak a few peeks inside through the open door and he couldn’t wait until he was old enough to read all those enticing books.

What also gave the game away, Harry thought, was that not all students attending their school were necessarily human. They were humanoid, certainly, but there was one girl with green skin and small horns growing out of her forehead, and one boy who had colourful feathers growing out of his head where hair would ordinarily be. Another boy was much stronger than he had any right to be for his age and size, and there was one girl with shining silver hair who had such an extreme range of flexibility that she could fold herself into a small little package, legs bent over her own back with her head sticking out from between her feet.

“I can’t wait to do proper magic,” Harry sighed as he, Roy and Rindyll were sitting in one of the smaller pools beneath the springs behind the school.

“What are you going to do with it then?” Rindyll asked, her curly blond hair wet and plastered against her face.

“Everything,” Harry said, with a wide gesture of his hand as though indicating the whole world around himself. “How about you?”

Rindyll shrugged while staring down at the water. “I dunno. Make sure no one hurts me again.”

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Roy agreed. They hadn’t ever spoken about it in detail but Harry had picked up, through conversations like the one they were having, that both Roy and Rindyll had lived with people much like the Dursleys. That was probably why they’d found their way to Master Karakas’ school, which Harry was sure was a special place just for children who’d been hurt by adults in the past.

oooooo

Harry, age 5

“Come, child,” Master Karakas said, gesturing Harry into his office. He firmly closed the door behind them and Harry wondered if he was in trouble. Usually Master Karakas let you know at once, loudly, if you’d done something wrong. Harry himself had been punished a few times over the past year. Sometimes he got distracted and didn’t finish his chores, and one time he’d dropped a container filled with crystals, shattering a couple, when he was assigned to help clean up one of the classrooms.

Master Karakas had used a switch on Harry’s hands that time, and while it had hurt quite badly, Harry still preferred having his hands hit than miss pintas night.

Nobody in their right mind wanted to miss pintas night.

But Master Karakas sank down in a chair with a huge smile while Harry stood in front of him and didn’t seem at all mad at Harry, so Harry relaxed and waited for Master Karakas to speak.

“Harry, I have mentioned to you before how special you are, right?”

Harry nodded in agreement. Master Karakas did have a habit of saying that to Harry out of the blue every now and then.

Master Karakas pulled a golden necklace out of his pocket, with a golden amulet attached to it. “Well, child, today starts your private training to hone your very special skills.”

“Okay,” Harry said agreeably. He enjoyed learning all the lessons in the school and he assumed this would be just another topic to add to the list.

“Here, put the necklace on and hold the amulet in your hands.” Master Karakas lowered the necklace around Harry’s head and Harry obediently held onto the amulet, which felt strangely cold in his hands. It also sent a shiver up his arms, causing the tiny hairs there to stand up.

“We need just a drop of your blood.” Master Karakas pricked Harry’s thumb with a sharp little needle, and pressed the digit against the gold so Harry’s blood covered some of the swirling patterns on top of it.

“All done and ready for you to use.” Master Karakas gave Harry an encouraging smile. “Now I want you to think of your mother.”

“I don’t remember her,” Harry said while giving his teacher a dubious look.

“You don’t have to remember her,” Master Karakas quickly assured him. “Summoning souls works best if you have an image of the deceased or an item that once belonged to them, or at the very least know their full name. In your case, half of you comes from your mother, Harry, so you will have no problem summoning her as long as you concentrate.”

Harry nodded, even though he wasn’t quite sure what Master Karakas was talking about. He held the amulet tightly and closed his eyes, concentrating with all his might on his mother, or rather the internal image he’d always had of her. Harry didn’t know what she looked like, but that didn’t really matter, did it, because somehow Harry knew what she felt like. When he looked deep, deep inside of himself, Harry was sure he could remember his mum, and how she used to hold him and sing songs to him while she rocked him to sleep.

“Harry,” a voice whispered, unknown and at once also the most familiar thing he’d ever heard.

Opening his eyes, Harry saw a silvery, shimmering woman floating in front of him. She was so pretty and she smiled down at him as if he was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen.

“Mum,” Harry breathed, and at once he burst into tears, unable to stop the sudden flood of emotions from escaping him in a rush. “Mummy.”

“I am here, Harry, I am always here,” his mum assured him while she crouched down, still floating a little above the floor. She smiled at him and Harry smiled back through his tears and just like that she was gone again, nothing remaining that even hinted at her ever having been there at all.

“Well done, child,” Master Karakas all but crowed, leaning forward in his chair and placing both hands on Harry’s cheeks. He pressed a long kiss to Harry’s lips and looked at him with intense, brown eyes. “You, my child, are my little diamond. All the other children here, they are made of gold, and some perhaps even of ruby or emerald. But you, Harry, are a diamond, do you understand?”

Harry gave a stiff nod, barely hearing a word his teacher said, still feeling heartbroken that his mum had left him again so soon.

“This amulet is yours now, Harry. I want you to practice summoning your mother a few times a day. The more you practice, the longer she will be able to remain with you.”

Harry’s whole face lit up as he stared at Master Karakas with wide, disbelieving eyes. “I can call her every day? And my dad?”

Master Karakas nodded, while patting Harry on his head. “Sure, and your father. But Harry…only your mother and father, no one else, do you understand? If I learn you’ve summoned anyone else, I will take the amulet away again.”

Nodding quickly, Harry swore to himself that he would obey Master Karakas in this because he did not want to lose the amulet that would let him talk to his parents as often as he wanted to.

That night, half an hour before curfew, Harry sat down on the floor in an empty classroom and held the amulet tightly between his fingers. This time he thought of both his mother and his father as best as he could and after a few minutes of intense anticipation two shimmering figures appeared.

His father looked a bit like him, Harry thought while he smiled up at the man. His parents only had time to smile back at him before they disappeared again, but Harry didn’t feel any heartbreak at the sudden loss because he knew that from then on he could summon them as often as he wanted.

As far as Harry was concerned he was no longer an orphan. He had his parents back and all because of the amazing Master Karakas.

oooooooo

Harry, age 6

Harry put as much effort as he could into practicing summoning his parents. At first they could only appear a few seconds, but like Master Karakas had promised, the more Harry summoned them, the longer they managed to stay.

Eventually Harry could have whole talks with them, and while they were surprised to see him living in a magical school in an unknown world, they were relieved to learn Harry was whole and healthy and happy.

In turn they told Harry about what had happened leading up to their deaths, how a bad man who wanted to do bad things to everyone had come to kill them. Obviously he hadn’t managed to kill Harry like he wanted to but neither his mum or dad knew what had happened after they had both perished. The dead were unable to see what happened to the living, unless someone summoned them like Harry was now doing.

Harry told them very reluctantly about living with the Dursleys and how much he’d hated it, and his mum had seemed very upset by this because as his dad explained while his mum muttered curse word after curse word, they’d made sure plenty of nice people were available to take Harry in should they die, but for some reason that hadn’t happened, obviously, but none of them knew why.

Harry soon learned that there were different amounts of power he could use to summon his parents, like using a water tap. When he opened the tap only a little bit and used a small amount of power, only he could see his parents and they remained invisible to everyone else. But if he used a lot of power he could make them visible to others as well. Harry took great delight in introducing Roy and Rindyll to his mum and dad, who in turn seemed pleased Harry had made such great friends.

Being able to summon his parents without others being the wiser was something Harry soon started taking advantage of. Every night while he was curled up on his cot, Harry summoned his mum and dad and they sat on his bed with him while Harry fell asleep listening to stories about a magical castle named Hogwarts, and a stag, dog, and wolf who had all sorts of exciting adventures there while a rat and a bat tried to make their lives difficult.

Rindyll asked Harry a short while later, when they were alone right before bedtime, if he could summon her mum for her, since Rindyll had never met her either, but Harry had to turn her down because he’d promised Master Karakas that he wouldn’t. Rindyll stared down at the floor, sadness making her shoulders slump, and Harry suggested she ask Master Karakas if Harry might summon her mother for her, and Rindyll perked up and said she would.

But before she managed to do that, Rindyll disappeared for a day.

Harry and Roy were running around the school all day looking for her until Valdis told them Rindyll had merely been sent on an errand for Master Karakas and that she’d return soon, probably the next day. That calmed the two boys down somewhat, but Harry still worried for his friend.

Rindyll did return the next day, but then had to spend a whole day in the hospital for unknown reasons, and Harry and Roy couldn’t get Valdis to explain what had happened. When Rindyll finally returned to their bedroom she was pale and bruised and the moment she saw Valdis she burst into tears. Valdis pulled Rindyll into a tight hug, her own eyes shining as she pressed her face down in Rindyll’s curls.

Harry couldn’t take it anymore, his whole body tense with anxiety. “But what happened?” he demanded as he stood in front of the crying girls.

“Not now, Harry,” Valdis all but snarled before shoving him out of the room with a firm push of magic, the door slamming shut in his face.

Rindyll refused to talk about it, and soon enough Harry and Roy decided to drop the matter because every time they brought it up, Rindyll would run off and they’d not see her again for half a day or so.

From then on, every three to four weeks, Rindyll would be missing for two days, always returning pale and bruised and needing lots of hugs from Valdis for a while.

A few months later, Roy disappeared and Harry didn’t know what to do with himself. He knew something bad happened to children who were not seen for a day or two. After this had started happening to Rindyll, Harry had paid a bit more attention to the comings and goings of other children and he started noticing that most of them did indeed briefly disappear on a regular basis.

Some never even returned. Lydia, the very shy girl assigned to their bedroom, who’d not really talked to anyone, even when Harry and Roy, and later Rindyll had made an effort to reach out to her, had just been gone one day. Harry had overheard Master Karakas say to one of the teachers that it was a pity not all children were cut out for the real work, and Harry had simply assumed this meant Lydia had been sent home. He’d felt sorry for her for not being able to stay at their amazing school but then he’d put her out of his mind, too busy adjusting to his new life.

But now Harry wondered if Lydia’s disappearance might have something to do with what was happening to Rindyll and Roy and all the other children that were sent on ‘errands’.

When Roy returned he, too, had to spend a day in the hospital, and Genka had to send Harry away more than a few times, even threatening to exclude him from the next pintas night before Harry would finally listen and leave her domain alone.

Roy also looked pale and sad when he finally was released from the hospital.

Harry gave him an inquiring look as they sat side by side on one of the stone benches in the main courtyard. “So what happened?”

Roy shrugged, not meeting Harry’s gaze, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “They hurt me.”

“Who is they?” Harry demanded, anger rushing inside of him like a small feral beast.

“Just some men.” And that was the last Roy would say about it, no matter how much Harry tried to get him to talk.

From that moment on, Roy also became a regular to do ‘errands’ for Master Karakas that lasted more than a day.

Harry finally asked his parents about it when he couldn’t figure it out himself what was happening to his two best friends.

“Perhaps they’re being given private lessons,” his mum suggested. “You receive those as well, don’t you? And magical lessons can cause injuries if people aren’t careful.”

It was true. Master Karakas still gave Harry private lessons twice a week. Usually, Harry had to demonstrate his summoning skills while Master Karakas gave him pointers and told him more about summoning souls, and other times Master Karakas made Harry learn runes that were different from the ones they all got to learn during their regular classes. And when Harry had asked Master Karakas why he had to learn even more runes when they weren’t using them at all, Master Karakas had explained that learning runes was a little bit like learning a foreign language. You might not immediately use the language in your daily life, but once you knew it you could put it to good use for the rest of your life.

His dad got a thoughtful frown on his face while he pondered the situation of the missing children. “Harry, can you send us away from you? We always stick with you, but can you give me a task to do that allows me to spend time in this word without staying near you?”

Harry widened his eyes at the implication of that. “We can try. Dad, I want you to go to the hospital and see what Genka is up to.”

His dad got a smile on his shimmering face and floated away from Harry and his mum. He returned minutes later and was able to tell them exactly what Genka had been doing, namely scrubbing bedpans. Not the most exciting news in the world, but they now knew that Harry could use his parents to gather information unseen. Because as long as Harry regulated his powers while summoning, no one else could see his mum and dad.

“The next time one of your friends disappears, call me and tell me to go with them,” his dad suggested and when Roy next went missing a few weeks later, Harry did exactly that.

His father returned quicker than Harry had thought he would and his face with drawn tight with tension. His mum, who’d stayed chatting with Harry in the empty classroom they were using, started looking equally worried when his dad wouldn’t say anything for a few long moments.

“Don’t ask,” his dad snapped when Harry opened his mouth to do exactly that. “Just know that there are people here in this world that hurt your friends. Very bad people.”

Harry swallowed audibly. “So now what do we do?”

“There is nothing we can do at this moment,” his dad said while giving Harry a stern look when Harry got ready to protest. He didn’t want anyone to hurt his friends. “You’re a child, Harry. Right now there is nothing you can do to stop this, but once you get older that might change.”

“Just be there for your friends, sweetheart,” his mum suggested while she gave Harry an encouraging smile. “If they’re hurt, they’ll need someone they can feel safe with.”

And that is what Harry did from then on. Whenever Rindyll and Roy came back pale and bruised, Harry would sit with them quietly, distract them with games, sneak them treats from the kitchen and read them stories from the books Valdis let him borrow as long as he promised to be careful with them.

Harry still wanted to do more but even he recognized that he was still very young and couldn’t do much magic yet and thus stood no chance against the full-grown warriors that occupied the city below them.

Because that was something Harry had learned over time. That the city that bore the very pleasant name of Misty Springs was a wretched hive of scum and villainy. The city and surrounding countryside was ruled by a Warlord named Bram the Red, and anyone that tried to go up against him ended up dead. Yet still plenty of people, some loners and some Warlords that commanded entire armies, tried to take over Bram the Red’s territory on a regular basis, leading to all sorts of mercenaries and other swords for hire calling Misty Springs home since there was lots of work available for someone who made a living killing other people.

And once Harry had learned all those lovely details about the city he lived in he was suddenly very glad they hadn’t been allowed to explore it on their own before.

On his parents’ insistence, Harry also started sending them out on a daily basis to explore the world around them. They started with the school buildings themselves, especially the parts Harry wasn’t allowed in like the basement and the public reception rooms in the front near the entrance.

“Harry, sweetheart, trust that we want what’s best for you,” his mum said giving him an almost pleading look. “We’ll share what we think is appropriate for you to hear at this age, okay? And in the future, when you’re older, we’ll tell you everything we discover.”

“Yeah, fine,” Harry replied, disappointed that his parents wouldn’t tell him every little detail they found.

“I can tell you Karakas is hoarding a small mountain of gold in a very well secured room down there,” his dad said with a huge grin.

“Really?” Harry’s whole face lit up at the idea that there was treasure buried beneath their school.

After his parents had thoroughly explored the school Harry sent them further away, at their own insistence. Harry’s parents seemed determined to learn everything they could about the world their only son was now living in.

His dad discovered a smuggler’s path that ran partially along the back of the school and that wound precariously up the side of the mountain and through the jungle for miles and miles until it ended in a whole different territory. It wasn’t used very often but according to his dad it was still in reasonable repair and could be used if they ever needed to make a quick escape.

His parents did urge him not to tell anyone he was sending them out to gather information, not even Roy and Rindyll. If it came out Harry was essentially using his dead parents as invisible spies, losing his precious amulet would probably be the least of his worries. So Harry kept up the charade of talking to his parents about childish things while in reality they were gathering more information about anyone and everyone than they even knew what to do with.

ooooooo

Harry age 7

Harry was finally allowed to accompany Valdis on an errand into the city. For the first time ever, Harry walked through the iron gates that kept the students in and the people of Misty Springs out and he gaped as he took in the city with his own eyes. His parents had already told him lots of interesting details but it was still an enormously amazing experience to see and hear and smell everything for himself.

Their school was located halfway up the mountain, and the only building that was higher up than that was Bram the Red’s castle and surrounding compound located half a city away. Just below their school were lots of white, stone buildings, homes mostly but also stores and some workshops, all occupied by the more affluent inhabitants of the city.

They stopped briefly on a ledge that overlooked a lot of the city below them.

“That’s Shit Creek,” Valdis told him, pointing out what looked like slums near the very lowest point of the valley, right beside the river that crossed through the city. Harry could see hundreds if not thousands of little huts built practically on top of each other, some no more than loose boards tied together to form a decrepit roof held up by a few crooked poles driven into the mud. Others seemed to be a bit sturdier, with solid wooden walls, but none looked particularly pleasant to live in.

“Why is it called that?” Harry asked with a huge grin. Imagine living in a place called Shit Creek.

“Because all our shit runs straight through them before being dumped in the river,” Valdis said with a chuckle.

It was one of Misty Spring’s advantages, that there were so many running springs found around the city. Thanks to a system of pipes and canals, running water was available pretty much everywhere up The Hill, the part of town where their school was situated. They even had flushing toilets in the form of stone ditches that had constant water running through them, while wooden boards with holes in them covered the ditches and people could sit on them to take care of business.

It had been a bit strange at first to have communal toilets, people sitting side by side while they went number 1 or 2, but Harry got used to it soon enough. There were always huge baskets of leaves available to wipe with, and those leaves were tossed in the shit streams as well. Harry wondered if the people in Shit Creek saw lots of used leaves floating by in the open sewers around them.

They continued their journey to the bakery. There was a summer holiday coming up to celebrate the sun goddess Mar and traditionally for that occasion they ate a type of pastry, marsals, made of wheat, rolled up and filled with fruit jams. Since wheat had to be imported from the plains far away, it was quite expensive, and so they rarely got bread or pastries at the school, instead using boks that grew locally in the forest as a starchy component of their meals. But occasionally, for a holiday, Karakas was willing to spend some gold on his pupils, and that’s why Valdis and Harry were sent out to order enough pastries for the whole school.

“What a pretty thing you are,” a brute of a man called out to Valdis. He stood surrounded by other gruff men outside a tavern under the ripped awning, all holding large tankards.

“No, mate, you don’t want to mess with them,” one of his companions said urgently.

“And why not? Is that scrawny kid going to stop me?” the brute demanded, face red and sweaty in the humid heat.

“No, but Lord Carcass won’t be pleased and he will curse you. And if not him, then Bram himself will have your balls. The chattel is protected unless you’ve paid for them, fool,” the other guy said with a roll of his eyes.

The brute waved them off with a rough gesture and went back to gulping down whatever was in his tankard.

Valdis didn’t say anything, though Harry had noticed her tense shoulders and narrowed eyes as they walked past the men.

“Why did they call the master Lord Carcass?” Harry asked once they were well and truly past the tavern.

Valdis snorted. “Because Karakas buys corpses and uses them for magical experiments. Karakas hates that name.”

“What?” Harry almost tripped over a small branch that someone had probably lost while carrying firewood.

“When someone in the city has to get rid of a corpse but they don’t want to properly cremate them, they can sell it to Karakas.” Valdis gave Harry an unconcerned shrug. “When you’re older you’ll use some of them to practice your magic on.”

“Ah.” Harry wasn’t sure what to make of that, but soon enough he got distracted by a troop of screeching monkeys that swarmed over the rooftops and across the street before them. They were the size of large housecats and had bright red faces and long brown tails and Harry had seen them almost every day in the trees around the school, but the school itself was warded against them because apparently they were little thieves that would steal the food right off your plate.

When they turned a corner Harry got his first good look of a panky. They were enormous beasts of burden, used mainly to pull heavy carts up and down the mountains. They vaguely resembled oxen, but they had four horns, lots of loose skin around their heads and necks and the hooves of a horse. They were about the size of a large draft horse, and Harry stared at them, utterly in awe as they walked past a pair that were hitched up to a large cart loaded with boks.

There were also plenty of regular horses around, but they were used for riding, not for pulling carts. They passed a number of men and some women on horseback, most dressed for battle, with leather gauntlets around their bare arms and long swords hanging from their belts or tied across their backs.

The bakery was a fascinating place. The part that was open to the public was fairly small, with a wooden counter and behind it two racks that held loaves of bread in several sizes. On the counter stood a few trays with different types of pastries. While Valdis got the order for the school in, Harry shuffled to the side of the bakery, so he could see around the corner of the shop. There he saw several large woodfired ovens, and piles and piles of firewood. There was a persistent smell of smoke around the whole place.

“Harry, come on!” Valdis had already left the store again and Harry hurried after her, still amazed by all he was seeing around him. Misty Springs might be a violent place, but Harry really wished he could explore it even further. He couldn’t wait to tell Roy and Rindyll all about everything he’d seen on this adventure.

Valdis led them straight back to the school, just as thunderclouds started forming in the distance. It was that time of day again and they started walking a little faster because neither had brought their cloaks and they didn’t want to get soaked by the incoming downpour.

Just inside the gates of the school, in the courtyard there, stood a small hand-pulled cart with big wooden wheels, with a stained linen sheet covering whatever was lying on top of it.

Master Karakas was yelling at the burly man who was holding a small wooden chest, and since they were blocking the entrance to the building Valdis and Harry stepped to the side to wait quietly.

“This is getting out of control! Another investment down the drain because someone couldn’t control themselves!” Master Karakas gestured wildly, face flushed with anger. “You know how long it takes to get my pupils ready for market? Years and years. In the meantime they can earn their living by servicing those willing to pay, but that does not mean they are expendable goods!”

“Lord Bram is aware of this and he sends his honest apologies and this bounty in recompense for your loss.” The burly man sounded utterly bored as he opened the small wooden chest, revealing it was filled with gold coins and many coloured gemstones. “Lord Bram also wants to assure you he’ll have words with Rylan to make sure this won’t happen again.”

“He had better because this is the umpteenth of my pupils he’s broken beyond repair!” Master Karakas all but yanked the wooden chest out of the burly man’s arms.

Meanwhile Harry looked from Master Karakas to the cart with wide eyes, realizing they were talking about a student of the school who had been seriously hurt. Without even knowing what he was doing, Harry took a step closer to the cart. From this new angle he could see a small hand sticking out from under the sheet.

Harry knew that hand, had known it for years and years, because it was the hand of his best friend. Harry’s head seemed to be caught in a daze while he stepped closer and closer to the cart while Valdis was distracted by the still arguing men.

Grabbing a corner of the sheet, Harry lifted it and stood on his tiptoes to look at the body on the cart.

Roy looked utterly pale and still, eyes wide open and glassy. His face was covered in blood and around his whole neck ran a broad line of black bruises.

Harry must have made a sound, but he wasn’t sure because around him the entire world had stopped moving and all that was left were the mangled remains of his best friend.

“Girl, get Harry away from that,” Master Karakas snapped in the distance, wooden chest clinking in his grip. “And Broi, Meeren, come and take the body downstairs and put it in the tank. At least we’ll be able to use it at a later date, so it’s not a complete loss.”

Harry barely saw or heard anything as Valdis grabbed his arm and dragged him inside the school. His best friend was dead, murdered by someone called Rylan.

oooooo

Harry, age 8

It had been a few months since Harry and Rindyll had lost Roy and ever since then they stuck together like they were joined at the hip. Rindyll had disappeared a time or two herself since losing Roy and during those days Harry had been unable to eat or sleep, sick with worry he’d lose his remaining friend as well.

His parents did their best to comfort him while they exchanged worried glances with each other. Harry’s mother, at her own request, spent a lot of time spying on Bram’s castle and its occupants. She told Harry a few things of what she discovered there, like that Rylan was apparently Bram’s second in command and had a very bad reputation, but Harry got the feeling there was a lot she still wasn’t telling him.

Meanwhile, his father had taken to keeping an eye on Master Karakas and spying on any visitor he received in the school.

And Harry applied himself to his classes, because his parents insisted he do so, even if he wasn’t nearly feeling as enthusiastic anymore as he’d once had. Master Karakas continued their private lessons, which now included learning how to apply the unique runes Harry had been studying for almost a year now.

Rindyll became rather withdrawn and Harry wished there was more he could do for her. He made sure she was comfortable and well looked after whenever she came back from an ‘errand’, but she still refused to talk about it and Harry didn’t press her to do so.

And then, one afternoon out of the blue, while Harry had just summoned his mum and dad to send them on more spying missions, Valdis found him and shoved a tray full of little bowls of dried fruit and nuts and other delicacies in his arms.

“Come with me,” Valdis ordered him, carrying a tray holding many small glasses and a large bottle of boksala, which was a popular alcoholic drink made from fermented boks and had a milky white colour. “Harry, whatever you do, you must hold your tongue, do you understand? What you’re about to see isn’t pleasant, but it’s important you see it.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed easily, his curiosity going into overdrive at the idea of learning something new and important. Harry’s parents, invisible to anyone but him, floated after him while exchanging a few tight looks between them.

Harry followed Valdis to the front of the school, towards the section normally off-limits to the students, and inside a large reception room that held a table with many comfortable chairs.

Master Karakas was there, as were a few other people, all seated around the table.

“Ah, there are the refreshments,” Master Karakas said while giving everyone a huge smile. If he was surprised to see Harry there, he didn’t show it. Valdis and Harry put their trays on the table, Valdis serving everyone drinks while Harry distributed the little bowls around the table so everyone could eat what they wanted. After they were done, Valdis grabbed Harry by the arm and led him to a empty piece of wall, where they stood side by side quietly, servants waiting for their next order.

“That is Bram the Red,” Harry’s mother whispered to him while gesturing at the biggest man in the room.

Bram the Red was huge, with the thickest arms Harry had ever seen. He had long reddish-blond hair and a wild beard, and the kind of fair skin that refused to tan properly so he always looked slightly sunburnt with lots of freckles everywhere.

“And that is Rylan Bloodstone,” his mum whispered while pointing to the man beside Bram. Rylan wasn’t nearly as huge as Bram, then again, few men were, but Rylan was tall and well-muscled in his own right. He had short, spiky hair that couldn’t seem to decide if it was brown or black and his face was marred by several deep scars crisscrossing it. His eyes were grey and piercing and around his neck hung a large gemstone set in gold, exactly the colour of fresh blood. His bare arms were covered by many swirling tattoos, and if Harry hadn’t been overcome with grief he might have recognized some of those patterns.

Harry’s throat closed as he looked at the murderer of his best friend from under his eyelids, head held down respectfully as he stood still.

“Harry, son, you have to stay calm,” his father whispered in his ear as he crouched next to him. “I swear to you, that your mother and I will do anything in our power to help you out of here and to take down Rylan if that is what you want, but right now you have to remain calm, do you understand?”

A small wave of relief washed over Harry, knowing that his parents were there for him and would help him in the future to make sure Rylan got what was coming to him, but for now Harry understood he had to keep it together otherwise things could only end badly for him. So he released a deep, silent breath and willed his own body to stop trembling with grief and fury.

“It is always a pleasure to visit the House of Chattel,” Bram said in a too loud voice. The first impression you might get from him was that he was a jovial man who enjoyed his food and drinks, but there was something hard and flinty hidden not that deeply in his pale green eyes. This wasn’t a man you wanted to cross, no matter how good-natured he might appear.

“And we are always most pleased and honoured to have you, Lord Bram,” Master Karakas said while toasting the large man with a glass full of boksala. “Ah, and here is our guest of honour.”

The door opened and in stepped Astrid, a young woman around Valdis’ age. She looked around the room in clear apprehension, especially when spotting Rylan, but Master Karakas waved her in further. Harry knew Astrid as a friend of Valdis’, and as someone who’d helped him learn his sums when he’d had trouble with them at first. She was always friendly with the younger kids, unlike some other students who ignored or even bullied those younger than them.

“Come, Astrid, let Lord Bram have a good look at you.” Turning towards Bram, Master Karakas continued in a voice that wouldn’t be out of place on a seasoned salesman. “She specializes in healing and warding, though she is also very talented in potions and curses.”

“Good, good,” Bram said while looking Astrid over a time or two. “She will do. We’re riding against Walt the Silent next week and we need all the healers we can get. The usual price?”

Master Karakas nodded politely and watched quietly as one of the other men at the table hauled a small chest up from the ground. Harry could hear it was probably filled with coins and gems and he was genuinely shocked to realize that Master Karakas had sold Astrid for a pile of gold.

“My thanks, Lord Bram. As always it is a pleasure doing business with you,” Master Karakas said smoothly while refilling everyone’s glasses until the bottle of boksala was empty.

“The pleasure was all mine, Lord Carcass,” Bram said with a booming laugh before downing his drink.

“That boy, how much for a day with him?” Rylan asked while gesturing in Harry’s direction with his full glass before sipping it.

“Oh, he’s not for sale,” Master Karakas said quickly, face paling at the thought of Rylan getting his hands on Harry. “He’s a most talented sorcerer,” he continued, now addressing Bram again. “Once I’m done with him he will probably be the most powerful one I’ve ever trained and I already have him reserved for you, Lord Bram. It would be a shame to see all that effort wasted prematurely.”

“Rylan, you need not fuck every tight hole you can find!” Bram slapped Rylan on the back while giving him a wide grin. “Keep it in your pants for a change, because your cock is costing me enough as is. Come, we must be away.”

“Then there is only the matter of adjusting the collar.” Master Karakas and Bram both got up and stepped up to Astrid, who was looking very pale with her lips pursed tightly. Bram got out a small knife and sliced his thumb, pressing it against the largest gemstone on Astrid’s leather collar, apparently familiar with whatever ritual this was.

Master Karakas had his staff in hand and pressed the tip against Bram’s hand while speaking a complicated set of words, probably a spell of sorts.

Before Harry could see what else was happening, a hand cupped his face and raised his chin up.

“Such a pretty one you are,” Rylan said with a sly smile that showed that one of his front teeth was chipped and blackened. “Too bad you are Lord Carcass’ personal little whore, but mark my words, boy, I will find a way to make you mine.”

Beside him, Harry’s mother and father both made tight noises of outrage, but Harry kept as still as possible while Rylan studied him. There was something about Rylan, not just any of the obvious matters, that made Harry’s skin prickle and his stomach roll in the most unpleasant of ways.

“Rylan, come!” Bram yelled and Rylan released Harry’s face with one last swipe of his thumb across Harry’s lips. Harry barely managed to hold back a violent shudder at that contact.

Before long the room was empty and Valdis rushed out the door and Harry hurried after her. “What was –”

“Not here,” Valdis snapped while she made her way to the classrooms that were empty that time of day. They entered the first available one they found and Valdis closed the door harder than she probably meant to.

Harry stared up at her with wide eyes. “Karakas just sold Astrid!”

Valdis crossed her arms and briefly lowered her head while releasing a loud snort. “Thanks for noticing, Harry.”

“But why?” Harry asked, feeling genuinely confused and distressed about all he had just witnessed. “Why would he do that?”

“Because we’re slaves, moron!” Valdis yanked on her own collar violently. “We’re here to be trained and sold to anyone who is willing to pay the right amount of gold.”

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times but no sound came out. He quickly glanced to the side at his parents, but they both looked rather resigned and not at all surprised.

Had they known all along?

Harry couldn’t ask them at that moment, so he focused his attention back on Valdis who was looking at him with narrowed brown eyes. “And Rylan, he wanted to buy me for a day, right?”

“To rape you,” Valdis said without any emotion in her voice.

Harry blinked, unfamiliar with that word. “Huh?”

“To have sex with you. You know what sex is, right?”

Harry nodded. The monkeys in the trees around the school got up to all sorts of funny things and some of the older students had taken great delight in telling the younger ones what was going on, so Harry had a good idea what Rylan might want to do to him.

“Rape is when someone forces you to have sex against your will,” Valdis explained, still sounding very frosty.

“Oh.” Harry considered this and then finally, finally he realized what was really going on around him. “That is what happened to Roy! And to Rindyll!” He looked up at Valdis with wide eyes. “And to you.”

Valdis nodded before flicking her fingers against Harry’s forehead. “But not you, because you are the master’s precious little diamond.”

Harry suddenly felt deeply ashamed for reasons he couldn’t quite articulate. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“How you could miss any of this, seriously.” Valdis pulled on her collar again. “Everyone here wears a slave collar, Harry.”

Shrugging, Harry stared at the floor. “I thought it was just part of the uniform.”

“You really are a blind little boy,” Valdis said, voice still full of annoyance but then she sighed and seemed to relax a little bit. “But you are a powerful little boy, so I am counting on you to get all of us out of here.”

“Now?” Harry asked, a flash of panic warming his chest.

Valdis flicked her fingers against his forehead again. “No, not now. When you are older, fool.”

“Ah, okay.” Harry nodded, and inhaled a deep breath to calm his racing heart. “Yeah, I want to get us all out of here, too. I’ll do my best, I promise.”

“Good.” And without saying anything else, Valdis turned on her heels and walked out of the room, the door falling shut behind her.

“Did you know?” Harry asked, touching the collar around his neck with trembling fingers as his parents floated closer.

“We figured it out eventually,” his mother said with a kind smile.

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?” Harry’s voice cracked and his throat filled with a lump and he stepped towards one of the benches and sat down, shoulders hunched. For some reason he felt like his entire world had crumbled. Roy’s death had already caused quite a few cracks to appear in Harry’s peaceful existence, but now it felt like everything was gone and Harry didn’t know anymore how he was supposed to live in the world around him.

“Harry, sweetheart, you’re only eight years old.” His mum sat down beside him as best she could and placed her arm around his shoulders. It always felt a little chilly, that kind of contact, but Harry treasured it nonetheless.

“We were waiting until you were a little older,” his father added while he crouched down in front of him. “We’ve been collecting all the information we can so that when the time is right we can help you escape.”

Harry’s mum swallowed and gave his dad a considering look. “I do think the time is right now, James, especially now that Rylan has taken a personal interest in Harry.”

“Yeah, it’s probably better to get going sooner rather than later.”

“Get going with what exactly?” Harry asked, looking between his parents while hope bloomed in his chest. Maybe his parents would finally tell him everything so Harry could prepare for the worst to come.

“We’re going to help you plan to get out of here.” His mum held up a hand when Harry looked ready to burst with questions. “We’re not sure yet how you’re going to accomplish that, but we figure the more plans we make, the better.”

“Yep.” His dad gave Harry a wide smile. “And the first thing you need to do, Harry, is call in more troops.”

“Huh?” Harry blinked at his father in great confusion.

“What he means,” his mother explained with a chuckle, “Is that you should gather the extended family to help us.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

For a good long while after that faithful day Harry couldn’t stop feeling incredibly dumb that he hadn’t noticed any of the horrible things that were going on around him any sooner. His parents comforted him and told him it wasn’t his fault that he’d missed the horrors around him because he was still only a child.

Well, whatever it was, the veil had well and truly been lifted and once seen, the reality of the world around him couldn’t be unseen. Harry now knew that he lived in a world filled with violence and death, where children were commodities to be rented out and traded and sold, and once in a while to be fucked to death.

Most of the beautiful sheen that had covered Harry’s experiences in Santika had disappeared altogether, and the world that was left behind was bleak and unforgiving.

Nonetheless, Harry’s parents wouldn’t let him wallow in the misery he suddenly felt for very long.

“We will help you get out of here, sweetheart,” his mum told him time and again while his dad nodded with a reassuring smile. “You won’t always be a child and you have Karakas’ favour, so you’re going to use that to your advantage.”

Harry’s parents insisted he start summoning extended family members, because as his parents explained, they needed more people they could trust and who could help them learn about the world and spy on all Harry’s enemies, but Harry wasn’t sure at first. “Karakas told me I couldn’t summon anyone else or he would take away my amulet.”

“Sometimes you have to take risks, Harry,” his dad said with a firm nod. “Don’t tell anyone about this, simple as that.”

“And the first thing we’ll put on the list to research is how to make such an amulet yourself, so that even if you do lose it, you can simply replace it,” Harry’s mum added, and Harry figured that was a good enough plan so he agreed.

The first person Harry summoned was his paternal grandfather, a man named Fleamont Potter.

Harry was still only eight years old and while he was really good at summoning his parents by then, adding a third soul to the mix wasn’t easy. The first time Fleamont Potter appeared alongside his parents, he only had time for a quick, excited greeting when meeting his grandson before he disappeared again.

And so the process began over the following weeks and months and years of practicing summoning more and more family members simultaneously until Harry was able to keep them all tied to the land of the living for hours on end.

Fleamont Potter and his wife Euphemia Potter-MacMillan were the first ones to join their Dream Team, as Harry’s father liked to call it. It only took a brief explanation from James to convince them to join in the operation of seeing Harry free and safe. Fleamont suggested Harry summon his younger brother Charlus Potter and his wife Dorea Potter-Black next, knowing they would want in on the adventure, which was indeed the case. Charlus was a no-nonsense man who had been a curse-breaker in his life, and Dorea had been a Charms Master, and they were eager to assist their grand-nephew in any way they could.

Next to join the Dream Team were Fleamont’s parents, Henry Potter and Bernadine Potter-Smith. Henry and Bernadine had both been Ward Masters in life.

Henry beamed when he was introduced to his great-grandson. “Named after me, then?”

“Er…” Lily said while looking between Henry and Harry. “And after my grandfather Harry Evans.”

“Ah.” Henry didn’t let up any of his obvious enthusiasm. “But mostly after me, I bet.”

Lily wisely said nothing to that and Harry snickered and felt a wonderfully comforting glow inside his chest at being surrounded by so many family members. They might all be dead, but they were still his family and happy to meet him and to help him in his life. And that was all that mattered, really.

After Harry had summoned some Potters, Euphemia insisted Harry summon some MacMillans next, starting with Harry’s great-grandparents. Patroclus MacMillan was a tall man who’d been an Auror in life and his wife Charis MacMillan-Black had been a renowned Potions Master who had improved the burn salve to such an extend that even third-degree burns no longer left any scars. Charis had looked genuinely happy to learn from Lily that her version of the burn salve was still in use when Lily was alive.

Euphemia insisted that Harry also summon her favourite aunt, Patroclus’ sister, Eustice MacMillan. Eustice had been a spinster in life, insisting loudly and often that she needed neither man or woman to make her happy and that she was perfectly capable of living a successful and fulfilling life on her own. Eustice was a woman with sharp features and a tight bun, and in life she’d been a celebrated Enchantress, which was one step up from Charms Master, who travelled all over the world to study and to share her craft.

The first thing she said to Harry, after James had explained to his great-aunt why they were there, was, “Thank Merlin for you, child. Do you have any idea how dreadfully boring it is to be dead?” And after that she insisted on haunting the library, as she liked to call it, since she had an insatiable appetite for knowledge and wanted to learn as much as she could. And yes, she had been a Ravenclaw in life, why do you ask?

In the library Auntie Eustice, as she insisted Harry call her, simply hovered behind people sitting so she could read whatever book they had open over their shoulders. This quickly made Auntie Eustice an expert in many Santikan subjects, from trivial things like 101 recipes for boks, to how to use the local runes to construct the most amazing wards. She also soon became an unofficial librarian, knowing exactly where to find what book anywhere in the library.

All the other family members insisted Harry address them by their first names, because otherwise it got a little confusing with all the grand-parents and great-grandparents milling about.

The last person Harry summoned was Rigel Potter, his second cousin and son of Charlus and Dorea. Rigel had suffered from a magical wasting disease, brought on by many centuries of inbreeding in the Black family, according to Dorea. Rigel had been able to attend Hogwarts for a year and a half, before he became too ill and had to go home. He was a proud Gryffindor who’d sadly passed away a little after his fifteenth birthday.

But since he’d missed out so much in life, Rigel was more than happy to help Harry out, and Harry had a special mission for him.

“I want you to keep an eye on Rindyll whenever I’m not around,” Harry said, giving Rigel a serious look. “I’ve already lost one friend, I don’t want to lose another one.”

“I’ll stick to her like a niffler on gold, promise,” Rigel said with a little salute and then he’d floated off to find Rindyll while Harry wondered what on earth a niffler was and why it would stick on gold.

The rest of the Dream Team soon came up with tasks for themselves as well. Both Dorea and Charis insisted that Harry learn occlumency, a type of magic that would protect his mind and help him think and learn. Charis appointed herself Harry’s teacher, since she had more patience than Dorea, and from that moment on every night while lying in his cot, Harry no longer had his parents there to tell him stories, but Charis to lead him through guided meditation.

Dorea, meanwhile, decided she was going to spy on the taverns in Misty Springs. “It is important to know what is going on in the city around you, Harry, and the best way to learn about any news or rumours is from the inebriated, since they cannot control their tongues.”

Patroclus the Auror appointed himself as the official spy of Bram the Red and his castle, taking over from a relieved Lily, and Charlus decided to stick himself to Karakas, freeing up James.

Henry and Bernadine Potter, meanwhile, went about exploring the whole of Misty Springs and beyond, going much further than James had been to see what lay beyond the city and how best to navigate it when dealing with all sorts of scenarios, from sneaking out in the dead of night, to evacuating in a hurry during a natural disaster.

That left James, Lily, Fleamont and Euphemia to teach Harry and guide him in his research.

And there was a lot of research to be done.

The first thing Lily did was have a serious talk with Harry, while his dad and grandparents hovered around him. “Harry, sweetheart, if I could give you a carefree childhood, I would, but you’ve seen for yourself the kind of world you now live in. That means that from now on, you have to grow up, and you have to do it quickly. You have to learn as much as you can, and you have to do that quickly as well.”

Harry nodded, understanding that playtime was over and from then on learning new things was a matter of life and death for him. And so he quit messing about and applied himself to his studies as best as he could.

And there was plenty to study. Harry made sure he learned all the official lessons they got in the classes that the school taught, everything from potions and spells, runes and warding and healing and curses. They weren’t doing much real magic yet at their young ages, but they were learning more and more theory the older they got. The only real magic Harry got to do so far were small things, like drawing a runic circle to size of a saucer to summon a bright little light, and to use certain crystals, charge them with magic in a runic circle, and then stick them in the earth to help plants grow.

His parents and grandparents put together a detailed extracurricular study-plan for him.

“First things first,” Lily said with a determined frown. “You have to get access to the library.”

“That would be the perfect moment to start buttering up Karakas,” James added. Harry looked between his parents dubiously, but he heard them out and during his next private lesson Harry executed their plan.

“Master,” Harry said innocently while he’d finished translating some runes Karakas had written down for him on a piece of slate. “You said to Lord Bram that I had the makings of a great sorcerer. Is that true?”

“Oh yes, my precious little diamond,” Karakas said with a wide smile, showing off all of his very white teeth. “You are going to be great.”

“Is that why you gave me this amulet?” Harry asked, still staring at Karakas with wide eyes to emphasize his youth and ignorance. “I’m really happy I can talk to my parents every day.”

Karakas’ face shut down for a moment before his eyebrows drew up in a thoughtful frown. “You, child, have been touched by death. I do not know how and when, but I know that you carry death in you. And because of that, I am convinced that you can become a great necromancer, more powerful than this world has ever seen.”

“Necromancer?” Harry asked, unfamiliar with the word.

“Yes, my diamond.” Karakas rubbed his hands together and offered Harry another wide smile. “You will one day control all that is dead and there will be no one in this world who can stop you then.”

Harry definitely perked up at hearing that. “I can’t wait,” he said honestly. “But shouldn’t I be able to read books then, to learn how to do all that. You know, in the library.”

Karakas blinked for a moment. “You want access to the library? Done.”

That went much better than Harry thought it would, and he happily relayed the conversation to his parents and grandparents, but they reacted not at all as Harry expected.

“No,” Lily said, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she hovered in front of Harry. “No, Harry. Absolutely not.”

“By Merlin’s smelly underpants,” James muttered, shaking his head. “They want you to become a necromancer of all things.”

Fleamont and Euphemia just looked very, very unhappy as they stared at Harry.

Unsure of what to do with that kind of unexpected response, Harry summoned his other family members to him in the hopes that they may talk some sense into his parents because Harry desperately wanted to be so powerful that no one could stop him.

The newly arrived family members didn’t look very happy with Harry’s future career either when James and Lily informed them. Well, Dorea and Charis merely looked thoughtful, but the rest quickly joined in to loudly and vehemently voice their objections.

Well, all except for one.

“Shame on you!” Auntie Eustice snapped, while pointing a finger at each of the gathered people. “Shame on you! Harry has been summoning souls, your souls, since he was five years old, and now you suddenly have a problem with that?”

“But necromancy is forbidden,” Henry mumbled, and floated backwards a little when Auntie Eustice whipped around to glare at him.

“This isn’t Hogwarts, or the wizarding world. There isn’t a ministry here to give you fines or chuck you in the slammer. There is only our nephew, our blood, alone in this world. Brother,” Auntie Eustice turned to look at Patroclus, “You’ve seen what this world is truly like, haven’t you?”

Patroclus gave a solemn nod. “Aye, I’ve seen more than I ever wanted to see up in that blasted castle.”

“Now the MacMillans are as light as they come and I am proud of that, but I’d also like to think that the MacMillans aren’t stupid.” Auntie Eustice gave each person gathered a long, intense look. “If the only way our nephew, our blood, can survive in this world is by becoming a necromancer, then by Hecate and Isis, we will help him become the best necromancer that has ever lived. And if you don’t like that, you can all bloody well scuttle back to the afterlife, you bunch of cowardly ghosts.”

A few long moments of silence followed as everyone stared at everyone else, until Patroclus cleared his throat. “I believe my sister has the right of it. If we want our kin to survive, we have to be willing to help him, even if that means resorting to magics that might seem unsavoury.”

“I agree,” Charis said at once. “I’ll help you Harry, as much as I possibly can.”

“And so will I,” Dorea chimed in. This caused Charlus to sigh, look between his wife and Harry and then nod as well.

Bernadine folded her hands and frowned for a moment. “We’ve all been working towards Harry’s eventual escape, but we don’t know where he will go from here. We don’t know what the rest of this world is like and we certainly don’t know if he can ever even return to the wizarding world.” Bernadine looked towards James and Lily. “Harry has to be able to survive in this world even beyond Misty Springs. I’ll help him with that, even if it means that he has to learn magics that are illegal elsewhere.”

Henry considered that and then nodded in agreement with his wife. “Yeah, from what we can tell, the whole of Santika is a violent place. Once we get him out of here, he’ll still be in danger. I’ll help.”

That left James, Lily, Fleamont and Euphemia as the last ones who hadn’t yet voiced their support.

“Harry, we want you to become strong and powerful,” Lily said in a pleading tone. “But you have to understand that necromancy is dangerous magic. You can lose yourself in it and become just as bad as someone like Rylan.”

Harry shivered at that thought. He didn’t want to be anything like that monster, ever.

“Not as long as he has us,” Euphemia said, much to everyone’s surprise. “Think about it, Lily. Harry has his family, dead as we are. He isn’t alone, exploring dangerous magics that can overpower him. He has us to guide him every step of the way.”

“I hadn’t looked at it like that,” Fleamont said while he gave his wife a considering look. “I do believe you make a good point, darling. We’ll help you, Harry.”

James looked from his parents to Harry and back and then crouched down in front of his son. “Promise me, Harry, that you will do everything in your power to be good, even when learning these kinds of magic.”

“I promise,” Harry whispered, feeling rather overwhelmed by everyone’s serious reactions.

“James,” Lily said, one hand rubbing across her chest in a nervous gesture. “James, do we really want this for our son?”

“They’re right,” James said, getting up and floating over to Lily. “Harry is stuck here for Merlin knowns how long, perhaps even his whole life. And this world is nothing like the wizarding world. Harry needs all the magic he can get just to make it to adulthood, but it doesn’t stop there. He’ll have to live his whole life and he needs to be powerful enough to do that. Besides, do you really think Karakas will take no for an answer if Harry were to tell him he doesn’t want to study it?”

“All right,” Lily finally sighed. She rubbed a hand over her face and then smiled down at her son. “We’ll help you, but you have to promise to follow our instructions. No running off to do any magic behind our backs. And ask for our help if you need it.”

“I promise, Mum,” Harry said solemnly and that was that. From that moment on Harry was officially a student of necromancy and he had his whole family’s support, no matter how reluctantly.

Something had dawned on a few people during that confrontation, though, and Lily urged Harry to study maps in the library, now that he finally had access to it.

“Bernadine was right,” Lily said when Harry wondered why on earth he had to learn maps when there was actual magic to be studied. “You’re too young to do much actual magic, but you’re not too young to learn about the world around you. Once you leave here, you’ll need to know where to go and what areas of Santika are safe.”

And thus Harry, with the help of Auntie Eustice, found every map in the library and every book on the subject of Santika and studied them intensely. He learned all about the different regions of Santika, which was a huge continent as it turned out. Misty Springs was located in the southwest of Santika, nestled in a mountain range that crossed from one western coastline to another in the south. The jungle ran all the way to the sea in the south. To the north, beyond the mountains, were plains that were far more arid, and to the east there were several smaller mountain ranges that housed climates that were mostly temperate with a few subtropical areas further south. All throughout these regions were cities and little towns and rivers and lakes and Lily made Harry memorize all of them. Even the rivers that ran in the far north, where it was always cold and very few people lived.

To the far south, beyond the Clear Sea, was another continent that remained largely unexplored. This was due to the fact that the continent for a large part was comprised of an area called the Grim Gorges and in it, Harry learned, lived a creature known as a barok.

It was, the books all mentioned, the most dangerous creature found anywhere in Santika. The one drawing that was provided was rather unclear but the description was not. Large, with silver teeth, four eyes, a spiked tail, an armoured back and it had the ability to walk straight up stone walls. Most importantly, it was exceedingly difficult to kill and mostly unaffected by magic, and it was a dangerous and territorial carnivore and any who crossed its path had a very difficult time getting out of there alive.

One Warlord some centuries ago had offered a king’s ransom for the head of a barok. Many warriors and other fools had set out to claim that prize but none had ever managed it. Eventually the warlord himself had travelled to the Grim Gorges, never to be seen again.

Even the name barok meant ‘death with legs’ in Santireen.

When Harry shared the discovery of this creature with Rindyll later that day, Rindyll got a thoughtful frown on her face. “I wish a barok would come and eat Bram and Rylan and Karakas and all the other evil men here.”

Harry considered that idea for a moment as they sat in the smallest courtyard, the trees around them still dripping water everywhere after the most recent rainstorm. “Yeah, that would be awesome, but I doubt a barok would just show up out of the blue one day.”

“You could catch one,” Rindyll suggested with a hopeful shine in her blue eyes. “With magic.”

“They’re resistant to magic, so I don’t know if I could,” Harry explained.

“Then you have to invent magic that can affect it,” Rindyll told him as though it was a done deal already.

“Huh.” Harry thought perhaps his friend had a promising idea there. If he could ever find a way to tame a barok then he’d be unstoppable.

Next on the list of important things to learn was how the collars they all wore worked. Before, Harry had barely noticed it, but now he saw that every single person, young and old, student and staff, that lived in the school wore a collar, save for Karakas.

Harry consulted Valdis on the workings of the collars, since she seemed very knowledgeable about these kinds of things and more importantly, she supported Harry’s quest for freedom and thus she wouldn’t tell anyone Harry was asking questions he shouldn’t.

“So many people have tried to get the collars off,” Valdis told him while they were cleaning one of the classrooms together as their daily assigned chore. “But none have managed it. As far as I know they’re tied to Karakas himself.”

“How are they tied to him?” Harry asked, sweeping the floor with a broom that was still a little too big for him.

“They’re tied to his lifeforce. As long as Karakas lives, the collars stay on.” Valdis shrugged, as if this was all old news to her. “And don’t bother trying to kill him. He controls the collar and so you can never act against him in aggression, with or without magic. In fact, you can only perform magic on people with Karakas’ approval.”

Well, that was a bit of a setback and for the umpteenth time Harry wondered why on earth he’d landed in this horrible world. “I don’t get why the genie would send me here just to become a slave.”

“The what sent you here?” Valdis looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“The genie. The night I disappeared from the Dursleys’ house, I wished for a genie to take me away from there.”

Valdis laughed, but it was a harsh and bitter sound. “You little moron. There was no genie. Karakas sends out magic to different worlds, looking for magical children without parents so they won’t be missed. Karakas brought you here, there was no genie.”

Harry stood very still, broom forgotten in his hand. For years and years he’d been convinced that he himself had wished to come here, but now it turned out that he’d had very little to do with it.

It had been Karakas all along.

Next on his to-study list was to learn how to make a soul-summoning amulet for himself, just in case he lost the one he had. As it turned out, it was necromancy, not that this was a surprise at this point, but it was also very difficult magic.

Harry found the right book with the help of Auntie Eustice, but once he started reading it he barely understood a word. It was all gibberish to him.

“Just let us read it for now, sweetheart,” his mum said as she hovered behind him, Auntie Eustice doing the same. And so Harry tried to understand how to make an amulet, but mostly he just turned the pages so the adults could memorize what he had to do.

“A pint of blood, some grave dust and a murder, that doesn’t seem too complicated,” Auntie Eustice said with a small chuckle after they’d finished reading the book. His mum sighed and shook her head and Harry wondered if Auntie Eustice had been joking or not about the murder. He was too afraid to ask.

Meanwhile his parents and grandparents taught him lots and lots of theory about wizarding magic, like charms and transfiguration and defensive magic.

“You have that kind of magic inside of you, Harry,” his mum said when Harry wondered why he had to learn all of that. “All we need to find is a focus that can help you cast it. In the wizarding world we use wands, but we don’t have those here.”

“Like the staff Karakas uses?” Harry said, wondering where he could get such a staff.

“The staff is used to cast the magic from this world. I suggest using a different focus for wizarding magic, something smaller that’s easier to hide,” his dad suggested, and ever since that moment Harry went in search of a focus he could use.

One by one, he nicked crystals and gemstones from the classrooms, to try them and he always put them back when they didn’t work. Harry held the stones in his hand, pointed a finger and said, “Lumos.” His parents assured him that was a spell even a nine-year-old could do.

For the longest time none of the objects Harry tried worked, but eventually he found one that did. A beautiful round midnight opal, black but with an iridescent sheen. It fit comfortably in Harry’s palm and when Harry held it and cast the spell, a small, wavering beam of light actually appeared from between his fingers.

“Ha!” Harry cried out, jumping up from where he was sitting in a shadowy corner of an empty classroom. “I can do magic!” And Harry called all his family member together to show them what he’d accomplished.

He received many compliments and his cheeks were glowing with happiness by the time Fleamont cleared his throat.

“I know that Harry is almost ten and that it’s custom to wait until the child is eleven to start their magical education, but I suggest we move that up a year,” Fleamont said with a solemn look around the gathered adults. “We teach him all the most useful spells first, no matter the official Hogwarts curriculum. No changing buttons into beetles.”

“Agreed,” Patroclus said at once. “I can take defensive spells. I’ll also teach him some combat moves.”

“I’ll take charms,” Dorea said and no one objected to that.

“I can do transfiguration,” James offered.

Charlus raised a hand. “Curses and curse-breaking.”

“He will learn enchanting from me, naturally,” Auntie Eustice chimed in.

“I’ll teach him household spells,” Euphemia suggested and when Henry snorted at that, she narrowed her eyes at him. “You never know when they come in handy. Being able to keep your surroundings clean with some quick spells goes a long way in preventing lots of diseases, you lout.”

“I want to learn it all,” Harry quickly said, because he did want to learn every shred of magic he could.

“I’m going to teach him a few rare curses. For special occasions,” Charis said with a innocent little smile. “He’s also progressing nicely with occlumency and soon I’ll be able to start him on legilimency.”

Henry gestured to his wife Bernadine. “We’ll take runes and warding, but I suggest we wait a little with that until he has a good, solid foundation of wizarding magic.”

Lily nodded. “We’ll figure the rest out as we go along. There are lots of things I want to teach him, like apparition and how to make portkeys, and some healing and other practical things.”

Harry smiled up at his family, incredibly happy they were all so eager to share their knowledge with him.

“Keep that gem safe,” his dad said, while pointing at the opal in Harry’s hand. “And find some replacements just in case you lose it.”

“I do think that one of the first charms he should learn is the undetectable expansion charm,” Dorea said as she gestured at the satchel hanging from Harry’s belt. They weren’t allowed to mess with their uniforms but everyone was allowed to carry a small satchel to keep a few personal things in. They lived in a very hot and humid climate, so everyone carried around at least one handkerchief to wipe away sweat every once in a while.

And that is how Harry learned that you could turn a very small satchel into a very big storage space. It took him a while to master the charm, but once he did a whole new world opened up for him, namely the world of contraband.

From now on he had places to hide things he wanted to keep to himself or that he wasn’t allowed to have.

One thing bothered Harry as time moved on and they all got older. So one day when he found himself alone with Valdis in their bedroom, Harry decided to just ask her.

“Do you know when you’ll be sold?” Harry had noticed that the older students, once they reached the age of eighteen or nineteen, disappeared one by one. But Valdis, who was at least twenty at this point was still there, much to Harry’s relief.

“Hopefully, never,” Valdis told him and then smiled while she winked at him. “Karakas seems to like the way I suck his cock enough to keep me around.”

Harry blinked. That was certainly not the answer he was expecting.

Valdis laughed at his expression of shock. “Karakas prefers women and he likes them at least old enough to look like women, so I’m taking advantage of that. I’ve applied to become a healer, be Genka’s apprentice and Karakas agreed. For a price. It’s better than being sold off to some Warlord.”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry eventually agreed once the shock wore off. Rindyll still was sent on ‘errands’ once a month or so, and Harry was still protected by Karakas, but apparently Valdis had been busy as well finding a way to control her own life as much as she could. Well, Harry figured, good for her. He certainly enjoyed having her around and considered her a good friend at this point.

And so life carried on, and Harry spent most of his time learning and practicing and preparing himself in every way his family thought he should be prepared. Nothing much happened that affected Harry personally. There were a few more challengers for Bram’s position, but those battles mostly took place outside of the city. One year, after a particularly wet spring, there was a landslide that took out a third of Shit Creek. Lots of people died, but since they were the poor living in slums no one really cared in the end. Bram had workers clear the area of debris and bodies and commanded new sturdy homes be built there, with strong retaining walls in between them to prevent more of such disasters.

Karakas filled his basement with many of the unwanted corpses and that year Harry got to work with some of them for the first time. They used the dead to practice healing techniques and curses and Harry got private lesson on how to use human bodies in necromancy. Not the most pleasant of subjects, but Harry applied himself because he knew he had to learn it, no matter how distasteful he found it to place body parts in runic circles to power them.

Meanwhile Karakas furthered Harry’s education in necromancy and Harry learned about the deathlands. It was the place between life and death that only necromancers could tread. In fact, one could only become a true necromancer if one had walked the deathlands, but there were many dangers associated with doing just that. One could get lost and find themselves forever stuck between the living and the dead, never able to move on to the afterlife. Or one could run into one of the things that lived there. Demons of sorts that preyed on human souls.

Yeah, Harry decided that visiting the deathlands could wait for a while. He wanted to be a necromancer, he really did, but he was also still young and so he had plenty of time.

One time, when Harry was eleven, almost twelve, he found Karakas utterly drunk, an empty bottle of boksala by his side, when it was time for their twice-weekly private lesson in Karakas’ office.

“Ah, my little diamond,” Karakas slurred as he spotted Harry. “C’mere.”

Harry sat down in his usual spot opposite his teacher and waited patiently for him to speak.

“He’s done it again, that devil,” Karakas spat, his eyes bloodshot and distant.

“Who?” Harry asked, realizing he had a unique opportunity to question Karakas, ask him things he normally wouldn’t dare.

“Rylan. Ruined little Silmon, brought him back dead, that poor thing.” Karakas seemed genuinely upset by this as he wiped a hand over his eyes.

“Then why do you do it?” Harry asked, unable to believe he could ask his teacher these questions without being scolded or punished. “Why turn your students into child prostitutes?”

“Is the only way we’re allowed to be here.” Karakas swallowed a few times. “I was a student of magic when being a sorcerer still got you killed if you were discovered. Warlords didn’t like magical folk that could do them in with a few spells or curses. Warlords don’t like what they can’t control.”

“Ah,” Harry said with a sage nod. “So you found a way for the Warlords to control us.”

“You get it!” Karakas pointed a trembling finger at Harry. “Well done, little diamond. Yes, now the Warlords could use the sorcerers and they allowed them to live. But they wanted to control every part of them. I don’t think Bram even likes fucking little kids, but he sure likes to stick it in a few of my girls every now and then. And Rylan is a beast, a monster, simple as that. And for most of the rest of them it’s a matter of prestige, I think. Look, I fucked a little magical brat, how fucking awesome am I, that sort of thing.”

“So Bram demands that you whore us out?”

“Yeah, and I have to go along or we’ll go back to being hunted.” Karakas wiped a hand across his eyes again.

Harry nodded. That made sense. It wasn’t right and Harry hated Karakas for it, but at least now he understood why the man did what he did. “And why do you take us from other worlds?”

“Not enough magic users left here in Santika,” Karakas said with a sad little sigh. “Most of us were killed over the years. This way we get new blood and new magic.” Karakas closed his eyes, leaned his head back and in moments he was asleep.

Harry got up quietly and left, closing the door without a sound. That was some information he hadn’t known before. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but he now at least understood the bigger picture. It all came down to Bram and the other Warlords in the end. They were the ones who had hunted people with magic and now they were the ones that demanded total control.

Well, it looked like Harry had a few more names to add to his to-do list. Rylan no longer was the only person Harry wanted to do away with permanently.

Harry had also volunteered to run errands out in the city for Karakas, because as Charlus had pointed out at some point, Harry was a sheltered little swot who knew nothing about the real world. And even though Harry had felt a bit affronted about being called out like that, he also knew that Charlus was right.

His family was teaching him as much as they could, but even with practicing all the spells and charms and transfigurations, Harry was still severely limited by the simple fact that he couldn’t use any of the magic in real situations. He’d barely left the school ever since arriving there. And now, even with running errands in the city from time to time, Harry felt that he was visiting an alien world, not the city he actually lived in.

Yeah, Charlus was right. Harry was a sheltered little swot, but the problem was that they couldn’t change much about that thus far.

Harry had tried opening Rindyll’s collar with his opal one time, when they were practicing spells together that they’d learned in the classroom. And it was a good thing, too, because the moment Harry used an unlocking charm on Rindyll’s collar, Karakas was somehow notified and minutes later he stood before them, demanding to know what they’d done. Harry was able to play it off as accidentally having aimed a spell wrong, but Karakas narrowed his eyes at him and warned him to never aim spells wrong again like that or the consequences would be severe. Harry hadn’t dared mess with the collars again since then.

When Harry turned twelve they changed bedrooms. Girls got their own rooms, and so did the boys. He missed sleeping in the same room as Rindyll, but he understood it was more appropriate to split up the boys and girls as they got older. Harry got some new roommates, some a year or so older and some a bit younger, but they all got along eventually after a few immature attempts at establishing some kind of pecking order.

Slowly but surely, Harry grew up and got older. He became quite proficient at all the magic his family was teaching him. He learned all sorts of handy spells, like summoning charms, defensive shields, disarming charms, and even the Patronus charm, though that one was a difficult one and took him almost a whole year to master.

Harry wasn’t sure at first why he should learn such a difficult spell when it was meant to defend against dementors, which didn’t exist in Santika as far as Harry knew, but his mother insisted. “You never know what other creatures you might be able to ward off with it when other magic doesn’t work. Besides, you can use it to send messages very quickly over long distances.” And his mother taught him to do just that.

His Patronus was a stag, much to the everlasting pride of his father. “Now we should get you started on becoming an Animagus.” Which turned out to be even more complicated than the Patronus charm but Harry trudged on, putting all the effort into it that he could spare, given that his to-learn list was never empty.

He also progressed really well in the magic native to Santika and even in necromancy he was doing better and better. He’d been focussing on reanimating dead bodies and so far he’d managed to get it to work on a mouse and one of the little colourful birds that nested in the trees around the school. He’d tried a cat, but that hadn’t really worked just yet. He’d only made the tail and legs twitch but nothing much else. It was very draining magic, and Harry always went to bed early after he’d reanimated something.

Once Rindyll turned fourteen, she got her own room of four and five year olds to look after, just like Valdis had done with them once upon a time. Harry didn’t get any kids to mind, and when he asked Valdis about it, who’d become a healer in her own right by then, she’d laughed and told him Karakas wouldn’t trust any boys not to diddle the little kiddies so they weren’t allowed to sleep in the same room as them.

Harry thought that was rather rich coming from a guy who pimped out little kids to keep the peace.

And then Harry turned fifteen and they still hadn’t figured out a way to escape and Harry grew increasingly more frustrated about being trapped in the school.

Key was the collar, that much Harry knew. But he also knew he couldn’t experiment on getting it off without Karakas knowing.

“We could try drugging his tea,” Dorea suggested once Harry threw his frustrations in front of his family. “Some sleeping potion. Then you’d have a couple of hours or so to try a few things.”

Harry got his hands on some sleeping potion, thanks to Valdis, and then used the disillusionment charm he’d learned from Patroclus to hide himself as he snuck inside the kitchen to spike Karakas’ evening pot of herbal tea, but the moment he tried to tip the potion in the pot something stayed his hand.

Fucking hell. The magic of the collar wouldn’t even let him douse the man with a sleeping potion, registering it as an act of aggression. And no one else at the school could do it either because everyone wore those fucking collars.

Yeah, Harry really was growing ever more frustrated with being unable to actually do something about the situation. All he did was learn and learn, and listen to his family’s reports about all the things they learned around the school and the city and from inside Bram’s castle.

There was another challenger on the horizon, that was the news of the day. And it was nothing that Harry hadn’t already heard before over the years. Bram was a warlord. There were always challengers on the horizon.

Harry kicked a rock as he walked out the gates of the school to drop off an order at the distillery for more cases of boksala. He’d noticed Karakas had started drinking more and more over the years. Above him a few monkeys swung from the trees, screeching at each other. Harry watched them for a moment, amazed how they could hold on to the branches with their little hands…

Wait a minute. Monkeys had incredibly dexterous hands and could do just about anything that a human hand could do.

Like dump a small bottle of sleeping potion in a pot of tea.

If Harry reanimated a monkey, could he use it to do exactly that without the collar stopping him?

Well, there was only one way to find out. From that moment on, Harry doubled his efforts in reanimating a cat properly. The next stage after that was a dog, and then he could try a monkey probably. The more intelligent the animal, the more power it took to reanimate them.

Mood much improved and chest glowing with hope, Harry continued his journey through the city with a renewed spring in his step.

But before Harry ever got to reanimate a monkey, only barely after he’d managed one mangy cat to sit up and purr, Patroclus came flying through the wall right during one of Harry’s warding lessons where all the students were drawing a large runic circle together.

“Harry, call the family now!” Patroclus all but yelled, and Harry knew it had to be serious indeed if his great-grandfather lost his calm like that.

Harry got up and held his stomach, swallowing a few times, pretending to feel sick. “Vinka,” Harry said, already shuffling to the door. “I don’t feel so good. I need the latrine.”

Vinka waved him off without even looking at him as she walked around the room to inspect the students’ work. That was one of the advantages of being a good, hard-working student. The teachers let you get away with some things here and there as long as you didn’t overdo it.

Harry rushed towards the nearest empty room he could find, summoning all his family to him as he went. By the time they found a place to meet in the form of an empty store room filled with boks and sacks of dried fruit and nuts, Harry’s family were all there.

“Bram is dead,” Patroclus said, and immediately there were gasps and mutterings from everyone. “Aye, Rylan did him in with poison. He’s spinning it as an assassination from that new challenger, Rolf the Wretched, but he did it. I saw him do it, that cowardly scum.”

Harry’s whole body swayed as his ears started ringing. “Is Rylan in charge now?” he barely managed to ask, his voice cracking.

“Aye, that he is, lad.” Patroclus gave Harry a look that could only be described as pitying. “Rylan has sent a message to summon Karakas to the castle and he’s instructing him to bring you along.”

Harry lost all the feeling in his legs and sank to the floor while his chest tightened with an immediate sense of panic. Over the years Harry had hoped that Rylan might have forgotten about him, but obviously he hadn’t. Bram had been a buffer, supporting Karakas in keeping Harry away from that monster, but now that Bram was gone nothing stopped Rylan from doing whatever he wanted with Harry.

“I can curse him,” Harry said, though his voice quivered as he spoke. “I know magic, lots of magic.”

“You can’t, sweetheart,” his mother said as she crouched in front of him. “The collar won’t let you. Karakas won’t give you permission. He can’t risk you messing up the job and letting Rylan live. It would cost him his own life.”

“Besides, even if Karakas gave you permission, it would be a very bad idea to go up against Rylan with magic,” Patroclus said in a peculiar tone of voice that made Harry look up at him.

“Why? What can he do against my magic?” Harry fingered the opal he used as a focus.

“Because Rylan Bloodstone is a sorcerer,” Patroclus said while staring down at Harry with narrowed eyes, “and the kind of magic he uses is made up of blood and death, and you, sheltered little swot that you are don’t yet stand a chance against him.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

When Barty put Harry Potter’s name in the Goblet of Fire, Voldemort didn’t expect much to come of it. As far as Voldemort was concerned, Potter was dead, burned to a crisp in the house of his muggle kin. All the official reports came to this conclusion and Voldemort didn’t have any reason to think otherwise.

And yet…they’d never found the boy’s body, and that bothered Voldemort. Potter’s three relatives had left behind blackened corpses, according to the reports, so why hadn’t Potter? On top of that, Voldemort heard from several sources that Dumbledore also didn’t seem convinced that Potter had perished and was still keeping an eye out for the boy at the very least.

Then there was the prophecy to consider, even though Voldemort as of yet didn’t know what it said aside from the first line. But Dumbledore certainly had put weight behind it, urging the Potters to hide themselves away to protect the potential prophecy child.

Of course, that hadn’t worked out so very well for them in the end, but neither had it for Voldemort, and all because the killing curse bounced off the boy as though it had suddenly been transfigured into a rubber ball.

No, all things considered, Voldemort couldn’t dismiss the remote possibility that Potter was still alive somewhere in some capacity, no matter how convincing the reports of his death were. And thus he’d come up with a plan, thanks mostly to Barty, to infiltrate Hogwarts and keep a very close eye on Dumbledore to see what the old man was up to when it came to finding Harry Potter.

It was Barty’s idea to impersonate Alastor Moody. A risky gamble, because impersonating anyone for a long stretch of time was exhausting for many reasons, and it also increased the risk of being discovered. The longer one spent time around others, the more chances one had of making mistakes and being found out. But Barty had known Moody since he was a child, had grown up around the man since his father worked with him in a few capacities at the Ministry, and his mother had been Moody’s second cousin once removed. Therefore Moody had been a regular guest in the Crouch household and Barty had spent a lifetime watching the man and learning his behaviours.

If anyone could impersonate Alastor Moody right under Dumbledore’s nose and get away with it, it would be Barty Crouch Jr.

And then one night in September a week after Hogwarts had started, Barty had called him on the communication mirrors they used to keep in touch, and suggested smuggling Potter’s name into the Goblet of Fire. Barty reasoned that if someone was keeping the boy hidden away, as some of the more interesting conspiracy theories surrounding the boy suggested was the case, then the magic of this ancient goblet would force Potter out of hiding, whether he liked it or not. Voldemort had believed this an exceptionally clever plan and given Barty permission to execute it, even if he doubted anything would come of it.

Barty had managed the job thanks to an invisibility cloak and several strong confundus charms, and now was the day that the names of the champions would be selected. Voldemort reasoned if anything out of the ordinary happened, Barty would call him on the mirror, but otherwise he put it out of his mind and focused on more important matters.

Ever since Voldemort had returned he found himself faced with many difficult choices. When he’d stolen the Philosopher’s Stone right out of Hogwarts while riding on the back of Quirrell’s head, he’d still been of a mind to pick up the war where he’d left it off once he got his body back. He had realized at the last moment that perhaps he shouldn’t give the game away so soon that it was Voldemort who had taken the stone instead of just an ambitious, lone teacher in the form of Quirrell, and thus he’d let the three children who’d so valiantly tried to stop him live. He’d knocked them around a little, to make sure they understood that what they’d done was very foolish indeed, but he’d left them to be discovered by whomever eventually realized they were missing, convinced this would throw Dumbledore off his scent. After all, Voldemort was known for killing anyone who stood in his way.

Voldemort had then moved to his father’s mansion, which he’d put in his own name right after he’d finished Hogwarts since he was the legal heir of the Riddle family. He just never registered the mansion at the ministry as being a magical dwelling and he paid the muggle caretaker a continuous salary for the upkeep of the mansion out of his family’s vast wealth, even when Voldemort himself spent very little time there over the years.

While Voldemort had a real safehouse, a place no one knew about, not even his closest followers, and which was protected by every ward imaginable, he did not want to risk its discovery by bringing the Philosopher’s Stone there. After all, Voldemort knew very little about the Philosopher’s Stone, outside the general properties everyone had heard about. Any metal to gold, the elixir of life, that sort of thing. But Voldemort had no idea if the Flamels were capable of tracking their creation in some way.

And the last thing Voldemort wanted to do was provoke the Flamels more than he already had and meet them in a head on confrontation.

Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel were well over 600 years old. Voldemort did not want to test their knowledge and experience in duelling, especially when he himself was but a wraith stuck to the back of a man’s head.

And thus he had holed up in his father’s mansion for the time being, so that he could experiment with the stone as much as needed, but could also abandon it at the drop of a hat if need be. If the Flamels discovered the mansion it would be no real loss for Voldemort since his relationship to the Riddles was no great secret in certain circles. Dumbledore already know all about it, after all.

But no Flamels came breaking down his door as Voldemort, through an increasingly weakened Quirrell, spent months and months experimenting with the stone.

First getting it to give up the Elixir of Life had been challenging to say the least. While Voldemort was a very talented wizard who had studied many subjects in depth, he’d never studied alchemy beyond the basics. And getting the stone to give up its secrets required an alchemy mastery, which Voldemort had to scramble to get using second-hand books Quirrell was able to pick up in Knockturn Alley using various disguises.

Finally, by the time Voldemort got the stone to give up its precious elixir and he could now start building a ritual that would use it in his resurrection, one of his horcruxes walked through the door.

Literally walked, using a brand-new flesh and bone body.

Voldemort had been surprised, to say the least, to see his sixteen-year-old-self gazing up at him with clear judgement in his eyes. Tom Riddle wasn’t impressed with what he was seeing, his older version stuck on the back of some meaningless wizard’s head, barely hanging on to life. But having part of himself there, in a ready to use body, changed things.

They managed to merge Voldemort’s wraith into Tom Riddle’s body, melding the two soul pieces back together as one and that had been rather an eye-opener for Voldemort. Losing so much of his soul had changed him over the years, as it turned out, and not for the better. He’d become increasingly paranoid and violent and irate, and he’d lost focus on all the things he’d wanted to accomplish and instead had become obsessed with trivial matters. Gaining half of his soul back overnight certainly gave him a new perspective on pretty much everything.

Using the Elixir of Life in the ritual had also had the benefit of keeping Voldemort’s new visage human, though adding an older soul to the younger body had aged the body up a good twenty years, not that this was a problem. Looking like a mature Tom Riddle, a man approaching forty, certainly helped him blend in whenever he stepped out the door, so Voldemort didn’t see any problems with it.

Quirrell had barely survived the ritual of extracting Voldemort, and he probably would have perished if not for the elixir, which healed him. Voldemort then officially marked Quirrell, to gain magical control over him. Voldemort may have gained a new perspective on life, but he still wasn’t stupid. He wanted his followers tied to him so he could control them as needed, simple as that.

Quirrell was beyond grateful that his life had been spared and let Voldemort use his dark mark to search out his other followers, to find out who was still out there. That’s how Voldemort realized Barty was still alive and after snooping around he found him hidden away in his father’s house. A little breaking and entering later and Barty was freed and could recover from being held under the imperius curse for so long. Voldemort also discovered Wormtail was still alive, but he was hiding out in Hogwarts as Voldemort realized when he tracked him down and this made Voldemort question the man’s loyalties. Yes, hiding out as a rat in a large castle was probably a clever way to stay out of enemy hands, but how on earth didn’t Dumbledore realize there was an Animagus hiding in the castle? Voldemort knew the wards of Hogwarts were capable of revealing such things to the headmaster, so why hadn’t Dumbledore picked up on it? Perhaps he had, but chose to ignore it for whatever reason, and that was exactly the reason Voldemort hadn’t summoned Wormtail just yet. He couldn’t risk Wormtail having struck some sort of deal with Dumbledore to spare his life, and the last thing Voldemort wanted was for Dumbledore to get any kind of confirmation that Voldemort had regained a body and was back to full strength.

No, it was imperative that Voldemort stay hidden while rebuilding his army and continue his plans for domination of the wizarding world.

And therein lay the problem. Ever since regaining half of his soul, Voldemort wasn’t quite sure anymore what he wanted to do. Yes, he still wanted to rule the wizarding world and shake it up a little, do away with all those restrictive laws concerning dark magic and rituals and such, but Voldemort realized that perhaps open warfare wasn’t the way to go about accomplishing that. It had cost far to many lives on both sides in the end. So Voldemort needed a new plan but that took some time to put together.

So in the meantime Barty got to spy on Dumbledore while Voldemort figured out what he wanted out of his life now that he could live it properly again. Aside from world domination, because that was a given. It was also the reason Voldemort hadn’t yet called his followers to him. He honestly wasn’t sure yet what to say to them, how to present his current wishes and ambitions. And so for the time being Voldemort focussed on catching up with all the news, learning any new spells that had been invented over the last decade, further investigate the workings of the Philosopher’s Stone and figure out in what capacity he wanted to rule the world. The rest would come later, after they finally figured out what had happened to Harry Potter.

That faithful day, Voldemort had a simple dinner, prepared by Quirrell who had some talent with cooking spells, and afterward Voldemort decided to call it an early night, have a hot bath and then spent an hour or two reading in bed before finally succumbing to sleep. Quirrell had proven most useful, doing household chores and running errands while disguised, since he had been officially charged with the theft of the Philosopher’s Stone and most of the wizarding world would be on the lookout for him.

But before Voldemort could make it to his bathroom, the wards around the mansion flared up, indicating a known visitor. Voldemort had a good idea who it would be, and he remained in the sitting room while Quirrell answered the door like the good servant he was.

Barty came clunking into the room, still wearing Moody’s body. “Apologies, my Lord, but I had no time to wait for the potion to wear off. I’ve got a memory you’ll want to see right away.”

Voldemort gestured at Barty to follow him to his office, where he kept the small pensieve he’d retrieved from his safehouse. He still didn’t trust to bring the Philosopher’s Stone there, so he’d simply collected a few useful items from his home and put them in the mansion for the time being.

As Voldemort and Barty gathered around the pensieve that stood on a wooden pedestal in the corner of the office, Barty put the tip of his wand against his temple and quickly pulled out a silvery strand which he dumped into the pensieve without any pause.

“Enjoy, my Lord,” Barty said, Moody’s scarred face creasing up in obvious humour.

Voldemort immediately lowered his face to the pensieve and before long he found himself standing behind Barty at the teacher’s table in Hogwarts’ great hall while Dumbledore read out the names of the tournament champions.

When Harry Potter’s name was called, things suddenly got interesting. Very interesting.

Voldemort watched with bated breath as a man appeared, with a large bird and some sort of beast by his side. Dumbledore all but fell over himself once he realized Harry Potter had returned and Voldemort followed the procession through Hogwarts and watched quietly as Potter answered some questions in Dumbledore’s office before everyone called it a night.

“Well,” Voldemort said, once he straightened himself up as he pulled out of the pensieve. “That certainly is a surprise.”

Barty laughed, a particularly harsh sound coming from Moody’s throat. “My Lord, if that man is a light wizard, I’ll eat Moody’s peg leg.”

Chuckling, Voldemort gestured for Barty to sit down in front of his desk while Voldemort slowly sank down in his comfortable chair behind it. “Yes, the magic Potter used certainly didn’t feel light. Nor did he seem particularly thrilled to be back in our world.”

Barty’s eyes widened, as much as they could around the fake one Moody used. “Imagine, being pulled into a different world as a child. I wonder what that world was like, and what sort of magic Potter got to learn there. Do you think perhaps he’d be willing to share his knowledge?”

“Ravenclaw,” Voldemort said, making it sound like a fond accusation. “But I agree with you that the idea of alternate worlds, of whole new dimensions is an intriguing one. But also a slightly worrying one, considering that one of our magical children got stolen away like that. Who is to say they won’t do that again, or perhaps they have done it many times before without us noticing.”

Barty nodded with a thoughtful frown. “A child goes missing…no one would suspect it was a kidnapping across worlds.”

“Barty,” Voldemort said, sitting up a little and giving his follower a serious look. “I want you to get close to Potter. Offer to guide him, teach him, play it off as wanting to be sure people won’t end up kidnapped again.”

“Oh yeah, I can make that work,” Barty said with full confidence.

“And then find out where his loyalties lie, what sort of magic he’s learned and how he feels about the situation in the wizarding world.”

“Of course, my Lord. I’ll get to the bottom of everything concerning Harry Potter.”

“Good man.” Voldemort waved Barty off, who gave him a short bow before clunking out of Voldemort’s office.

Well, well, would wonders never cease. Harry Potter was alive, a grown man, possessed knowledge of unknown types of magic and might very well be a dark wizard. Voldemort smiled as he realized his life had just become infinitely more entertaining.

ooooooo

The first thing Severus found lying on his dining table the next morning was a note from Minerva, instructing him to write down a detailed history of the wizarding war with Voldemort, ending with the Potters’ murders. Severus snorted, downed a hangover cure, and sent a note back to Minerva that he’d simply direct Potter to the history section of the school library where the man would be able to find many works detailing the war and that way Severus wouldn’t have to waste hours on writing down information that was already publicly available.

Then he had a simple breakfast in his room of oatmeal and coffee so black it made the Dark Lord seem like an apostle of the light. Severus refused to set foot in the great hall that morning and be subjected to a few hundred children all screeching about Potter’s spawn’s unexpected return.

Severus got dressed in his usual attire, ignored Minerva’s new note insisting he write down something for Potter from a more personal perspective instead of subjecting the poor boy to those impersonal history texts, and left his quarters in search of the wayward man.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to look long or far, and he found Potter standing in the entrance hall, practically cornered by Moody who was probably trying to subject the man to a strip search at the very least.

“I see your point,” Potter said to Moody, just as Severus stepped up to them. “But I assure you the ritual used to summon children across dimensions has been destroyed.”

“Well, that’s good to hear, laddie, but I would still appreciate a more in depth talk about any more potential security concerns.” Moody’s fake eye briefly spun in its socket to focus on Severus, but before long it settled back on Potter. Well, apparently Severus wasn’t considered much of a threat anymore to the crazed Auror now that a mystery man had fallen into their school from an entirely different world. Severus supposed that having to put up with Potter’s spawn might actually have an upside after all. Would wonders never cease?

“I would be happy to have a meeting with you at a later date. But for now my escort has arrived to accompany me to the bank.” Potter gave Severus a brief nod, which Severus staunchly ignored.

“Then come find me when you’re back in the castle.” And with that, Moody limped away in the direction of the great hall. A whole gaggle of children had gathered on the periphery of the entrance hall, kept back probably by the luminous stares of Potter’s beast. Whispers echoed around them and before Severus could hurry Potter out of the castle, one brave student came forward, a copy of the Daily Prophet clutched firmly in her hand.

It was Hermione Granger. Severus doubted anyone would be surprised by this, seeing as Granger seemed to have made sticking her nose in other people’s business into an artform.

“Mr Potter,” Granger said, taking a few very cautious steps towards Potter’s spawn. Potter’s beast shifted positions where it sat beside the man but made no sound. Still, Granger stopped approaching at once. Smart girl.

“Call me Harry,” Potter said, because naturally he was the type to do away with any form of formal boundaries between students and the adult staff around them.

Granger’s smile was huge. “Okay, Harry. Hi, I’m Hermione Granger. Is it true you’ve been stuck in a different world altogether?” As though it were a piece of evidence, Granger raised the paper in her hand and held it up to Potter’s face. Big black letters on the front page announced Potter’s return, though how they’d gotten the information about Potters whereabouts was anyone’s guess. Either it was the portraits in Dumbledore’s office or Moody had contacted the ministry with Potter’s story as soon as their meeting ended the previous night.

“Yes, it is true. I attended a school for sorcerers there in my younger years.” Potter seemed perfectly happy and willing to indulge the riffraff around him, but Severus certainly wasn’t.

Granger perked up. “A school? What subjects did they teach there?”

“We must be off,” Severus interrupted without apology. “Potter, this way.” And without waiting on either one of them, Severus swept out of the entrance hall and onto the castle grounds. The weather was crisp in early November and Severus pulled the collar of his cloak closed. Potter was indeed not far behind him, but he did halt as soon as he made it to the path leading off school grounds.

“Keket,” Potter said while giving the beast beside him a small stroke across its massive head. “Why don’t you go find a location for our home in there.” Potter gestured towards the Forbidden Forest in the distance. “And I’m sure you’ll be able to find something to eat in there as well.”

“The unicorns are off-limits,” Severus said before he could stop himself, but he would be damned if Potter’s beast decimated their unicorn herds. Severus needed them for potions. “And the centaurs will not go down without a very vicious fight. But there are giant spiders in there you can eat, as many as you like.” All the while that Severus was talking the beast had appeared the listen to him very carefully, its head tilted, and the moment Severus was done it released an excited clicking sound that ended in a rumble before it loped off towards the tree line.

“I’m glad there is something in there for her to eat. She prefers to hunt instead of accepting dead meat, I’m afraid.” Potter gazed after the beast for a few moments before falling into step with Severus. He was missing his staff and his bird, but he was wearing his ridiculous fur cloak, as though he were some medieval king. Then again, this was Potter’s spawn. It was expected the man was conceited at the very least.

Severus nodded in reply but held his tongue, not in the mood to make small-talk with Potter. He was here to do Albus’ bidding and he could be polite up to a point, but he wasn’t interested in more than that. Well, perhaps he also appreciated the opportunity to satiate his own curiosity when it came to this mystery man.

For example, Potter spoke with a strange accent. It was faint and unplaceable, but it was there. That suggested that Potter perhaps hadn’t spoken English a lot of the time he was in the other world. In fact, it made sense that the dominant language in the other world hadn’t been English at all. So how did Potter still speak it so well, and even claimed to know how to read and write in it when he’d been kidnapped when he was only four and hadn’t attended any formal schools yet?

Severus decided to put this little discovery to the test. “Your English is very good for someone who hasn’t spoken it in so long.”

Potter blinked while glancing at Severus and then his lips curled up in the tiniest smile, as though he was terribly amused by Severus’ question. “The dominant language we spoke was Santireen, yes, but I was not the only English speaker there. Others taught me to read and write and we kept our native language alive by speaking in it while in private.”

Severus could detect no lie from the way Potter spoke and it did make sense that more children who spoke English might have ended up in that place.

“How will we travel to the bank?” Potter asked when Severus didn’t say anything else.

“Apparition.”

“Ah. Am I to assume it resembles teleportation?” Potter asked with a slight frown that made him almost look worried.

Severus kept his face straight while he was smirking on the inside. It seemed Potter wasn’t much of a brave Gryffindor after all. James Potter must be rolling in his grave. And just like that, Severus’ whole day was already made and it wasn’t even nine yet. “It resembles teleportation, yes. I will apparate you. Did you not have any kind of magical transportation in your previous world?”

“Oh, we did,” Potter said with a smile that was both fond and distant. “Mostly we travelled through portals, but they were quite time-consuming to set up with runic circles. A great option though for transporting larger groups of people. We also used teleportation, which was quicker than a portal, but also several times more uncomfortable.”

Severus nodded in understanding, unable to supress his curiosity about those portals. He refused to ask Potter any questions, though. The sooner he was rid of Potter’s spawn, the better. “I’ll be gentle, I promise,” Severus said in his smoothest tone, lying through his teeth. He was going to give Potter a ride to remember, naturally.

“Oh, don’t bother,” Potter said with a hoarse chuckle. “I don’t mind it rough once in a while.”

And just like that Severus was blinking and wondering if he’d just heard Potter right. When he glanced at Potter he received a wink in return and Severus’ good mood soured instantly. He was not going to flirt with Potter’s spawn, no matter he had Lily’s eyes. The man looked like Hagrid who’d been washed at too high a temperature and had shrunk in the process, and Severus was not at all attracted to facial hair of any kind and none of that even mattered, because this was James Potter’s brood and Severus would cut off his own cock and eat it before he ever even considered touching the man.

Of course, a few minutes of loaded silence later they arrived at the gates and once they stepped through them Severus was forced to place his hand on Potter’s furry shoulder right in the lion’s mane.

Had anyone even thought to delouse the man? Perhaps they should send him to Poppy at the first opportunity. Deworming him probably wouldn’t be a bad idea either.

Severus didn’t bother giving Potter a warning, but simply apparated them to the apparition point just inside Diagon Alley. Potter stayed on his feet, Severus had to at least give him that, and only shook his head a time or two before gawping at their new surroundings.

“Thanks for going easy on me,” Potter said with another wink, while Severus had done no such thing. “That wasn’t bad at all.” Potter started walking without even waiting for a silently fuming Severus. “What a quaint shopping street. Where is the bank exactly?”

“That large white building at the end of the street,” Severus said with a faint sneer. “With the huge letters spelling out Gringotts Bank on the side.”

“Ah! There it is indeed.” Potter’s grin was huge and infuriating. “Afterwards, I think I will visit some bookstores. I am aware I have lots of catching up to do.”

Severus wanted to deny the man as they marched through Diagon Alley, but couldn’t really come up with any reason to forbid Potter from doing some shopping. Besides, Albus would probably burst into bitter tears if Severus denied his precious Potter anything. “As long as you also visit Ollivander’s for a wand,” Severus finally said as they reached the bottom of Gringotts’ marble stairs. “Headmaster’s orders.”

Potter shrugged as he climbed the stairs. “I doubt I need a wand, but it won’t hurt to take a look at some of them.”

“That’s the spirit,” Severus mumbled as they reached the large, wooden doors and the security goblin gave them both a long, long look. Particularly Potter was subjected to some intense scrutiny, which he underwent without any comment. Finally the goblin waved them through.

“Just state your name at the counter and the goblins will do the rest,” Severus said while he moved over to the visitor chairs on the left and sat down. Hopefully this wouldn’t take hours and hours. It shouldn’t, unless this man was a very stupid imposter who thought he could fool the goblins. If that were the case, Severus would probably receive his head in a bag to take back to Dumbledore.

That thought certainly put a smile on Severus face, but as he watched Potter follow a goblin to the offices in the back he knew Potter was most likely the real thing. Unfortunately.

Many long minutes passed while Severus observed the people milling around him, waiting for Potter to return. The goblins would probably ask for some blood to verify his identity before unlocking the Potter accounts. Severus had no idea how much gold James Potter had left his only child, nor did he care all that much. The Potters had been well-off, but not outrageously rich like the Malfoys or the Blacks.

And who knew what Potter’s economical status had been in his previous home? He might have been a very rich man there and that expanded satchel hanging from his belt could be overflowing with gold. Or he might have been a pauper, who knew?

“Severus, so nice to see you here.” Narcissa Malfoy had sidled up to him without Severus even noticing. See, Potter’s spawn was already ruining Severus’ senses, distracting him when he wasn’t even in the room.

“Narcissa, lovely to see you, as always,” Severus replied with his smoothest voice, not at all surprised Narcissa had found her way to the epicentre of the most important news of the day. Severus was convinced Narcissa had bribed many people, goblins and wizards alike, to keep her abreast of any interesting news as it happened, including Harry bloody Potter visiting Gringotts.

Narcissa sat down in the chair beside his, smoothing her long, blue gown down around her thighs. “Is it true, what was written in the Prophet today? Has Potter really returned?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Severus said with a distasteful sneer at the mere memory of the man. “He’s here, taking care of the Potter account.”

Narcissa blinked a few times while looking from Severus to the offices and back. “And what sort of man is he?”

“He resembles Hagrid a great deal, including his appreciation for violent pets.”

“Indeed,” Narcissa said, voice full of fascination. “So he’s nothing like James Potter then?”

Severus wanted to claim that Potter the younger was exactly like Potter the elder, just as arrogant and conceited, but he also knew that wasn’t really the case. No, Narcissa had come to the right conclusion. “No, he’s not. Doesn’t even resemble him much in looks, but that might also be because most of his looks are hidden by far too much hair.”

Narcissa chuckled quietly, nose wrinkled in amusement. “The story is rather interesting, isn’t it? Raised in an entirely different world. Does he even know any real magic?”

Glancing at Narcissa, Severus took the time to ponder that question. “I do believe he does, though I have not yet seen him perform much of it.”

“So he might be practically a squib?” Narcissa’s light tone betrayed that she found that notion utterly hilarious.

Severus remembered the sheer power that had rolled off Potter when he’d appeared in the great hall, how cold and foreign and unforgiving it had felt, how every hair on his body had stood on end. “As hysterically funny as that would be, I doubt it. He attended a school for sorcerers, so he must have learned something there.”

Before Narcissa could reply, the door leading to the offices opened and Potter stepped out, a huge grin on his face and his oversized raven riding on his shoulder. Where the bird had suddenly come from, Severus had no idea.

“Hello, hello,” the bird cawed, briefly flapping its wings, as Potter approached them.

“What a fun ride those carts are! I’ll be making many withdrawals here, mark my words.” Potter kept smiling as he stopped before them, even as he gave Narcissa a curious look.

“Potter, may I introduce Narcissa Malfoy,” Severus said quickly because Narcissa looked like she might hex him if he didn’t formally introduce her to his unwelcome charge. “Narcissa, this is the long, lost Potter heir.”

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Narcissa drawled, looking Potter up and down a few times and probably reaching all sorts of condescending conclusions based solely on Potter’s rustic attire.

“Nice to meet you,” Potter said with a nod, but he never offered to shake hands. Now that Severus thought about it, at no point had Potter offered to shake anyone’s hands at any time. Perhaps this wasn’t a part of a normal greeting in the world he came from.

“What beautiful pendants,” Narcissa said with a smooth little smile, because of course she had at once noticed the chunk of decorated gold Potter had hanging around his neck. It was hard to miss. But there was another piece hanging from the same chain, something Severus had missed until just now. A red stone set in gold, a rather boring pendant compared to the vividly inscribed locket. “Do they have any special meaning?”

Potter’s face did a few interesting things. His eyes flashed briefly while his lips tightened in a line before his expression relaxed again. “Trinkets and heirlooms, that is all they are.” Then he looked at Severus and gestured towards the doors. “I have a bag full of gold coins and a desire to spend some of them. Shall we?”

Severus was left little choice but to follow Potter, who marched through the doors without pause. Potter was already halfway to Flourish and Blotts before Severus caught up with him. Neither spoke until they entered the bookshop and Potter stopped dead in his tracks, gazing around while his mouth sank open.

“Are books not rare in this world?” Potter said, genuinely shocked by what he was seeing.

“Not particularly, no,” Severus replied, terribly amused by Potter’s response for some reason.

“Merchant!” Potter bellowed out of the blue, sending one unlucky patron crashing into a stack of books as they jumped in surprise. “I am here to purchase your goods!”

The clerk behind the counter, a talentless Ravenclaw barely out of Hogwarts Severus remembered teaching up until OWL level, sprang to attention. “Yes, Sir. Er…oh, professor Snape?” The clerk swallowed a few times, staring at Severus with wide eyes. Good, he remembered exactly who he was facing. “Er…there are baskets you can use, and once you’ve made a selection I’ll ring you up.” The clerk gestured at the wicker baskets beside the door while taking Potter in.

“Books, books,” the raven on Potter’s shoulder cawed as Potter grabbed a basket.

Before he could disappear into the stacks, Severus stopped him with a quick gesture. “Buy what you want, but do remember Hogwarts has an elaborate library that you can use.”

“Ah, I’d almost forgotten.” And without further comment, Potter was gone, lost amidst a sea of books. Severus left him to it, making his way to the potions section to see if there were any new publications he hadn’t read yet.

They must have browsed for an hour before Potter resurfaced, three overflowing baskets hanging off his arms. Severus met him at the counter where he’d already paid for two new books for his own collection.

“Are these the only books you have?” Potter asked the dumbstruck clerk. “Your selection seems incomplete.”

“Er…how so?” the clerk asked carefully, a little disbelievingly.

“Well, where are your books on rituals? On summoning? Necromancy?” Potter demanded, eyes narrowed.

“Er…” the clerk glanced between Severus and Potter several times while Severus kept his face blank as he inwardly wondered what sort of sorcerer Potter truly was. “Those subjects are not exactly allowed, but you could try Knockturn Alley, I suppose.”

“I shall go there henceforth. Now tell me how many coins I owe you, merchant.” Potter dumped his baskets on the counter, books spilling everywhere. Severus watched quietly as the clerk scrambled to get Potter’s purchases taken care off and Severus mentally catalogued what kind of books Potter was buying. Runes, arithmancy, warding, potions, curses and counter-curses, duelling, charms, transfiguration, enchanting, even alchemy. And they were all newer publications, too, from what Severus could tell. It was an interesting selection of magical subjects, but none of them were beginner books.

Severus thought about pointing this out to Potter, but decided not to. It would be far more interesting to see how Potter would manage to learn any magic from books that lacked any introductions for a new wizard.

Once Potter handed over a generous stack of galleons and dumped all his new books inside his expanded satchel, Severus reminded him they had one last stop before Potter could go and explore the wonders of Knockturn Alley, which Severus would gladly pay a handful of gold for to see.

“A wand.” Severus gestured to the right, towards Ollivander’s store. “This way.”

Potter shrugged and followed him, apparently uncaring that wizards required wands to even be able to cast any of the magic found in the books Potter had just bought. Well, he’d figure that out sooner rather than later, Severus mused.

A bell rang as Potter stepped through Ollivander’s doors, Severus on his heels.

And then the most peculiar thing happened. Just as the door fell shut behind them and Potter entered the store properly, the whole of the store seemed to take a worried step back.

Severus would swear up and down, until the day he died, that every single box holding a wand slid backwards at least an inch throughout the entire store, as though terrified they should end up in Potter’s hands.

“Oh my,” Ollivander breathed, slinking around a corner and peering at Potter with wide, uncertain eyes. “It has been a long time indeed since we’ve had one of your kind in here, Mr Potter.”

“I was told I needed a wand,” Potter said with a careless shrug. “I sincerely doubt it, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to buy one”

Severus remained rooted at the spot, afraid to make even one sound, because he had no idea what Ollivander was talking about but he was desperate to find out.

“You already have a focus, don’t you?” Ollivander took a few cautious steps towards Potter, who looked around the store with interest.

“A few, yes.”

“Hmm.” Ollivander looked Potter up and down a few times before wandering off to find a wand for Potter to try. When he returned the box in his hands rattled, as though the wand inside of it was desperate to escape its destined future in Potter’s hands.

Severus had never seen wands act like this before, had never even heard of it.

“Cherry and dragon heartstring,” Ollivander said as he handed Potter the dark wand. “Well, give it a try.”

Potter whispered a few words that Severus couldn’t understand, swished the wand around and then chuckled when the wand turned to ashes in his hand, the remains falling gently to the floor.

“No, absolutely not,” Ollivander said with a harsh gesture at Potter. “I cannot sell you a wand. Leave now.”

“A good day to you,” Potter said while he turned and left the store without any protest. Severus barely dared to breathe as he followed his charge, wondering what on earth had just happened. Never in his life had he seen such a thing. The Dark Lord himself used all sorts of experimental magic, things no other wizard dared to touch, and he used a wand from Ollivander without any issues.

“Where can I find this Knockturn Alley?” Potter demanded as they stood outside in the weak November sun.

But before Severus could answer, Fawkes flashed into existence in a burst of flames. Severus jumped a foot backwards, banging against Ollivander’s door while Fawkes all but spit a note at him before flying to the roof opposite them so he could sit and silently laugh at him, Severus was sure of it. Blasted thing.

“Bad bird, bad bird,” the raven on Potter’s shoulder cawed while Severus opened the note, wondering what Albus wanted from him now. It had better not be to escort Potter to the ministry so Fudge could cover the man in medals or some such rot.

Oh no, it was so much worse than even that.

Severus,

Please escort Harry to twelve Grimmauld Place in London where two men are eagerly waiting to meet him. It will do young Harry some good to get to know the last living links to his parents.

Albus

“You will have to postpone your outing to the more seedier parts of the wizarding world to a later time,” Severus said, balling up the parchment and setting it on fire with a flick of his wand. “You have some admirers waiting for you. We’ll take the Knight Bus.” Severus was barely able to get the words out without cursing something to bits and pieces.

Lupin and Black, just what he needed on this already delightful day.

Potter looked at him with an arched eyebrow, probably noticing Severus’ suddenly souring mood, but he didn’t comment as they headed for the exit.

One very uncomfortable ride later they arrived at the dilapidated town house. Severus preceded Potter up the steps, because he did want to see Lupin and Black’s expressions when they saw Potter for the first time in all his unkempt glory, but other than that Severus vowed to leave immediately after that, done with Harry bloody Potter for the day.

The door was answered soon after Severus knocked on it, and he stepped to the side to give Lupin and Black a good look at Potter’s spawn. It was clear from their baffled expressions that they hadn’t expected Potter to look as he did.

“Hi, hi,” the raven cawed while Potter stepped closer to the opened door, gazing from Lupin and Black before his whole face lit up and he gave them a wide grin.

“Padfoot, Moony, mind telling me where the hell you were and why I ended up in Petunia’s fucking closet?”

Severus blinked, and then he blinked again. How in Salazar’s name did Potter know those childish nicknames those hooligans had used for each other in their youth? Severus sincerely doubted Petunia knew them, and if she did, that she’d shared them with her nephew.

Apparently Severus wasn’t the only one who picked up on that discrepancy.

“Hello, Harry,” Lupin said with a mild but curious look. “How on earth did you learn those names?”

Potter shrugged and ran a hand through his wild hair while the raven cawed, “Moony, Moony.”

“When I was learning to shield my mind and spent a lot of time meditating, I unlocked some early memories. You two were in some of them,” Potter said with a bright smile.

That was a lie.

Severus was sure of it. Potter had just told his first obvious lie to cover up something he shouldn’t know, and at once Severus doubted everything Potter had told them so far. Had the man even been stuck in a different world? How had he aged the way he had? And how did he know those details about his parents’ friends that he was too young to remember?

Screw his plans to get rid of Potter as soon as he could. Severus was now determined to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Harry Potter. Before anyone could stop him, Severus slipped inside the house and Potter followed him in at once. Black gave him a very sour look, eyes narrowed and filled with disgust, but Severus staunchly ignored him as he observed Potter.

While the raven on his shoulder flapped its wings in obvious excitement, Potter walked through the dusty, dark hallway of the Black family townhouse and ran his fingers along the wall while looking around with wide eyes.

“What a lovely house you have,” Potter said, and the most remarkable thing about that statement was that Potter seemed to mean every word of it.

Oh yeah, Severus was sticking with Potter and even the Dark Lord wouldn’t be able to drag him away until he knew every little thing there was to know about the man.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Harry’s first instinct was to run. Rylan was a sorcerer, powerful enough to remain undetected while literally spending all his time near Bram the Red for years and years, and Harry stood not a single chance against him.

Fuck, he really was a sheltered little swot, wasn’t he?

But running was not an option. Many had tried, but soon learned that the collar prevented them from moving past certain warded points in the city and that it acted like a beacon, making it easy for Karakas to find them.

A lot of students, the first time they were allowed to move about the city on their own to run some errands, attempted at least once to escape. But they never stayed out for more than a day, overwhelmed by the city, trapped by the extensive wards, and usually resigned once Karakas picked them up.

Punishment for this was usually two weeks locked in a room by themselves while only receiving water and bland porridge, so they could carefully consider their poor choices, according to Karakas. And for most of them, this was enough to ensure they never tried to escape again.

Occasionally, a student proved more stubborn. Harry well remembered one teenager named Maron, who made a sport of sneaking out of the school as often as he could. Karakas had gone easy on him at first, as he usually did with all the kids, but after the fifth time of having to haul Maron back to the school after yet another escape attempt, even Karakas got truly fed up, had Maron tied to a post in the courtyard, and had him whipped while he made every single student watch. And afterwards Genka had been forbidden to heal Maron with magic, and the boy had spent two weeks in the hospital before he could even walk a few steps again.

Harry had been nine at the time and he’d decided that simply trying to run away was a waste of time unless he could get that blasted collar off first.

Which meant that now there was no escape.

Rylan summoned him, and Harry had to go.

“Sweetheart,” his mother said as she crouched down in front of him, while Harry still sat quietly on the floor of the storage room. “You have to pull yourself together and make a plan. Rylan likes playing games, but for the most part, if you don’t fight back, he won’t hurt you too much. The more you fight, the more he will hurt you.”

“Use your occlumency to hide your emotions,” Charis said with a stern look. “You’re proficient enough to accomplish that, Harry. Put up an act. Play pretend.”

Dorea nodded her agreement. “Yes, pretend you’re curious about him. Butter him up. You’re not one of the small children he so likes to torture. You’re fifteen, practically a young man.”

“You can do this, Harry.” His father gave Harry a warm, encouraging smile. “You’ve survived Voldemort when you were a baby. You can survive this bastard as well, I just know it.”

“And what’s the worst that can happen?” Auntie Eustice mused while she barely glanced at Harry. “He kills you, and then we all lose access to the library.” When Harry whipped his head up to glare at her, she winked at him with a teasing little smile and somehow that made Harry chuckle.

Inhaling a deep breath, Harry pushed himself up to his feet and started compartmentalizing his mind. Charis was right. Harry was good at occlumency, Charis had personally seen to that. He just had to organize this mind in such a way that he could pretend to not be more terrified than he’d ever been in his life.

“There you go,” Euphemia said while beaming at him. “Remember, you come from a few long, strong lines of Gryffindors.”

Auntie Eustice obnoxiously cleared her throat.

“Yes, and a few Ravenclaws and Slytherins,” Euphemia added while glancing briefly at Eustice and Charis. “The point is, Harry, that you’re not alone in this. We’re here for you, always. We’ll be here for you once you return, just call us.”

Harry nodded, his heart beat slowly going back to normal. “Yeah, everyone else here has to deal with that monster sooner or later. Guess it’s my turn now.”

The sound of students walking through the corridors outside indicated that classes were over and Harry knew Karakas would come looking for him soon enough, so he squared his shoulders, made sure his mind was clear and snuck back out of the storage room. He brushed his thumb across the amulet, sending all his relatives back to the afterlife for now. He appreciated their support, but he didn’t need them to see any of what was to come.

Rindyll found him, took one look at his pale face and pulled him to the side.

“Bram’s dead, Rylan’s in charge and he will summon me soon,” Harry whispered, and Rindyll didn’t even bother asking how Harry knew all these things. She simply wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck and pulled him in a tight hug. They were of an equal hight, and Harry hugged her back, resting his cheek on her shoulder.

“Pretend you want to be there,” Rindyll said softly in his ear. “That makes it easier, I find.”

“Yeah, that was the plan.” Harry released her and gave her a small smile. Everyone he knew had been through this, were still going through this, being whored out, being forced to have sex. And Harry knew that if they could do it, than he could, too.

“There you are,” Karakas huffed as he hurried around the corner. “Harry, come along.”

With one last smile aimed at Rindyll, Harry followed after Karakas, who made his way to the entrance of the school.

“Dreadful news. Bram is dead, done in by an assassin sent by Rolf the Wretched. Such cowardly business. Now Rylan wants to see us both.” Karakas made it all sound as if it was business as usual, as if their whole world hadn’t just been turned upside down, but Harry noticed that he looked paler than usual and smelled strongly of boksala, as though he’d just downed a few shots before coming to find Harry. Since there was little else he could do, Harry decided to play along and pretend there was nothing amiss. His occlumency did help enormously with keeping his emotions firmly under wraps.

The carriage Rylan had sent was a small, covered two-seater, with a coachman sitting outside, while a team of stocky brown ponies pulled the whole thing. Harry climbed in it, some hidden parts of him quite excited because he’d never been in a carriage before, had never really been in any mode of transportation before, except perhaps while he was living with the Dursleys, but Harry barely had any detailed memories of that time, aside from that bloody cupboard. Just general feelings of pain and fear and hunger whenever he thought of them, which wasn’t often those days.

Karakas got in beside Harry, manoeuvring his staff just so that it fit in the cramped carriage as well, and the coachmen urged the ponies to walk as soon as Karakas closed the door. Staffs were interesting things, Harry was learning. One was expected to make their own, usually when they were in their late teens and were able to cast magic readily. Staffs were personal, made up of lots of magical items a sorcerer found and used along the way. And most peculiarly, they absorbed a tiny amount of magic every time they were used, making them stronger and more powerful the older they were. Harry had read accounts of staffs that were passed down for generations, from one sorcerer to the next, and became extraordinarily powerful tools, allowing even the weakest sorcerers to cast amazing spells.

Harry snorted quietly. So the occlumency was working, if he was able to muse about the functionality of staffs while being led to his metaphorical slaughter.

“Best remove that, child,” Karakas said, gesturing at the amulet around Harry’s neck. “It’s one of a kind.”

Harry felt a sudden rush of mild panic at the idea of Rylan stealing his amulet, and he pulled it off over his head and quickly stuffed it in his expanded satchel. He doubted Rylan would want to look in there, as most people merely kept used handkerchiefs in it. “Couldn’t you make a new one, if I lost this one?”

Karakas chuckled softly. “Ah, would that be the case I would have already. That one is the only one I have and it was a gift.”

Harry blinked at his teacher, genuinely surprised. He’d always thought Karakas had made the amulet himself.

“I’m no necromancer, Harry.” Karakas waved a hand around in a nonchalant gesture. “I dabble, more than most, I suppose, but I don’t have the talent for the real work.”

“Then who gave you this amulet?” Harry asked, unable to supress his curiosity no matter how much occlumency he was using at that moment.

“Ah, that was the only necromancer I’ve ever met, back when we were still being hunted. Arwan the Ancient. Lived up to his name, that one. Most powerful sorcerer I’ve ever met, though he looked like he already had one foot in the grave and the other wasn’t far behind. Old, grizzled, thin as a skeleton. But his power, oh by the sun goddess, he had power.” Karakas smiled while his eyes were distant, probably lost in old memories. “He was so happy I showed some talent for the deathly crafts, so he taught me what he could in the time we travelled together, and he gave me that amulet. But I could never make it work right, not like you can.”

“What became of him?” Harry asked, transfixed with the idea of a powerful necromancer who was out there somewhere. Perhaps Harry could look him up once he escaped and perhaps he could teach Harry more than Karakas could.

“That was many decades ago, child. If I had to have a guess, I’d say Arwan perished not long after I met him. He sure looked like he wasn’t long anymore for this world.”

“Ah.” Harry sighed in the mild disappointment he felt. Still, Karakas wasn’t sure Arwan was dead, so Harry filed that name away in his mind and promised himself he would find out what happened to the old necromancer.

The sun was slowly setting, but there was still plenty of light outside to see the city around them, and Harry stared out the window at the parts of the city he’d never been to before. They descended the side of the mountain through cobbled streets, filled with people and horses and carts pulled by pankies. Harry got a much better look at Shit Creek while they rode along a particular wide street just above it, but then they turned up the side of the mountain again, now on the main road that led to the castle that they could see looming over them.

It was made up of the white stone that most of Misty Springs was constructed out of, and that was quarried locally deep in the mountains. The bell tower with its mechanical clock was the highest point of the castle, but there were many other spires that were almost as tall. Different layers of walls divided the outer compound from the inner keep, with many iron gates operated by thick chains on huge wheels.

The carriage passed through them all without any problems and Harry realized they weren’t the only ones making their way into the keep. The moment they stepped out of the carriage a servant dressed in a blue tunic urged them to follow him. They moved amongst a throng of people all walking inside the great stone hall where many tables were set up to house hundreds of guests. Harry looked at everything around him with wide eyes, especially at the diverse crowd made up of warriors and ladies in fancy gowns, and portly merchants and exited craftspeople. Everyone who was anyone in Misty Springs was there, Harry thought.

The servant led them to the main table and that was when Harry got his first glimpse of
Rylan Bloodstone in a long time. From what Harry remembered the man hadn’t changed one bit as he lounged in the biggest chair at the centre of the table. He glanced up at Karakas and Harry and gave them a big smile, his scarred face creasing up in ways it probably shouldn’t, but otherwise he didn’t bother them and the servant urged Harry and Karakas to sit down a little further down the main table.

All around them people sat down as servant after servant carried more dishes of food to the many tables than Harry had ever seen before. Loaves of dark bread too numerous to count, huge chunks of roasted meat with the bones sticking out, many golden pies filled with who knows what, and baskets of cheese and bowls of olives. Harry wasn’t sure what a lot of the foods before him even were.

A servant poured a red liquid in Harry’s tin cup before he could tell the man no.

“It’s wine,” Karakas whispered straight into his ear, as all the chattering voices around them reached an impossible volume, almost overwhelming Harry to the point that his occlumency shields strained painfully. “It’s made from grapes they grow all the way in the Crescent Peaks and it costs a fortune to transport it here.”

Harry sipped his cup and found himself pleasantly surprised. This wine was alcoholic but had a pleasant, sweet taste. Nothing like the strong, dry flavour of boksala Harry had tried when Karakas had offered him a shot in celebration of Harry reanimating his first mouse recently. No, wine was much, much better.

“Drink, child,” Karakas urged him quietly. “It’ll make things easier for you later.”

Harry refused to wonder what would happen later and instead steadily sipped his cup of wine as everyone around them got settled.

“Today we have lost a great warrior and an even greater leader,” Rylan shouted as he got up, holding a tankard up high. Around them the noise died down at once as everyone looked to their new leader. “Bram was undefeated and only a cowardly assassination could do him in at the end. His likeness will never walk this world again and we are poorer for it.”

Around them many people voiced their agreement with shouts and jeers, as people raised their cups in a salute.

“But Bram was not one for regrets and would not want us to sit around moping in his name. So tonight, we feast and we remember. All that have tales to tell of Bram will be heard here this night. For now, let’s eat!”

And Rylan sat down again to a thunderous applause as everyone reached for the food and served themselves until their plates overflowed.

Harry didn’t have much of an appetite, his stomach tied up in knots, but he did manage to try some of the cheeses and cured meats which he all washed down with plenty of wine. Around them, one after the other, people got up and told loud and epic stories of Bram the warrior and his many heroic deeds on the battle field. As the night progressed and the alcohol loosened more and more tongues, others got up as well to speak. Ladies who praised the size of Bram’s manhood and his stamina, and warriors who spoke of how Bram would fuck captured enemy women one after the other in a row while their dead male relatives still lay around them.

Harry drank more wine.

As the night progressed and the organized individual storytelling had transformed into a cacophony of many stories being shared at great volume all around the hall, Harry felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Rylan standing behind him, grey eyes obviously amused.

“Come, boy, we have a few things to settle.” And without saying another word, Rylan turned on his heels and marched out of the hall through a narrow side door.

Harry wanted to puke because he knew he couldn’t refuse. Karakas elbowed him rather harshly in his side. “Go, child. Don’t keep that man waiting, not for anything. Just do as he wishes and don’t fight him.”

Pushing himself up from his seat, Harry wobbled a little as he steadied himself with one hand on Karakas’ shoulder but eventually he found his balance and shuffled out of the hall in the direction Rylan had disappeared in.

Right as Harry wondered how he was ever going to find the man in this huge castle, he found Rylan waiting for him on the other side of the unremarkable wooden door. Harry looked up at him and blinked, trying to clear his eyesight. Rylan was almost a foot taller than him and at least twice as broad.

“Are you drunk, boy?” Rylan started walking again and Harry followed.

“I think so,” Harry said honestly, since he didn’t think there was a point in trying to deny such an obvious thing. “But that’s probably a good thing, since I’ve never done this before.”

Rylan paused for a moment and glanced at Harry over his shoulder. “You’ve never…you mean you’re a virgin, boy?”

“Yep.” Harry made an obvious gesture with his hand. “Only ever really wanked, until now, and even that hasn’t been that often. Do you know how little privacy there is at our school?”

Rylan cackled while shaking his head in obvious delight. “Oh, I am going to enjoy breaking you in, my precious boy.”

They reached a long corridor with a huge pair of wooden doors at the end. Two guards stood on either side of them, and they pushed the doors open for Rylan and Harry.

The rooms beyond were large and luxurious, with many soft, fur rugs covering the stone floors and many colourful tapestries covering the stone walls. Wooden furniture filled the rooms, with chairs and cabinets and tables and in the room adjacent to the first one, there was a large, wooden bed with four posts and white linen curtains all around them. In a room further down Harry could hear water running and it seemed that the master suite had its own bathroom with running spring water.

“Let’s take the edge of first, boy, so you stop looking like I’m about to bite off your head.” Rylan stood in the middle of the sitting room and pulled off his leather vest, leaving his scarred and tattooed chest bare save for the red stone hanging from a gold chain, and he untied his linen pants so they fell open at the crotch, revealed his hardening cock. “Kneel and suck me off.”

Harry blinked a few times, his head swimming, but he did as he was told, even though deep inside his mind, firmly behind his thickest occlumency walls, he was screaming. Inhaling a deep breath, Harry sank to his knees, thankfully on a rug, and wrapped a hand around Rylan’s cock. He swallowed, once, twice, before sucking the thing into his mouth.

Rylan gave him some instructions, one hand firmly gripping onto Harry’s hair as he guided Harry’s mouth up and down his cock. Harry just let it happen, blissfully drunk and barely aware what was going on.

Before long, Rylan came and shot his seed down Harry’s tongue and Harry swallowed because what else could he do.

“Take your clothes off,” Rylan said, a unexpectedly soft smile on his face. “And come stand in front of me.”

Harry did as he was told, shucking the white, knee-length tunic he always wore and untying the thin loincloth until that too dropped to the floor and he was left naked. He managed to climb to his feet without falling over and the moment he stood in front of Rylan a hand wrapped around his cock and started jacking him off.

“You see, Harry,” Rylan said softly, his hand working steadily while Harry’s cock quickly grew hard. “I’m a simple man. You do something nice for me, I do something nice for you. As long as you remember that, we’ll get along splendidly.”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry slurred, slowly falling against Rylan face first because fucking hell, he wasn’t made of stone and someone pulling on his cock with expert strokes had a very positive effect on him, okay, no matter the dire circumstances.

It took an embarrassingly sort time for Harry to come and shoot his seed all over the fur rug beneath his feet. It still felt fucking amazing, though, no matter it was a monster that just gave him his first shared orgasm.

“We’ll get you trained up a bit, my boy, so you last longer.” Rylan was grinning at him before giving him a push towards the bedroom. “Now I’m going to fuck your ass open, Harry. It’ll be uncomfortable the first few times, but you’ll learn to love it soon enough, I promise.”

Harry doubted all of this very much, but his body was slack with wine and a recent orgasm, so he shuffled into the bedroom and let Rylan push him onto the white sheets, face first so his ass was sticking up in the air while his feet remained firmly on the ground.

Rylan took his time and used lots of oil, which Harry vaguely realized was probably very nice of him. It still felt weird, to have fingers moving in and out of his ass of all places, and once Rylan replaced those with his hard cock it downright burned, but Harry held still and squeezed his eyes shut and reminded himself that so many kids had endured so much worse at the hands of this man, and that this was nothing and Harry could take it.

When Rylan approached his climax, he reached around and jerked Harry off again and that felt good, really good, Harry couldn’t deny that.

Afterwards, they lay side by side on the bed, covered in sweat and semen, while Rylan pushed a full cup of wine in Harry’s hands. “You did good, boy. We’ll do this again in a few days.”

Harry wanted to protest, but he couldn’t, so he just drank more wine because that dulled his senses to the point that even the part of him that was screaming behind his occlumency shields shut the fuck up.

“When we first met, you were wearing such a pretty necklace,” Rylan said, trailing a finger down Harry’s warm chest. “Where did it go?”

“Er…” Harry blinked and turned his head to look at a very blurry Rylan. “Karakas took it back, cause I summoned too many people.”

“Ah.” Rylan leaned up on his elbow as he licked his lips. “But you got it to work?”

“Yeah,” Harry said with a sigh. “Got to talk to my parents. They died when I was a baby, so that was nice, having them around.”

Rylan’s smile was unexpectantly sweet, even if the scars on his face belied that sentiment. “I’m glad you got to meet them. Tell Karakas to return the necklace to you. I want you to keep summoning, Harry.”

“All right,” Harry easily agreed, and then he knew no more because he fell asleep.

The next morning, Rylan woke Harry up with a hot cup of herbal tea and let him use the facilities before bending him over again for a morning fuck. This time Harry was significantly more sober and Rylan shoving his hard cock up Harry’s ass hurt a lot more somehow, but Harry endured and even got to have his own orgasm when Rylan reached around again.

“You’re doing good, Harry.” Rylan patted him on his ass while a servant came to lead Harry away after they were done. Harry scrambled to get dressed while Rylan walked around his bedroom stark naked, uncaring who saw him that way. “I will sent for you in a few days.”

And that was that. Harry had faced his boogieman, and he lived to tell the tale, even if his arse burned like crazy. Halfway out of the castle, Harry’s stomach suddenly sat up and let him know it wasn’t happy about anything anymore, and Harry bent double and threw up right in the middle of an empty hallway. The servant sniffed but waved away Harry’s apologies and simply urged him out of the castle and into the waiting carriage.

The ride back to the school was quiet and Harry stared out over the city and wondered how long he was going to have to play fuckboy to Rylan. Would Rylan grow tired of him? What would he do then? And was it wrong that Harry actually had enjoyed the orgasms Rylan gave him even when he hated the man?

By the time he arrived at the school, Harry’s head was pounding with a nasty headache and he lowered his occlumency shields and was suddenly overcome with shame and nausea. Harry didn’t bother entering the school, he just walked around the buildings, all the way to the back where the springs were, and he yanked his clothes off and sat down in shallow pool and cried.

It had been ages and ages since Harry had shed a tear for anyone, probably not since Roy had died, but now Harry couldn’t stop himself from succumbing to violent sobs.

Rindyll found him, and without saying a word she slipped out of her own clothes and sank in the water beside him. When Harry didn’t object, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

“Was it very bad?” Rindyll whispered, pressing her head against Harry’s.

“No, not really,” Harry said, wiping a wet hand across his eyes. “That somehow makes it worse.”

“He got you off?” Rindyll guessed.

“Yeah. Three times. That fucker.” Harry suddenly found himself extraordinarily pissed off about this, that his rapist had given him his first orgasms like that.

Rindyll nodded in understanding. “Yeah, there’s this one guy who I see a lot, who just loves eating me out. Like, will go at it for hours. Makes me come at least three, four times. At first I hated it, but now I just enjoy it. I figure it’s the least that bastard can do for me, you know, make me feel good while he abuses me.”

“Huh.” Harry blinked and stared at Rindyll. “That is a good way to look at it. Rylan seemed to want me to enjoy it, or at least parts of it. He wasn’t overly cruel, just to the point.”

“So enjoy what you can, Harry. There’s no one going to hate you for that.”

Inhaling a deep breath, Harry decided to do just that. He was stuck in a situation without an immediate escape, and instead of just fighting everything every step of the way, he could just enjoy the bits that were enjoyable while still planning his escape and revenge.

It took Harry a day before he felt ready to summon his family, because every time he reached for his amulet he felt an odd sense of shame. But he wasn’t about to let Rylan and his rapist ways steal away Harry’s family, so eventually he pulled himself together and summoned his mother.

“How are you, Harry?” Lily said with a warm smile without drowning it in unwelcome sympathy.

“I’m alive.” Harry shrugged, barely looking at his mother. “It wasn’t too bad. He was pretty gentle, all things considered.”

“You survived, Harry,” his mum said, floating closer to him. “That’s the most important thing. Rylan will get what’s coming to him, I promise, but you have to survive in the meantime.”

His mother’s kind acceptance made Harry confident enough to summon the rest of his family, who were equally practical about the whole thing.

“Just keep buttering him up,” Dorea said with an encouraging smile. “There is no shame in manipulating him in getting what is best for you, Harry.”

“And use your occlumency, Harry. There is no shame in making this easier for yourself, either,” Charis added.

“I’m proud of you,” his father said. “You’re a survivor and you’re growing stronger by the day. You won’t always be a slave.”

Harry took his family’s words to heart and counted himself very lucky to have these people around him.

When Rylan summoned him again a few days later, Harry felt much calmer as he rode the carriage to the castle. He knew what to expect now, and he knew that it wasn’t the end of the world. He could survive this.

Rylan fucked him a few times, like before, and he made sure every time that Harry got off, too, which Harry appreciated. And while it felt unpleasant and uncomfortable to be fucked in the ass, at least it didn’t hurt anymore like it had done at first. In between rounds of fucking they lay on the bed and Rylan gazed at the amulet around Harry’s neck.

“Show me,” Rylan whispered, brushing his lips across one of Harry’s nipples. “Use it.”

Harry swallowed and brushed his thumb across the amulet to summon his mum, figuring she was the more level-headed one of his parents. Though part of him wanted to sick his Auntie Eustice on Rylan, he figured that might be a little bit too much of a good thing.

“My dear, dear boy,” Rylan said, grey eyes practically glowing, as he looked between Harry and his mum. “You do have the gift. No wonder Karakas calls you his little diamond.” Rylan placed his hand on Harry’s where it still rested on the amulet. “Make no mistake, boy, you are a diamond yet to be shaped, and I will be the one shaping you.”

And right after that Rylan had turned Harry over on the bed and fucked him hard and long, and Harry had barely enough time to dismiss his mum before Rylan rammed his cock inside Harry’s ass, because there were some things Harry didn’t want his mum to ever see.

And so started Harry’s very strange relationship with Rylan Bloodstone.

Over the next weeks and months, Harry saw the man usually twice a week for a night. Half the time Rylan was there in the morning for a quick wake-up fuck, but other times a servant gave Harry some breakfast and led him out of the castle.

And surprisingly, Harry started enjoying being fucked in the ass. Rylan always went out of his way to make sure Harry was well-prepared and he always jerked him off, and the feeling of Rylan’s cock sliding in and out of his body also became pleasurable all by itself. It surprised Harry, but he let it happen and tried not to beat himself up about it and enjoyed what he could about their encounters.

And in between all the sex, Rylan would talk to him, ask him about his magical studies. It was funny, in a way. Rylan never verbally confirmed to Harry that he was a sorcerer, but he always talked about magic in the way only a sorcerer could, from a place of vast experience. And he always answered Harry’s questions and Harry felt emboldened to ask more and more invasive questions because Rylan never shut him down.

“What are these for?” Harry asked, as they lay on the bed together and Harry trailed a finger across some of the many tattoos on Rylan’s chest.

“Can’t you read them?” Rylan curved one dark eyebrow as he glanced at Harry.

Raising himself up a little, Harry studied the runes on Rylan’s chest. “Some of them. This is connection, and that is power, and that is knowledge.” Harry frowned as he looked up at Rylan. “They almost seem like wards.”

“Clever boy.” Rylan grinned and turned Harry over and fucked him until Harry begged for release and Rylan finally reached around and had him coming in three little strokes of his hand.

And just like that Harry’s visits to Rylan transformed from an unpleasant, unwanted chore he had to subject himself to with force, to something he genuinely looked forward to doing.

It was the most remarkable thing. One evening Harry sat in the carriage on the way to the castle and he realized he couldn’t wait to tell Rylan about the ward he’d made that day and that he was actually looking forward to getting fucked hard and proper.

And then, one night after many months of pretty much the same routine, everything changed.

Once more they were lying in bed after their initial fuck, which Rylan always insisted they have first thing when Harry walked into his rooms. Harry sighed in a way that conveyed a world of frustration and Rylan chuckled as he sat up to pour them both a cup of wine.

“What’s on your mind, my boy?” Rylan handed Harry one of the cups and Harry took a long, grateful sip.

“Ugh, I keep getting stuck with reanimation. I’ve managed a dog, barely, but now I’m trying a monkey and the bloody thing just stays dead no matter what I do.” Harry grumbled and drank more wine.

Rylan, the bastard, laughed in his face. “Oh, my sweet boy, to truly reanimate intelligent beings, you have to walk the deathlands first.”

Harry swallowed. Ever since he’d heard about the deathlands, he’d been worried about walking them. No, strike that, Harry was bloody terrified, all right, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. And then something dawned on him and he stared at Rylan who was giving him an expectant look. “Wait,” Harry said, suddenly feeling very foolish indeed that he hadn’t figured this out before. “You’re a necromancer, aren’t you.”

Rylan’s grin was enormous. “Took you long enough.”

A huge burst of warmth and dare he say it, affection rushed through Harry as he stared at the older man beside him. Rylan was a necromancer! “You have to teach me,” Harry demanded as he shot up in bed.

“What do you think I’ve been doing, you little fool,” Rylan said with a laugh, but Harry didn’t let him say anything else because he dove on top of Rylan and pressed his lips to Rylan’s mouth. They hadn’t really kissed before, but Rylan answered Harry’s attempt at once and opened his mouth and then their tongues were duelling while Harry crawled on top of Rylan. Scooting in position, Harry reached behind himself and since his ass was still slick and loose from their first round he had no trouble sliding Rylan’s cock inside his body.

They never fucked like this, never with Harry on top and kissing, but Harry couldn’t help himself, he really, truly couldn’t, because here was the answer to all his troubles, here was a man who liked him enough to be gentle with him and to teach him all about the magic Harry so desperate wanted to learn.

Their fuck was quick and dirty and Harry shot his seed all over Rylan’s tattooed chest, but it changed everything.

From then on, Rylan openly spoke about necromancy with Harry, answered all his questions, and Harry started wanting to visit Rylan every day instead of having to wait a few days between meetings.

One evening, Rylan had some tools spread out on the bed when Harry entered the room, his cock already hard in anticipation of their first fuck.

“Come, undress and lay down.” Rylan gestured towards the bed while binding a whole bunch of tiny needles together and attaching them to a wooden handle. A jar of black ink and a few pieces of cloth were the other items present. “It’s time for you first tattoo, my boy.”

Harry blinked in surprise, but then he quickly shucked his clothes and unashamed about his erection he lay down on his back, looking up at Rylan with a wide grin.

“Well, aren’t you in a good mood,” Rylan said with a chuckle, glancing at Harry’s hard cock. “Later, my dear boy. Now, I’m going to give you a personal ward of protection to help you survive the deathlands once you’re ready to walk them.”

And with that, Rylan dipped the needles in the ink and started gently pounding them into Harry’s skin, starting right over his heart and moving across his chest in a swirling pattern. And while it burned a little, the whole time Harry’s cock stayed rock hard, knowing Rylan was sharing his own magic with Harry. Drops of blood seeped up through the inked lines, and every now and then Rylan would swipe them up with his thumb and brush it across the red stone he wore around his neck. Harry wondered why that was but when he asked Rylan he simply brushed a kiss against Harry’s lips and said he would explain at a later time.

Afterwards, with the brand new tattoos still raw, Rylan fucked him hard and fast and Harry came twice, once even from Rylan pounding inside of him alone. It was their best fuck to date, Harry was sure of it, and he crawled against Rylan’s sweaty body and kissed his chest while he mumbled his thanks. Rylan trailed his fingers through Harry’s messy hair while he smiled down at Harry with glowing eyes.

But of course, things couldn’t just stay nice and peaceful and filled with physical pleasure as they had been. Something had to go and fuck it all up.

A while after Harry got his second string of tattoos, this one of his left biceps, which would give him strength to walk the deathlands, he returned to the school to see the familiar handcart standing in the entrance courtyard, sheet covering what looked to be three small bodies. That afternoon Harry had a private lesson with Karakas, but he found his teacher drunk and maudlin.

“He’s asked me to triple them,” Karakas said in an unsteady voice while Harry sat down opposite him.

“Triple what?” Harry asked, though he had a heavy suspicion that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Karakas swallowed and took a gulp from the boksala bottle in his hand. “The magical children I bring here.”

“Rylan?” Harry asked, stomach swirling until his whole body felt nauseous.

“Yes, your new best friend,” Karakas spat, voice full of venom. “While you fuck him, I am to bring him more and more magical children so he can kill them.” Karakas stared at him with dark, accusing eyes. “Are you in on this, Harry? Is this something you do with that beast? Fuck little children into their grave?”

“No, of course not!” Harry jumped up, beyond upset Karakas would think something like that of him.

Karakas shrugged as he drank more booze. “You seem so…intimate with him lately, Harry. You practically skip out of here with a spring in your step every time he summons you.”

Cheeks burning with shame and guilt, Harry glared at Karakas. He hadn’t hated the man in a long time, but he hated him now. “Fuck you. I’m trying to make the best of a very bad situation.”

“If that what you’re calling it? Playing the whore for that monster?”

Harry all but exploded, his magic bursting out of him, sending his chair and numerous scrolls of paper flying through Karakas’ office. “Who the fuck do you think you are, accusing me of playing the whore? You brought me here!”

“To save magic!” Karakas jumped to his feet as well, giving Harry a desperate look that was both pleading and riddled with pain. “To keep magic alive in our world. In the only way I knew how.”

“Yeah, but the price of that is more and more dead magical children,” Harry whispered, staring at his feet, teeth gritted. “And that’s on you.” And without waiting for a rebuke or a reply, Harry marched out the door. He was sixteen, almost seventeen. He wasn’t going to listen to such verbal abuse anymore.

Harry rubbed his hands across his face in a harsh gesture. Fuck, he wanted that collar off. But to get the collar off, he needed to spike Karakas’ tea, and in order to do that, he needed to reanimate a monkey, and in order to do that, he needed to walk the deathlands.

And after many, many talks with Rylan they had decided Harry would get a few more magical tattoos to help protect him and they would wait until he turned seventeen, which was the magical age of majority where Harry came from.

But until that time, Harry was stuck there and he was truly sick and tired of it.

The frustration carried over to his next meeting with Rylan. When Harry entered his bedroom, Rylan made to pull Harry’s tunic off, but Harry sidestepped him and turned to glare at him. “What do you need all those magical children for? Why do you keep killing them?”

Rylan slowly narrowed his eyes while he stared at Harry. “Boy, watch your tongue. Remember who you are speaking to.”

“No,” Harry snarled, utterly done with all the shit around him. “I’m sick of this –”

Harry never got to finish his tirade, because Rylan was on him in a second, one hand clenched around Harry’s throat while the other ripped Harry’s tunic and loincloth off in one fell swoop. Rylan used a flash of magic to push Harry backwards onto the table and Harry had no choice but to lay down on his back, his legs spread wide. One hand still clutched around Harry’s throat, Rylan summoned the oil with his other hand and quickly slathered his cock before ramming it inside Harry’s unprepared ass.

Harry cried out in shock and pain. Fuck, that hurt. Rylan took no note of Harry’s obvious discomfort but fucked him with hard and rough bucks of his hips, hand clenching ever tighter around Harry’s throat until the world around him became smaller and smaller and shadows invaded around the edges and Harry passed out.

When he came to, he was still lying on the table, his ass a raw and sore mess, and Rylan was busy getting his tattoo supplies ready in the bedroom.

Oh, Harry had messed up, hadn’t he? He’d well and truly pissed Rylan off. Harry did the only thing he could think of as he gingerly got to his feet and walked quietly into the bedroom.

“Master,” Harry breathed, falling onto his knees and pressing his face against Rylan’s hip. “I’m so sorry. I was so out of line, and I beg your forgiveness.”

Rylan looked down at him with a steady gaze. “Already forgiven, my boy. You’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I won’t talk to you again like that, promise.”

“Good boy. Get on the bed. Time for your third tattoo.” Rylan helped a sore Harry to his feet and Harry lay down, a few tears of sheer gratitude forming in his eyes that Rylan had forgiven him so quickly. The thought of Rylan staying mad at him, of hurting him again, did some very unpleasant things to Harry’s chest.

Rylan placed the third tattoo on Harry’s right biceps, this one for knowledge to walk the deathlands. And afterwards, Rylan even healed Harry’s broken ass before preparing him properly this time. When Rylan spread Harry’s legs and slid into him, Harry pulled Rylan down on top of himself and kissed him with everything he had, wanting to, having to make sure Rylan knew Harry wanted to be with him, wanting to learn from him and wouldn’t be such a stupid boy again around him.

The next morning Harry was genuinely pleased to receive a gentle good-morning fuck in the bed before Rylan pressed a firm kiss to his lips and went about his day. Harry felt much, much better by the time he made it back to the school.

“Master wants to see you,” Broi said. He was their curses and spells teacher, one of the older slaves there, and utterly devoted to Karakas as far as Harry knew.

“Sure,” Harry said with a sigh. He didn’t want Karakas to spoil his good mood but he also knew it wouldn’t be smart to keep the man waiting when being summoned. Karakas may favour Harry to an absurd degree, the man still held all the power over Harry through that blasted collar and Harry didn’t want to test Karakas’ patience after he’d just received a well-deserved smackdown from Rylan.

“Harry.” Karakas seemed relieved to see Harry when he entered. Strangely, Karakas also seemed utterly sober and there was a new clarity in his eyes. “I am happy to see you. Come, I have something for you.” And without pause, Karakas pressed a few books and scrolls of paper in Harry’s hands.

“Keep these safe, my little diamond.” Karakas gave Harry an urgent look with shining eyes. “Keep these out of the monster’s hands, promise me.”

“I promise,” Harry said, because what else could he say. He would examine the texts he was given thoroughly before deciding who he was sharing it with. At the urging of his family, Harry had never shared any of his wizarding magic with Rylan, even though he’d been tempted a time or two to do so.

“Good lad.” Karakas gave Harry’s shoulder a firm pat. “You’re a good lad, Harry. You’re going to be so strong one day. I’m proud of you.” And then Karakas urged a baffled Harry out of his office.

Harry went, and saw that the teachers’ room across the hall was empty and he stepped in there so he could quietly place all the books and scrolls inside his expanded satchel so other people wouldn’t get too curious about what Harry now had in his possession. Then he summoned his family to show off his third tattoo. A few of his family were very interested in the runes Rylan used and they all gathered around Harry’s arm to study the newly inked inscriptions in Harry’s skin when a huge burst of magic literally put Harry on his ass.

One moment he was standing and the next moment he was sitting on his behind three feet further into the room.

“What the fuck was that?” Harry asked while his family looked around in confusion. A few flew out the room to investigate.

Charlus quickly came flying back into the room. “It’s Karakas.”

Before his great-uncle could say more, Harry ran out of the teachers’ room and burst into Karakas’ office, where he saw the man hanging from the rafters, a tight noose around his neck, a knocked over chair lying on the floor beneath him.

Karakas was dead and all the magic that was tied to his lifeforce had just disappeared in a literal bang.

As Harry stared at the cooling body of his teacher he was utterly unsure of what to do next.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

“Harry, remember the plan,” his mother said as she floated in front of him, but Harry barely heard her. All he could do was stare up at Karakas hanging dead from the ceiling while he suddenly felt empty inside and utterly numb.

It was strange that this should affect Harry the way it did, since part of Harry hated the man, but at the same time Karakas was the closest thing Harry had to a living parent since he was four. At the very least the man had been a devoted mentor and Harry experienced a sharp stab of pain in his chest realizing Karakas was well and truly dead and wouldn’t be coming back.

“Rylan,” Harry whispered, because all his mind could come up with was to alert Rylan of what had happened.

“No!” Lily floated even closer to Harry, James not far behind. “You do not owe that monster anything. Remember the plan, Harry!”

“But Rylan – “ Harry was unable to say more because his mother had just slapped her very chilly, non-corporal hand across Harry’s face.

“Harry, snap out of it, now!” Lily looked like she was ready to slap him again if Harry didn’t start acting rationally soon.

Charis moved in front of Harry, all but elbowing James out of the way. “Harry, lower your occlumency shields. All of them.”

“Oh dear,” Dorea said from further inside the room, apparently catching on to what was happening. “Did he accidentally occlude his trauma?”

“Huh,” Harry said, looking between his mother and the rest of the family. His mind felt like it was filled with cotton balls and all it could seem to repeat was the urge to contact Rylan and ask him for help.

“Lower your occlumency shields, Harry, and afterwards we can contact Rylan,” Charis said with an utterly reasonable smile, and finally that seemed to make sense to Harry enough that he followed her orders.

The first layer of mental shields was easy enough to lower, but every layer after that became more and more difficult and painful. With every layer gone, more and more mental anguish and shame and guilt filled Harry’s head until he had to lean a hand against the wall to keep his balance while he bent over and barely refrained from puking.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Harry muttered, his mind suddenly clearer than it had been in many months. “Fuck, this hurts.”

“Yes, you were right,” Charis said to Dorea. “He definitely has been occluding a little too much, but it probably did make life easier for him over the last year.”

“We’ll deal with the trauma later,” Dorea said with a nod. “Escape first.”

“Harry, sweetheart, you must now remember the plan,” Lily insisted yet again while giving Harry a desperate look.

Right. The plan. Harry knew this, because his family had hammered the many, many plans they’d come up with over the years into his head over and over again. They’d laid out plans for practically every possible scenario, from what to do when an invading army would take over the school, to Harry accidentally finding himself back home in the wizarding world without warning.

“Plan number one,” Harry said, pushing himself upright and finally looking his mum in the eyes. “And using the smuggler’s path to escape.” Plan number one had always been Karakas’ unexpected death.

“Yes,” Lily agreed with an encouraging smile. “Now it’s time to get your collar off.”

Harry inhaled a deep breath while fishing his opal from his satchel. This was it, the moment he’d been trying to make happen for pretty much a decade now. Holding the opal in his palm and pointing a finger at his collar, Harry whispered, “Alohomora.”

The leather opened at the invisible seam and the collar slipped away from Harry’s neck, landing right in his waiting hand. What followed was a woosh of sheer power that seemed to rush inside Harry so fast and hard that for a few long moments it was hard to breathe as he swayed on his feet.

Harry had never felt such magic, such power, and he now realized that this had always been his, but that the collar had prevented him from accessing it, from even knowing it was there.

Now Harry had all the magic at his fingertips that he’d ever need and he’d never felt more confident or powerful. “Right,” Harry said and turned to look at Patroclus. “Go keep an eye on Rylan. He’ll have felt that magical burst and I want to know the moment he’s heading here.” Once his great-grandfather had left he sent a wave of magic towards his remaining family, making sure they’d be visible to others. “Rigel, find Rindyll, and Bernadine, find Valdis. Bring them to me. Everybody else, go explain what is happening to the rest of the students and tell anyone who wants to come with me to pack their clothes and wait in the back courtyard near the springs.” The souls flew off while Harry reached inside his satchel to grab another, empty expanded satchel, ready to be filled. Over the years Harry had made many magically expanded satchels and always kept them on his person for an occasion just like the one he was having.

It barely took more than a thought and a wave of his hand to gather every book and piece of paper and trinket and other possession from Karakas’ office. Even a sizable chest which was filled with coins, by the sound of it, disappeared inside the bag. Lastly there was Karakas’ staff, and Harry grabbed it and held onto it, because he knew that before the day was over he’d probably need to cast many spells to aid their escape and a powerful tool like a much-used staff would certainly help with that.

Harry gave Karakas’ body one last look, his chest constricting a few times with grief and regret, but then he turned around and left the empty office without looking back.

Halfway to the library he was intercepted by Rindyll and Valdis, and he was happy to see that they’d both gotten their collars off as well. Harry handed them each a few satchels. “These are much bigger on the inside and will hold lots of stuff. Rindyll, gather all the food you can, things that will keep, and also pots and kettles and other tools for cooking and eating. Just load them full with whatever you deem useful.” Then he turned to Valdis while Rindyll took off without further questions. “Take the hospital and load up on potions and herbs and bandages. Also, any tarps, blankets, clothes and other household goods you think will be useful on the road.”

“Were are we going?” Valdis asked as she inspected the satchels.

“Far, far away from here,” Harry replied with a huge grin.

“Good, that’s all I needed to know.” And with that, Valdis ran off as well, and Harry continued his journey to the library at a clipped pace.

Inside, he found Auntie Eustice explaining the situation to a few confused students. “Ah, I am glad to see you, nephew. For a moment I thought you’d forget to pack the books.”

“Never,” Harry said as he held open a new satchel and waved his hand around, summoning every last book in the room. The library wasn’t very big, since books were rather rare and expensive in Santika, but there had to be at least a thousand books there, and Harry guided them all inside his expanded bag.

When that room was empty as well, Harry ran towards an area he’d never set foot in, even when he had a very good idea what it looked like thanks to his family giving him their detailed descriptions over the years.

But before Harry could enter the basement, Broi got in the way.

“You,” Broi shouted, standing his ground while Harry halted his trek. “You did this. You killed the master.”

“Oh for…” Harry inhaled a deep breath and raised his hand. “Karakas killed himself, you fool. Stupefy.” Broi went down like a sack of boks and Harry ran around him and aimed his hand at the basement door. “Alohomora.”

The door opened with a soft click and Harry took the stone stairs as fast as he could. There were several doors there and even though Harry had a good idea which door housed what items, he did summon his dad to him with a swipe of his thumb over his amulet.

“This door,” James said, and then he pointed his fingers at the runes inscribed in the massive wooden door in the correct order they needed to be activated to open it. Harry pressed the staff against the runes one after the other, releasing a small amount of magic each time, activating them until the door clicked open.

Harry’s mouth sank open and he stared for what felt like ages as he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was seeing.

Gold. Gemstones. Silver. Jewellery. Piles and piles of it, chests overflowing and baskets toppled over with it.

So much wealth that it dazzled Harry and he just couldn’t wrap his head around how much treasure was stored there. He knew Karakas made good money renting out and selling kids, but he’d never appreciated how much exactly.

“Harry, hurry,” his dad said, though there was humour in his eyes as he smiled at Harry’s response to finally laying eyes on the treasure James had been telling him about since Harry was a little kid.

“Right, Accio,” Harry said with a grin and he opened another satchel as all the coins and gemstones and other riches came flying at him. At least they’d be able to pay for food and housing once they reached their destination, Harry figured, even if he wasn’t yet sure where that destination was going to be. First they had to keep out of Rylan’s hands and make it out of Misty Springs in one piece.

Speak of the devil. Patroclus came flying through the walls. “Rylan just got on his horse and is riding to the school.”

“Time to go.” Harry ran out the now empty room and was about to hurry up the stairs, but he halted in front of another door. It wasn’t warded and simply turning the doorhandle opened the door. Inside Harry saw the runic circle painted on the floor that had brought him and countless other children to this hellhole. Without a second thought, Harry aimed his hand and said, “Incendio.” Magical flames shot out and engulfed the floor and walls, and without looking back Harry finally ran up the stairs, shot another stupefy at Broi who was just sitting up and looking around in confusion, and then he exited the building through a side door as black smoke started rising up from the basement.

When he passed by the sleeping quarters, Harry aimed his hand in the direction of his own room and summoned his personal chest, which held his clothes, cloak, extra shoes, towels, some notes and whatever trinkets he’d collected over the years. He also summoned his bedlinens because some sheets would always come in handy. It all came flying at him through one of the many open windows and Harry stuffed it all in his satchel and then rushed towards the back courtyard where lots of people were already gathered, most carrying bundles of their own bedlinens with all their belongings stuffed inside. None of them had many personal items, but that made the things they did own all the more precious.

Rindyll and Valdis were there, and so were Genka and Vinka. There were about thirty or so children gathered, mostly the younger ones, who all looked around with wide, uncertain eyes.

“Where is the other staff?” Harry asked, as he removed a few more collars from some of the smallest children until all had been freed. “And the rest of the kids?” Harry slipped the collars inside a satchel as well, not wanting to leave them behind for Rylan to find.

“They’re planning on hiding in Shit Creek for a while,” Genka said with a shrug. “And then slip out of the city on the cargo boats when they can.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry said, looking around their group. Part of him wanted to run after the rest of the staff and children, explain things to them and bring them along, but there was no time because Rylan was on the move and Harry did not want to face him. Not now, when he only just got all his magic back after a lifetime of having it locked away by that fucking collar. “Then we shall hope that the sun goddess shines upon their journey.”

“Let her light their way,” Genka agreed and then Harry urged everyone to follow Henry and Bernadine, who were the most familiar with the smuggler’s path that started just behind the springs and that zigzagged almost straight up the mountain, a narrow, muddy path overgrown with vines and covered by surrounding trees, hiding it from view.

Rindyll and Valdis took the lead, together with most of Harry’s relatives, and Harry brought up the rear, looking over his shoulder constantly to make sure Rylan wasn’t yet gaining on them.

Patroclus had stayed behind to await Rylan, so Harry would know exactly when he’d reach the school.

“Hurry,” Harry called over the children’s heads every so often, to make sure everyone understood that this wasn’t a relaxing stroll through the countryside.

“He’s at the school and he is not happy with finding it all but deserted and on fire,” Patroclus said some thirty minutes later when he appeared beside Harry in a flash.

Harry nodded and urged everyone forward, through the wet foliage and across the muddy path, higher and higher up the side of the mountain and deeper into the jungle. Around them monkeys screeched and birds sang and children quietly cried because they had no idea what was happening, but they kept going, since whenever one of the kids was close to a meltdown, one of Harry’s relatives would speak with them, offering comfort and staying with them for a while to explain what they could.

“One of Rylan’s men who’s just arrived at the school knows about the smuggler’s path,” Patroclus said after what must have been two or three hours of steadily trekking through the wilderness. “They found your tracks and they’re in pursuit.”

“Fuck,” Harry muttered and called ahead. “Anyone who doesn’t want to die a most violent death had better get a fucking move on. Rylan Bloodstone is on our heels.”

That got people going in a hurry, at least for a while.

“Just a while longer, maybe an hour,” Bernadine came to tell Harry at some point. “There is a canyon ahead with a wooden bridge, just over the mountain top. After you cross it, you can destroy it.”

That gave Harry a brilliant idea, if he did say so himself, and from that moment on he waved his staff behind himself every minute or so and used his magic to bring down trees and break away pieces of the path, just to make it difficult for their pursuers to follow them. Rylan was a sorcerer and could probably fix it all with magic, but it would take time to do so and thus it would slow him down significantly.

And time was all they needed. Once they crossed the bridge, as Bernadine explained, there were several paths they could choose. As long as Harry erased their prints and other signs of their passage, it would be difficult for Rylan to follow them from there on out.

“Keep going, we’re almost at the bridge,” Harry shouted, just to keep everyone motivated. Some of the children were complaining that they were tired and hungry and thirsty, but Harry knew they couldn’t stop just yet. After another hour they finally summited the mountain and instead of climbing they could now walk down the other side, which helped them pick up their pace considerably. Before long they reached the canyon that cleaved the mountain in half and only a rickety hang bridge connected both sides.

“Go on!” Harry urged Valdis and Rindyll, who were eying the narrow, moss-covered bridge with suspicion. “I won’t let anyone fall, promise, but we have to cross it now!”

Finally, Rindyll stepped onto the bridge, holding onto the worn ropes with trembling hands, and crossed it with slow but steady steps. Valdis told a few of the smaller children to follow her and soon enough there was a steady stream of people walking across the bridge, which swung and creaked but held. Harry was the last to cross it, constantly looking over his shoulder, but apparently his attempts to sabotage the path had worked enough to slow down Rylan and his men that Harry never saw them once he’d crossed the bridge.

For a moment Harry was tempted to simply destroy the bridge with a Bombarda, but then he realized that would make it a lot easier for Rylan to repair the bridge if the wreckage was still there at the bottom of the canyon. Best to make sure there was nothing left to fix.

“Incendio!” Harry called and the whole bridge burst into vicious, magical flames. Harry watched it burn for a moment before hurrying after the others. From that moment on Harry made a very real effort to hide their tracks, because they were now taking one of the many paths that were available and Harry wanted to make it difficult for Rylan to figure out where they’d gone. And Harry quickly discovered that using a reparo charm worked best, since it fixed any broken branches and bent leaves and did away with any muddy footprints, leaving the jungle exactly as it had been before a few dozen people trampled through it.

A little over an hour after they’d crossed the bridge they came across a gentle stream with a small waterfall and Harry told everyone to take a rest. Rindyll dug through the satchel of food and produced bags of dried fruit and nuts so everyone could eat and keep their energy up. Harry crouched beside the stream and splashed water across his face before drinking several handfuls of it. The water was cold and sweet and perhaps the most delicious water Harry had ever tasted, but he realized that might also be because this was the first time in his life that he’d really been free. The Dursleys had already treated him like a slave and since arriving in Santika he’d been an actual slave.

But not anymore. As Harry sat beside the stream, gazing up at the many trees and vines around him, listening to a whole flock of colourful parrots squabble, he swore he would never be anyone’s slave ever again. And he was going to do whatever it took to make that happen, not just for himself but for his friends as well.

“We’ll continue until the rain comes,” Harry said after an hour. Some of the kids whined and groaned, but they all got up eventually and they resumed their trek through the jungle.

Occasionally Harry heard voices and at first he thought it was just people complaining.

”Watch where you’re going!"

”Do you have to make such a ruckus? I’m trying to sleep."

”Hey, I was tracking that rat and now you’ve chased it away!"

Harry slowed down a little as he tried to pinpoint where that last voice had come from. He didn’t think any of the kids ahead of him on the trail would complain about a missing rat, but then where were those soft voices coming from?

”Hello?” Harry finally called out as he looked around the bushes and trees, trying to make out any humanoid shapes. Had Rylan already caught up with them?

“Did you say something?” Fleamont asked as he floated closer to Harry.

“I keep hearing voices around us,” Harry said with a shrug as he picked up his pace again. “Mostly they’re complaining about us making too much noise and scaring away rats.”

“Well, I’ll have a look around,” Fleamont said and then offered Harry a dubious but kind smile. “Though perhaps it’s time to make camp for the night. And maybe get something to drink. You might be dehydrated.” And with that Fleamont floated off into the trees around them. He returned half an hour later. “I’ve checked the whole perimeter, Harry. There’s no one here, just the normal critters of the jungle.”

“All right, thanks,” Harry said and decided that maybe it would be a good idea to stop and have some rest if he was starting to hear illusionary voices. Since the bridge they’d been following a path going down the mountain and Harry kept an eye out for a patch of jungle that was reasonable flat and big enough to hold 40 people or so for the night.

They passed a stretch of jungle that seemed to fit their needs fifteen minutes later and when Harry peeked up through the thick canopy, what little he could see of the sky seemed to darken with oncoming thunderclouds, so it was time to stop and make some shelters anyway.

“All right, we’ll camp here for the night!” Harry’s announcement was met with many relieved noises from all the kids. The youngest children were tasked with collecting firewood. Really, whatever sticks they could find would do, since Harry would light the fires with magic anyway. The rest of the children were told to find the largest leaves they could reach so the adults could use magic to turn them into makeshift waterproof tents by gluing them together with magic.

Not that much later they had their camp set up and Genka and Vinka got several large cast iron pots full of boks porridge going over the fires. The smaller kids all simply sat down under the makeshift tents, exhausted from the day’s travel. Just when the porridge was done the sky opened but everyone kept dry. Harry quickly transfigured sticks and rocks into wooden spoons and bowls so everyone could have a hot bowl of porridge before they turned in for the night.

”Where is all this smoke coming from? I cannot smell a single bird anymore. Are the trees on fire? What is happening?”

Harry lowered his empty bowl and licked his spoon clean and then quickly got up to look for the person behind that voice. He’d heard it loud and clear, coming from just outside the tent. It was raining steadily, but Harry ignored it as he walked around the trees outside in the falling darkness.

”I haven’t eaten in two weeks, and now these monkeys are ruining everything."

There! Right in front of him. Harry pushed some of the leaves from the tent aside and he came face to face with a bright green snake curled around one of the thinner branches from the tree they were using as a post for their tent.

The snake raised its pointy head and stared at Harry. ”What do you want? I’m busy here."

“Er…” Harry blinked, not having expected to find a talking snake. Then again, what did he know about snakes, really? He’d never seen a real one, he didn’t think. The school and its grounds had been warded against them, since there were plenty of venomous snakes that packed truly impressive bites in the jungle around Misty Springs. And now Harry learned that there were also talking snakes to be found, apparently.

”Sorry to bother you,” Harry said, because it couldn’t hurt to be polite, even to a snake. ”But could you please tell me how it is you can talk?"

The snake didn’t seem very impressed as it looked Harry up and down. ”I was going to ask you the same thing. I’ve certainly never met a talking monkey before."

Before Harry could explain he wasn’t a monkey, a distressed sound came from behind him. As he turned around, he saw his mum and dad floating there, both looking like they’d seen a ghost, which was rather funny considering what they were.

“Harry,” Lily breathed, one hand covering her mouth in shock.

“How is this possible?” James said, shaking his head a few times before going back to staring at Harry with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“What?” Harry was genuinely confused why his parents were so obviously freaking out. “It’s just a talking snake. There’s plenty of them around here because I’ve been hearing them all day as it turns out.”

“No,” Lily said while giving Harry a smile that wavered as she tilted her head in confusion. “That’s a regular snake. You’re a parselmouth, but I don’t understand how that’s possible.”

“Could it be any of the magic he’s been learning here?” James wondered, looking at Lily. “Maybe becoming a necromancer allows him to speak parseltongue somehow?”

“I honestly don’t know. It doesn’t run in either of our families, as far as I know.” Lily floated a little closer to Harry. “It doesn’t matter, sweetheart. So you can talk to snakes. It’s bound to come in handy while trekking through the jungle.”

And his mother was right, of course. Though Harry was confused about his parents’ reactions at first, he eventually pushed it out of his mind. He had far more important things to worry about, after all. That very night a thick, constricting snake came sliding inside their tent, lured in by all the enticing scents of small children, no doubt. Harry had a firm talk with that snake and sent it on its way, and from that moment on he was the official snake wrangler of their group. Whenever someone spotted a snake anywhere, Harry was called to tell it to go away.

They continued their escape through the jungle for another three weeks, heading north, since south was just jungle all the way down to the ocean. Harry still remembered the maps he’d studied in detail. Plus Henry and Charlus scouted ahead for days to make sure they were going in the right direction and not accidentally circling back to Misty Springs or something equally horrifying. Eventually they’d leave the jungle behind and hit the plains where there were many towns and cities they could disappear in.

“Where are we going?” Rindyll asked every few days until it became something of a joke between them.

Harry shrugged and said, “We’ll know it when we see it.” And he was honestly convinced of that. Somewhere in Santika was a place where they could hide away from Rylan while living fulfilling lives. They just had to find it.

Thanks to Harry’s snake charming abilities, no one got bitten by one of them, but one little girl did receive a serious spider bite that made her hallucinate for an entire night. Thankfully, Genka and Valdis were good healers and managed to nurse the child back to health. They dealt with all sorts of minor injuries all the time. Cuts and bruises and the occasional sprained ankle. One boy got a fever that lasted for a few days, but Harry transfigured him a stretcher that he floated behind him while the boy slept so they could continue their journey.

They also started hunting, since they weren’t sure how long their journey would last and they wanted to ration their dried food as much as possible. Tree-rats were abundant. They were rodents the size of chickens with long tails and thick fur that lived in the canopy. Harry soon learned that summoning them from any direction always worked and every night they’d have four or five to clean so they could add them to the porridge. There were also lots of small deer the size of medium dogs running through the undergrowth that were delicious roasted over the fire. One time Harry spotted a large animal that resembled a wild pig but its nose was long and agile and it had white stripes on its black fur. Whatever it was, it kept them fed for a week. Boks grew plentifully around them so even when their dried stores ran out they could find enough fresh boks to keep them all well-fed.

At first Harry had been unsure how to catch and skin an animal, and none of his living companions had any idea either, but Auntie Eustice had an encyclopaedic knowledge of pretty much everything, and Henry and Bernadine had been outdoor enthusiasts and avid campers in life and knew plenty about how to survive in the wild.

There was also plenty of ripe fruit to be found. Bloodfruit, which had thick skin you had to peel to reveal the bright red, juicy fruit, and honey-eggs, a type of golden berry that grew in large clusters on abundant vines and which tasted like honey.

They washed in the many little streams and curling rivers they encountered and that’s when they also cleaned their clothes, which inevitably got muddy while trekking through the jungle.

Fires kept them warm and it also kept the larger predators away. They could hear wolves howl from time to time but they never saw them. They did see tracks of bears on the paths they traversed, and of a valter, which was a large, man-eating cat with stripes that could also climb trees. Lily said it looked a bit like a mix of a tiger and a leopard when she spotted one near their camp one night. Whatever it was, it liked to stalk them after dark and they often found tracks around their camp in the morning, but their wards kept them safe.

All throughout the weeks they travelled Harry tried his very best not to think about Rylan, though he often found his thoughts going in the direction of that man when he was lulled into a state of meditation while quietly walking for miles each day.

Thinking of Rylan filled Harry with many conflicting thoughts and feelings. He was disgusted with the man and with himself for everything he’d done. Rylan was a rapist and a murderer and yet there were times Harry missed him.

Harry was free, as he’d always wanted to be, but sometimes, in the dark at night when he was trying to sleep on the damp floor of the jungle, Harry felt an overwhelming wave of fear for having to stand on his own two feet, for having to make all the decisions for himself from then on.

What if he messed it up? What if he was leading the people around him to a much worse fate than what Karakas and his school had in store for them.

Life had been so much simpler when he’d been Rylan’s little pet project. Let the man fuck him, have a few orgasms himself, and learn magic from the man.

Simple. Nothing to think about.

Nothing to fear.

Except that wasn’t true, now was it? Harry had everything to fear from the man. Everyone had everything to fear from Rylan Bloodstone and his torturous, murderous ways.

So Harry kept walking in the opposite direction, as far away from Rylan as his feet could carry him, no matter what his treacherous mind whispered in the dead of the night.

Eventually, after weeks and weeks, the jungle made way for more temperate forests that slowly lost their density and included more meadows and grassy hills, with cool winds that swept through their camps at night. They used the furs and skins they’d kept from all the animals they’d hunted to make warm boots and scarves and gloves. All the blankets and sheets were used to create trousers, since all of them were dressed only in knee-high tunics, which were fine in a warm rainforest but far too cold in the open plains. Harry learned how to transfigure several types of natural materials into simple wool sweaters, which they could wear over their tunics, while their waterproof cloaks helped keep the wind out while they walked. The sheets of canvas Harry found inside the expandable satchel full of fabrics were used to create real tents, with thick branches used as poles, since they could no longer rely on finding enough large leaves to create makeshift shelters every night.

The rains also changed, from warm, fat drops to cool, sharp pricks that felt like it might cut their faces open from time to time.

They passed through a few small settlements, hardly large enough to even call a village. Harry bought some bread, root vegetables and salted meat for a few copper coins that kept them fed for a few days. They ran out of boks but found out that the many rivers they crossed were filled with all kinds of edible fish and crustaceans that Harry could easily summon, so from that moment on they ate a lot of fish stew.

“Where are we going?” Rindyll asked yet again with a crooked smile as she dipped a chunk of dark bread in her bowl of stew.

“We’ll know it when we see it,” Harry replied, as always, not realizing that they’d see it sooner than expected.

“Just ahead, a few miles,” Fleamont said the next morning as he and Charlus returned from scouting ahead. “Over that hill.”

“What?” Harry asked, equal parts worried and excited.

“Just go. You’ll see it,” Fleamont said with a huge smile.

Harry urged everyone on in the direction his grandfather pointed at and they trekked up the hill as quickly as they could. Over the weeks they’d all built up enough muscles and improved their physical condition, even the smaller children, that climbing a hill was hardly a challenge anymore. Once Harry crested the hill he looked out over the valley before them and gasped in surprise.

They saw a huge caravan of people, a few hundred of them at least, all moving along in a procession of people on foot, some on horseback, with many carts pulled by enormous pankies. There were flags and banners everywhere, all depicting some sort of version of the sun.

“They’re Mardigans,” Harry said, unable to hold back a smile.

“What?” Rindyll asked in confusion as she stood beside him.

“I’ve read about them,” Harry explained to the others as they joined him. “They’re ritual worshippers of the sun goddess Mar. They travel from town to town, performing rituals of blessings and prosperity and such. You can also hire them to bless a birth or marriage. They don’t accept money in payment, just things like food and clothing, whatever people can spare.”

“They’ve got potential,” Valdis said with a shrewd look.

“Exactly,” Harry agreed with a huge grin. “They’re peaceful and they’ll probably be happy to accept a bunch of kids in their midst that need a new home.”

Before they walked down the hill to join the procession, Harry and the other adults had a very serious talk with the kids.

“Tell no one where you really come from. If someone asks, tell them the orphanage burned down and that you can’t remember the name of the city. And tell no one about magic. Our lives depend on it, understood?”

Harry received many solemn nods in reply, but when he, for the first time since they’d escaped, cut off power to his relatives so they weren’t visible to others anymore, he was faced with many pouting and crying children, since Harry’s relatives had spent lots of time looking after the kids and they were well-liked by everyone.

“You’ll make new friends, meet new people who will help you,” Harry quickly said, waving towards the long line of people walking across the grassy valley. “Now we have to hurry or we’ll have a hard time catching up.”

And with a spring in his step Harry all but ran down the hill, exceptionally relieved they’d found a nice bunch of people that could look after the small children in the long run.

“Greetings, travellers. The sun goddess has shone upon your path to bring you to us,” a man with brown skin and bright blue eyes said when they reached the caravan of people.

“Yes, she has blessed us indeed,” Harry said with a friendly smile. “We were hoping to join you and help spread Mar’s blessings.”

“All are welcome here,” the man said. “I am Benko.”

“Harry. That’s Rindyll, Valdis, Genka and Vinka. Nice to meet you.” Harry felt like a huge weight had just slipped off his shoulders, now that they had found a group of friendly people to join.

“Food carts are up ahead. When we stop for the night they’ll provide us with a hot meal.” Benko spent the next hour explaining the ways of the Mardigans and it was pretty much as Harry had read. They were a peaceful, religious people who travelled to spread Mar’s blessings around and they were accepted in just about every city they visited. For most settlements it was an annual event, the arrival of the Mardigans, that was celebrated with songs and dances and some alcohol as well, of course.

It took very little time for them to fit in with the Mardigans. There were plenty of families with children there, and when word spread that Harry and friends were orphans made homeless when their orphanage burned down, plenty of people were willing to adopt one or two of the small children into their own families and before long all the small children previously in Harry’s care had found new parents.

“It’s the best possible outcome,” Valdis said one evening after they’d finished their meal of vegetable stew provided by the dozens of food carts and cooks that could be found around the busy camp.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. The Mardigans seemed a decent people, at the very least, and Harry knew the small kids would be better off with new parents than sticking with him. They’d looked after the kids during their escape, of course, but Harry hadn’t felt any close bond with them, nor a desire to care for them for the rest of their lives. No, this was better. Harry had too much on his plate to worry about thirty small children for years to come.

Valdis then got up to flirt with Benko some more. She seemed to genuinely like the man, even if he was twenty years her senior, and Benko appeared to have a bit of a crush on her as well, if his lovesick smile was any indication. Genka and Vinka were a couple, which had become apparent during their journey, and thankfully the Mardigans had no problems with two people of the same sex in a relationship. Genka and Vinka had adopted three of the kids they were closest with and formed a new but happy family.

That left Harry and Rindyll as they odd couple out in some ways. They still planned to stay with the Mardigans for a good long while because blending in with their crowd offered them good protection.

Unfortunately, that protection wasn’t good enough when the person hunting you was a necromancer.

One night, while Harry just laid down in his small tent on the outskirts of the camp, Rylan showed up out of the blue.

Well, a translucent, non-corporal Rylan floated inside the tent, scaring the shit out of Harry.

After releasing a slightly hysterical shriek, Harry stared at his enemy in disbelief. “Are you dead?”

“No need to sound so happy with my demise, my boy,” Rylan said, his shimmering face breaking out into a sharp grin. “Sadly, though, I have to disappoint you. I’m not dead, I’m merely casting my soul towards you so we can have a little chat.”

Harry’s heart hammered in his chest, his mind going a thousand miles a minute trying to figure out what to do, all while Harry sat still and stared at Rylan.

“I’ve rounded up most of Lord Carcass’ kids that fled to Shit Creek,” Rylan said in the same kind of bored tone one might use to describe the growth rate of boks. “I’ve used up those that I could and the rest has been put to work in the castle.”

“Used up,” Harry said, narrowing his eyes. Since Rylan wasn’t there in body, Harry’s confidence returned, knowing Rylan couldn’t actually hurt him. “You mean murdered.”

“Harry,” Rylan said, looking at Harry as if he was a disobedient toddler that deserved a spanking. “Why do you care about the cattle? The sheep? Because that is what they are.” Rylan waved a translucent hand towards the encampment outside Harry’s tent. “We are better than them. Why shouldn’t we use them?”

“Because they’re just kids and it’s wrong,” Harry said with conviction. He’d never forgotten the sight of Roy’s battered dead body. Roy had deserved so much better than that. “Why do you kill them anyway? It can’t be for sex. You’ve fucked me plenty of times without any murder and you seemed to get off just fine.”

Rylan threw his head back and laughed, long and loud. “You are right, my boy. I enjoy fucking the little ones, but I don’t have to kill them to get off.” Rylan fingered the stone that hung around his neck. “I use their lives for other purposes.”

“What purposes?” Harry asked eagerly.

Rylan’s look was almost condescending. “Now why would I tell you that, you little traitor? I treated you better than anyone, I taught you all I know, and still you fled with your tail between your legs at the first opportunity.”

Harry shrugged and gave Rylan an even stare. “Better a traitor than a slave.”

“What an ignorant little fool you are, Harry.” Rylan’s twisted smile promised several things, none of them pleasant. “And once I catch up with you, I will teach you the error of your ways, mark my words. But for now I need the ritual.”

“What ritual?” Harry asked, genuinely confused. As it stood, Rylan knew a hell of a lot more rituals than Harry did.

In a flash Rylan sat almost on top of Harry, his face pressed as close to Harry’s as it could without actually touching him. “The ritual to summon magical children here, you fool!”

“Er…” Harry blinked at Rylan while his mind was working overtime trying to figure out where that ritual went. “I don’t have it,” Harry said, keep his voice as steady as he could because he’d just remembered the pile of paperwork Karakas had given him right before his suicide. On top of that, Harry had taken every book and scroll from Karakas’ office anyway. He just hadn’t examined any of the contents of that satchel yet, since he’d been a little busy surviving in the jungle.

Rylan seemed to smell Harry as he moved his face up and down as he stared into Harry’s eyes. “You lie. I know it.”

“Didn’t the school burn down?” Harry offered with smug little smile. “Whatever was kept in the school has been destroyed, I’m guessing.”

“Hear me, boy,” Rylan said, his silvery eyes blazing. “I am coming for you and I will get that ritual. For your sake, Harry, I sincerely hope you still have it because you won’t like what I’ll do to you if you don’t.”

Harry gulped before he could stop himself because that was a threat that made Harry more than a little nervous. Before he could reply, Rylan’s translucent form shimmered and dissipated, leaving Harry sitting in the darkness of his tent on the brink of hyperventilation.

“Fuck,” Harry muttered, running both hands across his face. “Fuck, fuck.”

Rylan had a way to track him, because he’d found Harry, even if it was just by casting his soul out of his own body. And who even knew Rylan could do this? How did it even work?

Harry was screwed and he knew it. He needed to flee, lead Rylan away from the others, because if Rylan found the Mardigans, he’d kill every last one of them just to weed out the magical children so he could eventually fuck them to death.

But most importantly, Harry needed to know everything he could about that ritual Rylan wanted so badly. And Harry knew just who to call.

Brushing his thumb across his amulet, Harry pictured the familiar face of his devoted mentor and focused on summoning a new soul.

“Karakas,” Harry ordered once his dead master floated in front of him. “Tell me everything you know about Rylan Bloodstone and the ritual you used to summon us here.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

If Karakas was surprised to find himself summoned by his favourite pupil, he didn’t show it. As Karakas seemed to gather himself, Harry brushed his thumb across the amulet a few more times to summon his family, since he was sure they’d all desperately wanted to learn the truth as well. It was a little cramped to have his entire family squeezed around him in the small tent, but they all seemed to realize that Karakas being there meant they would finally get some answers.

“It’s all my fault,” Karakas muttered while Harry waited patiently for him to find the right words. “I thought I was saving magic, but I was only saving that monster.”

Harry pursed his lips, tempted to force Karakas to hurry up already, but understanding that some explanations simply took time.

“For Merlin’s sake, man, just spit it out!” Auntie Eustice, as it turned out, wasn’t nearly as patient as her great-nephew.

Karakas swallowed while giving Auntie Eustice a brief, wary glance. “He used me, like he used everyone. The Sun Goddess alone knows for how long. Decades. Perhaps even centuries.”

Harry leaned forward to give Karakas a piercing look. “You mean Rylan?”

“That’s what he calls himself nowadays, yes.” Karakas stared at the floor, ignoring Harry entirely, lost in his own memories it seemed. “I first knew him as Arwan the Ancient, though I only recently pieced together the truth about Arwan’s identity and schemes.”

“What schemes?” Patroclus demanded in a harsh voice not out of place on a former Auror interrogating a suspect.

Karakas chuckled, but it was a brittle, bitter sound. “He had everyone fooled, everyone wrapped up in his own selfish plans, and none even knew it.”

“Perhaps a little less cryptic,” Euphemia said with all the kindness in the world.

“Arwan is a necromancer the likes this world has never before seen,” Karakas said, his faraway gaze finally sharpening as looked around the tent. “But he is not nearly as powerful or talented at other branches of magic. He’s the one who gave me the idea for starting a magical school, and he’s the one who encouraged me to create a ritual to summon magical children from other worlds.” Karakas looked down for a second, his face tightening up in a grimace. “I’ve always been very good at summoning, so creating a ritual like that was within my capabilities.”

“What did Rylan need all those magical children for?” Harry asked, unable to contain himself because that was something that he’d wanted an answer to for a long time.

“Immortality.” Karakas paused, as though giving everyone else a moment to let that sink in. “That’s what everything has been about. It was Arwan that started the mistrust between warlords and sorcerers, to use that as an excuse for him to hunt down magical children. He needs young, magical children to fuel the ritual that keeps him youthful and immortal.”

“He ran out of kids,” Harry blurted, sitting up a little as everything fell into place and suddenly made sense.

“Exactly,” Karakas said with a proud little smile. Even in death he seemed happy to see Harry learn, as he’d always been in life. “Arwan worked his way through the magical population of Santika for what I suspect might have been centuries, and eventually he couldn’t find enough magical children to keep himself youthful. When I met him, he truly was at death’s door.”

“So he manipulates you to summon kids and create a school, all to supposedly save magic, while in reality he just wanted to use more and more magical kids to keep himself alive.” Harry looked around at his family, thinking that their shocked expressions probably mirrored his own.

“Once he’d gotten his hands on a few kids early on he regained enough youth and strength to worm his way into Bram the Red’s court so he could stay close to the school and an endless supply of fresh children.” Karakas shook his head, face full of regret. “I’m sure he’s the one who manipulated Bram into demanding children to fuck, so he’d have a way to access them without raising suspicions.”

Harry sat in silence while everyone else did the same, letting the truth, horrible and unbelievable as it was, finally sink in. Rylan Bloodstone had been pulling everyone’s strings for years and years, all for his personal gain and at the cost of hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent lives. And now he commanded an army and was determined to track Harry down.

“He was here earlier,” Harry whispered, causing several of his family members to gasp in surprise and alarm. “He’d cast his soul here, and he demanded the summoning ritual.”

“Harry, you mustn’t give it to him,” Karakas said in an urgent, tight voice while giving Harry a pleading look.

“I know,” Harry said, dread swirling around his stomach as he remembered Rylan’s very convincing threats. “I’ll destroy it.”

“Harry,” Lily whispered, and Harry was sure she was thinking the same thing he was. If he destroyed the summoning ritual they might never be able to use it to send Harry back to the wizarding world someday. Interestingly, it had always been James and Lily, and a few of Harry’s other family members, who had fixated on the idea of Harry ‘going home’. As far as Harry was concerned, though, he was already home. He enjoyed hearing the stories about the wizarding world, but he didn’t have an emotional connection to it like the rest of his family did.

As far as Harry was concerned he was happy to spend the rest of his life in Santika. Well, as long as he could get rid of Rylan Bloodstone forever, that was.

“I’ll destroy it,” Harry said again, this time with all the conviction he could muster. He knew he had to, no matter Rylan’s dire threats. If he didn’t and Rylan got his hands on the full ritual, the consequences would be truly dreadful and thousands of children would end up brutally murdered to keep one monster alive.

“Thank you,” Karakas whispered, head bent down. “I had not the strength to do it.”

Harry simply nodded in response, now understanding why his mentor had done what he’d done and why he’d killed himself in the end. Discovering the truth and his own inadvertent role in it must have devastated Karakas to the point of true despair.

“Harry?” Rindyll sounded as though she was standing right outside the tent. Harry had his tent warded that no one could listen to the sounds from within, but he could hear outside noises just fine. “Are you in there?”

Harry brushed his thumb across the amulet to send his family and mentor away. He had enough information for now and he knew what he needed to do first thing.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Harry pushed open the flap and looked up at Rindyll’s smiling face. He’d have to leave her behind. Rindyll had taken very well to living with the Mardigans and Harry couldn’t remember ever seeing her this happy and relaxed before.

“Valdis and Benko have started an impromptu deks tournament,” Rindyll said, eyes shining with joy. Deks was a game of dice that was popular amongst the Mardigans and Benko had taught them all how to play it. “Do you want in? We can partner up.”

“Tempting,” Harry said and waved Rindyll inside the small tent. “But unfortunately I have more important things to take care of.” Harry hated ruining his best friend’s good mood, but he also didn’t want to lie to her. “Rylan found me.”

Rindyll’s face predicably paled and she sat back with a gasp. “How?”

“Necromancy. He cast his soul here.” Harry proceeded to tell Rindyll all that had happened and all that he’d learned from Karakas while he dug through his many expanded satchels to find the ritual Karakas had handed to him right before he killed himself.

“Harry,” Rindyll said slowly, eyes wide as she stared at him while Harry made sure he had every last scroll and book that pertained to the summoning ritual. “We can’t stay here. We can’t endanger everyone.”

Harry blinked and looked up at Rindyll in surprise. “We?”

Rindyll’s expression got stuck somewhere between exasperated and amused. “Of course. We’ll leave.”

Unexpectedly Harry’s throat closed up and he had to clear it a few times before he was able to speak. “You can stay here,” he finally offered his best friend. While he loved the idea of Rindyll coming with him, he also wanted her to be happy and live a life of peace. She’d find none of that if she went on the run with him. “You can be happy here, find someone special like Valdis has.”

Rindyll’s eyes darkened, her brows furrowed. “It’s nice here, sure. But it’s not real. It doesn’t feel real.” She looked at Harry with pleading eyes. “In all my life you are the only real thing that’s ever existed for me.”

Harry stayed quiet while he processed that revelation. Then he reminded himself that while he grew up with his whole family, dead as they were, Rindyll had only ever had him after Roy had been murdered.

“Besides,” Rindyll said, a sly smile appearing on her sunburned face. “If our roles were reversed, would you stay behind while I went on the run?”

“Of course not,” Harry said at once, almost insulted at the very idea. Then he chuckled. “Point taken. We need to burn this.”

“The ritual?” Rindyll waited for Harry to nod a confirmation and then her face became set in a harsh mask. “Yes, let’s burn it right now.”

They started a small fire right beside Harry’s tent, and since evening was falling there were many fires burning all around the massive camp so no one took notice what they were doing. Together Harry and Rindyll dropped scroll after scroll of the summoning ritual into the hungry flames and watched quietly as every scrap of knowledge of the magic that had brought them to Santika was lost forever. Harry had never looked at any of the information, so no one could torture it out of him. Karakas was the only one at the school who had known all the details of the ritual so none of the former staff members knew it completely either.

“That’s a lot of children saved,” Harry whispered while the last book burned to ashes in front of them. Rindyll wrapped herself around Harry’s arm and pressed her face against his shoulder while they both waited for the flames to die down. Harry vanished the hot ashes until not a single speck remained.

Without pause they gathered their belongings and packed their tents and then Harry went in search of Valdis. He found her in the midst of a rowdy game of deks which was thankfully coming to an end. Harry gestured at her to follow him to a quieter part of the camp.

“We’re leaving,” Harry said without preamble. “Rylan is coming for me.”

Valdis didn’t seem at all shocked by this information, but then again she’d always been a very pragmatic and realistic person. “Lead him away from here.”

“That’s the plan.” Harry gave her a small, crooked smile. “If we ever get rid of him we’ll find you all again.”

“We’ll be here,” Valdis said, pulled him in a brief hug, flicked her fingers against Harry’s forehead and turned around to go back to the game.

“We’re going to apparate,” Harry said once they were well away from the camp, engulfed in the falling darkness.

Rindyll’s look was entirely dubious what Harry could see from it.

“I’ve been practicing,” Harry said in an attempt to ensure her. And he had been, under the careful eye of Dorea and Bernadine, who had spent many hours teaching him during their many weeks of travelling. His family had deemed it something Harry had to learn now that he was free and needed to be able to move away in a hurry.

Harry took hold of Rindyll’s hand, held on tight and focussed on the edge of a large forest they’d passed a few days earlier. That would give them plenty of shelter for the night. He focused, gathered his magic and apparated them with a quiet plop.

Rindyll had to inhale a few deep breaths before she could regain her balance but they both made it in one piece, much to Harry’s relief.

They decided to set up just one tent a short distance in the forest so as not to draw any unnecessary attention. They put up their usual wards and then they retired for the night and lay together in the darkness, the wind rustling the canvas above them.

“I’m scared,” Rindyll whispered, her hand finding Harry’s under the blanket.

“Me too,” Harry agreed quietly. He really did not want to think about what Rylan would do to him should he find them.

“Harry.” Rindyll’s hand moved across Harry’s body until it slipped inside Harry’s linen trousers.

Harry blinked, unable to move while he stared up with wide eyes seeing nothing at all.

“I’ve never fucked anyone I’ve actually liked,” Rindyll said, lifting herself up a little while her hand closed around Harry’s hardening cock. “I want you to fuck me.”

For a few moments Harry’s mind warred with his more than willing body. This was Rindyll, his best friend, the closest thing he had to a sibling. But she was also a young woman, pretty and smart, and Harry would be lying if he hadn’t enjoyed the sight of her naked body whenever they bathed together in the springs during the last couple of years.

Rindyll’s lips found his own in the darkness, and Harry answered her kiss, as clumsy as it was, and then there were hands tugging on their clothes while they shifted positions until they were both naked and Harry kneeled between Rindyll’s spread legs. He couldn’t see her, only feel her hot skin against his own, but that only made it all the more intimate as he slid inside her welcoming body. She was hot and wet and Harry groaned at this new feeling.

He’d enjoyed having Rylan fuck him, but this was a whole new experience and Harry decided that he liked it plenty.

They moved together in the darkness, with eager kisses and wet noises and soft moans until Harry couldn’t hold back anymore and he came with a quiet grunt. Afterwards Rindyll showed Harry where to touch her so she could come as well and Harry rubbed her clit until she moaned and trembled in his arms when she found her release.

Harry held his best friend and while a part of him was surprised this had happened, another part of him realized perhaps this had been inevitable. They were the best of friends, the only person that truly mattered to the other and now they were on the run and didn’t have any chances of a normal life anytime soon.

Who else was Harry going to love?

“I think you have to walk the deathlands,” Rindyll said out of the blue, her voice very loud in the quiet darkness around them. “If you ever want to defeat Rylan, you have to walk the deathlands and become a real necromancer.”

Harry swallowed audibly and tightened his arms around Rindyll. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” In fact, he was pretty sure that was what he had to do but the idea of literally entering the realm between the living and the dead genuinely scared him. “I’ll ask Karakas to teach me all he knows about it. Once I’m 17 I should be able to.”

“I’ll help where I can,” Rindyll said and then she raised her head and kissed him again, and before long Harry found himself lying flat on his back with Rindyll riding his cock while he slowly sank into the blissful oblivion only sex could bring.

And that became their life over the following weeks and months. Every morning Harry apparated them to a new spot where they set up their small camp. They survived off any game and fish they could catch and any edible plants and fungi they could find. From time to time they ventured into small towns to buy some bread and cheese, some root crops like carrots and turnips, some clothing as the weather turned cold, and some other small necessities.

Karakas turned out to be eager to teach Harry every last thing he knew about walking the deathlands, and he even instructed them on creating more runic tattoos to help guide Harry along the way. Rindyll got a crash course in tattooing and she did a fine job in covering Harry in runes of protection, strength, guidance, power and much, much more. Auntie Eustice knew exactly which books from the library Harry had hidden away held more helpful information and before long both Harry and Rindyll knew more about walking the deathlands than they’d ever thought possible.

With the help and instruction of his family Harry managed to transform their tent from a small, cramped space into a large, comfortable home. He enlarged the inside, created several rooms within the tent, including a bathroom with toilet and bathtub much to both their delight, as they both missed bathing daily in the warm springs of their old school. He transfigured an old tree stump into a woodstove for cooking and heating, and he even turned branches into bookshelves to house some of the many books they had in heir possession.

The bed he created for them got an awful lot of use as they fucked several times a day, randy teenagers that they were. Harry learned that he loved having his cock sucked and that he equally loved eating Rindyll’s wet cunt out until he had her coming multiple times on his tongue.

The sex was great and distracting and comfortable and yet…Harry tried not to, but he also couldn’t help compare it to his time with Rylan and something always seemed to be missing whenever he fucked Rindyll though he couldn’t explain what it was.

It didn’t matter in the end, though. He loved Rindyll and he loved fucking her in every position they could come up with and he’d be happy to spend the rest of his life with her.

Rindyll seemed equally as happy with the arrangement, even though neither one of them saw the need to name it, to give their relationship any official legitimacy that way. There was no need for any of that, since they both already knew they were the most important person to the other.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” Lily said one sunny spring day.

Harry blinked at her while he stood stirring a pot of porridge on the wood stove.

“At least I think it’s your birthday,” Lily said, causing James to snicker beside her. “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure, because time seems meaningless to the dead. Not to mention time moves very strangely in your world.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m 17 now.” Harry did some quiet calculations in his head and concluded that he had aged to the point of magical adulthood by now no matter when his birthday fell in the strange timeline of Santika.

“You probably shouldn’t wait too much longer,” James said with a knowing look. His parents were well aware of Harry’s new relationship with Rindyll and they approved of this development, or so Harry assumed. They’d certainly never spoken against it.

Harry knew his father was right. Every day he waited with walking the deathlands was another chance of Rylan to catch up with him and Harry stood no chance against the monster as he was now. He needed the power that came with becoming a true necromancer and even then he wasn’t sure if he could go up against someone as old and experienced as Rylan Bloodstone.

The oatmeal porridge was done and they had a quiet breakfast. Rindyll seemed to sense that Harry needed to be alone with his thoughts for a while and didn’t talk to him while she cleaned up the dishes and folded some freshly washed and dried clothes.

Harry stood in the opening of the tent and gazed outside, at the landscape filled with rolling hills and large rocks. They were camped in a deserted part of the large plains in the north, mostly because the uneven landscape was littered with boulders everywhere, some the size of houses. People grazed cattle or sheep there during the summer months on the long grass and thorny bushes, but no one bothered building any permanent settlements in the unwelcoming environment.

There was no use putting if off any longer, Harry knew that. Still, his stomach rolled with nerves as he sipped on a cup of herbal tea. He was as prepared as he was ever going to be. Stalling now wouldn’t make him better equipped to walk the deathlands. It would only give Rylan more time to find them.

“Let’s do it tonight,” Harry said out loud, and Rindyll was by his side in seconds, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“All right,” Rindyll whispered against the side of his face as she pulled him into a hug from behind. “Let’s get the ritual circle set up then.”

And that’s what they did for the rest of the day. Under the careful eye of Karakas and Auntie Eustice and the rest of Harry’s family, Harry and Rindyll set about creating the circle that would allow Harry to enter the deathlands. They carved runes into the soil, placed candles and crystals and gemstones strategically around the circle and sacrificed a few hares and partridges that they caught, dripping their blood over the runes.

Before the sun fell, Harry dismissed his family and fucked Rindyll right there in the grass beside the ritual circle, to hopefully help him relax and to ensure Rindyll he loved her and he’d come back for her no matter what.

They had a light meal of fish soup and some leftover bread while the sun set and when it was completely dark Harry took off his clothes and let Rindyll paint more runes onto his naked skin with a mixture of blood and the dust of ground human bones and a few choice herbs. Afterwards, he carefully got dressed in his warmest and most durable clothes. Apparently the deathlands were a frosty, chilly place.

A small fire burned beside the circle to help them see. Harry packed up their tent and everything else, just in case things went wrong in the deathlands and they had to leave in a hurry once Harry made it back to the land of the living. They’d read a few accounts of necromancers accidentally pulling demons through with them who instantly attacked the moment they arrived.

“You’ll be fine,” Rindyll said with an encouraging smile, blue eyes flickering in the light of the flames. “You’re strong, Harry.”

“I’ll come back, I promise.” Harry pressed a soft kiss to her lips before inhaling a deep, steadying breath.

“I’ll be waiting.” Rindyll kept smiling as Harry stepped into the circle and at once every hair on his body stood on end at the feel of this cold, dark magic surrounding him. Harry started chanting, forcing his mind to focus on the right words. He was strong. He could do this. He’d been learning and preparing his entire life for this moment, or so it felt.

Slowly a portal started growing in front of Harry, a small black disc that swirled as it expanded. Harry continued his chant for many long moments even as goosebumps broke out all across his skin and his stomach filled with an immediate sense of dread as the portal grew until it was large enough to allow a man to pass through.

This was it. This would make or break him, Harry was sure. Either he’d make it through this challenge and gain enough strength to eventually face down Rylan or he’d be lost forever in between life and death. Well, as his family liked to remind him, Harry was descended from a long line of brave Gryffindors, so there was only one way to go and that was forward.

With a final glance at Rindyll, who stood staring at him with a small smile and shining eyes, Harry stepped forward through the portal.

It felt as though he’d just stepped inside a vacuum and Harry’s ears popped as he looked around to make sure there were no immediate threats waiting for him.

The deathlands looked exactly like the plains from which he came, except that everything was grey and frozen and lifeless. It was as though he’d stepped into an alternate version of Santika, one which was devoid of all life and colour and warmth.

Well, not all life, as Harry soon found out.

Beside him hovered a figure, tall and vaguely humanoid but without any distinguishing features.

“Hello?” Harry waited patiently but while the figure did seem to turn in his direction, it gave no audible reply.

Far off, behind some of the larger boulders, something scuttled. Harry snapped his gaze towards it and saw a pair of little red lights, soon followed by another pair and another.

They were eyes, Harry realized with a silent gasp. There were beings all around him, staring at him and the shade beside him.

The noise of many small feet with sharp nails scraping across the rocky soil sounded strangely far-off and tinny even though he creatures were advancing towards him at an alarming rate.

Harry raised his hand, opal clutched firmly in his palm, a curse ready on the tip of his tongue, even though he wasn’t sure what beasts were approaching him or if his magic worked in the deathlands at all.

“Oh, away with you!” a strangely echoing voice suddenly sounded from his right before a new figure popped into existence beside Harry, sending the beasts scurrying in all directions. The shape was indistinct, though at the same time it seemed human, yet also decidedly not. Harry blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Perhaps his human eyes weren’t made to perceive the inhabitants of the deathlands properly.

Two more shapes popped into place, identical to the first, though also different enough that Harry could tell them apart.

Harry blinked again, tempted to rub his eyes but he didn’t want to occupy his hands in case he had to defend himself.

“There’s two!” Figure two said, in a voice that was neither male nor female, but also both.

“Indeed there are,” Figure three agreed, leaning closer to study both Harry and the dark shade beside him, who apparently wasn’t a deathlands local at all, as Harry had presumed. “How curious.”

“A soul who carries an extra soul, who would even think of such a thing,” Figure one said in a voice that seemed extraordinarily pleased to have made such a discovery. “You are certainly an interesting two.”

“Excuse me,” Harry said, unable to contain his burning curiosity. “But what do you mean? This one isn’t with me.” Harry gestured to the dark shade beside him who Harry was sure didn’t belong to him.

There was a short moment of silence and then all three figures started laughing, loudly and rather obnoxiously if Harry was honest.

“He doesn’t know,” Figure two said with a snicker.

“He doesn’t know!” Figure one agreed with a cackle.

“You two,” Figure three sniggered as though Harry had just told the most hilarious joke. “Stuck together forever and ever and he doesn’t even know.”

Harry glanced at the dark shade beside him again, seriously concerned now what and who it could be, seeing as it had apparently been stuck to him forever and ever. The shade, surprisingly, also seemed shocked at this development because it seemed to vibrate with something as it floated closer to the figures in a rather threatening manner.

“Oh, hush,” Figure one said once they’d all stopped laughing and calmed down. “You are just a slice of soul, you hold no power here.”

“Just a tiny sliver,” Figure two agreed.

“But still yours,” Figure three added pointedly.

“What an interesting two you are. So young, so powerful.” Figure one leaned a little closer to Harry, almost as if they were smelling him. “So scared, so hunted.”

“But not alone,” Figure two said, also leaning closer. “Surrounded by death.”

“Touched by death,” Figure three concluded and as one all the figures hummed in agreement.

“Yes, touched by death, surrounded by death,” Figure one said as they slowly circled around Harry and the shade.

“Worthy,” Figure two said, much to Harry’s relief. It seemed the figures were judging him, as was the purpose of a first visit to the deathlands, so being thought of as worthy must be a good thing.

“Yes, worthy,” Figure three agreed. “But young.”

“In need of guidance,” Figure one concluded with a firm nod.

“Make that one the guide,” Figure two suggested, gesturing towards the shade. “That one is older.”

“Too small to be a person,” Figure three said in a voice that sounded just a bit regretful.

“But perfect for a guide.” Figure one seemed to reach into the darkness around them and pulled a large, limp bird out of nowhere.

“In you go,” Figure two said, but when the shade didn’t move, they sighed, grabbed the shade and all but yanked it towards the bird.

“Perfect,” Figure three said, once the shade was gone and the bird was flapping large, frantic wings.

“Two souls, together forever,” Figure one said as it urged the bird to hop onto Harry’s shoulder.

Harry, for the most part, felt rather overwhelmed by all these new developments. Apparently he’d had a soul stuck to him who was now stuffed into a large bird and would be his guide. A guide for what Harry hadn’t a clue.

“Come back now,” Figure three said with a friendly little wave.

“Yes, visit again, young necromancer.” Figure one pushed against Harry’s chest and Harry fell backwards and before he knew what had happened he sat inside the circle back in the land of the living.

The bird on his shoulder cawed loudly and flapped its wings. Harry glanced at it and realized it was a raven, but one bigger than he’d ever seen before.

As quick as his shaking legs could hold him Harry got to his feet, eager to share all that he’d learned with Rindyll.

But Rindyll wasn’t standing where he’d left her.

Harry glanced around the darkness, the flames of the small fire beside the circle only illuminating so much.

He glimpsed something on the ground but he was unable to comprehend what he was seeing until he stepped out of the circle and approached it.

Rindyll lay on her back, naked and covered in bruises and blood. Her eyes were open but unseeing and her lips were purple.

“Dead, dead,” the raven on his shoulder cawed.

Harry still didn’t understand what he was seeing. Rindyll couldn’t be dead. She’d been standing right there when Harry left. How could she be dead?

“Congratulations, my boy. You’ve walked the deathlands. You’re a necromancer now.”

Harry whipped around, his heart flying up in his throat at the sound of that voice.

Rylan, in the flesh, came strolling out of the darkness, shirtless, chest covered in dark patches of blood, the stone around his neck dripping with it. There were even smears of blood around his mouth.

Before Harry could stop himself, a primal, guttural cry escaped his lips as he stood rooted to the spot beside Rindyll’s dead body, staring at her murderer.

Rylan laughed while running a hand through the blood on his chest. “Oh yeah, while you were away I had a bit of fun with your little girlfriend, well, for as long as she lasted. I hope you don’t mind.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

Harry had never had an outer body experience before, but he guessed that must be what was happening to him as his mind seemed to leave his body so he could gaze down at the scene below him.

Rylan stood grinning at Harry, hands dripping with blood, while Harry’s body stood still as a statue, eyes unseeing, while the raven flapped around them both in a uneven circle.

“Kill, kill,” the raven screeched, though who exactly he was talking to Harry hadn’t a clue. He still wasn’t sure what the raven even was, and now was not the time to ponder on that particular mystery.

“They gave you a guide?” Rylan said while he briefly observed the raven.

Harry said nothing, could say nothing, since his mind was still floating somewhere far, far above the rest of him.

Rylan shrugged off Harry’s silence and went on as if Harry had answered him anyway. “And a raven, too. You must have made an impression, my boy. I always knew you had a lot of potential.”

Without warning, Harry’s mind fell back down in his body, and the sensation of being corporal again was almost painful as his muscles tightened and blood rushed in his ears.

“How?” Harry managed to grind out between clenched jaws. More than anything he wanted to know how Rylan had found them. He already knew why Rylan had murdered Rindyll; to punish Harry for daring to run away.

“How?” Rylan released a burst of obnoxious laughter and gave Harry a look as though he never realized before how stupid Harry was until that moment. “Did you really think anyone in this world could walk the deathlands without me knowing they’d opened a portal?”

Ah. Of course. Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He should have realized that. Someone should have realized that. At once Harry’s chest filled with fiery fury directed at Karakas and Auntie Eustice and most of all himself, for not realizing that a necromancer as powerful as Rylan would sense the moment someone else opened a gateway to the deathlands.

Harry should have known and now Rindyll was dead.

Rylan’s bloody smirk slipped off his face and at once his expression became one of intense focus. “You know why I am here, what I came for.”

Harry swallowed hard around the thick grief in his throat. “I know. And I’m going to have to disappoint you.”

Narrowing his eyes, lips thinning, Rylan stalked closer to Harry, who remained frozen in place. “You did not dare, boy.”

“I did,” Harry said in a trembling voice, because he knew that this was the moment that would decide everything, Harry’s entire future and probably even his life. “I burned it all.”

Rylan released an unearthly screech as he raised both hands, blood dripping from his palms, and send a burst of sheer magic in Harry’s direction. It hit Harry in the chest hard enough to crack a few ribs and it sent him flying backwards until he landed hard enough to drive the air from his lungs.

“Tell me you are lying!” Rylan screamed, advancing on Harry with furious strides. “Give me the ritual, you useless sack of shit!”

Harry fumbled in his pocket to get hold of the opal he used to cast wizarding magic while trying desperately to inhale breath after breath through his burning ribs. He raised a shaking hand and aimed a finger at Rylan. “Stupefy!”

Rylan’s raised fist erupted in purple flames which easily countered the stunner until it fizzled out into nothing.

“Bombarda!” Harry managed to yell while falling all over himself as he tried to get up.

The same thing happened as before. Rylan swiped away Harry’s magic with a burst of purple flames until he stood in front of a swaying Harry, who had barely managed to get to his feet.

“I am giving you one chance, boy,” Rylan said in a venomous tone while his grey eyes glowed in the darkness. “Give me the ritual or I will spend the next year torturing the information I need out of you and I will enjoy every minute of it, I promise.”

“Run, run,” the raven cawed as it circled above them.

Harry swallowed and panted, still unable to draw in enough air to keep his mind from swimming. This was it, then. This was to be the end. He could apparate away, but he wasn’t leaving Rindyll’s body behind, because her body was the only chance Harry had to bring her back. He could send more hexes or curses flying Rylan’s way, but Rylan was powerful enough to counter Harry’s wizarding magic.

And Harry barely knew any necromancy at all, certainly not enough to go against someone like Rylan.

So this was the end, and it would come in the form of months of torture and Harry was genuinely terrified but he saw no way out of it.

The raven landed on Harry’s shoulder, causing him to startle for a second. “Portkey, portkey,” the raven cawed as he flapped a large wing against Harry’s head, as though trying to knock some sense into him.

“What is it saying?” Rylan demanded.

“No clue,” Harry mumbled, but an idea had suddenly occurred to him, thanks to his new guide. He wasn’t about to run away and leave Rindyll’s remains behind, but he could send Rylan packing. “You’re right,” Harry said, gathering his courage while he looked Rylan straight in the eye. “I lied. I have the ritual here.” And while ignoring Rylan’s triumphant grin, Harry stuck his hand in his satchel and summoned the emergency portkey his mother insisted he carry.

It was an old book of boks recipes that had seen better days, the pages stained and the cover torn.

“This is the first one,” Harry said, barely looking at Rylan as he offered him the book. The second Rylan’s hand closed around the book, Harry let go and shouted, “Fortuna!”

And with a sharp pop, Rylan was pulled hundreds of miles away to one of the safe places they’d camped during their initial flight from the school.

“Thank fuck,” Harry breathed, and then pressed a hand in his side to rub against the stinging, burning pain from his cracked ribs. “Come on, we’re getting out of here,” he told the raven, who still sat heavily on his shoulder. Harry stumbled over to Rindyll’s corpse, grabbed hold of her cold wrist and apparated them to a location some fifty miles away, in the middle of a small forest that was the domain of a local warlord who used it only for hunting wild boar and let no one else live in it.

The second they landed, Harry let go of Rindyll and set about casting the strongest wards he knew. He wasn’t sure if Rylan would be able to sense a resurrection ritual the way he’d sensed the portal to the deathlands, but Harry wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

They hadn’t dared use wards when summoning the portal to the deathlands, because Harry had worried it might interfere with the necromancy and perhaps make it impossible for him to return to the land of the living or something equally horrifying. Now Harry genuinely wished they’d taken the chance and protected themselves better.

But that was in the past and what mattered now was bringing Rindyll back.

Of course, Harry had never resurrected a human before. He’d only ever managed a dog, had never even had the chance to progress to a monkey, but his need to bring Rindyll back was so great that he was convinced he could do it. And he’d walked the deathlands now. That alone made him a real necromancer and should give him the skills to bring a human back.

Once the area was protected, Harry started a small fire while the raven watched curiously from his perch on an overhanging tree branch. Harry sat down beside Rindyll’s naked body and used his opal to clean off the blood from her pale, cold skin, to heal the many cuts across her body, including her neck, and finally to conjure a simple sheet to cover her clean body with. Then he rubbed his thumb across the amulet and summoned his family.

“Oh no,” his mother said as she crouched beside Harry while everyone else gathered around them.

“My dear, dear child,” Euphemia sighed as she stared down at Rindyll’s still form.

“What happened?” Auntie Eustice asked, looking down at Harry with a hand pressed over her mouth in shock.

“Rylan happened,” Harry whispered. It was strange. He was sad, incredibly so, but he could spare no tears. All there remained was an utter emptiness inside of him that made him believe he was the one who’d died, and aching ribs to remind him he was still alive with every breath he took. “I’m bringing her back.” And without waiting for a reply from his family, Harry summoned Karakas and glared up at his mentor. “Tell me everything you know about resurrecting a human.”

“Harry, I doubt you have the power for this, even if you have walked the deathlands. It takes extraordinary skill and many, many years of practice to perform a ritual such as that,” Karakas said, eyes creased with sympathy.

“Tell me!” Harry all but yelled, because he had no time for excuses. All he wanted was Rindyll back.

“Very well,” Karakas sighed, exchanging a few worried glances with some of Harry’s family, but Harry ignored them all and started preparing a ritual circle while Karakas explained what he needed to do in detail. The basics of the ritual were the same, whether you resurrected a mouse or a human, but the amount of power and concentration needed made all the difference.

Before long Rindyll’s body lay at the centre of the ritual circle and Harry summoned a nearby hedgehog and a squirrel to use as living sacrifices to power the runes. A few slicing charms later, Harry dripped their blood around the circle and started to chant.

The drain on his magic was unbelievable the moment Harry initiated the ritual. When resurrecting cats and dogs Harry had always ended up exhausted and in need of a good night’s sleep, but now Harry was genuinely worried he might end up accidentally killing himself, such was the feeling of his very life seeping out of him and into the magic that would bring Rindyll back.

Harry didn’t care, though. It would all be worth it to have a living, breathing Rindyll at his side again.

The next thing Harry knew was waking up beside Rindyll’s cold body while the dawn cast long shadows in the forest all around them. His family was nowhere to be seen.

“Not dead, not dead,” the raven cawed while it flew down from the branch above them and landed in front of Harry. “Sleep, sleep.”

Harry swallowed and blinked against a sudden burning in his eyes.

He’d failed.

Somehow, he’d failed at finishing the ritual and he’d passed out instead. What a sheltered, weak little swot he was that he couldn’t even get this right.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry leaned forward until his forehead rested on Rindyll’s stomach and great, big heaving sobs washed over him. Harry didn’t think he’d ever cried like this before, as though all that was left inside of him was sorrow and grief.

The raven blinked beady eyes at him while it looked like it didn’t have a clue what was going on.

Harry didn’t want to lose Rindyll, he really, really didn’t want to lose her. But if he couldn’t have her back in the flesh, at least he could still talk to her. With a brush of his thumb across the amulet, Rindyll was there at his side again, shimmering with an inner light as she floated in front of him.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” Rindyll said, much to Harry’s surprise. “Rylan got the drop on me, snuck up on me before I even knew he was there. I’m so sorry I left you alone.”

More sobs wrecked Harry’s entire body and it took quite a while before he could reply. “No, I am sorry. It’s my fault. I tried to bring you back, but I’m not strong enough to do it and it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not,” Rindyll assured him with a sad little smile. “It’s Rylan’s fault and no one else’s. And I’m fine, Harry. There’s no pain here. I am finally free.”

Nodding, Harry tried to hold back more sobs but failed at that, too. Rindyll waited patiently while Harry gathered himself enough to look up at her again. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here. I’ll be here whenever you need me,” Rindyll said with a reassuring smile.

Harry stared at her and for the first time realized she was dead. That she wasn’t alive.

It was a peculiar revelation. Harry loved his family. His very dead family. They’d always been enough for him because he’d only ever really known them as dead people. He simply didn’t remember them as ever being alive so he had no memories to compare their dead versions to.

But Harry knew Rindyll as a living, breathing person he could touch and kiss and fuck and sleep next to while he listened to her breathe in the darkness and all of that was gone now, and the shimmering Rindyll that floated in front of him was a poor substitute for the living version of her.

“Yeah,” Harry finally whispered, just to assure Rindyll that he’d be fine and that he’d talk to her when he needed to because the last thing Harry wanted to do was reject this dead version of the person he loved most in the world, and yet that was what his gut told him to do because she wasn’t and could never again be the Rindyll he’d known and loved all his life.

“Burn, burn,” the raven cawed as he pecked at Rindyll’s cold hand.

“He is right,” Rindyll said with a firm nod. “You have to burn my body. You don’t want it to fall in the wrong hands.”

Pursing his lips, Harry stared down at the dead body in front of him. “Yeah, I know.”

“It’s okay, Harry. I’ll still be here,” Rindyll assured him once more.

Except that she wouldn’t be, not really, but Harry kept that to himself while he got up on trembling legs and stepped away from the body. He cast a quick Incendio and watched how flames engulfed the corpse.

The fact that it was a magical fire helped to speed up the process but it still took a few hours for the fire to consume the whole body and leave only ashes behind. And all the while Harry stared at the flames and felt nothing at all while his thoughts wandered far and wide as he contemplated what the point of being alive even was if he had to go about it all alone.

“Eat, eat,” the raven cawed while it flew up to Harry’s shoulder and settled there.

“I’m not hungry,” Harry muttered, wanting to brush the raven off but not having the strength to do it. “Just leave me be.”

“Maybe you should listen to him,” Rindyll suggested with an encouraging smile. “He seems to want to help.”

“I don’t need help.” And without waiting for a response, Harry dismissed Rindyll’s soul back to the beyond. He’d lost her and the last thing he wanted to do now was stare at some poor imitation of her.

Harry apparated away to a random spot near a river a good distance away and set up his tent after warding the area against intruders. For the next few days Harry stayed there, barely eating and barely sleeping, just wandering around the tent, aimlessly looking for things to do while he was too tired to do them.

He didn’t summon his family or Rindyll because he didn’t want to deal with their sympathetic words or their pitying looks.

The raven was there, reminding him to eat or sleep every once in a while, but Harry mostly ignored him.

Until he realized he still didn’t know who the raven really was, so one afternoon Harry sat in a chair and looked at the raven who was perched on a bookcase. “Do you have a name?”

“Yes, yes,” the raven cawed as it soared across the tent and landed on Harry’s knee. “V…V…”

“V…V?” Harry asked, smiling for the first time in days.

The raven clapped his beak while he narrowed his beady, black eyes at Harry. “V…V…V…”

“All right, how about we stick to V for now?”

V seemed to contemplate that for a few moments before he ducked his head in what Harry thought was agreement. For a good long while Harry stared at V and V stared right back, and then Harry sighed and ran a hand down his face.

“I’m the biggest fool in the world,” Harry said, more to himself than to his new companion. “All this time I’ve been preparing for walking the deathlands, but I guess I forgot to come up with a plan on what to do afterwards when I eventually confronted Rylan.”

“Dumb, dumb,” V agreed with what sounded like a cackling burst of laughter.

“Yes, thank you, I hadn’t come to that conclusion by myself yet,” Harry said while briefly glaring at the obnoxious bird. “And now I’ve lost everything and I still don’t know what to do about that monster.”

“Plan, plan,” V suggested and Harry wanted to smack him, really, just for stating the obvious. V seemed to realize he wasn’t being very helpful because he tilted his head and added, “Books, books.”

“Were you a Ravenclaw in your previous life?” Harry said absently while he got up, because he might as well move around a bit while he stared at his many bookcases.

“No, no,” V said while he flew back up to his favourite perch right on top of the books on geography. “Slytherin.”

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and looked up at V with widening eyes. How the heck did a raven know about the Hogwarts houses? Yes, Harry knew he was more than a raven, that he was a guide given to him from the beyond, and that he was possessed by a mysterious shade, but how did any of them know about the Hogwarts houses?

V kept his beak shut and looked down at Harry while sitting perfectly still as though he hadn’t just shaken Harry to his core.

For a few moments, Harry contemplated getting to the bottom of this new mystery, but then he sighed and reminded himself he had more urgent matters to look into, like killing Rylan as painfully as possible, and he honestly didn’t have the energy to do more than one thing at a time.

“My great-grandmother was a Slytherin,” Harry said, just to have something to say because V was still looking at him expectantly. “Charis Black was her name, well, until she got married and then it became Charis MacMillan. She was a Potions Master.”

“Rye, rye,” V said, much to Harry’s confusion. V hopped to the left and back again, bobbing his head up and down, looking quite frustrated with himself. “Rion, rion.” Another few hops, another head bob. “Orion.”

Harry’s mouth sank open. He knew that name. He’d heard plenty about the Black family from both Dorea and Charis, not to mention James had spent hours and hours reminiscing about Sirius, and Orion was definitely a Black family name that came back every generation or so. “Are you the reincarnated soul of Orion Black?” Harry asked slowly, expectantly. It would explain everything very neatly, if Harry had ran into some Black forefather in the deathlands and the Figures had decided he should tag along with Harry as his guide.

The raven cackled as though Harry had just told a very funny joke. “No, no. Friend, friend.”

“Ah.” Harry nodded in understanding, but then narrowed his eyes in confusion. How the heck did the soul of Orion Black’s friend end up with Harry? For a moment Harry was tempted to summon his family but he really didn’t want to see them yet, so he decided again that this mystery could wait.

He had a necromancer to kill.

Without really knowing what he was looking for, Harry took his time browsing the bookcases, his thoughts wandering far and wide, to Rindyll and to Rylan and even though he tried not to, also to V and his strange connection to Orion Black. But then Harry was pulled back to the here and now when he came across a familiar book that he hadn’t seen in years.

“Rindyll wanted me to get a barok to kill Rylan with,” Harry mumbled as he pulled the book on Santika’s native animals off the shelves and flipped it open. Instantly, V hopped down from the bookcase to land on Harry’s shoulder, probably so he could read the pages in Harry’s hand. “I didn’t have the heart to tell her no one has ever caught a barok, let alone tamed one. They’re resistant to magic, so coming up with spells to fight or catch it is not going to do me any good.”

While Harry read through the chapter on baroks, V clapped his beak a few times and shuffled to the side and back on Harry’s shoulder.

“Make beast friend,” V finally said while Harry closed the book, his whole body filled with a warm flush of nostalgia while around the edges bitter reality was eagerly waiting to take over again.

“I just told you, V, you can’t tame them. Many have tried. All have died.” Harry shoved the book back on the shelf with more force than necessary.

V shuffled around some more. “Make friend beast, make friend beast.”

“Aren’t you listening?” Harry demanded, because he had no time or patience for useless advice. Not now.

V gave Harry a sharp, stinging peck on the cheek, even drawing a drop of blood, before he flew up a short distance until his claws latched onto a thick, old tome that he promptly pulled off the shelves.

“Seriously? You’re just making a mess now?” Harry muttered as he bent over and picked up the book. The cover was made of thick, worn leather and the words inscribed in it were barely visible, yet Harry made them out just fine.

Soul Magic

Harry blinked, something beginning to dawn on him.

“Make friend beast,” V said again, looming over Harry from on top of the bookcase.

“V,” Harry said slowly, backing up to his chair and sinking down in it while clutching the tome to his chest. “V, do you think it’s possible to put a deceased soul into the body of an animal?”

“Yes, yes!” V flapped his wings in obvious excitement. “Make friend beast!”

Harry’s eyes were prickling while his throat instantly went dry. This might be it, the solution he needed to take out Rylan once and for all.

Baroks were resistant to magic, all sorts of magic. Attacking them with it had little use.

If Harry could pull off this plan, Rylan with his fancy purple flames wouldn’t stand a chance against the beast.

Without even thinking about it, Harry brushed his thumb across his amulet until Rindyll floated in front of him. Harry slowly looked up at her smiling, expectant face.

“How would you like to be a barok?” Harry asked her in a whisper while showing her the cover of the tomb in his lap.

Rindyll blinked once, twice and then she broke out in an enormous grin. “You could do that? I could be a barok? Nothing could hurt me if I was a barok.”

Harry’s smile was a little watery as he nodded in agreement. “You’d be the strongest thing in this world if we can pull this off.”

“Yes, make me a barok.” Rindyll’s smile faded a little as she gave Harry a questioning look. “How are you going to manage this?”

Harry shrugged, not at all concerned about that question for some reason. He’d figure it out. He had the rest of his life to do that. Besides, it wasn’t as if he had to come up with all the details of this plan alone.

With another swipe of his thumb, his family was there and so was his mentor.

Much to Harry’s surprise, Karakas looked decidedly less there, his bright shimmer clearly diminished, and Karakas fell onto his knees before Harry.

“Please, child, you must keep me here,” Karakas pleaded, eyes wide while he placed cold, ghostly hands on Harry’s knees. “Rylan summoned me and he can inflict great pain on the dead as it turns out. Keep me here, don’t send me back to the beyond where he can reach me.”

That was something Harry hadn’t even considered, but now that he heard of it he realized he should have. Of course Rylan would summon Karakas from the beyond to get him to cough up the ritual, and of course Rylan would know ways to inflict pain even on the dead.

“I’ll keep you here,” Harry assured his old mentor. “You haven’t told him about the ritual, have you?”

Karakas quickly shook his head. “I gave him a false ritual, one that won’t work, I swear it.”

“Good. You’re safe now. But I do need your help.” And with that Harry explained to his family what he was planning.

“I love it!” Auntie Eustice proclaimed with a clap of her hands and a proud smile directed at Rindyll. “If you didn’t want to do it, girl, I’d volunteer.”

Lily and James were a little less enthused as they looked at Harry with worried frowns. “This is seriously dark magic,” Lily said and she probably would have said more but Harry interrupted her as he jumped up from his chair, his still healing ribs burning in protest.

“Rylan killed her!” Harry snapped, gesturing wildly at Rindyll. “And he wiped the floor with me. My wizarding magic did nothing against him. I need a way to kill him, and this is the only plan I have!”

“It’s a good plan,” Charlus said, much to Lily and James’ surprise. “Yes, it’s dark magic, but in case you’ve all forgotten, Harry has been preforming dark magic for years now. What’s a little more if it can actually save his life and get rid of that monster?”

“I agree,” Patroclus said, even the pragmatist. “Harry, we’ll help. Let’s get a realistic plan together.”

Before James or Lily could protest any of these new developments, Fleamont spoke up. “He needs a broom.”

“Oh yes,” Bernadine agreed. “If he is to get close enough to a barok, he needs to fly.”

“Fly, fly!” V flapped his wings a few times, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“What’s with the bird?” Rigel asked with a puzzled frown.

“He’s my guide from the beyond,” Harry said, deciding that he was keeping any other interesting titbits about V to himself for now. Planning how to make Rindyll a barok was more important right now.

Auntie Eustice gave Harry a reassuring smile. “We’ll help you build an amazing broom, don’t you worry.”

“A barok is resistant to magic,” Charis muttered as she gazed off into the distance with a thoughtful frown. “But you can use magic on their environment, create a magical trap that uses natural material.”

“Yes,” Dorea agreed at once. “Place the trap over a ritual circle, say a cage made of rock, and you’ll be able to hold the beast in place long enough to place Rindyll’s soul inside of it.”

Harry sat back in his chair and looked between his family members and for the first time since he’d found Rindyll bloody and beaten and dead he felt a spark of hope again.

They had an actual plan to kill Rylan, and that was more than he’d ever had before.

While his family talked amongst themselves, adding details to the plan and brainstorming ideas, Harry got up and poured himself a cup of water, which he drank in one thirsty gulp. Then he got a pot of water going on the woodstove, to make some soup with the root vegetables and salted meat he had in storage. If he was going to pull this all off, he needed his strength and not eating in days was not a way to maintain that.

After a night of restless sleep, Harry packed up his tent and apparated to a new location, in a vast forest to the east this time. If he was going to make a broom, he needed wood and lots of it.

As Harry followed Auntie Eustice, Fleamont and Dorea around the woods, looking for suitable trees, V sat on his shoulder and peered down at the opal in Harry’s hand, even trying to peck at it.

“I use it to cast wizarding magic,” Harry whispered, holding the opal out of V’s reach. “So leave it alone.”

“Wand, wand,” V said while giving Harry a look as though questioning his intelligence.

“If only Ollivander had a shop in Santika,” Harry said with a sarcastic snicker, ignoring the restless bird on his shoulder. The bloody thing was heavy, yet refused to budge.

“Make wand,” V screeched, pecking at Harry’s cheek in obvious frustration.

“I don’t have a magical core,” Harry replied through gritted teeth. Great, now they’d drawn the attention of his family, who were staring at him in confusion. But before Harry could explain what he was squabbling about with a bird, V shuffled around on his shoulder, his head and long beak reached all the way over his own back. Once he righted himself again, he had a long, black tailfeather in his beak.

Auntie Eustice’s whole face lit up. “You can make a wand now, since that bird is magical!”

“Huh.” Harry stared at V, who looked entirely self-satisfied while rubbing the feather in Harry’s face. “Okay, we’ll make a broom and a wand.”

And that is exactly what Harry did over the coming months. He camped at a new site every day, slowly travelling across Santika to the coast in the South-east, where the ocean between the two continents was the most narrow and Harry could easily cross it on his broom during the night. He contemplated just buying a boat and using that as a base of operations, but Harry knew nothing about sailing, had never even been on a boat before, so he’d be better off just making the crossing on his broom and flying back if he needed to set up camp.

It was quickly decided that setting up camp anywhere in the Grim Gorges, where the barok lived, was suicide because magical wards didn’t work to keep them out.

Harry’s first attempt at making a broom was…well, it wasn’t a disaster, as the broom did fly, but it was uneven and that made the break charms buck and it leaned heavily to the left.

“Good effort,” Rigel said with a proud smile. He’d told Harry all he knew about brooms, which had always been a hobby of his. “I promise you, it’s a better broom than you’d find at Hogwarts.”

James snorted loudly at that in amusement.

“Yes, yes,” Dorea agreed. “But it’s not good enough to hunt a barok with, so try again, Harry.”

Harry’s next attempt was better, far more steady in its handling and Harry couldn’t stop smiling the second he mounted it and took off into the sky. It was a fine broom, but still too slow.

“Again!” Auntie Eustice gave him an unforgiving smile while she crossed her arms.

Attempt number three was much, much better, and most importantly, it was fast. Harry cried out in sheer joy as he climbed high and dove down fast, V soaring by his side in wide circles while cawing at him in encouragement.

Making a wand turned out to be trickier, but Auntie Eustice was a harsh taskmaster who would not accept failure as an option. Harry made a few practice wands first, to learn how to magically turn the wood and how to inscribe the runes, and once he had learned those processes, it was time to pick the right wood.

“Yew, yew,” V suggested with a loud caw.

“Hm.” Auntie Eustice gave a thoughtful nod, but then quickly shook her head. “No, not yew. Cypress.”

V blinked his beady eyes and stared at Auntie Eustice for a moment before bobbing his head in agreement.

“Where did you say you got that bird again, Harry?” James asked, not for the first time.

Harry shrugged, no longer concerned with V’s origins since the bird was only ever helpful, if not a tad arrogant at times. “He was a gift, Dad. He’s been useful.”

They found the perfect cypress tree in a field near the coast where it stood alone with its mournful branches reaching down all the way to the ground. Harry approached it on the night of a full moon and muttered the ritual words as he sliced off a single branch. He then spent a whole week carving and turning the wood, and inscribing the runes before adding both V’s feather and the opal he’d been using as the double core.

When it was ready and Harry picked it up, a strong flow of heady magic rushed through him and out of the wand in a shower of silver, gold and black sparks.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” Lily said with a glowing smile. “You’ve got a wand!”

Harry beamed at his family, finally feeling something like himself again after months of being empty inside. He’d studied the right ritual to use, he’d made a fast broom and a powerful wand.

He was ready.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Harry flew his broom as close to the wild waves as he could, loving the occasional spray of cold water in his face. He estimated that flying across the ocean to the Grim Gorges would take about four to five hours at its most narrow point, but he didn’t mind spending all that time on his broom.

As it turned out, Harry loved flying.

And once this nightmare was behind them and Rylan was dead for good, Harry vowed to himself to do a lot more flying, even if just for fun.

It had been a long time since Harry had been able to do something just for fun.

The southern continent was an unexplored part of Santika, since the area that could be reached from the northern continent was completely covered by the Grim Gorges, where the barok ruled. No one had ever managed to explore inland more than a few dozen miles without running into one of the vicious beasts. Most had never made it out again.

Harry was also determined to explore more of the southern continent on his broom in the future. In the air he’d be safe. He hoped.

V was flying alongside Harry, his large wings flapping steadily to keep up. Karakas floated behind them as Harry pulled him along. He’d become like part of the furniture at this point, after months of his constant presence, since Harry couldn’t send him back to the beyond for fear of Rylan getting his bloody hands on him again.

A rocky coastline came into view and Harry sat up on his broom in confusion. According to his calculations he had at least another hour before he’d reach the Grim Gorges.

Before they reached the shore, Harry stopped in the air, hovering above the waves as he stared at the land before him.

There were houses built along parts of the coastline, high above the rocky cliffs.

No one lived in the Grim Gorges. No one would survive even trying.

“What is this place?” Harry muttered, as V landed to perch on the handle of Harry’s broomstick.

“By the Sun Goddess, it’s real,” Karakas breathed as he floated beside Harry.

“What is?” Harry turned to look at his mentor in question, surprised by the almost worshipful expression on Karakas’ face.

“Sildar,” Karakas whispered.

Harry frowned. In Santireen Sildar meant as much as ‘safe home’.

“Look, look,” V said, flapping his wings while hopping impatiently.

As Harry slowly flew to the rocky cliffs, Karakas kept up with him. “There are stories of an island where sorcerers once lived freely,” Karakas said, raising his voice to be heard over the crashing of the waves. “I believe this is that island.”

“Huh.” Harry looked around him with wide eyes as he slowly made his way inland. The place was deserted, the stone houses empty and dilapidated, the gardens and roads overgrown. Harry saw wild olive groves, orange trees that were almost swallowed by the weeds around them, and darting between the houses were goats. They looked feral rather than wild, and they had probably been left behind when the original population had disappeared.

While Harry made his way further inland, he saw a large flock of feral chickens pecking around a flowery meadow, and what he believed were two feral pigs ducking into some brushland when they spotted him.

Somehow the people who’d once lived here had left everything behind. As Harry made his way out of what appeared to be a sizable village with lots of empty, stone houses, he wondered what had happened here.

Before the thought had even fully formed in his head, Harry knew the answer, though.

Rylan.

Rylan happened.

Harry could see it. A peaceful community of sorcerers, welcoming a magical stranger into their midst. Rylan would have acted the part, of course, of a kind man, there to help teach or something equally beneficial for the community.

And then the children would have started disappearing.

Perhaps snatched from their homes in the middle of the night, without a sound, their parents waking up in the morning to find their beds empty.

Fear would have gripped the community, spreading around the whole island like an unstoppable plague. People would have fled to all four corners of the wind to spare their families, leaving all they had behind.

The island seemed to be rectangular in shape, with several villages dotting the landscape. There were many remnants of a once thriving agricultural community, not to mention a few decaying docks where once fishing boats would have moored.

“Nice, nice,” V cawed as he peered at everything around them from his perch on Harry’s broom.

It was nice. More than nice.

It was a potential home.

Harry touched down in the centre of a small, cobbled town square, surrounded by white buildings that once were shops and homes and what seemed to be a town hall of sorts. The moment his feet touched the ground he was overcome by a wave of magic.

Wards. Strong wards. And if Harry was right, they were probably designed to keep non-magical folk from ever finding the place, which explained why it was still deserted after all these years.

Harry found a stone bench outside an empty shop and sat down to have some water and dried fruits.

“Home, home,” V cawed as he landed on Harry’s knee and accepted some dried apple to eat.

“Yeah, it could be,” Harry agreed, quietly in awe of what they had discovered. This could be a real home for all the magical people left in Santika.

A new start for their small community. A place for families to live and grow.

“This is more than I ever imagined,” Karakas sighed as he came back from exploring the town. “Harry, you must revive this sanctuary.”

“Already planning on it.” Harry sipped his bidon and chewed on some dried apricot. “Once our business with Rylan is finished, we’ll make our home here.”

“Good, good,” V crowed and promptly snatched the apricot from Harry’s fingers, the little thief.

“For now, we can use it as a base of operations while we try to snatch a barok.” Harry kept the next piece of apricot well away from his companion.

“Excellent plan,” Karakas agreed.

After his short break, Harry flew across the island to the shore closest to the Grim Gorges and selected a lone, stone house that stood beside a small cops of trees, surrounded by wild meadows high up on a cliff.

This would be his home from now on.

With his new wand, Harry cleaned out the house, which consisted of several rooms downstairs and a large attic where one could just stand up in. There was also a root cellar and an outhouse. Harry got everything spick and span and then went looking for a few fallen trees and broken branches to transfigure into some simple furniture.

Harry still spent the night in his tent, which he pitched beside the house, but it was nice to have a real, solid home to fall back on.

The next morning Harry didn’t waste any time, and after a quick breakfast of porridge and herbal tea he mounted his broom and continued his journey to the Grim Gorges, nerves building in his stomach with every mile he drew closer to the unexplored continent.

The coastline that greeted him looked very similar to Sildar, with rocky beaches and high cliffs, occupied by many seabirds flying to and from the ocean. In the distance Harry saw some animals darting across the steep cliffs that appeared to be wild goats or sheep or something similar.

Once Harry crested the cliffs the most amazing landscape greeted him, one of endless, rocky canyons stretching out like a giant maze in all directions. Their walls were steep and their tops were flat with short trees and brush covering them. The bottoms of the canyons were sometimes narrow and dark and other times wide with rivers running through them.

The view before him went on and on as Harry flew high over the canyons further inland, and Harry genuinely found himself in awe of what he was seeing. Even V seemed impressed as he flew quietly beside Harry.

“To see the Grim Gorges with our own eyes,” Karakas sighed beside Harry. “It is a miracle, to be sure.”

Harry allowed himself a few minutes to admire all he saw, but then he focussed himself on his task again, which was to find a suitable place to create a ritual circle, covered by a magical trap.

The problem was that Harry had no clue where exactly he might find a barok. As the local apex predator, their numbers would be quite low if they were to sustain a healthy population without wiping out all available prey.

Auntie Eustice, who’d naturally studied all information there was available on the barok, had theorized that they were nocturnal hunters. Their dark colouration would help them blend in to their surroundings, their four eyes would perhaps give them night vision, and their ability to make their bodies glow might allow them to communicate with each other in the darkness.

Harry hoped his aunt was right, because that meant he could set up his ritual circle in peace during daylight hours before playing bait and luring a barok into it during the night.

Just for the occasion Harry had learned a night vision charm from Patroclus, one he’d often used during his time as an Auror.

Harry found a suitable site for his trap at the bottom of a wide canyon, right beside a small river, just where the canyon narrowed into a natural bottleneck and any animal chasing him would be forced to walk right across the ritual circle. Harry summoned his family, as they had discussed, to play lookout and watch Harry’s back. And his front, and also his sides, because Harry was not afraid to admit that he was rather terrified.

Still, it was the only realistic chance they had to get rid of Rylan once and for all, so Harry pushed his fears away and focussed on the task at hand.

Auntie Eustice stayed by his side, to patiently guide him through creating the circle, even though Harry had practiced the whole ordeal at least a dozen times and knew what he had to do by heart. Everyone else spread out around the canyon, looking around carefully. V was flying circles above all of them

Once Harry got spooked by a furry critter with a long, bushy tail, the size of a medium dog. The critter seemed equally spooked by Harry and quickly fled straight up the canyon wall. Harry released a shuddering breath and went back to work. The ritual circle was done, and all he needed to do was inscribe the trap on the nearby canyon walls, which would create a transfigured cage of stone around the beast to hold it in place.

“Fly, fly!” V screeched from high above, quickly followed by his mum’s desperate cry of, “Harry, go!”

At once Harry yanked his broom, which he kept within arm’s reach at all times, under himself and pushed himself up in the air, and it was not a second too soon because out of the shadows behind him erupted a giant beast, maw opened wide, silver teeth glittering in the sunlight.

Well, so much for the barok only hunting at night.

Harry pushed his broom as high as he could as fast as he could, but the beast still managed to hook one clawed paw in the bristles on the end of Harry’s broom, pulling Harry back down again.

Fuck, that thing was quick. And strong.

Out of nowhere V divebombed the barok, pecking at a few of his eyes enough to force it back and Harry was able to push all his magic into his broom to give it enough momentum so the barok was pulled away from his broom by its own weight, claws tearing splinters off the wood.

The bristles were ruined, though, and Harry’s broom wobbled ferociously as Harry quickly steered it towards the widest part of the canyon. It was well documented that baroks could climb up straight walls and Harry didn’t want to be anywhere near a wall when it did so. It took everything Harry had to keep his shaking broom in the air, but he managed to make it to the flat top of a nearby canyon, his legs trembling when he touched down.

The moment V landed on his shoulder, Harry apparated them back to his new home on Sildar, where he promptly sat down in the dirt in front of the house, inhaling breath after breath and not feeling like he was getting any air at all.

“You all right?” James asked as he crouched beside his son, since Harry had pulled his family with him on instinct as he fled.

“Yeah, I think so,” Harry finally managed to say when his vision stopped swimming. “Fuck.”

“Next time he should use a disillusionment charm,” Patroclus said, his arms crossed tightly while he scowled at the rest of them. That had been a fierce discussion, if a disillusionment charm would keep Harry safer or not. One argument for use had been that if the barok couldn’t see him it would have a harder time pinpointing his direct location, even if it did smell him. One argument against had been that if his family couldn’t see him either they couldn’t warn him properly.

“Fine, fine,” Fleamont sighed, now apparently conceding that Patroclus might have had a point all along. “Use the charm next time, Harry.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed quietly.

“And perhaps apparate away instead of trying to use your broom,” Euphemia suggested delicately with a kind smile.

Harry hung his head and snorted. Yeah, that had been a bit of a stupid move, but reaching for his broom had been sheer instinct. “Duly noted.”

“Look at this as a learning experience,” Auntie Eustice said in her usual practical tone. “Now you know what the barok really looks like and how it moves. And the circle is already done and waiting for you.”

That was perhaps the best way to look at it, Harry decided as he stumbled to his feet, legs still feeling a little weak. His only alternative was to run around in little circles, screaming his head off in sheer terror because that fucking thing had genuinely been terrifying.

Harry took a few days off, to calm down and rest and fix his broom. Thankfully there were plenty of suitable branches to be found around his new home to supply bristles. Harry also got running water going in his house, thanks to the many household charms Euphemia had taught him over the years, and he transfigured a nice bed, so his new home was now entirely habitable and Harry slept in it from that moment on.

Once his broom was repaired, Harry went back to the Grim Gorges, his plans adjusted accordingly. He apparated straight to the spot of his ritual circle, disillusionment charm already in place. Harry kept his broom nearby, but also told himself to apparate away at the first sign of trouble as his family once again kept watch.

A wild sheep that came barrelling down the canyon wall had Harry apparate away in a hurry, only for his family to tell him to return since there had been no threat, but Harry wasn’t taking any chances.

Not after he’d seen how big the mouth of a barok really was.

Thankfully, no more interruptions occurred and Harry was able to finish inscribing the trap and then the whole setup was ready and all Harry had to do now was play bait and lure a barok close.

Inhaling deep breath after deep breath, Harry mounted his broom and cancelled his disillusionment charm. He slowly flew up and down a few canyons, keeping a very close eye on the shadowy parts of the canyon wall where the baroks liked to hide.

It took what felt like hours before Harry saw movement to his right. A brief glow of orange, followed by the ultraviolet reflection of four eyes and then the beast burst out of the shadows and Harry rushed away towards the trap, the barok hot on his heels as it ran vertically across the canyon walls.

It was all over in seconds. Harry raced right over the circle and the barok followed him just as fast, only to be met by a stone cage the moment a paw touched the circle.

A loud roar, followed by a deafening screech made it clear the barok wasn’t happy.

“Quickly!” Auntie Eustice ordered as Harry almost fell off his broom so he could power the runes. “You don’t know if its calling for some of its friends!”

Fuck, Harry really didn’t want to consider that. Rindyll was already there, waiting beside the caged, furious barok, as she’d been part of the watch party.

Harry sliced open his palm with the small knife he carried on his belt and pressed his bloody palm on the correct rune. “Now!” Harry said, looking up at a grinning Rindyll, who immediately floated inside the barok while Harry started the chant.

The magic was heady and overwhelming and pulled at his very core, but Harry kept going, kept chanting, because this was the only chance they had.

This had to work.

The barok threw its large body against the stone bars, claws scratching at the ground so dust flew everywhere.

The stone cracked.

Harry chanted and his magic poured out of him until his vision swam and the corners turned dark.

The cage broke in a rumble of stone and Harry fell backwards into the sand, utterly spent, eyes closing on their own accord.

When Harry came to, there was a barok hovering over him.

Eyes wide, Harry remained perfectly still as the beast sniffed him all over, eyes glowing and teeth glittering.

“Er…” Harry whispered, at a loss of what to do. Magic wouldn’t work and there was nowhere to run as the barok was half on top of him, so even if Harry apparated away he’d simply pull the beast with him. “Rindyll?” Harry asked quietly, hoping against hope that the ritual had worked.

The barok leaned its large head closer, gazing deeply in his eyes, and it took Harry a moment to realize what the beast wanted.

After Harry’s escape, when he’d lost the collar and he’d finally been able to use all of his magic, Dorea and Charis had insisted that Harry learn Legilimency. He’d been studying Occlumency since he was a child and he was quite good at it, but they insisted that Legilimency was equally as important. And during their lessons Rindyll had always been a willing assistant for Harry to practice on.

Slowly, carefully, Harry gazed into the beast’s eyes and connected with its mind.

”Rindyll?” Harry asked the barok mentally.

”Yes. No.” Rindyll replied, much to Harry’s relief. ”I am not her anymore. I am not alone. We are someone new.”

“All right,” Harry said out loud, figuring that Rindyll could understand him just fine as he spoke. “But it worked?” Because that seemed to be the most important thing here.

”Yes,” Rindyll the barok said with a smile in her voice. ”We are strong now. And we will help you kill the monster.”

Harry released a breath that he must have been holding his entire life, his body going utterly limp in sheer relief. “Thank you.” Reaching up a tentative hand, Harry carefully touched the strong jaw that hovered over him. The scales there were surprisingly soft and Harry slowly stroked his palm across it.

“I miss you, Rindyll,” he whispered, voice oddly choked suddenly. “But I’m happy you’re alive again.”

”We’re here, Harry. We’ll stay.” Rindyll moved back a little so Harry could get up and it took a moment to get to his feet since he was utterly exhausted after performing that kind of soul magic.

V landed on his shoulder, giving the barok a wary look before bumping his wing against the side of Harry’s head. “Well done, well done.”

“Make a portkey, Harry,” Lily suggested as the family gathered around them. “It will cost you a lot less energy than apparating.”

Harry turned a nearby rock into a portkey to his home and Rindyll the barok eagerly placed her huge paw on it. One sharp pull later they landed safely, and Harry only had energy to drink a cup of water before falling face down on his bed for a much needed nap. When he woke up again, hours later, he found V sitting on top of the roof, keeping watch over Rindyll, who was chasing seabirds up and down the cliffs outside Harry’s home.

Once the barok spotted him, she came dashing towards him, looking a lot like a young animal that had only just learned to walk. It must be strange, Harry mused, to suddenly find yourself occupying a body that had an entirely different physiology than you were used to.

“Hello, Rindyll,” Harry said with a smile as the beast almost crashed against the house as she tried to come to a stop. “Having fun?”

”I am not Rindyll anymore,” the barok said in a serious tone. ”Rindyll was weak, always the prey. We are strong, always the predator.”

“Would you like a new name then?” Harry asked, trying to understand Rindyll’s reasoning. He never thought of Rindyll as weak, but then again, he wasn’t sharing a body with an apex predator, so who knew what was really going on inside the beast’s mind.

The barok titled her head in an almost human gesture. ”Yes. You pick.”

“All right. Let me think about that.” Harry gently stroked his hand across the unnamed barok’s head. “Would you like to kill Rylan now or wait until tomorrow?”

“Kill, kill,” cawed V from his position on the roof.

”Yes, kill now.” The barok briefly bared her silver teeth in what seemed like a terrifying grin.

Harry strolled towards the meadow beside his home, not a care in the world. He wasn’t afraid, not anymore.

Rylan was as good as dead, he just didn’t know it yet.

Taking his time, Harry drew the ritual circle needed to open a portal to the deathlands. He wasn’t planning on walking it, no, he just wanted to open a portal to bring Rylan to him. It seemed like the easiest way to force a meeting.

Just as the sun was setting the circle was done and Harry summoned a few seagulls to sacrifice so the runes could be powered. Harry stood in the circle, started the chant and the moment a small dark disk appeared the magic in the air around Harry changed, and not because he made contact with the beyond.

Rylan was opening a portal straight to him, and Harry slowly stepped out of his own circle so he could wait for Rylan’s arrival.

“Boy,” Rylan grumbled as he stepped out of the portal some ten yards away. “Have you been keeping that traitor tied to you?”

“Karakas?” Harry asked while pretending to find the whole conversation boring already. “Yeah, he’s been around. He didn’t much appreciate you torturing him even beyond the grave.”

“What I did to Karakas pales in comparison to what I’m going to do to you, mark my words.” Rylan stalked closer, grey eyes glowing and face set in a tight mask filled with the security that he was the strongest being around and none could defeat him.

Harry was about to sorely prove him wrong.

“Do you remember Rindyll?” Harry asked with a tilt of his head as Rylan stopped in front of him, teeth bared in a wicked grin. “The girl you brutally raped and murdered?”

“Your little bitch?” Rylan sneered down at Harry. “Yes, I remember her. A bit of a dull fuck, to be honest.”

“Well, she’s not dull now, I assure you.” Harry gestured behind Rylan with a lazy wave of his hand. “I got her a new body.”

Rylan looked over his shoulder to see the barok crawl over the edge of the cliffs, the setting sun framing her body in a wreath of light, ultraviolet eyes blazing in the dusk, body lighting up with orange flames from within.

And Harry cherished the look of sheer terror on Rylan’s face, skin paling rapidly while his eyes almost bulged out of his head, as he raised his fists, purple flames erupting from them. The barok never gave him a chance to utter even a single spell as she closed the distance in a few giant leaps and tore into the necromancer.

Harry quickly stepped back but was still hit with a few sprays of warm blood. V, who as usual sat perched on Harry’s shoulder, flapped his wings in annoyance but stayed put to watch the show.

And what a show it was. Harry had never seen anything like it, chunks of bloody meat flying around, ribs cracking and limbs tearing, until only a pile of unidentifiable remains were left. As Harry inspected the piles around him he was pretty sure the head was missing entirely, but he wasn’t about to scold the barok for doing what baroks did best.

“Dead, dead!” V crowed in victory and flew up to circle above them.

“Thank you,” Harry said to the barok as he sank down into the grass beneath him, uncaring that it was smeared with blood.

It was over, truly over. And for the first time since Harry had learned that he was a slave in a violent world he felt like his life was finally his own.

The barok released a satisfying rumble as she sat down in the grass beside him, licking her lips with a blue tongue.

Beside Harry’s shoe something gold glittered and as Harry reached for it, he realized it was the bloodstone Rylan had always kept around his neck and which Harry was sure was tied to the rituals Rylan used to assure his own immortality. Harry would keep it for now, study it and see if he could use it for good, to maybe give all the lives that were lost because of it some meaning.

V landed on Harry’s outstretched leg and peered intently at the red stone. “Make talk, make talk.”

“What?” Harry frowned down at his companion.

“Make bad man talk,” V cawed while giving Harry an impatient look, and Harry realized what V was trying to say.

Holy fuck!

He could do that. He could summon Rylan from the beyond and force him to talk, to teach Harry everything he knew. Harry’s smile turned into a positively vicious smirk. He was the one in charge now and there was nothing Rylan could do about it.

“Good bird,” Harry said with a huge smile while he scratched V’s feathery breast with a finger. V closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “We’ll do that. We’ll make that monster tell us everything he knows.”

Harry’s family came drifting over. Harry had told them to wait in the house, to watch the show from the windows, because he didn’t want the souls of his loved ones in literal reach of an enemy necromancer.

“Is that…” Lily asked as she looked around the meadow in shock.

“That’s most of him, yes,” Harry said as he looked up at his family with a chuckle. “We did it.”

“That we did,” James said, offering Harry a proud nod.

“You need to sneak into Bram’s castle and collect Rylan’s private library. Not to mention his secret stash of artifacts,” Patroclus said.

Auntie Eustice gasped in outrage. “You knew that monster had a library and you never mentioned it?”

Rolling his eyes, Patroclus gestured harshly at his sister. “This is exactly why I didn’t mention it sooner. You wouldn’t have allowed anyone any rest until the books were collected.”

Auntie Eustice sniffed and turned her back on her brother. “That man.” Then she looked down at Harry over her nose. “You should probably go as soon as possible, though. Those books should be saved from whatever barbaric warlord ends up taking Bram’s throne next.”

“I’ll put it on the list,” Harry said easily. And he would sneak into Bram’s castle soon, because he was curious about the treasures Rylan had been hiding just as much as Auntie Eustice was. And thanks to his broom he could make a trip like that easily even in case direct apparition was too far.

After that was done, Harry was planning on fixing up a few homes on Sildar, maybe even a whole town. Thanks to his new wand and his talent in transfiguration that wouldn’t be a problem at all. After that he’d probably go look for the Mardigans and Valdis, Genka and Vinka and all the magical children there, to invite them to make their new homes on Sildar.

Harry frowned as he stared at the night’s sky, the sun now completely disappeared beyond the horizon. Rylan must have had a spell or ritual to identify magical children, to find them before Karakas invented the summoning ritual. Harry would learn that magic and find all the magical children, and adults, left in Santika and invite them to come live on the island.

They could create a whole new magical community, one safe from warlords and their perverted expectations of magical children.

The barok rumbled happily beside him while Harry kept scratching V’s chest, his family floating around him as they chatted amongst themselves, and Harry was filled with a sense of peace and happiness that seemed almost foreign to him.

“What about Keket?” Harry asked as he glanced at the Barok beside him. It meant ‘free girl’ in Santireen.

The barok nodded her massive head, eyes crinkling in approvement.

“All right.” Harry went back to staring at the sky. That was one thing done. Now he still had to figure out what and who V was, but that could wait. First he had a library to save, and then a magical community to build.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Harry sat down at the rustic table in the dusty basement kitchen, V remaining steadfast on his shoulder, while Sirius sat down opposite him and Remus rummaged around to get some tea started. Snape parked himself against the wall beside the door, face obscured by a curtain of black hair but his eyes as sharp as ever. Lily hovered beside him, had been sticking to him like a burr ever since the previous night. James floated beside Harry while staring at his old friends with the biggest, looniest grin on his face. The rest of Harry’s family was keeping an eye on some of the bigger players in the wizarding world, because Harry wanted to know what was happening around him in detail.

He’d sent both Auntie Eustice and Charis to spy on Dumbledore. Harry didn’t trust that man one bit, no matter his parents had always spoken well of him. That old man had been far too ecstatic to see Harry suddenly returned.

While he wouldn’t admit it out loud anytime soon, Harry was glad his parents were with him, had been with him the entire day, because even though Harry had heard all about the wizarding world for his entire life, he was feeling a little out of sorts suddenly finding himself stuck in it.

Santika was his home, and while Harry was genuinely curious about the wizarding world and he was certain he would enjoy spending some time in it, he did miss his home, especially because he wasn’t sure if he could ever return there. Or even if he should.

“So where were you?” Remus asked as he served them all hot cups of tea. All except Snape, who declined Remus’ offer with a sneer and simply returned to silently staring at Harry. “Are the stories of you living in a different world really true?” Remus sat down opposite Harry and gave him a mild smile and a curious look.

Harry sipped his tea, after he quietly ran his magic through it to search for potions, because no matter these were his parents’ old friends, Harry wasn’t a fool. “I grew up in Santika. Attended a school for sorcery there.”

Over the years Harry had learned that the best ways to communicate with strangers was to tell them as little as possible while still giving the appearance of answering all of their questions truthfully. Harry liked to think he’d gotten quite good at it.

“That must have been a shock, to find yourself in a different world all of a sudden,” Remus asked while Sirius just kept staring at Harry with a slight frown, as if he couldn’t quite believe that the man sitting opposite him was really the son of his deceased best friend.

Harry shrugged and sipped more tea. “It really wasn’t. The Dursleys kept me in a closet and starved me, so moving to a magical school where I had a warm bed and three meals a day was a vast improvement.” Harry narrowed his eyes as he stared from Remus to Sirius and back a few times. “I really would like to know how I ended up with my mother’s non-magical family while I’m sure you were supposed to look after me.”

A pained grimace appeared on Sirius’ face. “It’s all my fault. I buggered it up.” And with slumped shoulders, Sirius buried his face in his trembling hands.

Gently, Harry extended his magic to brush against the other men’s souls, to get a feel for them. Remus, as expected had a dual soul. They were still one whole, but with two distinct halves. Snape’s soul was whole, but had a bitter feel to it, with a touch of darkness.

And Sirius’ soul was a brittle thing, frayed all around the edges as though many creatures had been nibbling on it for years and years.

“That night, I went after Wormtail. Gave you to Hagrid,” Sirius muttered, not meeting Harry’s eyes with his own, gaze firmly fixated on the table between them. “I’m sorry.”

“I told you!” Lily yelled across the kitchen. “I told you, James, that Sirius was far too immature to be Harry’s godfather, but did you listen?”

James was staring down at Sirius with an utterly disappointed look on his face. “Damn it, Padfoot. I had expected better of you.”

“I told you!” Lily said one last time, just to get her point across.

“What happened next?” Harry asked when it seemed Sirius needed some gentle pressure to keep talking. “Why did you never come for me then?”

“Wormtail lured me into a trap,” Sirius said in a hoarse voice. “Blew up the street and disappeared down the sewers. They believed I was the secret-keeper, tossed me into Azkaban, skipped the trial and threw away the key.”

It took everything Harry had to not show surprise on his face at that revelation. Officially, Harry had no clue what Azkaban really was, of course, but he was shocked to learn his godfather had been in prison.

“I told you!” Lily yelled again, arms firmly crossed as she glared at her husband from across the kitchen. “I told you we should have written and filed a will, in which we documented who the real secret-keeper was, but no, you insisted that writing it down anywhere at all was much too risky.”

James had his head bent and pinched the bridge of his nose while slowly shaking his head. “How the hell did that all go to shit so fast?” he mumbled while Harry kept his own face a blank mask. Thank fuck he’d had many years of experience of not reacting in public to what his invisible family was saying around him.

“What’s Azkaban?” Harry asked, because it was something he should be asking to keep up the charade of his ignorance.

“A magical prison,” Remus explained delicately while Sirius shuddered beside him. “It’s guarded by dementors, foul creatures that cause misery and can suck out a person’s soul.”

“I didn’t do it!” Sirius said as he whipped his head up and glared at Harry with a feral kind of urgency. “I swear it, Harry, I didn’t betray your parents.”

“No one ever told me you did, so it is of no matter to me,” Harry replied with a smile and an easy shrug. Beside him James snorted in amusement at how Harry worded that particular piece of truth without giving anything away. “So they let you out of that prison now?”

Sirius shook his head, face scrunched up in a grimace again. “I escaped, after I learned Wormtail was hiding at Hogwarts. But that scum got away and I’m still on the run.”

Harry blinked, while his parents both inhaled sharp, disbelieving breaths. Sirius was still a fugitive, wanted for crimes he didn’t commit. Harry knew that at the first opportunity he was going to discuss this with his family, see how they could exonerate Sirius and give him his freedom back officially.

A rather stifling silence followed and Remus broke it after a few minutes by offering Harry a sympathetic smile. “You were pulled here unexpectantly, weren’t you? Did you have any friends you left behind? Maybe a girlfriend?”

A wave of grief washed over Harry as he remembered his children. Once Harry had started rebuilding Sildar, he never considered starting a family of his own even though he encouraged others to do so. But a few years after the first families had returned to the island, Harry had been travelling on the mainland, searching for more magical people. He’d felt particularly lonely that evening as he found himself in an inn that served cheap yet excellent wine. There he met a beautiful young woman named Mal, with long, black hair, dark skin and green eyes, and Harry had been in his cups enough that he didn’t even mind that Mal expected a few coins for her company. Harry spent the night in her bed, fucked her three times, and went on his way the next morning, never realizing he’d completely forgotten to use any contraceptive charms.

When he returned to that town some five years later, he came across a young boy who was the spitting image of himself, save for the darker skin, and who stole apples from a cart by floating them towards his hiding spot in a nearby alley.

That’s how Harry learned he had a son, a boy of four named Bildar, and he moved both the kid and Mal to Sildar, where he set them up in a house near his own and Mal started a market garden to earn some coins as she looked after her son, while Harry made sure they lacked for nothing.

Both Harry and Mal were independent souls, liked their privacy and their freedom, and while they got along great they never lived together and were never exclusive in their relationship. James called them ‘friends with benefits’, and that seemed a good enough description.

Both Harry and Mal enjoyed having a child together so much that Harry fathered three more children with her, all girls. Jontar came soon after Mal moved to Sildar, and five years later the twins Roydir and Rindyll followed.

And Harry enjoyed raising his kids and teaching them magic, and whenever he was away, travelling the mainland, he left a few family members behind to teach the kids wizarding magic, just like they’d done with Harry all those years ago. James and Lily were doting grandparents, happy to help wherever they could.

And as his kids grew up they’d given Harry a whopping 23 grandchildren. People were encouraged to have large families on Sildar, to grow the magical population. And since the available healthcare was free and of excellent quality, the jobs were plentiful and the food was abundant, most babies born on the island made it to adulthood and went on to have many children of their own.

Harry had lost count of the number of great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren he had. Seriously, he’d stopped counting when the number topped 150.

Mal had been gone for many years now, and even Bildar and Jontar were already dead, and Roydir and Rindyll were beyond old and frail and wouldn’t be long for the world of the living.

Harry missed them, but knew that once they died he could talk to them as much as he liked, so he could bear the grief that filled him.

Blinking, Harry looked around the room, realizing that he’d silently been reminiscing much too long on his loved ones. He offered Remus a weak smile and said, “I had a girlfriend once. She died. I’d rather not talk about it.”

“How old are you?” Sirius asked while Remus lowered his head in understanding.

“Apparently I’m at least twice as old as I should be,” Harry supplied with a crooked grin. He wasn’t going to tell these men his true age, since he did not trust them enough to divulge any of his secrets, especially when those secrets included so much dark magic and death.

Harry was well aware that his magic of choice, necromancy, was highly illegal in the wizarding world. This bothered him, but he hadn’t had the time yet to really consider what to do about it.

“How curious,” Remus said with a thoughtful nod. “That time can flow so differently.”

“I didn’t even know it flowed differently in Santika,” Harry agreed with a genial smile. “Until I came here and everyone expected me to be fourteen.”

Another few minutes of silence followed as they all finished their tea. It was extraordinarily weird to see the people Harry had heard stories about since he was a kid, in the flesh. Remus seemed a lot more closed and cautious than his fictional counterpart suggested, and Sirius a lot more broken.

Snape, though, seemed a lot like the version Harry had always heard about, and it amused him to no end to see his father scowl in the man’s direction every now and then. Harry wasn’t sure yet what to make of the man. He knew Snape had sided with Voldemort in the past, but given that he was a free man today and even employed at Hogwarts, there was obviously more going on than Harry knew. Of course, Harry was determined to find out everything about Severus Snape and had assigned his mother to spy on him from now on, much to his father’s chagrin.

Hopefully James would be happy to stick with Sirius and Remus from now on, to see what was really going on with those two behind closed doors.

“We knew your parents,” Sirius finally said, and then realized he’d rather stated the obvious. “I mean, we could tell you about them.”

Nodding, Harry gave his godfather a grateful smile. “I would be happy to listen.” And he would be happy to hear about his parents’ life from an outsider. Who knew what kind of dirt Sirius and Remus had on James and Lily that his parents had carefully kept from their son all these years? “I do have some early memories of them. James and Lily Potter. They seemed like wonderful, loving parents.”

“Aww,” Lily crooned while looking at Harry with stars in her eyes. Meanwhile, James snorted and gently smacked Harry on the back of his head in an affectionate gesture with a non-corporal hand, causing V to startle and flap his wings a few times.

“Oh yes,” Remus agreed quickly. “They loved you very much, Harry.”

“They were amazing friends,” Sirius added with a solemn nod. “Light wizards through and through. Always ready to stand against the dark.”

Harry frowned, even though perhaps he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. But perhaps he could spin his supposed ignorance in a way that might help him find a solution for the magical conundrum he found himself stuck with. “Is this a problem here?” Harry asked with a curious tilt of his head. “Dark magic?”

“Of course!” Sirius said at once, sitting up straighter in his chair and giving Harry a challenging look as though daring him to disagree. “Decent witches and wizards avoid dark magic at all costs, as they should.”

Pointedly looking around, Harry waved around the kitchen with a nonchalant gesture. “Yet this house is filled to the brim with dark magic and you seem to live here.”

“It was my parents’ house,” Sirius said with a sulk. “Wretched people.”

“He’s dark,” Harry said with an amused little smile as he gestured at Snape still lurking near the door.

“Well, Snivellus is a wretched person, too, isn’t he?” Sirius firmly crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair while Remus sighed in irritation beside him.

Snape didn’t rise to the bait Sirius had just thrown out but instead kept staring at Harry. “You seem to know an awful lot about dark magic, if you can identify it so easily in others,” Snape said, voice silky smooth.

“In Santika we made no difference between light and dark magic,” Harry explained easily, figuring it was best to get that information out there as soon as possible because it would be impossible for him to hide he was in essence a dark wizard once he started using magic around other people. “We were taught both, we used both in our daily lives, and it worked well for our society. Some sorcerers naturally lean more to one or the other, but everyone was taught at least the basics of both.”

“There are those here that advocate for such an approach as well,” Remus said while Sirius was staring at Harry in obvious shock.

“Yeah, dark wizards, Moony!” Sirius gave his friend an utterly betrayed look.

“And grey wizards,” Remus supplied in an utterly neutral tone. “And even a few light wizards.”

“All good, all good,” V cawed from Harry’s shoulder. V had been surprisingly silent until that moment, but Harry suspected it might be because V was anxious to find out what had happened to his original soul. So far the only thing they’d learned was that Voldemort was dead, had died that night when he’d murdered James and Lily, but that was all they knew.

Yet Harry knew Voldemort couldn’t be dead, because he had a piece of his soul sitting on his shoulder right at that moment.

Another mystery to solve.

“No, it’s not all good,” Sirius snarled at an unrepentant V. “Dark wizards have almost destroyed our society and murdered our friends.”

“All of them?” Harry challenged his godfather gently. “Was it all dark wizards who did that?”

“No,” Remus answered for his friend when all Sirius did was scowl in response.

“Perhaps it is time to wrap up this conversation,” Snape said as he stepped away from the wall. “So you can continue your political debate another time, when I don’t have to suffer through it.”

“Nobody invited you here, Snivellus,” Sirius snarled, and Remus quickly placed a calming hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I do have lots of things to do, still,” Harry agreed easily as he pushed his chair back and got up with a quiet groan. Being forced through an interdimensional portal had been quite painful and a persistent ache still lingered in his muscles. “Get my home set up so I can sleep in my own bed tonight for starters.”

“Of course.” Remus rose as well while Sirius sat sulking in his chair, staring at the opposite wall with a blank gaze. Harry suspected the dementors had done a lot of damage to Sirius’ soul, if the fraying edges were any indication. Harry might be able to heal it with a ritual of sorts, but given Sirius’ attitude against dark magic Harry wasn’t sure if he should even suggest such a thing. A ritual like that was soul magic, one of the darkest kinds of magic there was.

“We hope you’ll visit again soon, Harry.” Remus accompanied them up the stairs and opened the front door for them.

“I will. I might get an owl, so I can send you some letters.” Harry offered his parents’ friend a genuine smile before heading out the dark hallway into the daylight. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Goodbye, Harry.” And with that Remus closed the door and Harry followed Snape down the street.

“I know you are keeping secrets,” Snape said in a quiet yet penetrating voice the moment they crossed the street.

Harry glanced to the side and offered Snape a terribly amused smile. “Of course I’m keeping secrets. Just like you are. We’ve barely met, after all, and we’ve had very little time to get to know each other. I don’t know what you expect of me, but two strangers keeping secrets when they first meet seems like the standard setting for all human interaction.”

Blinking, Snape whipped his head around and glared at Harry, seemingly unsure if Harry was making fun of him or not. Harry wasn’t, not really, but Snape didn’t seem to agree with that and smacked his hand down on Harry’s shoulder and apparated them to the Hogwarts gates as roughly as he probably could.

Thankfully Harry had been apparating his entire life and was used to it, so he stayed on his feet, even if V flapped his wings in annoyance. “Weak wizard, weak wizard,” V cawed while narrowing his beady eyes at Snape, who simply ignored the bird even if his jaws clenched a time or two at being so openly insulted.

Snape said nothing at all as he marched through the gates and away from Harry, apparently done with playing chaperone for the day. Harry didn’t mind. He planned on finding Keket and setting up his home in the forest so he could have some privacy and come up with some plans with his family.

“Potter!” Moody came clunking towards him across the lawn, apparently having been lying in wait, Patroclus floating by his side. Patroclus had worked with Moody when Moody had been an eager new Auror while Patroclus served as the Head of Magical Law Enforcement before his retirement, and thus Harry’s great-grandfather had volunteered to spy on his former colleague.

“Lad,” Moody said as he reached Harry, sounding slightly out of breath. “Do you have time for a chat now? This lack of security bothers me, that children can be snatched away like you’ve been.”

“Sure,” Harry said because he could tell by the frown on Patroclus’ face that something very interesting was going on.

“That man is not Alastor Moody,” Patroclus said while Harry followed Moody to the castle. “I saw him fill his hipflask with Polyjuice potion and he takes a sip every hour on the dot. I don’t know who he really is yet, but I will find out.”

While keeping his expression under control, Harry couldn’t help the sharp flash of excitement that rushed through him. He never had been able to resist a good mystery and apparently there were plenty of those to be found in the wizarding world.

Perhaps coming here hadn’t been such a curse after all. Life in Santika had become a little…stale of late. Sildar was established and thriving, any conflicts internally and externally had long been dealt with and the people closest to Harry were old and dying. Here there were plenty of mysteries to solve and plots to uncover, and Harry clung to that notion so the grief at having lost his home would hopefully lessen sooner rather than later.

While they entered the castle, Harry subtly sent out his magic and brushed it against Moody’s soul. What he found was a fairly young, eager soul, but obviously touched by dark magic.

Definitely not Alastor Moody. Even Harry knew, through the many stories his parents had told him of the Order of the Phoenix, that Moody was a staunch supporter and practitioner of the light.

Ugh. Harry was already growing tired of that silly divide. Even having to consider it in his own head seemed like too much trouble. Why couldn’t people just accept magic in all its amazing facets instead of squabbling over the details?

Not-Moody led Harry to his office, which was cramped and full of spinning artifacts.

“Got to have eyes in the back of my head in my profession, lad,” Moody said as they took seats around his desk. “Got to stay ahead of the enemy.”

Harry nodded his understanding but otherwise remained quiet, while V turned this way or that on his shoulder to observe all the shiny trinkets around the office.

“So, you said this morning that the ritual that took you from us has been destroyed?” Moody said, his artificial eye briefly spinning before it focused on Harry.

“Yes, I burned the scrolls myself and I never read any of them, so that knowledge is gone for good.”

“Excellent!” Moody’s scarred face broke out into a wide grin. “And there are none that might try again in the future to make such a ritual?”

Harry shrugged. “I’m not a psychic, so I cannot predict the future, but the one who invented the ritual in the first place is dead.”

Moody chuckled at that, artificial eye spinning again. “How are you settling in then, lad?”

It was obvious to Harry that this Not-Moody was buttering up to him, trying to become his friend. Seeing as Harry had no clue who he really was, he didn’t feel very inclined to play along. Then again, if he acted the part of lost little lamb he might learn more about the mystery wizard sitting across from him.

Sighing, Harry shook his head, as though already very tired with his current circumstances. “It’s been overwhelming, to tell you the truth.” Perhaps Harry should throw out a little bait for his opponent. “I just learned that people make a big fuss about dark magic, see it as something evil.” Harry looked up at Moody with wide, questioning eyes. “In Santika we never divided magic up like that. We learned magic, dark and light, and that was that.”

Moody’s expression tightened in a very peculiar way, as though he wanted to grin but simultaneously tried to look very serious. “Aye, in this world most people believe those two shouldn’t mix.” Moody leaned forward a little, staring at Harry over his desk. “Let me tell you a secret, lad. In my line of work you either learn that’s a bunch of codswallop, or you don’t make it for very long.”

Patroclus snorted in obvious disagreement from the corner where he was floating.

“Truly?” Harry said with an eager little smile. “So there are people like me here, too?”

“Good, good,” V cawed from his shoulder, and Harry could tell from his tone that he found the whole conversation entirely amusing.

“Maybe I’ll introduce you to a few of them sometime.” Moody slowly rose up from his chair. “It’s time for lunch, though. You can join us in the Great Hall.”

“I am getting hungry,” Harry said as he too got up. It had been more than a few hours since he’d had breakfast in his guest room, so he was ready for a good meal.

The Great Hall was full of buzzing children, who all immediately fell silent as Harry entered. The girl Harry had met that morning, something Granger, waved at him and Harry nodded back at her in greeting.

Dumbledore rose from his seat, smile almost blinding as he waved Harry over. Harry had little choice but to sit down beside Dumbledore at the long teacher’s table, since the headmaster had apparently been saving him a seat.

“Ugly hat, ugly hat,” V cawed while glaring at the purple hat with silver stars Dumbledore was wearing. Beside them, Flitwick choked on his tea, while Harry sighed.

“You did warn me the bird was a troublemaker,” Dumbledore said with a good-natured chuckle.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Harry said, keeping his expression as one of polite amusement, but internally he was cracking up. “Veles is not one to keep his opinion to himself.”

“Some might argue that’s a perfectly fine trait,” Dumbledore said pleasantly as he reached for a bowl of roast potatoes. “Did you have a productive morning?”

“Certainly,” Harry said vaguely, not sure yet how much to tell Dumbledore about anything. “I particularly enjoyed my visit to the bookshop. In Santika, books are something of a rarity.”

Dumbledore seemed genuinely shocked to hear that and he stared at Harry in surprise. “Then I must arrange for someone to show you the library here at Hogwarts.”

“My chaperone already mentioned the library, so yes, I’d be happy to visit it sometime soon.” And that is how Harry spent his meal beside Dumbledore, making polite small-talk while enjoying a fine lunch while a couple of hundred kids stared at him non-stop.

V sat on Harry’s arm and helped himself to whatever he liked from Harry’s plate, as he usually did, but he otherwise kept quiet. Harry wondered what he was thinking about being back at Hogwarts. He knew V had always loved the castle, once upon a time when he’d been part of a whole person.

When the meal was finished and people started leaving the hall, Dumbledore turned to Harry with narrowed eyes. “Harry, might I trouble you to join me in my office now? There are a few important issues I want to talk to you about.”

Harry inhaled a deep breath and then offered Dumbledore an apologetic smile. “Could we perhaps have this meeting tomorrow morning, perhaps after breakfast? I have had an eventful day already, and I would like to seek out Keket and see about setting up my home now.”

“Of course, of course,” Dumbledore agreed quickly. “You have had quite a shock, I understand. I will see you tomorrow after breakfast then.”

As Harry left the hall there were quite a few students who seemed to want to talk to him, but Harry rushed past them while only offering them polite smiles. Thankfully he made it out of the castle without anyone stopping him, and when he reached the edge of the forest he already found Keket waiting for him.

“Did you find us a good spot?” Harry asked as he stroked her across her head.

Keket rumbled in agreement and loped off. Harry followed her, enjoying a nice stroll after his meal, while V took the time to stretch his wings as he soared between the trees.

The spot Keket had selected was lovely. A little meadow, surrounded by tall trees but with plenty of natural light, not that far from a gentle brook. Harry looked around, sending out his magic to get a feel for the place, and then he started applying wards all around the meadow. Snape’s tales of giant spiders didn’t sit that well with him, so powerful wards it was.

After the site had been prepared, Harry opened his satchel and summoned the box he kept his home in. It had taken a few decades to perfect this kind of magic, but Harry was now able to shrink his entire home and keep it safely in a box with him at all times, and then enlarging it whenever he had need of it.

And thus, like a pop-up tent, Harry arranged his home, a small castle these days, inside the meadow. It was a structure Harry had created for himself, piece by piece, inspired by all the stories of Hogwarts he’d heard from his family. Of course, now that he’d seen the real Hogwarts, Harry knew that his home was but a tiny interpretation of the real thing, but he still found it an utterly comfortable abode.

The moment Harry opened the oak doors, Igor was there to greet him with his customary, “Eurgh.”

Igor was Harry’s first successful foray into creating the walking dead. Or as Lily and his family insisted, making an inferius. Igor was a reanimated body without a soul, who was still capable of simple thought and was therefore also capable of following simple commands.

Igor was in essence Harry’s undead butler. The body was one of a young man with a terminal disease which promised a drawn-out, painful death, who’d offered Harry the use of his body in return for a quick, painless death, which Harry had granted him by way of the killing curse.

It was Lily who had suggested Harry name him Igor, but why, Harry hadn’t a clue.

“Can you get me some wine?” Harry asked his butler as he handed him his cloak while V flew inside the castle and circled around the entryway. After Keket slipped inside, Igor closed the door and Harry strolled through the stone corridor to the sitting room on the right while Keket followed the same route on the ceiling. He needed to think and organize his thoughts and set some priorities for what needed to be done.

Already he had a couple of mysteries to solve and that didn’t even include the blasted tournament he was supposed to take part in. He needed to study that, too.

Before Harry could sit down on the couch in front of the fireplace, there was a knock on the door. Harry stood frozen for a second while he saw Igor shuffle through the corridor to answer it. Harry rushed after him, not sure if he wanted anyone in the wizarding world to see his undead butler just yet.

But Igor was quicker than he looked and had opened the door before Harry reached him. “Eurgh?”

Something Granger and two boys stood on his doorstep, gaping up at Igor with wide eyes.

“Thank you, you can go,” Harry said, shouldering Igor to the side and looking down at the kids with an impatient smile. “Can I help you?”

Something Granger swallowed thickly before finding her voice. “Was that man alright? He looked a little…grey.”

Harry shrugged, as though he’d never even noticed the unusual complexion of his butler. “He’s fine, I’m sure. Look, kids, I’ve had an eventful morning and I need a few hours to myself right now, so I’d appreciate it if you stated your case quickly.”

The blond boy gulped and took a step closer, holding out something made of cloth that shimmered in the sunlight. “We followed you, sorry about that. We used the invisibility cloak Professor Dumbledore gave me in my first year. He told us it belonged to you, that your dad had left it with him, but that I could have it.” The boy ducked his head while he briefly glanced down at his shoes. “It’s a Potter heirloom, though, so it belongs to you.”

Harry stared with wide eyes at the invisibility cloak the boy held out to him. How often hadn’t he heard his father talk about it in his many stories about Hogwarts?

“Thank you,” Harry finally managed to say in a rather thick voice. He gently accepted the cloak from the boy. “What was your name, kid?”

“I’m Neville Longbottom, Sir.” The boy gestured to his two companions. “This is Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.”

“Hi,” Ron Weasley said with a little wave. “You should have been in our year. I mean, if you were your real age. I mean, if you hadn’t been kidnapped.” Ron snapped his mouth shut and seemed to regret ever having learned the ability to speak.

Chuckling, Harry took in the kids while he caressed the cloak in his hands. He considered inviting the kids in, even if it was only to see how much information he could get out of them about Hogwarts and the upcoming tournament. But before Harry could do so, Patroclus came flying through the wall.

“Call the family, Harry. I have news that cannot wait!”

Harry gave the kids a quick smile. “My thanks, truly. This means a lot. How about you come back some other time and I’ll invite you in.”

“Okay, we’ll do that.” Neville was the first to turn around, while Hermione took a few more seconds to crane her neck and try to see inside the castle, while Ron’s face had taken blushing to a whole new level while he seemed to regret many of his recent life choices.

Nodding one last time at the kids, Harry closed the door and immediately brushed his thumb across his amulet and seconds later his whole family was gathered around him in the entranceway. V came flying from the sitting room, curious to see what was going on.

Patroclus stared at Harry with an intense gaze. “Voldemort isn’t dead. I saw him with my own eyes when I followed the Moody imposter just now, who I believe may be the son of Bartemius Crouch. At least he looked like the spitting image of a younger version of him once the Polyjuice potion wore off.”

Harry swallowed before inhaling a deep breath. Now that was a twist he hadn’t seen coming. V cawed a few times as he landed on Harry’s shoulder while around them his family muttered urgently amongst themselves.

“Hey,” James yelped suddenly, startling just about everyone. “Is that my invisibility cloak?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

The wards told Voldemort Barty was visiting, for which he was secretly more than glad. Voldemort hated to admit it, but he had spent half the night tossing and turning, unable to get the image of Harry Potter and his unfamiliar magic out of his head. Not for the first time Voldemort thought that things probably would have been a lot easier if Potter hadn’t grown up in a mystery world where he learned magic that was unknown to anyone in the wizarding world but Potter himself.

Not for the first time that day, Voldemort cursed the blasted prophecy that still loomed over his head.

Voldemort arrived at his office the same time Barty did, and the first thing Barty did was give him a huge grin.

“I’ve got some interesting memories for you to see, my Lord.” Barty had his wand out in a flash and pulled three strands of silvery memories out of his head and dumped them in the waiting pensieve.

Voldemort didn’t say anything as he lowered his head and soon found himself standing in Hogwarts’ entrance hall. There he watched as Barty approached an obviously cautious Potter to make contact under the mum of security concerns. The encounter was brief before Severus showed up to take Potter to Diagon Alley.

Hmm. Perhaps it was time to summon Severus and see what he had to say about their long lost adversary. Now, Voldemort was no fool and he understood that Severus had struck some sort of deal with Dumbledore to work at Hogwarts while keeping out of Azkaban. After Voldemort’s disappearance, Igor Karkaroff had given up all the names of the remaining Death Eaters, Severus Snape amongst them. For that reason alone the Ministry would have thrown Severus into Azkaban, but Dumbledore had shielded Voldemort’s spy. And Voldemort understood all too well that such favours from the old man came at a price.

As of yet, Dumbledore had no solid proof Voldemort had returned. All he knew for certain was that Quirrell had done away with the Philosopher’s Stone. The old man probably had his suspicions, but he had no evidence to convince anyone else and therefor Voldemort could proceed with his plans as he wished. But Severus blabbing to Dumbledore that Voldemort had returned might ruin that opportunity. No, Voldemort knew he had to proceed with caution while it came to his wayward spy, but he reasoned that he might secure Severus’ real loyalty with an Unbreakable Vow.

The next memory was far more interesting.

Barty intercepted Potter the moment he returned to Hogwarts and lured him to his office. Potter came along easily, his attitude pleasant enough, but his eyes were ever sharp even if he said very little at all.

The bird was also a point of interest. It sat securely on Potter’s shoulder, as a pet bird might be trained to do, but its eyes were equally as sharp as Potter’s while it looked around Barty’s office.

Voldemort didn’t much like birds, or any pets that wasn’t a snake. Nagini was currently sunbathing in the conservatory after Voldemort had retrieved her from his safehouse. She was intelligent and independent and the perfect companion, as far as Voldemort was concerned. He couldn’t imagine ever keeping a pet bird around that wasn’t an owl relegated to the outside owlery.

And then the memory took an unexpected turn.

Potter confessed that he practised dark magic, had been using it his entire life. Couldn’t even understand why it was so frowned upon in the wizarding world.

Voldemort’s heartbeat increased while his mind spun with possibilities. After all, the easiest way to do away with the threat of Potter and the prophecy was to recruit the man to their side. And by the looks of it, recruiting him under the banner of decriminalizing all banned magic might be easier than previously expected.

Voldemort carefully took in Potter’s expressions, and how he chose his words, and it was obvious to Voldemort that Potter was playing it up a bit for Barty, was throwing out a bit of bait to see if Barty would bite. But that was not unexpected if Potter was a true dark wizard who suddenly found himself stuck in a world where only light magic was seen as legitimate and desired.

The next memory was that of Potter joining Dumbledore for lunch in the Great Hall. Barty sat on Dumbledore’s other side, so while he mostly kept to himself for the meal, he did still overhear all that was said between Potter and Dumbledore.

And while the conversation between those two was comprised entirely of utterly tedious small-talk, Voldemort did still learn a very important thing.

Potter did not trust Dumbledore one bit. Didn’t even seem to like him much, Voldemort was sure.

Every time Dumbledore tried to entice Potter to divulge a little more information, to open up just a bit more, Potter expertly looped the conversation back to polite small-talk as one might expect between two strangers.

Potter absolutely knew what he was doing. This was no naïve young man who barely knew how to hold a wand. This was a powerful man who knew how to navigate unwelcome social situations with ease while giving nothing of importance away.

Oh, Voldemort found himself utterly intrigued by this man. And extremely curious what kind of life Potter had led in the mystery world that had given him the experience needed to act the way he did now.

“Thank you, Barty,” Voldemort said as he pulled away from the pensieve. “That was most illuminating.”

“Wasn’t it just?” Barty said with a cackle, leaning back in the chair in front of Voldemort’s desk where he’d been waiting. “I told you he was dark! I just knew it, that magic he used when he first showed up was as dark as can be.”

“It certainly seems that way.” Voldemort sat down behind his desk and folded his hands so he could rest his chin on them while he stared ahead, deep in thought. “I want you to draw him out a little more, Barty. See how much Potter is willing to admit about using dark magic.” Voldemort looked at Barty with narrowed eyes. “And I want you to see what you can find out about Severus’ deal with Dumbledore. We need to know what side Severus is actually loyal to.”

“To tell it true, my Lord, I think only Snape knows the real answer to that question,” Barty replied with a snort.

Voldemort chuckled and then nodded in agreement. “You make a good point. You may go, Barty.”

With a bow Barty left the office and Voldemort leaned back in his chair. It seemed that his plans for the future would need to be adjusted.

00000000000

“Excuse me?” Lily demanded with a glare while both Fleamont and Henry rushed over to join Harry and James so they, too, could admire the invisibility cloak. “We just got news Voldemort is back and all you suddenly care about is your stupid invisibility cloak?”

“My dear child,” Henry said, looking completely aghast by Lily’s accusations. “Have a care. This is Ignotus Peverell’s cloak, given to him by death himself!”

Lily’s mouth fell open in a way that seemed to indicate she only now realized what kind of family exactly she’d married into. “Unbelievable,” Lily said to no one in particular. “Fucking unbelievable.”

“Take care of that cloak,” Fleamont urged his grandson. “It truly is one of a kind.”

“I will,” Harry said solemnly while folding the cloak in his hands as best as he could before sliding it in the satchel on his belt. Harry knew all too well how much the cloak meant to his family from the many stories James, Fleamont and Henry had told him about it.

“You know, there still should be a copy of the Marauder’s Map stored somewhere at Hogwarts,” James mused with a thoughtful frown.

“James!” Lily cried while she threw both hands up in utter despair. “Voldemort, you know, that bastard who murdered us both and tried to murder our infant son, is back and he’ll want to finish the job he started back in 1981.”

“Oh, right,” James said, finally seeming to snap out of whatever wave of nostalgia had overwhelmed him for a moment. “Sorry, Harry.”

“It’s fine,” Harry sighed, glad to see Igor shuffling into the hallway, holding a serving tray with a glass and a bottle of wine on it. Harry met Igor halfway and snatched up the glass, quickly filling it from the bottle he decided to keep with him. “Go run me a bath,” Harry told his undead butler while he downed a full glass of wine and quickly refilled it.

The only way he was going to be able to deal with the situation that had suddenly arisen was some serious day-drinking.

Around him his family got back to discussing the subject of Voldemort’s return, but Harry could hardly care about that.

The thing was, to Harry, Lord Voldemort seemed like an afterthought, a done deal, a boogieman that had featured in stories his parents had told him when he was a child but that had lost their fear factor the moment he grew up.

Harry had defeated a Dark Lord a hundred times more powerful than Voldemort could ever hope to be when he was only seventeen and while he was still pretty much a sheltered little swot. Nowadays, Harry had singlehandedly rebuilt a whole magical community and led its people to success and victory more times than he could remember.

Not to mention one of his best friends for well over a hundred years was a chatty piece of Voldemort’s soul that masqueraded as a raven. V had proven his worth since the day he appeared in Harry’s life, saving Harry’s life more times than Harry could remember and even coming up with the plan that ultimately saw Rylan killed for good.

Of course, Harry had never told his family the truth about V the moment he’d figured it out. His family had asked him plenty of times where V came from, and eventually Harry had told them part of the truth, that V was a guide gifted to him by the Figures in the deathlands, and that his name was Veles, since Harry thought perhaps simply using V might arise some suspicion with his parents. It never did, though, and his parents accepted V as a normal part of Harry’s life pretty much from the start.

So Harry hadn’t really lied to his family, since he had told them the truth. He simply hadn’t told them all of it. Harry thought it wouldn’t matter anyway since he lived in Santika and as far as he was concerned would someday die there as well, and so would V.

Even though V was a part of Voldemort’s soul, he was still connected to Harry. Once Harry died, V would perish as well. They were both aware of this and they had both accepted that long ago.

Harry downed his second glass of wine and then held up both his hands, glass and bottle on display. “Enough!” he yelled, because the loud arguments that had erupted between his family members were giving him a headache. “How about we all give Voldemort’s return some thought and maybe come up with some plans, and then tomorrow we’ll have a meeting to discuss those in a civilized manner.” And before anyone could respond, Harry dismissed them all back to their spying positions with a small burst of his powers.

Ah. Silence.

Harry refilled his glass just as V came flying over from the banister to sit on his shoulder.

“Trouble, trouble,” V cawed while Harry slowly trudged up the stone staircase in search of a hot bath. His muscles and joints truly were aching.

“I certainly hope not,” Harry said, sipping his wine. He placed the glass on the edge of the sink the moment he entered the bathroom where a steaming claw-footed tub stood waiting, courtesy of Igor. “Whatever it means, we don’t have to worry about it right this moment.”

Harry started taking his clothes off while V hopped onto the counter, eyeing him up and down with a tilt of his head.

“Shave, shave,” V cawed just as Harry stepped out of his pants and was completely naked.

Chuckling, Harry stared at his reflection in the large mirror over the sink. “Not today, my friend.”

“Stupid beard,” V chattered with a shake of his head.

Harry actually liked his long beard. It had taken some getting used to the first time he’d grown it, but nowadays he appreciated how he looked. The problem with not aging as fast as those around you was that you kept looking very young while others matured, and as a result Harry started noticing about halfway throughout his long life, that people started taking him less seriously. Growing his hair and beard out had helped significantly with that, while it also helped to mask the fact that Harry wasn’t aging much at all.

Brushing his fingers against the summoning amulet and the bloodstone he kept on a necklace at all times, Harry knew exactly why he didn’t age as others did, of course.

As it turned out, Rylan had been greedy monster. While Rylan had been a talented and powerful necromancer, he hadn’t possessed nearly as much natural talent for other types of sorcery. And so Rylan had adapted the ritual of immortality in ways that also allowed him to steal the power of magical children to add to his own minimal skills in sorcery.

The thing was, Harry was a born wizard, and a very powerful one at that. He didn’t need any outside sources of magic or power because he had plenty of his own. And the bloodstone, which had been fully powered by Rylan through dozens and dozens of child sacrifices, only had to give up its magic in minimal amounts to keep Harry young.

Honestly, Harry had no idea how long it would take for the bloodstone to run out, but it didn’t seem to be anytime soon by the looks of him.

Harry was tall and reasonably well-muscled, with a dusting of chest hair and plenty of scars covering his body. He looked in his prime, had looked in his prime for over a century. Though some days Harry did feel his age the older he got, like a lingering ache inside his bones he couldn’t quite get rid of, but none of that ever showed in his physique.

“Fill sink, fill sink,” V demanded while he hopped around on the counter.

With a smile, Harry did exactly that and when there were a few inches of lukewarm water sitting in the sink, V hopped right in for his own bath.

Harry grabbed his glass of wine and carefully lowered himself into the steaming tub, groaning as the hot water engulfed his aching body.

Closing his eyes, Harry sank down until the water reached his chin, sipping more wine. “Maybe we should just focus on creating a ritual to get back home. I’m sure Karakas would help.”

“No time, no time,” V cawed while he splashed around in the sink, sending drops of water flying everywhere while all his black feathers stood on end.

“Huh?” Harry cracked one eye open and eyed his companion. “What do you mean?”

“Time too fast,” V pointed out with a sharp look, clicking his beak a few times.

Harry sat up a little in alarm. “Fuck,” he said, with feeling.

It had utterly escaped Harry that since time moved faster in Santika, that also had consequences for his potential return. Harry did some quick math in his head. Here he was supposed to be 14 years old, yet in Santika he’d aged easily ten times as fast. So roughly for every one year in the wizarding world, ten passed in Santika.

“Well, there goes that plan,” Harry sighed, sinking back into the water. He didn’t want to return to Santika years later only to find more members of his family had died and Harry hadn’t been there to support his loved ones.

“Home, home,” V insisted while staring at Harry.

“You mean, we’re home now?” Harry guessed. He had become rather good at interpreting all the things V meant to say in his limited vocabulary.

V bobbed his head up and down a few times.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed quietly as he emptied his glass. “I suppose we are home at last. It just doesn’t feel like it.”

“More time,” V offered, flying over to perch on the edge of the bathtub near Harry’s head.

Harry stroked a few fingers up and down V’s feathery chest. “Yeah, we’ll give it some more time.”

It wasn’t until his skin started pruning and the water had cooled significantly that Harry got out of the tub. He dried himself with a few simple charms and then moved to his bedroom to dress in a fresh attire.

Next order of business was taking stock of what he all had. Harry liked to keep his castle full of all necessities but occasionally things did run out. Harry started in the basement, where the wine cellar was full, naturally, and the root cellar also had plenty of crops and meats and wheels of cheese under preservation charms to see them through a winter or two easily.

The pantry in the kitchen revealed a few sacks of flour and oats, pots of salt, sugar and honey and many different herbs and spices Harry had picked up during his many travels. There were also plenty of eggs, jars of pickles and olives and many bags of dried fruit and nuts.

Well, they weren’t starving anytime soon.

Of course, Harry had a small mountain of gold and chests of gemstones hidden in his castle so even if food ran out they had plenty of money to buy more supplies. Not to mention that Harry now had access to his family’s vault at Gringotts, which also held plenty of gold.

Yeah, Harry didn’t have to worry about finding a paying job anytime soon, which was probably a good thing because he had plenty on his mind.

Lastly, Harry wandered to the castle library, which comprised the centre of the structure. It was an enormous hall, magically expanded, easily the size of Hogwarts’ great hall. Around the room sat various comfortable chairs and tables, and a large desk stood in front of the biggest windows. And all along the walls, up to the high ceiling, were shelves filled with books.

Once upon a time books had been rare and expensive in Santika. Then Harry and his family had introduced the magical printing press and since that moment Harry has seriously started collecting books. It was made especially easy because Harry was gifted in charms and copying a whole book was as easy as swishing his wand. As a result, Sildar had several extensive libraries, and so did Harry personally.

Throughout his travels, Harry had made it a point to always copy any book he encountered, and thus his collection was vast and eclectic.

Harry sat behind his desk, grabbed a sheet of paper and a self-inking quill and thought about what he needed to do over the coming days and weeks. Research the upcoming tournament, that was an important thing not to forget, so Harry added that to the top of his list. He also added Sirius’ lack of trial and finding a ritual to heal Sirius’ soul. Somewhere at the bottom Harry put Voldemort with a question mark because he honestly wasn’t even sure if Voldemort even was a problem.

And if he was, Harry might just send Keket to fix the issue. It worked with Rylan, after all.

Speaking of the beast, Keket came slinking into the library by way of the wall and settled on her favourite bearskin rug in front of the window beside Harry’s desk.

“Some watchdog you are,” Harry muttered while leaning back in his seat, giving Keket a fond smile. “Three kids snuck past you today.”

Keket rumbled in a way that told Harry she’d been well aware kids were around but simply hadn’t deemed them a threat so she’d ignored them. And Harry’s wards were such that anyone could enter them as long as they had no ill intentions against Harry and his family.

“Still,” Harry told his beastly friend. “Maybe a little warning next time would be nice.”

Keket produced a few clicking sounds that sounded suspiciously like laughing.

Around dinnertime Harry made his way to the kitchen. Sadly, Igor had many talents, but his cooking skills were downright abysmal. Thankfully, Euphemia had always insisted Harry learn all manner of household magic, which meant that nowadays Harry could produce a culinary feast with just a few flicks of his wand.

In no time Harry had a meat, potato and barley stew put together that would see him fed for almost a whole week, and he took a bowl with him to the living room, to enjoy on the sofa while he relaxed. As always V was there to eat his own fill, but Harry didn’t mind.

Afterwards, Igor took the dishes away and Harry decided to call it a night, tired from all the things that had happened over the past days.

V perched on Harry’s headboard, tucking his head under a wing while Harry pulled the blanket over himself while extinguishing the oil lamps with a wave of his hand.

It was only when Harry stood in front of the sink the next morning to brush his teeth and try to tame his hair that he remembered he had an appointment with Dumbledore.

Ugh. Harry did not look forward to that, since the old man gave Harry all sorts of negative impressions the more time Harry spent with him. Hopefully Harry would get some answers soon about why Dumbledore seemed so elated with Harry’s return, but if Harry had to guess it had probably something to do with Voldemort.

After a quick breakfast of oatmeal porridge with dried fruit and nuts, Harry pulled on his boots and his cloak and left his castle to go visit the bigger one next door. V joined him but Keket opted to remain behind, to explore the forest some more. That was fine by Harry, since he didn’t expect to need his murder friend anytime soon.

Besides, if push came to shove, Harry was plenty capable of murdering someone himself.

Dumbledore stood waiting for Harry in the entrance hall. “Ah, Mr Potter, right on time. I trust you found a place to put your dwelling?”

“Sure did,” Harry said with a smile which lacked any real warmth. “A nice little meadow, not that far from here.”

“Excellent.” Dumbledore led Harry towards his office while making some small-talk about some of the portraits and statues of armour they passed, and Harry politely nodded along, not giving anything away about what was really going on in his mind.

“Here we are,” Dumbledore said as the gargoyle moved to the side to allow them entrance. What an interesting kind of magic, Harry thought. He might have to look into creating something like that for his own castle.

“Please have a seat.” Dumbledore sat down behind a large desk while Harry sat down in front of it, looking around the office a few times, but he’d also seen plenty of it during the night of his arrival.

“Harry,” Dumbledore started while his expression changed from genial to utterly serious. “I have a few things to discuss with you that are, I’m afraid to say, a matter of life or death.”

Harry nodded at the headmaster to continue, keeping his own expression as mildly interested without any real concern.

“Lord Voldemort murdered your parents, and then tried to kill you, which backfired on him.”

“I am aware,” Harry said in a quiet voice.

“What you may not know,” Dumbledore continued, leaning forward to give Harry a piercing look. “Is that Voldemort did not die that night. Through the use of vile magics, though what these are I am not yet completely sure, Voldemort assured his own survival.” Dumbledore paused for a moment for maximum effect. “Lord Voldemort has returned and is active once more.”

Harry sat perfectly still and didn’t say a word, as though the news Dumbledore had just given him wasn’t even worth commenting on.

“This does not concern you?” Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes wide in obvious surprise.

“Not really, no,” Harry said with a careless shrug.

Slowly rising from his desk, Dumbledore frowned. “It concerns you more than you may know, my dear…Harry.” Dumbledore retrieved a stone basin from a cabinet which he placed on his desk between them. With a tap of Dumbledore’s wand the basin activated and a figure of a shimmering woman floated above it.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… The one with the power the vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…”

Harry’s heart raced while his mind tried to make sense of all he’d just heard, yet his face was utterly blank.

“As you see,” Dumbledore said with a solemn nod, “Sybill Trelawney uttered a prophecy in my company that points very clearly to you, my…Harry.” Another pause for dramatic effect. “Only you can defeat Lord Voldemort.”

Snorting, Harry shook his head, which soon transformed into booming laughter. “You believe in soothsayers here?” More loud, obnoxious laughter, while Harry slapped his own thigh to add to the image he was trying to project. “In Santika we only entertain fortune-tellers during festivals, while we’re all well into our cups!”

Dumbledore could no longer hide some of the obvious frustration he had to be feeling, his eyes narrowing while his lips pinched into a thin line. “I assure you, Mr Potter, the prophecy is real. Your parents died for it.”

Harry’s laughter stopped to be replaced with clear disbelief. “My parents were murdered over some hack uttering a few vague words that could mean many different things to different people?”

“The prophecy is quite true,” Dumbledore insisted, genial mask slipping more and more until a man on the verge of true anger remained.

“I don’t believe it,” Harry said with finality. “In Santika, we make our own destiny. So has it always been done, and so it shall remain.”

“You cannot outrun fate, no matter how hard you try.”

“I’m not outrunning anything,” Harry said while giving Dumbledore a long, steady look. “I merely go about my own way, and if anything falls in my path that needs cleaning up, I’ll do exactly that. But I refuse to involve myself in a conflict that’s not my own.”

Sighing deeply, Dumbledore sat back and bowed his head. “I suppose I will just have to put my faith in the prophecy then, instead of you personally.”

“If you prefer soothsayers over reality, that is your choice.” Harry got up at once while V flapped his wings in surprise. “I have much to do, so this is to be the end of our meeting.”

“There is one last thing, Harry,” Dumbledore said before Harry could reach the door. “Severus mentioned you’ve been trained in dark magic.”

Harry nodded while offering Dumbledore an entirely unconcerned look. “We receive training in all aspects of magic in Santika.”

“That is not the case here.” Dumbledore’s mask of geniality made a quick return. Harry used some of his power to get a sense of the man’s soul. It felt old and sickly sweet, with an underlying arrogance and darkness that seemed entirely contrary. “In this world, Mr Potter, we practice only light magic. In fact, several types of dark magic are highly illegal and will earn you a lengthy prison sentence.”

“As will committing no crime at all, I heard,” Harry pointed out, unable to resist. “My godfather apparently never even had a trial before they locked him up. So you will have to excuse me if I don’t take your judicial system very seriously. I wish you a good day.” And with that, Harry marched out of the office.

Harry left the castle in a hurry, mind whirling with questions. He really wanted to talk to his family about everything he’d learned.

Because that prophecy that Harry had just heard fit him perfectly, when you considered Rylan as the Dark Lord in question. Of course, Harry couldn’t very well tell Dumbledore that, because then he’d have to explain how Harry’s parents had defied Rylan and he couldn’t do that without revealing his necromancy and Harry wasn’t about to tell Dumbledore that he essentially had a highly sophisticated network of invisible spies at his beck and call.

Still, Harry was convinced that prophecy had been fulfilled. Then what did Voldemort have to do with anything, and why had his parents been really killed?

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

Once seated behind his desk in the library, Harry wrote down the prophecy word for word. Then he brushed his thumb across his amulet and in moments his family appeared around him.

Before Harry could even start to explain what had just happened, Auntie Eustice cleared her throat and gave Harry a rather disappointed look. “Since you forgot to assign someone to spy on Voldemort yesterday before you so suddenly dismissed us, I have taken up that particular job myself. You’re welcome.”

“Oh?” Lily floated over to Auntie Eustice. “What did you see? What did Voldemort do?”

Auntie Eustice took a moment to gaze around the circle of family, making sure she had everyone’s undivided attention. “I saw a man who is very tall, and very handsome. Really, quite sophisticated.” Auntie Eustice ignored Lily’s loud noise of disbelief. “And he has a library! Not in the Muggle mansion he’s staying at, though he has an interesting collection of books there as well. I followed him to his private home, a lovely cottage somewhere in the countryside, magically expanded on the inside, of course, and with one of the most amazing libraries I have ever seen. Truly magnificent.”

“Yes, yes,” Patroclus said with an impatient wave of his hand. “But what did Voldemort actually do?”

“Went back to his Muggle mansion with a few books and started reading a most fascinating treatise on the use of rhodium in alchemy, which you must procure, nephew, because the author just got to the point after a hundred pages of tedious research and your summoning made me miss it.” Auntie Eustice gave Harry a flinty look.

Patroclus ran both hands down his face while heaving a deep sigh. Meanwhile, Dorea and Charis seemed mostly amused while Lily appeared close to blowing up right in Auntie Eustice’s face.

“Dumbledore showed me the prophecy,” Harry blurted, because he had no desire to sit through his family’s usual bickering while there were real problems to be solved. He couldn’t give two shits what Voldemort had done that day, though the library did sound intriguing.

“What prophecy?” Euphemia asked with a confused curve of her eyebrows. Most others had similar looks on their faces.

Most, but not all.

James and Lily looked utterly resigned as they floated closer to Harry’s desk.

“You knew?” Harry asked quietly, unsure how he was supposed to feel about this. Apparently he wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.

“Harry,” Lily said with a sigh as she gave her son a pleading look. “You were so young when we first told you about Voldemort and the wizarding war.”

“And later you had all that nasty business with Rylan,” James added with a shrug while offering Harry a sympathetic smile. “And once you started rebuilding Sildar and it seemed that you’d be spending the rest of your life there it hardly mattered anymore.”

“All right.” Harry nodded few times, letting all that sink in. He could understand his parents’ reasoning. It amused him that in some ways their reasoning was similar to his own reasoning of keeping V’s origins a secret.

“Besides,” Lily added. “Dumbledore only ever told us the first few lines of the prophecy, and they were so vague we were never even sure if they applied to you.” Lily glanced down, smile slipping off her face. “Though I suppose Voldemort believed it enough to come after us.”

“I got the whole prophecy right here.” Harry waved the sheet of paper around a few times and at once he was crowded by his ghostly family members.

“Hold still, boy!” Auntie Eustice demanded. “Let us read.”

When a few moments had passed, Harry decided to drop his metaphorical bomb. “I think it does apply to me. And to Rylan.”

“It’s been fulfilled!” Charis said, eyes wide in shock. “Harry, you’re right. It all fits.”

Again all his family members crowded around him to study the prophecy once more, but now with the knowledge that it might be about Rylan instead of Voldemort.

“Does it all fit, though?” James asked a little dubiously. “Thrice defied him?”

“How often have you been spying on Rylan without his knowledge?” Charlus pointed out with a snort. “That counts as ‘defying’ in my book.”

“Exactly,” Dorea agreed with a firm nod.

“There is a way to check if the prophecy has truly been fulfilled,” Henry said, at once drawing everyone’s attention to him. “You can visit the Department of Mysteries and see for yourself if the prophecy orb has dulled. The Unspeakables can tell you more about the whole process, I’m sure.”

“I can just walk into the Ministry and knock on the door of the Department of Mysteries?” Harry asked while pulling his to-do list closer so he could add this latest chore to it.

“I don’t see why not,” Bernadine said and several others nodded in agreement. “The prophecy pertains to you, so they should allow you access.”

“It never hurts to ask,” Euphemia added with a bright smile.

“All right,” Harry said, leaning back in his chair with an enormous sigh. “But if this is true, then this whole Voldemort thing becomes moot.”

James gave his son a stern look. “Voldemort is still a threat to this world.”

Snickering, Harry gestured at Auntie Eustice. “Not according to her. Apparently the man likes to read boring books instead of dominating society nowadays."

“I never said that book was boring,” Auntie Eustice objected at once. “Just a little wordy in places and the author took his time to get to the climax, that’s all.”

“Look,” Harry said while he crossed his arms and looked up at his parents with a tilt of his head. “Should Voldemort start raping and murdering little kids, I’ll send Keket after him, I promise. But until that time, I have other things on my mind.”

“Such as?” Lily asked in a challenging tone.

“The tournament, for one. Sirius’ illegal imprisonment, let’s not forget that.” Harry narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward. “Oh, and the fact that I’m a dark wizard now stuck in a world where half of the magic I regularly use would earn me an immediate death sentence.”

“Wait, wait,” Dorea said as she approached Harry, eyes wide in shock. “Sirius’ illegal imprisonment?”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed when his parents didn’t reply to his summation. “He never got a trial before they chucked him into Azkaban.”

“That is…” Charis pursed her lips tightly, while she shared a dark look with Dorea.

“I’m open to suggestions on how to get him cleared of all false charges,” Harry said, because he honestly had no idea how to even start on that. He knew lots about the wizarding world, all from his family’s many stories, but he wasn’t necessarily familiar with who ran what in the Ministry at that time.

“Go to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and demand the man be given a trial,” Patroclus said without reservation. “And do not accept no for an answer.”

Harry added it to his to-do list with a small sigh. He had so much to do, just for himself, and his parents expected him to go and fight Voldemort on top of that, just for shits and giggles or something.

Of course, that wasn’t entirely true. Harry knew very well that Voldemort was the man who’d killed his parents and for that he deserved to pay. Yet, it was such a long time ago and Harry had never really had to miss his parents because they’d been by his side for almost his entire life, so he simply didn’t feel the need for personal revenge.

Not to mention that Voldemort seemed to have been motivated by a prophecy that didn’t even necessarily apply to him.

Wait…

Harry sat up and looked around his family. “Dumbledore said that someone named Sybill Trelawney had spoken the prophecy in front of him. Then how did Voldemort find out about it?”

“Oh.” Lily scrunched her face up in thought. “A Death Eater overheard Dumbledore, wasn’t that what happened?”

“Yeah, I think so,” James said, though he didn’t sound entirely sure either.

“Huh.” Harry wasn’t sure what to make of that. A prophecy spoked to Dumbledore but conveniently overheard by a Death Eater and thus ensuring Voldemort would act on that prophecy. Yeah, Harry wasn’t born yesterday. That sounded like something a great manipulator may have come up with, and by now Harry was certain that Albus Dumbledore was exactly such a person who loved nothing more than to pull other people’s strings from behind the curtain.

So, Harry had to find out all he could about the history of that prophecy and the attack on his parents. He added it to his to-do list.

“All right.” Harry pushed himself up from his chair, stretching his arms over his head. “Anyone anything to report from their missions?”

“I followed the phoenix,” Charis said, which explained why Harry hadn’t seen her around Dumbledore earlier. “That poor bird gets used like a common post owl, it seems.”

“Dumb bird,” V cackled from his elaborate perch beside Harry’s desk.

“Anyway,” Charis continued, wisely ignoring the interruption, since she’d been dealing with V and his comments for well over a century. “I am convinced that Dumbledore has no idea Moody is an imposter. And when I returned Dumbledore was pacing his office and ranting about being disrespected and disobeyed.”

Harry outright laughed at hearing that. “Yeah, that was me. If that man thinks I’m a mindless puppet he can control he’s in for a very big surprise.”

“Harry…” Lily said with a rather tired look. “Dumbledore is not your enemy.”

“And yet the man threatened to see me imprisoned for some of the magic I use,” Harry said before dismissing his family back to their spying jobs. Let his parents think on that bit of information for a while.

As a rule, Harry was a guy who liked to get shit done. If something needed doing, Harry preferred to do it right away instead of drawing it out for no reason at all.

So Harry got his cloak, picked up his broom from the closet in the hallway, and left his castle. He flew towards Hogsmeade, since the wards around Hogwarts and the forest didn’t allow apparition, while V flew by his side. Once he arrived in the village, Harry shrunk his broom and slipped it inside his satchel before making his way inside The Three Broomsticks.

“Greetings, good innkeeper!” Harry bellowed the moment he spotted what had to be Madam Rosmerta behind the bar. Harry had heard plenty of stories about her from his father. “I wish to make use of your fireplace for travel, but I haven’t used this means of transportation before. Your aid would be most welcome!”

Harry liked to keep up his persona of a loud, slightly bombastic but good-natured man in public places, because he’d learned over the years that it made people more open to conversing with him while completely underestimating him, which suited Harry just fine.

It took a while after creating this alternate character that Harry realized he’d subconsciously based it on Bram the Red’s public facade.

“I’d be happy to help,” Madam Rosmerta said as she met him at the huge fireplace. “Mr…?”

“Ah, how rude of me. I am Harry Potter, recently returned to this world and feeling utterly lost in it.” Harry offered Madam Rosmerta a rueful grin while slowly shaking his head.

“Mr Potter,” Madam Rosmerta said in shock, hand briefly covering her mouth. “I’d heard about your return, of course, but I hadn’t expected to see you in my pub so soon.”

“It is a true pleasure to meet you. Might I know your name, good innkeeper?”

“I’m Rosmerta, and you can use my floo anytime, Mr Potter.” This was said with a saucy little wink, to which Harry responded with a bout of booming laughter. “Where did you want to go, love?” Rosmerta said once Harry had calmed down.

“I have need to see your Ministry, as there’s been grave injustice done that I must set to rights,” Harry said in his most solemn voice.

“All right.” Rosmerta grabbed a handful of floo powder, threw it in the hearth which burst into green flames, and she shouted, “Ministry of Magic.” Then she gestured at Harry to step right in. “There you go, Mr Potter.”

“My sincere thanks, Rosmerta. I promise you that I shall come taste all you have to offer as soon as I can.” Harry gave her a cheeky grin before stepping into the flames. It had been a while since he’d been laid, and Rosmerta was a very beautiful woman. Harry might actually put some effort into that opportunity, but first he had to survive his first ever floo trip, which proved to be an absolute nightmare of ashes and soot.

Something spat Harry out onto a hard, stone floor while V landed on top of Harry’s head with a loud squawk, feathers more than ruffled. It took Harry three seconds to realize he was lying face down on the floor of the Ministry’s lobby, and to keep up appearances he started laughing as if he’d just been told the funniest joke ever.

Holy fuck, Harry was never travelling by floo again. He was going to get his apparition license that very day and he’d just make up some story about how he was suddenly able to apparate without any instruction.

“What a rowdy way to travel!” Harry proclaimed as he got to his feet, V chattering in annoyance on his shoulder. “It’s almost as much fun as using those carts at the bank!”

No, it fucking wasn’t. Those carts had actually been enjoyable. Floo travel sat somewhere between getting your teeth pulled without anaesthesia and getting kicked in the balls by a pissed-off bull.

“Good man,” Harry said, addressing a wide-eyed wizard in bright blue robes who passed him by. “Where might I find the Department of Mysteries?”

“Er…” the wizard looked Harry over top to bottom a few times before gesturing down the large lobby. “There is a reception desk right beside the security desk. Ask there.”

“My thanks!” Harry beamed a huge smile at the man before strolling towards the desks he needed. The young witch behind the reception desk also seemed rather impressed with Harry as she stuttered her way through giving Harry directions to the elevator. The wizard behind the security desk hardly looked at Harry, though, and merely registered Harry’s wand, (12 inches, cypress and raven feather), without any comment and sent him on his way.

The elevators were fun in their own way. The people in it a little less so, because they all stared at Harry in open curiosity, never even trying to hide their rude behaviour. But Harry was used to being gawked at during his travels, so he merely kept up his good-natured persona and endured the experience.

The Department of Mysteries was situated at the end of a long, dark corridor, which ended in a rather boring, black door.

Harry banged his fist on the door a few times. “Wizards, I have need of your expertise!”

It took a few moments, but then a person in grey robes, large hood hiding their face, opened the door. “Yes?”

“My good woman,” Harry said with a short bow. “I have heard there exists a prophecy about me, and I would like to see if it is fulfilled or not.” Harry toned his loud persona down a little, but still put up a cheerful act to throw people off enough they hopefully wouldn’t be wondering why Harry’s magic felt so fucking dark.

“Name?”

“Ah, my apologies. I am Harry Potter, recently returned to this world.”

That earned him a few moments of silence while the Unspeakable seemed to consider her options. “Fine. Come in.” She stepped away from the door and Harry found himself in a large circular room, lined with identical black doors.

“Look, look,” V crowed, hopping eagerly on Harry’s shoulder.

“We have no time to look around today, my friend,” Harry said to his companion.

“Also,” the Unspeakable added with an audible sniff. “We’re not a tourist attraction.”

Harry couldn’t stop a genuinely amused chuckle from escaping. “How right you are. Veles, you must simply learn to curb your enthusiasm.”

Something prickled against the back of Harry’s neck, something dark and enticing, that felt like death, and Harry desperately wanted to go explore it, thinking perhaps that was what V had reacted to. V was as in tune to all things necromancy as Harry was.

Before Harry could even think to ask the witch at his side if they maybe could take a look around a little bit, the Unspeakable led them through one door that looked no different than any of the others, but which revealed a room lined with cabinets, some opened to reveal paper archives. Interspersed were a few desks, all empty, as though they weren’t used around the clock but only as needed, except for one.

Another Unspeakable sat at a desk full of papers, high stacks close to toppling over filling almost the entire surface. “Yes?” the Unspeakable asked, his face hidden by a grey hood as well.

“Harry Potter here to see his prophecy,” the first Unspeakable said, and then without waiting for a reply she turned around and left the room.

“Are you really?” the Unspeakable asked as he got up from his desk.

“I am indeed, my good man!” Harry bowed at the wizard and offered him a jovial smile. “I heard there exists a prophecy about me, and I have reason to believe it is fulfilled. I am here to see if I have it right.”

“Hmm.” The Unspeakable gestured at Harry to follow him and led them through another door, which revealed a sight Harry had never seen before. It was a chamber bigger than any Harry had ever seen, dark and dimly-lit, and completely filled with shelves holding glowing glass orbs.

“Shiny,” V cawed, head tilting this way and that as he took it all in.

Harry was doing much the same thing, to be honest, neck craning while he looked around in all directions. “I have never seen the likes of this before,” he said in utmost sincerity.

The Unspeakable remained silent and led Harry to row 97 and then gestured for Harry to look around.

“There, there,” V crowed, bobbing his head towards a spot a little bit down the row.

And indeed there sat a dull, dark orb with a tab attached that clearly said Dark Lord and Harry Potter. Harry was quick to pick up it did not say Lord Voldemort.

“Am I to understand it has been fulfilled, since it is blackened while most other orbs here are yet filled with light?” Harry asked as he turned to look at the Unspeakable, who had remained at the beginning of the row.

“Well observed. Please pick up the orb,” the Unspeakable replied with a little nod.

Harry did so, and the orb felt like a small weight in his hand and nothing more. No flashy magic, no physical manifestations of fate coming for him, just a simple, glass ball, slightly cold to the touch.

“I would be interested to hear how you believe it was fulfilled,” the Unspeakable said. “Some years ago, it suddenly turned black. Roughly 1,5 years after you disappeared, I believe.”

“Ah, and what a tale it is!” Harry said as he approached the other wizard while V tried to peck at the orb in Harry’s hand. “There existed a Dark Lord in the world I grew up in, one who grievously hurt and even killed many of my friends. Eventually I found a way to end his reign of terror.”

“That tells me very little,” the Unspeakable pointed out, disappointment clear in his voice.

Harry shrugged. “And yet it is the truth. My good man, I have no time to indulge your need for my entire life history today, as I have many other tasks to complete. But you have my sincere thanks in helping me solve this particular mystery. Might I keep this orb?”

“It is yours. Do with it as you please.” The Unspeakable’s shoulders were a little hunched as he led Harry back but to his credit he didn’t further push him for more information. Perhaps the Unspeakables would have a few meetings about Harry’s strange fate before inviting him over for a long interview. Harry couldn’t help but think that the whole place stank of centuries of tedious bureaucracy.

Harry found no opportunity to sneak off and explore that curious sensation of death he felt about the place, no matter V pulled on his earlobe a few times in sheer frustration. Before he knew it, Harry found himself back in the lift and on his way to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Once there, Harry approached the first person he saw. “Good man, could you perhaps point me to the head of this fine department?”

The man looked around for a second, as though making sure he wasn’t suddenly the target of a practical joke, but when nothing happened he waved down one of the corridors. “Madam Bones’ office is at the end over there.”

“My thanks!” Harry decided to tone down his jovial persona a little bit more, since he had some serious business to discuss, pun intended. He found the correct door easily enough thanks to the convenient nameplate on the door and he knocked a few times.

“Come in!”

Harry opened the door a crack and stuck his head inside. “Madam Bones, I am sorry to interrupt your no doubt busy day, but I am here on urgent business. My name is Harry Potter.”

“Mr Potter,” Madam Bones said in obvious surprise. She was a witch with short grey hair and wore a monocle. “Do come in.”

“My thanks.” Harry closed the door behind himself and sat down in a chair in front of Madam Bones’ office. Bernadine floated behind Bones and she gave Harry a bright smile, which Harry was forced to ignore. Henry was somewhere in the building spying on Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic.

“What can I do for you, Mr Potter.” Madam Bones seemed a bit apprehensive as she looked Harry over, and Harry wondered what that monocle was charmed to show. The last thing he wanted was the Head of Magical Law Enforcement snooping too deeply into his magical use. Then again, perhaps this was an opportunity to proactively lay down some protections against any future accusations of dark magic use.

“Madam, it has come to my attention that my godfather, Sirius Black, was imprisoned for crimes he did not commit,” Harry said, deciding to not beat around the bush. He had the element of surprise on his side, and he wanted to make good use of that for as long as he could.

Madam Bones blinked a few times as she stared at Harry. “And how did you learn this information?”

“From my parents’ good friend, Remus Lupin.” Harry smiled as though remembering his parents filled him with warm nostalgia. “Though, I have also recovered some early memories of my parents during my studies into the mind arts. And I distinctly remember that the secret-keeper was Peter Pettigrew, not Sirius Black.”

“Mr Potter,” Madam Bones said, frowning as she thought about all the things Harry had just revealed. “If any of that was true, don’t you think it would have come out during Black’s trial?”

Gotcha! Harry made sure he looked the picture of regret. “If my godfather was actually given a trial, I’m sure it would have.”

Now he’d really gotten Bones’ attention, because she sat up straight at once and waved her wand at the door. “That is a fact we can easily check, Mr Potter.”

A young man entered the office. “You called, Madam Bones?”

“Paul, get me the trial transcripts for Sirius Black at once.”

“Right away, Madam.” The young man was gone in a second.

“While we wait, there is one other matter you might be able to assist me with,” Harry said, leaning back in his chair a bit. “In Santika, where I grew up, we were taught all aspects of magic, and we used them, too, in our daily lives.”

Bones gave an understanding nod as she looked Harry over again. Oh yeah, Harry was sure that monocle was showing her all sorts of things about what sort of wizard Harry really was.

“Now, I’ve been informed that in the wizarding world there are certain magics that are frowned upon, and still others which are downright illegal.” Harry gave Bones a hopeless look. “Madam, this is all new to me. I have no idea what kind of magic I am allowed to use or not, and I do not want to accidentally break the law.”

“Very wise decision,” Bones said with a tight little smile. “I would hate to have to arrest you.” Bernadine rolled her eyes before shaking her head.

“Exactly. I’d much rather stay out of trouble,” Harry said with a loud chuckle. “So is there perhaps a list or a book that details exactly the laws I should obey?”

“Our department uses a comprehensive list of spells which are illegal. That might help you along,” Madam Bones suggested while she seemed to relax a bit now that it was clear Harry wanted to ‘better himself’. “There are also more elaborate lawbooks available in Flourish and Blotts, but they might be a bit lengthy to quickly get an idea.”

“I would very much appreciate a copy of that list you use here,” Harry said with utmost sincerity. He really didn’t want to accidentally use some everyday magic and suddenly find himself in Azkaban.

Paul returned, face red and breaths quick and rasping, as though he’d ran a long distance. “Madam Bones…” Paul had to inhale a few deep breaths before he could continue. “We cannot find any transcripts. It’s like they’ve never existed at all.”

Harry leaned back in his chair with a knowing smile and waved his hand around in a gesture that said, ‘I told you so’.

“Mr Potter,” Madam Bones said as she got up at once, face set in a stern mask. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I assure you I will get to the bottom of this, and if Sirius Black truly never had a trial, I promise you I will see this rectified post haste. Paul will get you a copy of our list of illegal spells.”

And before Harry could even thank her, Bones rushed out of her office. Bernadine floated after her while giving Harry a quick little wave, so Harry knew he’d get a detailed report of what was going to happen later.

A few minutes later Harry tucked the long, long list of illegal spells in his satchel and he made his way to the Department of Transportation. Much to his surprise no one there cared if Harry Potter shouldn’t even know how to apparate. They apparently just assumed he could and that it made perfect sense that he’d come to get his apparition license, and half an hour later Harry had his license in hand and was ready to head home.

Harry bypassed the floo with large steps and headed for the visitor’s exit, which landed him in a red, glass box in a huge street with tall buildings everywhere in what he now realized must be Muggle London.

Well, fuck.

The thing was, Harry barely remembered his time at the Dursleys, except for their determination to starve him to death while keeping him in a closet. Harry had no real memories of ever living in Muggle society, so suddenly finding himself standing in the middle of it was a little overwhelming.

“Loud, loud,” V complained from his perch on Harry’s shoulder.

The metal things that were zooming by were very loud. And very smelly. Cars. Harry remembered that they must be cars.

Harry realized that he was drawing lots of unwelcome looks from nearby Muggles who seemed to be equally fascinated and disgusted by his wild looks, his fur cloak and his oversized raven.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It took Harry a few minutes of frantic walking to find a quieter street, while cars around him made loud noises and there were a lot of lights even though it was daytime, and so many people staring at him and the worst fucking part of all was that he wasn’t even allowed to use magic on these Muggles or he would end in prison.

How was that any kind of fair? If a Muggle attacked him now, Harry wasn’t even allowed to defend himself with magic, especially not with the kinds of magic he preferred to use.

“Go home,” V urged with a caw.

“Yes, yes, working on it.” Finally Harry found an empty little alleyway and the moment he entered it, he apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. There he pulled his broom out of his satchel, mounted it, and flew back to his castle as if a whole army of wild baroks were on his tail.

That had been a most unpleasant experience and Harry vowed to avoid the Muggle world from that moment on, no matter what.

Once home, Harry first went down to the kitchen to get some lunch, because his stomach loudly reminded him that it was time for some nourishment. Harry heated up a bowl of stew with a quick charm, and ate it at the kitchen table while he pulled out the pile of paperwork that was the list of illegal spells.

It was ridiculous! All rituals were illegal. All of them!

Any type of blood magic? Illegal!

Soul magic? Illegal!

Elemental magic? Illegal!

Weather magic? Illegal!

The list went on and on and on.

Harry couldn’t believe it. “Igor, bring me some wine!” Fucking hell, he needed alcohol to deal with this.

Any kind of necromancy was an automatic death sentence, just like his family had always told him was the case. And here Harry was, a genuine necromancer who had walked the deathlands more times than he could remember, and if anyone ever found out they’d kill him for it.

Igor placed the bottle of red wine and a glass in front of Harry, who immediately filled and downed a glass before sitting back in his chair, releasing a frustrated sigh. But before Harry could spend some much needed time trying to find a solution to this problem, his wards told him people were approaching his castle.

Harry got up, downed half a glass of wine real quick, and then made his way to the front door. Just as he entered the hallway, a loud knock echoed through it.

When Harry pulled the door open he was greeted by Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom, all sporting eager smiles and expectant looks.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Harry stared at the kids on his doorstep, wondering what the hell they wanted from him now.

Something must have shown on his face, because Hermione Granger was quick to point out, “You told us to come back another time for a visit!”

Harry sighed. He had said that, hadn’t he? He just hadn’t expected them to show up again the very next day. Part of Harry wanted to dismiss them, to send them back to the school, but another part of him realized that perhaps he could find a use for these eager kids.

You see, Harry had a vast network of spies in the form of his dead family members. They were a huge resource and Harry had put them to good use in the past, to listen in to his enemies, to learn their plans, and to help keep abreast of any potential future problems. But no matter how good his family members were at spying, they had one downside. They couldn’t interact with the physical environment around them. They were noncorporeal souls. They couldn’t open a book, or go through paperwork on a desk, or anything that required the ability to physically touch an item.

These three youths, however, could do all those things. And by the looks of it, they were more than willing to become his friends.

Harry offered them all a bright smile. “I did say that, Miss Granger.” He pulled the door open wide. “Come on in!”

“You can call me Hermione,” Granger said as she entered the castle with a spring in her step.

“I’m Harry.” Gesturing to his right, Harry waited until all three kids were standing in the entrance hall, gaping around, before he closed the heavy door. “Let’s go to the sitting room, right through there. Igor, we need tea for four!”

V came flying out of the corridor and landed heavily on Harry’s shoulder. “Hello, hello!”

Ron Weasley looked at V in amazement. “How did you teach him to talk?”

Harry snorted. “He’s always talked, for as long as I’ve known him. It’s getting him to shut up that’s the trick.” That earned him a peck on his ear from V, but Harry merely grinned in return.

The kids all sat together on the couch in the sitting room, while Harry sank down in a leather chair opposite them. Igor came shuffling into the room, carrying a large tray with a porcelain tea service.

“Just put it down,” Harry said, gesturing at the coffee table. “I’ll pour it out.”

“Eurgh.”

The kids were staring at Igor with wide eyes while Harry’s butler put the tray down and shuffled out of the sitting room again.

Hermione cleared her throat. “I’m quite sure that’s an inferius. I looked it up in the library yesterday, and making an inferius is illegal.”

Harry offered her his brightest smile while he poured tea into cups. “So is sneaking into the Forbidden Forest while you’re a Hogwarts student, but here you are.” Then he gave the kids an exaggerated wink while placing steaming cups in front of them. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Yeah, leave the man be,” Ron was quick to say with a glare at Hermione.

“Besides,” Harry said, leaning back in his seat while holding his cup in his lap. “There is such a thing as house loyalty, right?”

“What do you mean?” Neville asked quietly while picking up his own cup and blowing across it.

“My parents were Gryffindors, and so were many of my extended family.” Harry stared over the kids’ heads, as though he was suddenly feeling melancholic. “If I hadn’t been kidnapped and we’d gone to Hogwarts together, I’m completely sure I’d have been a Gryffindor, too.”

“So you’re an honorary Gryffindor,” Ron said with an agreeable smile.

“Thanks!” Harry toasted the boy with his cup of tea. “I appreciate hearing that from a genuine Gryffindor.”

Ron’s cheeks flushed bright red and he quickly took a few sips of his tea, head ducked, trying to hide his face.

“I want to thank you again for returning my family’s cloak yesterday,” Harry said, addressing Neville. “Did Dumbledore ever explain why he gave it to you, though?”

Neville seemed frozen for a second by Harry’s sudden attention, but then he cleared his throat. “Er…no. Just that it was your father’s and you should have gotten it. But since you were missing, I could use it for the time being.”

“How curious,” Harry said with a thoughtful frown, making sure not to sound too accusatory. “I heard recently that our parents were friends, so maybe that’s why the headmaster thought it was a good idea.”

“Yes, that could be,” Neville agreed in a whisper, yet he still looked like he’d never had any real idea of why he’d been given the invisibility cloak in the first place.

Hermione, who’d been listening while seated at the edge of the sofa, apparently couldn’t contain her curiosity anymore. “What sort of magical school did you go to? What did they teach there?”

Harry chuckled as he looked at her expectant face. “I attended Master Karakas’ School for Sorcery in Misty Springs, which was a lovely town built on the side of a mountain in the middle of a rainforest.” All three kids were hanging onto Harry’s every word. “As for what we learned there? The simple answer is magic.” Harry grinned when the kids all groaned in impatience. “Nah, we learned classes very similar to the ones you have here. Plants, potions, runes, curses, wards, and much more.”

“That must have been right strange, to learn foreign magic like that,” Ron said in an awed tone.

Harry shrugged while giving the kids a lopsided smile. “I was four when I moved there. To me Santika’s magic has always been familiar magic. This world is filled with foreign magic as far as I am concerned.” Harry ducked his head a little, pursing his lips. “In fact, I’m feeling a little lost trying to navigate my way around this world, especially with the tournament coming up.”

“Oh, oh!” Hermione looked like she was half a second away from jumping up from the sofa and raising her hand in the air. “We could help!”

Whipping his head up, Harry gave Hermione an utterly grateful look. “Would you?”

“Yeah, we’d be happy to,” Neville said quickly with a solemn nod.

Harry sat up a little, looking from one kid to the next. “I couldn’t ask that of you…I’d need you all to do lots of research and that would take a lot of time.”

“We really don’t mind,” Hermione insisted while Ron started looking a little dubiously ever since hearing the word ‘research’.

“Oh,” Harry suggested suddenly. “I could pay you. Maybe a Galleon a week? Each?”

Ron’s eyes widened in absolute astonishment.

“Gold, gold,” V cawed from his position on the headrest of Harry’s chair, eying up the kids curiously.

“Oh no,” Hermione said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We couldn’t ask that of you.”

“Hermione,” Ron whispered harshly. “If he wants to pay us, let him!”

Neville bit his lip for a moment before staring at Hermione. “I wouldn’t mind earning some gold. My gran never gives me an allowance. She insists if I need anything to just ask her directly.”

Harry sat back while the kids held a silent staring match, confident he’d just secured himself three eager little assistants to take care of a lot of tedious research for him. They were rather obvious kids, and combined with what Harry knew of their families from what his parents had told him, it wasn’t difficult to find a way to manipulate them right where Harry wanted them.

Ron came from a poor family, but he was eager to prove himself, to find fame and fortune of his own. Neville was just as gracious as his parents always had been, a quiet boy with a noble soul. And Hermione was a Ravenclaw in Gryffindor clothing, more than eager to learn anything she could.

“Igor!” Harry yelled towards the doorway. “Bring me paper and quill!”

“Eurgh!”

“All right, we accept,” Hermione said just as Igor shuffled inside the room with a few sheets of paper and a self-inking quill in his hands.

“Excellent!” Harry placed a sheet of paper in front of him on the coffee table and started writing down a simple magical contract. He winked at the kids while he did so. “An employment contract. This way you know I’ll be good for my gold and won’t try to scam you.”

Hermione’s cheeks flushed. “We would never think that.”

“Gran always says that all important deals should come with a written contract,” Neville pointed out, which seemed to reassure Hermione a bit.

“Here.” Harry turned the contract towards the kids, placing the quill on top of it. “Read it through, and if you agree with it, you can sign it.”

The boys seemed happy enough to let Hermione study the contract, which she did while narrowing her eyes and biting her lip. “Why is there a secrecy clause?”

Because Harry wasn’t an idiot and he wanted to make sure the kids couldn’t spill any of his secrets that could get him thrown into prison or worse. Harry offered his new assistants a scheming smile. “It protects both you and me. You cannot accidentally let slip anything about my preparations of the tournament. And no one can make you say anything, either.”

Neville seemed to contemplate this for a moment. “So even if they threatened us, or hexed us, we couldn’t speak of your secrets.”

“Exactly.” Harry gave Neville an approving nod.

“Give me that,” Ron said, all but yanking the quill out of Hermione’s hands. He signed the contract without hesitation. Then he handed the quill to Neville, who also added his signature without any problems.

Finally, Hermione sighed and completed the set with her own signature.

Harry accepted the contract back, added his own signature, and then he pricked his finger with the sharp bit of the quill and pressed a drop of his blood over his name. This way, his secrets would be protected and the kids couldn’t speak of them even if they wanted to. Harry could still spill all of their secrets just fine, but they didn’t need to know that.

“Why add the blood?” Hermione asked a little worriedly.

Thankfully Neville was quick to give an explanation. “It’s normal in contracts, my gran told me.”

“Thank you!” Harry said with sincere gratitude. “Now, your first mission, should you accept it, is to find out everything you can about this blasted tournament. Think you can do that?”

“Absolutely,” Hermione said, legs bouncing as if she couldn’t wait to run all the way back to Hogwarts to start researching at once.

“You three are absolute lifesavers.” Harry leaned back in his chair again with a tired sigh. “I need to compete in that tournament, yet I have no time to find out anything about it. This morning I spent hours at the Ministry to try to get my godfather freed.”

“Sirius Black?” All three kids asked at the same time.

“You know him?”

“Yeah!” Ron almost fell off the couch in his hurry to tell the story. “My rat was actually a Death Eater, as it turned out, who had framed Sirius.”

Harry blinked, genuinely not expecting that turn of events. “Do tell.”

And the kids did tell, with lots of details and even more wild gesturing, how they’d all ended up in the Shrieking Shack where the truth came out. There were werewolves and dementors involved, and even Snape had a cameo, and in the end it had taken time-travel to save his godfather’s life, and Harry listened with bated breath to the wild adventure that had taken place just last year.

“You three are the bravest kids I’ve ever met,” Harry said with a proud smile. “You’ll be happy to know I talked to Amelia Bones this morning and told her Sirius never had a trial. She’s looking into it herself and promised to rectify the situation personally where needed.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Hermione said with watery eyes.

Ron, however, scoffed. “We told them all that last year, but no one would believe us.”

“But it seems that things will still work out,” Neville said optimistically. “That’s what matters the most.”

“Indeed it does.” Harry got up from his seat. “Thank you for your visit. I really appreciate it. I’m new here and don’t know anyone yet.”

“Friends, friends,” V cawed while flapping his wings, that manipulative feather-duster.

“Yeah, we’ll be your friends, Harry,” Neville said with a happy little smile.

“Absolutely,” Ron quickly agreed.

Harry placed his hand over his heart while giving the trio a short little bow. “That means a lot to me. Come back in a few days.”

“See you!” Ron called as they left the castle, chatting amongst themselves.

Closing the door, Harry leaned his head against it and released a deep sigh. That was one problem taken care of. Now he had three devoted assistants to take some work out of his hands while he tackled some bigger, more important problems.

Namely that almost all the magic Harry usually used would either get him imprisoned for a very long time or even get him executed.

“Fuck,” Harry muttered as he slumped towards the library, summoning the list of illegal spells from the kitchen with a wave of his hand. How the fuck was he going to fix this?

There was the option of running for a seat on the Wizengamot, or for Minister for Magic or something, and try to change the system from the inside out. The problem with that was twofold. First, it would take years and years to get any kind of traction that way, and secondly, the majority of the witches and wizards in Britain were supporters of the light and wouldn’t be happy bringing back previously outlawed dark magic.

Harry sat down behind his desk in the library. “Igor, bring me my wine!”

“Eurgh!”

V landed on the large perch beside Harry's desk, while Keket was stretched out on her favourite bearskin, fast asleep. “Kill, kill,” V called, wings flapping.

“What the fuck?” Harry looked at his companion in utter confusion. “Kill who, or what?”

“Fudge, Fudge.”

Harry briefly closed his eyes and shook his head. “V… buddy… we’re not killing the minister. That won’t solve a fucking thing.”

V ruffled his feathers and glared at Harry with beady eyes. “Bad man, bad man.”

“He’s just an idiot politician, V,” Harry said, throwing himself back in his chair, feet kicking against his desk in frustration. “He doesn’t make the actual laws. The Wizengamot does that.” Running two tired hands down his face, Harry groaned, long and deep. “If only there was a Sildar in this world. At least there I got to make the laws.”

There was a moment of loaded silence before Harry and V looked at each other at the exact same time.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Harry asked while forgetting to breathe.

“Make land, make land!” V crowed, head tossed back.

“Yes, we are!” Harry jumped up, grabbed V’s feathery head between his hand and pressed a loud kiss right on top of it. “Wait, what does this world even look like? They got to have oceans, right? We need maps!”

V was shaking himself as if Harry had just doused him in lice. “Lots water, lots, lots.”

“Okay, what time is it?” Harry turned around in his library, unsure what he needed to do now that he had an absolutely fucking brilliant idea that would solve every single fucking one of his problems.

Well, at least the one about him using illegal magic.

“Let’s go to the bookstore, find some maps!” And without waiting for V to reply, Harry ran to the door, summoning his broom along the way, and almost bowling Igor over who was shuffling towards the library carrying a bottle of wine. V could barely keep up, flapping his large wings, as Harry launched himself in the air the second he left the castle. He flew to Hogsmeade as fast as he could, V screeching in protest behind him.

Thankfully, there was no need to go to Diagon Alley since Hogsmeade also had a small bookstore, which seemed to sell as many second-hand books as new ones, but that didn’t matter much to Harry’s needs.

“Merchant!” Harry bellowed as he rushed inside the shop, broom still in hand. “I need maps of this world!”

The young girl behind the counter blinked large, blue eyes at him before swallowing a time or two. “The geography section is that way.” She gestured to Harry’s left, where there was indeed a sign hanging from the ceiling in the back of the shop that said ‘geography and maps’.

“My thanks!” Harry hurried towards the section, V hopping on his shoulder in sheer excitement, and there he piled just about every book and map that even remotely had anything to do with the geography of this planet into his arms. The clerk seemed a little flustered as she added everything up, as if she’d never had this large of a purchase before, and Harry waited not so patiently until he could hand over a substantial handful of gold before shoving all the books and maps in his satchel.

Once home again, Harry yanked several of the large tables in the library together to make one large surface with a wave of his hand, and then he piled all the books and maps he’d just purchased on top of it.

“Igor, bring me a bowl of stew!” Harry was happy to see Igor had left the wine on his desk, so Harry poured himself a glass while he waited for his butler to bring him his dinner. Igor wasn’t much of a cook, but he could serve a bowl of cold stew that Harry could easily heat up with a charm.

While Harry and V devoured the stew they studied some of the maps to get an idea of where the borders of each country ended. Harry had been four when he’d left earth. He’d never seen a map of his planet of origin before, or at least not that he could remember, so seeing how much of earth was covered in oceans was a bit of a surprise. One of the books Harry had purchased spoke of territorial waters and high seas, and it seemed that each country owned their own coastal waters but that the rest of the oceans was pretty much fair game. This included both the muggle and wizarding laws.

One of the maps that showed a decent view of Ireland and Britain’s coastal waters refused to stay rolled open, but Harry had just the thing for that. He reached inside his satchel, pulled out the dark prophecy orb, and used it as a paperweight to keep the map opened so he could pick out a location for his own country.

“There, there,” V chattered while pecking at a certain spot on the map.

“Yeah, that might work,” Harry agreed with a relieved smile. For the first time since he found himself unexpectantly in the wizarding world, Harry felt like things might turn out fine.

Harry had trouble going to bed that night, since his mind was filled with plans and things to remember, and he wrote almost a book’s worth of to-do lists when it came to creating his own country. Finally, when he was nodding off over the maps well after midnight, V had enough.

“Bed, bed,” V cawed, hopping around in front of Harry and pecking at his face until Harry woke up enough to decide that yes, he probably should get some rest because tomorrow was going to be a long, long day.

Harry was up at the crack of dawn, brimming with excitement. He didn’t think he’d felt this alive since his kids were little and he got to watch them grow up, basking in the warm glow of happiness new parenthood provided.

For breakfast Harry fried three eggs and a couple of slices of bacon, and he also made four sandwiches with cheese and cured ham, which he packed for lunch, together with a few portions of dried fruit and nuts. He’d need his energy that day.

Keket opted to stay in the Forbidden Forest, to explore it some more, since shrinking the castle with living things inside of it wasn’t a good idea. In a pinch, for a short time, it was possible, but for longer periods it wasn’t advisable, since the shrinking charms Harry used weren’t meant for living things. Igor was dead, so he always stayed inside without incident, never voicing any complaints.

Harry packed up his castle, mounted his broom and took off towards the south west, crossing over from Scotland to Ireland and following the Irish coast south until the very tip where he turned west into the open seas. He used a charm to track the distance he travelled and exactly 25 kilometres away from the Irish coastline, Harry halted his broom in the air and observed the choppy waves around him.

Here he was going to build a brand-new country, one where dark magic was allowed. In fact, all magic would be allowed and encouraged. And because it was a sovereign nation, no one, not Dumbledore, not Fudge, not anyone in the Ministry of Magic could complain.

Harry had some experience with land expansion.

Once the population of Sildar had really started growing, they quickly ran out of land. Not homes, they had plenty of those, and could easily build more with magic. No, with an increasing population, they needed more and more land for agriculture. They needed vast tracks of farmland to grow wheat, oats, barley and corn. They needed hills to grow grapes for wine. They needed space for more olive groves for oil. They needed more orchards for all manner of fruit. And they needed lots and lots more grazing land for cattle, sheep and goats. And some new forestland to keep more pigs also became necessary.

And thus Harry had spent a few years coming up with a permanent way to grow their island. He’d tried all sorts of things, but in the end the simplest solution actually worked the best.

Transfiguration.

When you had lots of water, you could transfigure that water into other things. Such as rock.

On top of transfiguration, Harry learned that the key to creating huge tracts of new land was duplication, which fell under charms. Once you mastered the art of using transfiguration and duplication simultaneously, you could really create enormous amounts of land reasonably quickly.

The first thing Harry needed to do now was create the beginning of the landmass’ bedrock. Sitting on his broom, with V perched on the handle in front of him so he could keep an eye on what Harry was doing, Harry squared his shoulders, stretched his arms and pointed his wand down at the water and concentrated on turning water into rock straight down using transfiguration. At the same time, he sent his magic sideways to duplicate the rock in all directions. It took a few hours until Harry reached the bottom of the ocean, but by then he had a wide, and very deep, pyramid of sheer rock on which to build the rest. Harry flew in a wide circle around the pyramid and transfigured more water, while duplicating more rock, again sending it all the way down to the bottom of the ocean.

By the time Harry took a break for lunch, he had a wide pillar made of solid rock that stood a good 15 yards above the waves.

It was a start. A very good start.

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon repeating the process until by the time the sun was setting Harry had a rocky basis about the size of ten football fields towering above the waves. He touched down on the rock with a huge grin on his face and quickly conjured a big flag on a wooden pole. The green and yellow flag sported a crossed wand and staff over the image of a raven’s silhouette with spread wings.

It was the flag of Sildar, designed by Harry and V.

Now it would be the flag of their new country.

Harry inhaled a deep breath, stuck the flag into the rock beneath them and said loudly, “I dub thee Silgram!” Which meant so much as ‘my own land’ in Santireen.

“Home, home!” V cawed while he flapped his wings as he hopped on Harry’s shoulder.

Popping up his castle took five minutes and Harry stuck his head in the door the moment it was done. “Igor, bring me a bowl of stew. And some wine!”

“Eurgh!”

Once Harry had a warm bowl of stew in his hand, he sat down on the rocky edge, waves crashing far beneath his dangling feet, and he and V enjoyed their dinner while they watched the sun set over the ocean.

After the bowl was empty, Harry set it aside and raised his glass of wine in the direction of magical Britain. “Fuck you and your laws!” Then he gulped it down in one go while V chattered with laughter beside him.

There was still a lot to do to make this a truly habitable land instead of a slab of rock in the ocean. But Harry had plenty of experience doing just that, plus he wasn’t in a hurry. He had a place to call home now, where he could use all the magic he wanted, and where he made the laws. Expanding the land and dressing it up with topsoil, plants, trees and animals was a job for the coming months, and probably even the coming years.

Thanks to the bloodstone Harry had all the time in the world.

Once darkness had fallen Harry and V stayed out on the rock for an hour or so, enjoying the sounds of the ocean and the sight of all the stars above them, but eventually they went inside the castle as the November air was quite chilly. But the moment Harry entered his home, something occurred to him.

“Want to come?” Harry asked V, without specifying where he was going. This had never kept V from joining him, though, and his companion eagerly hopped back on his shoulder. Harry concentrated for a few moments and apparated straight to the doorstep of Grimmauld Place where he wasted no time and knocked firmly on the door.

Remus answered and seemed surprised to see him judging by his wide eyes. “Harry? Come in.”

“Thanks!” Harry quickly slipped inside the door while V cawed in greeting. “I’ve got news.”

“Is that Harry?” Sirius came from the direction of one of the rooms to the right and gave Harry a questioning look. “Hey, Harry.”

“Hi!” Harry spread his arms wide and gave the two men a huge grin. “I made a country!”

“What?” Remus eyes widened even more.

“Huh?” Sirius glanced from Remus to Harry and back, looking like the people around him had suddenly started talking in a foreign language.

“Hear me out,” Harry said, talking as quickly as he could because he was so fucking excited he couldn’t help it. “I know you all hate dark magic, but I can’t help being a dark wizard. And the laws in this country suck, they really, really suck. I don’t want to live here, so I made my own country. It’s still a work in progress, but I promise you it’s going to be great.”

Neither Remus and Sirius had any immediate comment on that, other than eyebrows that kept rising higher and higher.

“Now the good news. It’s my country, so I make the laws. And I can tell you, Remus, there are absolutely no restrictive laws in Silgram concerning werewolves. And I can tell you, Sirius, that Silgram does not extradite people to Britain, or anywhere else.” Harry beamed at the two men before him. “So, if you can lose that anti-dark magic stick you’ve got stuck up your arse, Sirius, you can come live in my new country and be a free man. What do you think?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

“Wait, wait, wait,” Remus said, both hands up while he briefly bowed his head. “What country? Where?”

Sirius in the meantime had his fist pressed to his mouth and looked rather like he was trying not to pee his trousers while his shoulders shook in quiet laughter.

“Silgram! I’ve created it off the southern coast of Ireland,” Harry said with proud smile, beaming between the two men. “I mean, it’s a large piece of rock right now, but give me a few weeks and it’ll be a lush magical land with everything a country needs.”

Remus very slowly licked his lips and exhaled a long breath while he stared at Harry. “All right. I’ll be happy to hear the details of how you accomplished something like that at a later time. I assume you’ve put up the necessary muggle repellent wards?”

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it again for a moment. “I knew I forgot something.” He immediately held up a hand. “It’s on my to-do list, I swear!”

“Harry, honestly,” Remus said with a disapproving frown. “That should have been your first priority.”

Sirius bent double at the waist, unable to hold back peals of laughter, one hand on his thigh to keep his balance. “And here I thought you were nothing like James,” Sirius barely managed to say. “I was wrong. You are just as impulsive as your father.”

“And coming from Sirius Black, that is saying something,” Remus agreed with a fond smile.

“I can take you there now,” Harry offered, more than eager to show off his creation.

“Go home, go home!” V agreed while he bobbed his head at the two men.

“We’ll grab our cloaks,” Remus said while Sirius tried his best to breathe normally again, wiping tears from his eyes.

Once the two men were dressed for a November night, Harry followed them out the door, grabbed both their shoulders, and apparated them to Silgram, right in front of his home.

“Is that a castle?” Sirius asked as he stared up at the dark building, only illuminated by the half moon.

“Hang on.” Harry waved his hand around and two dozen large glowing orbs appeared suspended in the air, spreading out around the rocky land to give them all some light to see by. “That’s better. And yes, that’s my home. Made it myself years ago. I carry it along wherever I go.”

“How far out of the coast is this island located?” Remus asked as he looked around.

“Just about 25 kilometres.”

Remus gave Harry a frown. “That’s not nearly enough.”

“It’s international waters,” Harry insisted.

“Sure,” Remus said with a thoughtful nod. “But there is also such a thing as an economical zone, and the British Ministry might argue that you’ve put this right into theirs.” Remus gestured around the rocky shore. “Could you get rid of this island and make it again further out to sea? I would highly recommend you do that to prevent any chance of the Ministry even thinking they’d have grounds to interfere.”

Harry shrugged. “Or I could just move it.”

“Move it,” Remus repeated a little disbelievingly, while Sirius started laughing again.

“Yeah, I’ve done it before,” Harry explained carelessly. “Back when I expanded Sildar, one of the new additions caused a change in the tides of a local bay or something. Anyway, the crab fishers were pissed off, so I moved the land to another location. Took some work figuring out how to do it, but once you get the hang of it there’s very little to it.”

“Right.” Remus nodded and gestured at Harry with a lightly trembling hand. “Then I suggest you move this island at least 30 kilometres westward. Better perhaps even 50, if that’s possible.”

“Sure.” Harry strolled to the eastern-most point of the island and started inscribing the necessary runes into the rock with his wand. It really wasn’t difficult as long as you knew what you were doing. He was basically turning the whole island into a large, magically-powered ship that would move slowly but surely along the ocean floor until it reached their desired destination. It only took Harry fifteen minutes to get the runes and charms set up and with a last few waves of his wand he activated the magic. The island shook fiercely a few times as it first came free from the ocean floor, but once it got going you hardly noticed any movement.

“And now those muggle repellent wards.” Remus had a rather resigned expression on his face, as though he had just come to the decision that he simply refused to be surprised by anything Harry decided to do ever again.

“You’ve got to admit, Moony,” Sirius said while they followed Harry around as he cast a few simple muggle repellent wards around the outlines of the island. Harry planned to inscribe much stronger wards into the rock itself once the whole island was done growing but these would do for now. “Creating a new country is a rather brilliant idea. No restricting werewolf laws, for one.”

“I certainly appreciate the thought,” Remus said with a small nod at Harry. “But I can’t help but worry how the international community is going to react to this. I doubt the ICW is going to let this slide without at least some pushback.”

Harry stopped casting for a moment to look over his shoulder in question. “The what now?”

“The ICW. The International Confederation of Wizards.”

Stumped, Harry looked from Sirius to Remus and back. “I have no idea what that means.”

“You had no international agencies that oversaw cooperation between different countries?” Remus asked curiously.

“Nope. Santika was a pretty lawless place, to be honest.” Harry went back to silently casting, yet he also kept talking. “When I created Sildar we had the most progressive laws of any land, and I plan to implement those same laws here in Silgram.”

“I’d be happy to take a look at those laws if you don’t mind,” Remus said softly.

“I’ve got those books in the library,” Harry said, with a wave at his castle. “You can read them all as often as you like.”

“Are you planning to let just anyone live here?” Sirius asked, pulling his cloak a little tighter around himself since a chilly wind had started blowing.

“As long as they obey my laws, sure.” Harry finished with the last wards, and the island was now protected from muggles spotting it. “Come on, we’ll have some wine in the castle. It’s warm there.”

“I like the idea, Harry, I really do,” Sirius said as they trudged back to the castle, V flying ahead of them. “I just don’t know how I feel about your need for dark magic to be legal here.”

Harry didn’t reply to that until they were standing in the hallway inside the castle and he closed the door to shut out the cold November air. Igor had already stoked the fires in the castle’s numerous fireplaces so they got a warm reception.

“I think I know a few people who can change your mind on that,” Harry said with a mischievous grin. And while Sirius looked utterly disbelieving about that statement, Harry brushed his thumb across his amulet and summoned his entire family, pouring enough power into them that they’d be visible to his guests.

Sirius’ eyes grew as wide as they could possibly go. “James?” he whispered in a hoarse voice, barely audible. “Lily?”

“Hello, Padfoot,” James said with a sunny smile while he floated closer to his friends. “Moony, good to see you.”

Lily, however, wasn’t as welcoming. “Sirius Black! What were you thinking, handing over my son to Hagrid while you went chasing after that rat!”

Sirius took several very large steps back, releasing an alarmed little noise.

“Harry grew up in Petunia’s cupboard!” Lily fumed, not letting Sirius out of her sights as she flew up to him at once. “They starved him!”

“Sirius paid for that,” Remus tried to intervene, always the peacekeeper. “He spent over a decade in Azkaban.”

“And he has my sympathies,” Lily said briefly to Remus before turning back to Sirius. “We trusted you to do the right thing, and you let us down. More importantly, you let Harry down.”

“I’m fine, Mum,” Harry said with a little wave.

“Sshh!” Lily glared at her son for a moment before turning back to a very pale Sirius, who stood trembling on his legs. “What you can do to make up for your mistakes, Sirius, is to stand by our son now and accept him as he is.”

Sirius nodded a little, seemingly unable to speak in the face of Lily’s fury.

“Harry needs your help,” James added as he floated closer. “From both of you.”

“I’m still fine!” Harry called out, but his parents ignored him. “Don’t need anyone’s help. I’m doing great on my own!”

“Santika was a horrific world to grow up in, and the less said about it the better. The only way Harry could survive was to learn magics that are illegal in the wizarding world,” Lily explained, now much calmer.

“We’ve all supported Harry in this every step of the way,” James said, giving both his friends a piercing look. “Some of the magic Harry uses is dark, very dark. But Harry himself is a good man, who cares for others, who always tries to do the right thing, who single-handedly saved the whole magical community in Santika.” James offered both his friends a proud grin. “If Harry had attended Hogwarts there is no doubt in my mind he’d have sorted into Gryffindor.”

“Our grandson is new to the wizarding world,” Fleamont added as he floated closer to Sirius with a warm smile on his face. Sirius’ eyes filled with tears as he looked between Fleamont and Euphemia. Harry remembered that his grandparents had all but adopted Sirius after he’d ran away from home when he was sixteen and this must be a very emotional reunion for his godfather. “He needs people around him he can trust, who will support him.”

“Give him a chance, Sirius,” Euphemia said while giving Sirius a knowing look. “Just like we did for you.”

Harry was thoroughly impressed to see his family manipulate Sirius so expertly until his godfather finally hung his head and gave a few firm nods.

“I’ll stand by Harry. I promise,” Sirius said, and he immediately received lots of thanks and smiles from Harry’s parents and grandparents.

“Excellent.” Harry turned towards the corridor. “Igor, wine for three!”

“Eurgh!”

After a few minutes Igor came shuffling inside the entrance hall carrying a tray with a bottle of red wine and three glasses.

“Just put it in the sitting room,” Harry said while gesturing at his guests to follow him, his family already floating ahead.

Once they were seated in front of the blazing fireplace and Harry had poured them all wine, Remus cleared his throat. “That was an inferius, wasn’t it?”

Sirius choked on his sip of wine. “What the fuck?”

Harry shrugged. “They’re dead useful. Igor is a great butler. I’ve also used inferi as extra labour whenever we needed more hands than we had to quickly bring in crops before the weather turned in Sildar. Oh, and one time, when this warlord insisted on going to war with me, I just raised a whole army of inferi from a historic battlefield and let them duke it out with the advancing enemy troops while I went back home to teach transfiguration at our school.”

“You’re a necromancer,” Remus said with wide eyes while Sirius was still recovering from coughing his lungs up.

“Yep,” Harry agreed easily, seeing no need to deny it anymore.

“Well, that certainly explains your rather impulsive decision to create a whole new country with its own laws,” Remus mused while Sirius stared at Harry with wide, disbelieving eyes, his mouth opened slightly. “If you performed that kind of magic in Britain, they’d chuck you through the veil.”

“The what now?” Harry asked with a curious tilt of his head.

“The veil of death is an ancient artifact that the Ministry uses for execution purposes. It’s located in the Department of Mysteries,” Remus explained patiently, and yes, Harry knew right there and then Remus had the makings of a great teacher. Once he got his own school of magic set up and running he’d offer Remus a job for certain.

“That’s interesting,” Harry replied, while V flew over to sit on the headrest of his chair.

“Look, look,” V cawed and Harry looked up at him with a fond smile.

“We’re kind of busy with our island now, V. Let’s save the breaking and entering for a different time.”

“Are you really a necromancer?” Sirius asked, looking like he already regretted his promise to stand by his godson.

While Harry sighed, Euphemia floated closer to Sirius and gave him a sympathetic smile. “Quite the shock, isn’t it? And yet it was the only way for Harry to survive. The Dark Lord that ruled Santika was a necromancer of unimaginable power, and the only way Harry could defeat him was to learn those powers as well.”

When Sirius still looked troubled by this news, Dorea advanced on Sirius. “Being a necromancer doesn’t mean being evil. Just like being dark doesn’t mean being evil.”

“We understand you grew up with Walburga as your introduction to dark wizards and witches,” Charis added with a knowing little smile. “And you have our sympathies for that, but even within the Black family there were plenty of dark witches and wizard who turned out to be decent people.”

“And you are a werewolf,” Charlus said while staring at Remus. “You’re a dark creature, and magical Britain will never let you forget it.”

“I’m well aware,” Remus whispered in reply.

Auntie Eustice floated closer to Harry and leaned over to speak to him. “That book Voldemort was reading, whose ending I missed, is titled Rhodium’s Secrets Revealed, and the author is Arthur Bentham. Please purchase this at your earliest convenience, nephew.”

“Really, woman?” Patroclus said with a disbelieving look. “Now is the time to order books?”

“Wait, Voldemort?” Sirius demanded, sitting up straight at once, wine forgotten in his hand.

“The man has excellent taste in books,” Auntie Eustice said a little defensively. “I don’t know what else to say. He ploughed his way through three books just today. And I must say, the modern theories about ward renewals are absolutely fascinating.”

“Voldemort is back?” Remus was quick to conclude while exchanging a worried glance with Sirius.

Harry shrugged and drank more wine while waving a dismissive hand at his guests. “Apparently. But you heard her. All he does is read these days.”

“That explains why Dumbledore floo-called us earlier today, complaining that you had rejected the prophecy,” Remus said while giving Harry an uncertain glance. “He asked us urgently to change your mind. We assumed this was because Voldemort was trying to come back.”

“Get your wine,” Harry said as he jumped up from his chair. “And follow me.”

Harry led his guests straight to the library and he treasured the looks of disbelief on their faces while they walked around the large hall filled with books top to bottom, gaping in every which way.

“This is impressive,” Remus gasped while giving Harry a genuinely happy smile. “Truly impressive.”

“Thanks. I’m very proud of it.”

“Well,” Sirius said with a grin as he walked up to Harry. “It’s good to see you’ve got something of Lily in you as well.”

“Aww,” Lily said, eyes softening as she looked at Sirius. Then she seemed to remember she was still mad at him and she quickly turned back to glaring.

“Here, catch.” Harry picked up the prophecy orb from the table, where it was still helping the keep maps opened.

Sirius barely caught the ball, spilling wine on the stone floor in the process, and then he turned it over in his hand a few times before he was able to read the label. “Wait… is this the prophecy Dumbledore was talking about?”

“It’s been fulfilled,” Remus said in awe and then he gave Harry a pointed look. “It was that Dark Lord in Santika, wasn’t it? It had to be.”

“Yeah, it was. His name was Rylan. The whole prophecy fits him perfectly.”

Sirius placed the glass orb back on the table and then sank down in a nearby chair. “Fucking hell, that stupid thing was never about Voldemort.” He stared at James and Lily while his eyes shimmered. “It was never supposed to be you two.”

“That’s in the past,” Lily said, sounding not nearly as emotional as Sirius looked.

“We got to watch our son grow up, we got to teach him all we know, and we couldn’t be happier about that,” James said as he floated over to Sirius, crouching down in front of him. “We don’t blame you, Padfoot. Wormtail betrayed us and Voldemort killed us. We were at war. Prophecy or not, our number would have come up sooner or later.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sirius whispered, burying his face in his hands while his shoulders shook. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“We know,” Lily said, not unkindly. “Please, Sirius, look out for Harry from now on in our stead. He needs living people around him he can trust.”

“Yeah, as far as I’m concerned, we’ll move to your new country,” Remus said with a sigh while he placed a comforting hand on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Wait, what country?” James asked as he gave his son a questioning look.

“I made a country, and I’ve called is Silgram!” Harry beamed at his family. “I went to the DMLE yesterday and found out that all the magic I regularly use is illegal in Britain so I decided to make my own country, simple as that.”

Fleamont started laughing in sheer delight, and soon most of the others joined him.

Lily rubbed her hands down her face. “Oh, Harry. You really can be just as impulsive as your father.”

“Hey,” James said with an offended little noise. “I think it’s a brilliant idea. Well done, Harry.”

“Thanks!”

“Yeah, we’ll move here,” Sirius said, inhaling a shuddering breath. “The ministry can’t get to me here, and neither can Voldemort.”

“I’m not too worried about him,” Harry said, while V cackled with laughter on his shoulder. “You two can go and fight him if you want, but I’ve got a country to build and run.” Harry waited for a reply, but neither men had anything urgent to say to that. “I suggest you go home and pack your belongings. Tomorrow I’ll build you a house. Or I can bring any existing house here if you want.”

For a moment Sirius looked like he wanted to dismiss that suggestion, but then he got a thoughtful look on his face. “Any house? Even a large Manor house?”

“Sure, as long as you give me access to the wards. And any surrounding lands if need be. Will take me half a day at most.” Harry looked curiously at his godfather. “Did you want to bring your parents’ house here?”

“No,” Sirius said while a grin appeared on his face. “I’m thinking of Black Manor. It’s mine since my grandfather died several years ago. I haven’t been there since I got out of Azkaban, thinking it would be too obvious to hide there and the ministry might come looking for me there first thing.” Sirius looked at Remus and nudged him with his elbow. “We could fix the place up once it’s here, take our time.”

“I’d be happy to help,” Remus easily agreed. “And I’d also be happy to help you with the island, Harry.”

“Well then, I’d like to welcome you to Silgram, as the first residents, aside from me as the founder, of course.” Harry toasted his new subjects with his glass of wine.

Not long after that Sirius and Remus apparated home, after Harry handed them an empty wine bottle which he’d turned into a portkey to his castle. Since the island was still currently moving, it would be difficult to apparate to it again the next day since it wouldn’t be in the same location anymore.

The next week kept Harry plenty busy. He checked up on Keket, who was happy enough to camp out in the Forbidden Forest for a while longer, to explore and hunt the giant spiders, while Harry worked on creating a new land for her to hunt.

Harry also spent a day moving Black Manor to Silgram, after Sirius gave him access to the wards. It was a large, gothic Manor house with substantial grounds, including a kitchen garden, wide lawns, paddocks, some woodland and even a small lake. Harry marked the whole border of the property with the necessary runes, and then carefully folded the whole thing in on itself without actually damaging anything. It was dimensional magic, fascinating stuff that Harry had studied extensively over the years. It wasn’t quite the same as how he managed to shrink his castle, which had runes inscribed in every aspect of the building to accomplish it’s mobility.

“Do you want me to put it beside the shoreline?” Harry asked his godfather before he left to get the manor. “That would give you an awesome ocean view.”

Surprisingly, Sirius shuddered and shook his head. “Nah, just plop it down somewhere in the centre. Hearing waves crashing on rocks reminds me too much of Azkaban.”

And Harry hadn’t asked more and simply transported the whole things to the centre of the island. The whole thing fit nicely, and it also created a nice few feet of instant topsoil with plants and animals already in place.

It took the island a few days to move to its new location further out into sea, and once it was settled down and steady, Harry continued growing the island while he showed Sirius and Remus how to transfigure rock into topsoil. The soil they created was sterile to begin with, devoid of all life, but the lands around Black Manor were filled with life which would expand to the transfigured soil, and once Harry had enlarged the island to a size he liked, he apparated to Britain and scooped up random swats of grassland, heather, forestland and coastal dunes, and transferred those to the sterile soil in Silgram, so life could take hold there. Harry also bought tonnes of grass and clover seeds, and mixed them with wild flower seeds to create the basis for diverse meadows. Then he purchased more aged horse manure than he’d ever needed before and spread it out around the newly transfigured soil to give the seeds something to munch on.

Remus helped him inscribe runes into the rocks all around the island for permanent wards and the strongest muggle repellent charms they could find. Harry also inscribed growth runes for quick plant maturity, and weather runes around the island, to control the temperature. He planned on just letting the seasons happen naturally in the future, but for the coming months he wanted to create a mild spring which would allow all the plants and microscopic life to start growing instead of lying dormant over the winter.

Halfway through the week, Harry was suddenly beset by a whole flock of owls, all dropping letters and parcels at his feet the moment he stepped out of his castle. Fleamont had reported the previous day that McGonagall, who Fleamont spied on, had reminded Dumbledore that he had mail wards up around Harry, and that since Harry was an adult now this was illegal.

Apparently, Dumbledore had decided to finally remove those wards. With a sigh, Harry levitated the whole lot inside the castle so nothing would blow away in the strong winds they got on the island and pulled the door shut.

Both Sirius and Remus laughed in his face when Harry told them what happened, and then they offered to help him go through it all later that day. Which was a good thing, because Harry had no clue what half the mail meant.

They used every detection charm they knew while they were seated around a table in Harry’s library, opening one piece of mail at a time. There was a substantial amount of what Sirius dubbed fanmail, random people writing to tell Harry how happy they were to hear he had returned safe and sound. There were also a few anonymous pieces that basically stated he should have stayed away, most which carried minor hexes which were easily detected, but one was imbued with some type of poison that made the detection charm flare up at once. Good thing Harry knew a thing or two about security and never touched any unknown object that others tried to give him. He’d never forgotten that the most powerful warlord he’d ever known, Bram the Red, was ultimately brought down by poison.

Harry also received a large folder of meticulous research pertaining to the tournament, with an accompanying letter asking where he was and that his three young assistants were worried about his wellbeing. Harry set that one aside to answer later.

There were also a few letters from the Ministry. One from Minister Fudge, asking him for a casual meeting, and one from the Department of Education, to remind him that all wizards in Britain needed to have at least three OWLs if they were to carry a wand and that Harry could book an appointment to take said OWLs in December if he wanted to.

“I still have my textbooks from Hogwarts,” Remus said while Sirius chuckled in amusement. “You can use those to prepare.”

“I’ve never taken an exam in my life,” Harry said while staring at the letter in his hands.

“Not even the magical school you attended?” Remus asked.

“Nah, I burned it down before I was old enough to graduate it.” Harry folded the letter and then noticed both men staring at him with wide eyes. “What?”

There was also a letter written in glowing green ink from a woman named Rita Skeeter who asked him very urgently for an appointment.

“Oh no,” Remus said with a firm shake of his head. “She’s a journalist and not one who values the truth in any way, shape or form.”

“She would lie about me?” Harry asked with a frown.

“Yep, and get paid for it, too,” Sirius said sagely and that was all Harry needed to know. He added the letter to the pile to be used to start fires in the fireplace.

Since Harry had no way of sending mail, and V laughed right in his face when Harry even suggested that he carry a letter to Hogwarts, Harry eventually tossed a small pouch of gold in Remus’ direction and basically begged him to go buy him an owl, and to buy himself and Sirius one as well if they wanted one. Harry was far too busy creating his own country to bother.

Remus shook his head, apparated away and came back an hour later holding three large cages with three different owls. Harry immediately zoned in on a giant brown and black speckled bird with bright orange eyes, which Remus told him was a Eurasian Eagle Owl. Harry loved the bird, which he learned was a female, so he named her Poppy, since he’d just seen the first poppies bloom in the meadows around his castle.

Remus had chosen a beautiful barn owl for himself, which he named Lawrence, though he never explained if that name had any special meaning for him. Sirius happily accepted the tawny owl that was left and named her Juniper, which James later told Harry was actually the name of the owl Sirius’ late brother Regulus had owned during his time at Hogwarts.

Poppy immediately got to go on a long trip to deliver a letter from Harry to his three assistants, thanking them for their hard work, assuring them he was fine but had merely relocated elsewhere, and to pay them each a Galleon for their first week of employment.

Harry also spent time to add a large mountain in the middle of the island, just because he could, and then decided to add a water feature. He inscribed one side of the mountain with the necessary runes, to summon a large, continuous stream of oceanwater, filter out all the salt and other excess minerals, and then have it fall down the side of the mountain to form a river that flowed across the island and provided fresh water for the wildlife Harry had already transported there by way of the grounds of Black Manor.

Once the grassy meadows had really started growing, greatly sped up by Harry’s runework around the island, Harry purchased a large fold of Scottish Highland cattle. Or coos, as they were officially called. He released them onto the meadows and the beasts happily settled in to graze and chew their cud, unperturbed by the hard winds.

Once Sirius spotted them wandering across the lawn of Black Manor one afternoon, he couldn’t help himself and changed into a dog so he could chase them around for a while, careful to stay out of reach of their sharp horns. The coos didn’t seem very impressed by the wild dog and merely grazed their way across Sirius’ property.

Harry also spend an afternoon flying around the island and planting all manner of trees by way of their seeds. Acorns for oaks, hazelnuts for hazel, chestnuts and more. He planted beech, ash and willow, but also birch and elder and hawthorn. Remus had given him a few books on the native plants and trees of Britain and Harry was determined to provide a rich diversity of flora on his island. Remus helped by making lists of things to add in the future, like certain types of insects, reptiles and mammals.

And Harry had a blast, creating his own country from scratch while getting to know his parents’ best friends. Of course, James was never far away while Lily sometimes stopped by but mostly returned to Snape’s side to keep an eye on him.

“Wait, so you’ve been spying on us the whole time?” Sirius asked, sounding unsure if he should be delighted or terrified. “But you were invisible?”

“Harry controls who can see us,” James said, grinning like it was the funniest thing in the world. “And you really should stop doing that twice a day, Padfoot, or you’ll go blind.”

“Fuck right off!” Sirius finally barked out a laugh and shook his head. “This is just the afterlife version of your invisibility cloak.”

“As long as we’re on Silgram, I’ll keep him visible. No one can execute me here for that kind of magic,” Harry said without a care in the world.

“Thanks,” both Sirius and James said at the same time before cracking up while Remus shook his head with a fond smile.

When almost two weeks had passed, and the island was coming along nicely, Harry decided that it was time to start collecting some small animals to add to his new country. Rodents for the owls to eat, some hedgehogs, rabbits, that sort of thing. He stepped out of the castle, V on his shoulder, fur cloak keeping him warm, when a flash of fire had him jump a foot backwards.

Before Harry knew what the fuck was going on, he was engulfed in flames, V screeching on his shoulder in a panic, and the next thing Harry knew he was standing in what was obviously a classroom, filled with the tournament champions, a handful of adults, a highly amused phoenix, and Albus Dumbledore.

“Ah, there is our final champion.” Dumbledore gestured for Harry to join them. “Welcome to the Weighing of the Wands.”

“What the fuck,” Harry said, with feeling.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

“Now, now, Mr Potter,” Dumbledore said with a disapproving frown. “There is no need for such language.”

Harry looked around the room with narrowed eyes until he finally stared at Dumbledore. “There is every reason for such language seeing as I was just kidnapped from my own home by your bird.”

Dumbledore laughed as though Harry had just told the funniest joke he’d heard all week. “If you’d bothered to arrive on time for the Wand Weighing Ceremony, I needn’t have sent Fawkes to fetch you.”

Something dark and primal stirred in Harry’s gut, feral magic that desperately wanted to lash out and put everyone in the room on their behinds for their sheer insolence. Harry took a few large steps towards the old man until he stood toe to toe with him. Harry had a few inches on Dumbledore and looked down at him, knowing his eyes must be glowing from his inner magical turmoil.

“If someone had bothered to let me know there was a meeting today, I would have been here on time, I assure you. But no one has yet told me one fucking thing about this tournament, which you entered me into illegally and involuntarily.” If possible, Harry leaned even closer to Dumbledore, looming over him. Dumbledore’s genial expression morphed into something new, something between fury and fear, and Harry relished it. “Know this, Mr Dumbledore. If you ever dare to send your bird to kidnap me again, I will see it as the act of aggression that it is, and I will respond in kind, is that understood?”

“Perfectly,” Dumbledore whispered, blue eyes having lost their twinkle entirely.

“I am not one of your students that you can use as a puppet for your entertainment,” Harry added, barely above a whisper. “You’d do well to remember that.” And with that Harry took a few steps away from the old man.

Dumbledore inhaled a deep, shuddering breath and then raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and addressed the other, obviously shocked, occupants of the room. “Merely a misunderstanding, I assure you. All is fine.”

“Mr Potter,” Bartemius Crouch said before briefly clearing his throat. “I apologize for the oversight, but usually the students’ Head of House or Headmaster informs them of the schedule. Obviously, you have neither, and we should have realized that. I will personally send you a complete schedule of the tournament this afternoon.”

Harry had calmed down a little and he gave Crouch a big grin. “That, and a complete rulebook, would be much appreciated.” Harry briefly glared at Dumbledore before addressing Crouch again. “And seeing how Dumbledore finally decided to remove the illegal mail ward he had on me, I should even be able to receive your mail.”

“Perhaps it’s time to start the ceremony,” Dumbledore said quickly before anyone could react to that unexpected revelation. “Champions, over here. Mr Ollivander, if you’re ready.”

Harry stood to the side, letting the other champions go first. V sat on his shoulder and gave Fawkes the phoenix narrow-eyed looks. “Bad bird, bad bird.”

“We’ll put up some wards to keep that thing out, don’t worry,” Harry whispered to his companion.

Ollivander, the wandmaker who had all but kicked Harry out of his shop a couple of weeks before, examined all the champion’s wands in a ceremony that was not only dreadfully boring but also a complete waste of time.

Finally, it was Harry’s turn. Without pause, Harry pulled his wand out of his satchel and all but shoved it into Ollivander’s hands, who seemed particularly reluctant to accept it. His hands even shook a little.

“Ah yes,” Ollivander said, holding Harry’s wand as though it was a live cobra. “Not from any wandmaker I’m familiar with.”

And Harry was about to make up some story about an imaginary wandmaker from Santika when something occurred to him. Something that should have occurred to him a lot sooner, probably, but then again, Harry had no experience how to act when being forced to move from one society to another one, and he was basically just winging it.

What occurred to Harry was that no one in that room, or in fact in the entire wizarding world, knew what Santika was like. No one knew what kind of magic was used there, or how it was used in the first place. So for all that they knew, it was perfectly normal in Santika for sorcerers to make their own wands. They had no evidence to the contrary.

“I made it,” Harry said with a warm smile that he poured a nice amount of nostalgia into. “It’s a rite of passage in Santika, to make your own wand that you’ll use throughout adulthood.”

“Fascinating,” Ollivander said, now carefully turning Harry’s wand over in his hands as though it might jump up at any time and poke his eye out. “Cypress and… raven feather?”

“Indeed,” Harry said and gestured to V on his shoulder. “My friend here was kind enough to make a donation.”

“Veles is a very good bird,” V said and Harry had a hard time holding back his snort of amusement. V took great delight in pretending to be just a clever, talking bird to keep people from guessing he was so much more. Really, if this whole horcrux thing didn’t work out for V, he should become an actor.

“No wonder the wand responds so well to you and displays such loyalty.” Ollivander waved it around as quickly as he could and five or so bats appeared over their heads. A few people around them ducked, covering their heads with their hands but the bats only flapped around a little in confusion before going to roost in the dark curtains beside the window.

Harry accepted his wand back and slipped it inside his satchel while Ollivander gave him an apprehensive look but didn’t say anything else.

“Well, that concludes the ceremony,” Dumbledore said with a few claps of his hand.

“Pictures next!” a woman said while she advanced on Harry and the other champions, herding them all into a corner. “Mr Potter, I’m Rita Skeeter. Perhaps you’ll have time for a quick interview later?”

“I’m afraid not,” Harry said with an expression of utmost regret. “I am kept very busy with adjusting myself to this new world I suddenly find myself in.”

Skeeter narrowed her eyes at Harry, but let her photographer get in lots of shots without interruption. V took great delight in posing on Harry’s shoulder, raising his head this way or that, and spreading his wings for dramatic purposes. Harry simply stared ahead, already tired of this whole game.

“Thank you,” the photographer finally said, and Harry immediately marched to the door without giving anyone a chance to stop him.

“Mr Potter!” Skeeter tried but Harry simply ignored her and used his large strides to put some serious distance between himself and the others in no time.

Harry found himself in an unknown corridor somewhere in Hogwarts, V glancing around curiously before pointing his beak to the right. “There, there.”

V knew more about Hogwarts’ layout than Harry did, so he followed his companion’s directions until they came to a grand staircase. Just as Harry rushed down the stairs, taking two steps at a time, a voice called out to him.

“Lad!” Moody came clunking out of a corridor, frantically waving at Harry, Patroclus floating by his side. “Laddie. We’ve missed you.”

Harry’s first instinct was to dismiss Moody the imposter, but then he realized this was an opportune moment to forward some vital information to Voldemort. As far as Harry knew, Voldemort was still operating under the assumption that the prophecy related to him and was still in play. It was probably a good idea that Voldemort learn as soon as possible that this wasn’t the case at all, lest he personally try to involve Harry in a war Harry had no intention to fight in.

“Mr Moody,” Harry said with a friendly smile as he stopped his descend and approached Moody. “I’ve been kept far too busy, I must confess.” And then Harry hung his head a little, rubbing a hand across his face as though it was all a little too much for him.

“Ah, laddie,” Moody said in a sympathetic voice while patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s have a cuppa, shall we?”

“We shall!” Harry eagerly followed Moody back to his office, but just before they reached the door a bug landed on his arm.

Except it wasn’t a bug, because Harry could very clearly sense the thing had a human soul. A very sharp, rather slimy soul. Harry wasn’t sure what to do for a moment, certain that this was an Animagus who thought they could spy on him or something like that.

Just as Harry decided he’d just pluck the bug off and toss it down the corridor, V shifted on his shoulder, eyeing the bug on Harry’s opposite arm with narrowed eyes. V was as sensitive to souls as Harry was, so he must also realize this was a person and not an insect.

Before Harry could stop him, V leaned forward, picked the bug off Harry’s arm, crushed it between his large beak and swallowed it whole.

Harry quickly bit his lip so he wouldn’t burst out into laughter. Whoever this person was, they hadn’t been very bright to think that being a bug was safe in any way. Honestly, you’d think any manner of critters would try to eat it, or people would simply crush it in annoyance.

“Dumb bug,” V chattered in a snooty tone, beak in the air.

Ah well. Harry figured they’d see soon enough who had suddenly gone missing in Remus’ newspaper that he received every morning. Harry put it out of his mind and followed Moody into his office.

And so for the second time, Harry found himself sitting in Moody the imposter’s office, now with a cup of tea in front of him that he ignored.

“So what’s eating you, laddie?” Moody asked while his artificial eye was looking at Harry from all directions.

V chattered with laughter for a moment while Harry bit his lip again to keep his own amusement hidden. What a delicious pun Moody had just unknowingly made.

Leaning back in his chair, Harry released a deep, deep sigh. “Well, getting kidnapped in a column of flames this morning wasn’t any fun.”

Moody chuckled knowingly for a moment. “What has Albus done now?”

“Forgot to tell me there was a meeting and when I obviously didn’t show up he sent his bird to kidnap me from my own home.”

“That man.” Moody sat back in his seat as well as he tilted his head. “Albus has gotten a little too arrogant in his older years, I’m sorry to say.”

“Is that what it is?” Harry asked with clear humour in his voice. “Arrogance? I’m not sure that explains his insistence that a prophecy that was fulfilled years ago is still active today and I should act on it. That’s senility, not arrogance.”

Moody, whose whole face had been crinkled in quiet amusement, sat up ramrod straight and stared at Harry with his mouth opened slightly. “What was that? What prophecy?”

Harry looked down for a moment so Moody wouldn’t see the shine of glee in his eyes. “Dumbledore showed me a prophecy that he said was about me and Voldemort. I didn’t buy any of that, so I went to the Department of Mysteries, and they confirmed that said prophecy had already been fulfilled years ago and was never about Voldemort in the first place.”

“How…how…how,” Moody swallowed several times, face paling rapidly. “How was it fulfilled then?”

Harry waved his hand around in a dismissive gesture, as though none of this was even remotely interesting. “In Santika, there was a Dark Lord, much more powerful than Voldemort can ever hope to be. I took him out when I was 17, and as it turns out, the prophecy was always about him and me. It’s as simple as that.”

“I see.” Moody looked like he might pass out any moment now. “Do you have any evidence of that?”

“Well, I took the darkened prophecy orb home with me,” Harry said with a shrug, secretly really enjoying Moody the imposter’s extreme reactions. “I’m using it as a paperweight, currently.”

Moody released a high-pitched stream of laughter that had an obviously hysterical edge to it. “That is…unexpected.”

“Not really,” Harry said and offered Moody a wide grin. “I’ve never put much stock in soothsayers and fortune-tellers. I much rather make my own fate. This reminds me, I’m thinking of putting up some anti-phoenix wards on my new country. Where can I find some?”

Moody seemed a little calmer now, though he still looked decidedly pale, but at least his arteficial eye was spinning again. “I have an… associate who’s created some amazing wards to keep phoenixes out. I’ll ask him if he’s willing to share.”

Harry waited a heartbeat, well aware what sort of hint he’d just dropped for Moody and now he was waiting for it to be picked up.

“Wait… your own country?” Moody asked, eyes widening again. “You’re going to have to give me more than that, laddie.”

Harry laughed, throwing his head back. “Ah, Mr Moody, I’ll gladly give you everything. I learned that most of the magic I use is illegal in this country, so I simply created my own, where I can have my own laws and where no magic is illegal.”

If anything, Moody was now looking even paler than before as he sat frozen again, staring at Harry but not really seeing him. “What? How? Where?”

“I’ve created land before,” Harry said in the kind of tone he might use to describe the weather forecast. “Once you know how to do it, there’s really nothing to it. I created an island far off the coast of southern Ireland, and I’m now in the process of turning it into a complete ecosystem. It’s hard but rewarding work.”

“That is…I’m not sure what to say.” Moody briefly shook his head. “That is either the most genius thing I’ve ever heard, or the most insane.”

“It can’t be both?” Harry said with a wink.

Moody released a hoarse bark of laughter. “Are you going to invite people to live there eventually?”

“Absolutely,” Harry said, sitting up a little while he warmed up to the subject. “I’ve got two residents already, but in the future, anyone who wants can come live there as long as they obey the rules. It is a completely magical country, no muggles anyone needs to hide from, so everyone will be able to perform magic freely.”

Moody the imposter actually got a little misty eyed at hearing that. “Let me guess, the first two residents are Lupin and Black.” When Harry nodded in reply, Moody said, “That explains where they disappeared off to. Albus was complaining just the other day he’d tried floo-calling them a few times to no avail.”

Harry gave Moody a small, knowing smile. “Silgram, that is the name of my country, doesn’t extradite people, not even wanted criminals.”

Ah yes, now Moody had to look down to hide some very real emotions that passed over his face. Harry and his family of spies had by then theorized that the imposter was in fact Barty Crouch Jr, and Sirius had told Harry about Barty’s brief stint in Azkaban. Obviously, Barty had escaped somehow while faking his own death, and if any of that ever came out he’d very much be a wanted criminal. Silgram must sound like paradise to him.

“That is…er…” Moody had to clear his throat a few times before he could continue. “Lunch is over and I’ve got classes to teach, lad.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Harry said as he got up from his seat, knowing Moody was going to run to Voldemort the first chance he got, and of course both Patroclus and Auntie Eustice would be there to witness it. Harry couldn’t wait to hear a full report about what Voldemort would have to say about Harry’s revelations.

Harry left a rather stunned-looking Moody behind in his office, and hurried down the main staircase towards the entrance hall.

The reason why he’d told Moody about Silgram was because he wanted to get that rumour started, that there was a new magical country. And he wanted to get that rumour started specifically amongst dark wizards, because those were ultimately the main immigration target, though Harry would welcome light wizards, too, of course. He just didn’t want Silgram to be flooded with light wizards first before any dark population could be established, because that might give the light wizards the impression they could shape Silgram to their desires and Harry wasn’t about to let that happen.

Once Harry exited the castle, without anymore interruptions, thankfully, he decided to check up on Keket. He strolled across the wide lawn while V spread his wings and flew over his head in large circles.

“Keket!” Harry called as he walked up and down the treeline, looking for his oldest friend. “Girl, where are you?”

“Harry!”

Whipping around on his feet, Harry saw the groundskeeper, Hagrid, approaching him. “Ah, Mr Hagrid, have you seen my friend Keket?”

“Aye, she’s resting in my home,” Hagrid said, gesturing at Harry to follow him. “She’s been spending a lot o’ time huntin’ the spiders. I had a good talk with ‘er, told ‘er to leave Aragog alone but the centaurs had been complainin’ about Aragog’s offspring, so she’s been lowering their numbers.”

Harry followed Hagrid inside a cosy hut, where he found Keket stretched out on the grimy couch with some kind of hound lying half on top of her, both of them fast asleep.

“Well,” Harry said with a smile aimed at Hagrid. “I’m glad to see she made some new friends.”

“Aye,” Hagrid replied, ducking his head a little. “She’s a right sweet girl, that one.”

“That she is.”

V glared at Keket and clicked his beak. “Lazy beast, lazy beast.”

Keket rumbled in response but couldn’t even be bothered to open her eyes.

Hagrid poured them both large mugs of tea, and this time Harry actually drank some while he low-key interrogated Hagrid about all the creatures that lived in the Forbidden Forest and surrounding lands. Hagrid mentioned centaurs and merpeople, and Harry figured he might at some point, once Silgram was a little more established, extend an invitation to them to live in his new country. After all, what was a magical country without magical creatures? Naturally, he’d also offer an invitation to some unicorns, hippogriffs and all the other animals Hagrid told him about.

“Thank you for the tea.” Harry got up and looked down at Keket with a fond smile. “Do you want to come and see our new home for yourself, girl?”

Keket rumbled a time or two, finally opened her four eyes and then slid off the couch in one slow, fluid movement while she stretched her legs and opened her mouth wide in a yawn, showing off her many sharp, silver teeth.

“What a beauty,” Hagrid sighed. “She’s welcome here anytime.”

“I’m sure she’ll want to return to hunt the forest again soon.” Keket followed Harry out of the hut and across Hogwarts’ grounds, and the second they passed the gates, Harry placed his hand on her head and apparated the three of them home. He sincerely hoped Moody would come up with those phoenix wards soon, because it did not sit well with Harry that a fucking bird had been able to snatch him from his own country without warning.

0000000000

Voldemort was seated in his favourite armchair in front of a window in his office, reading a fascinating book on the travels of a zoologist in search of a lethifold that had been terrorizing a nearby town in Indonesia. It was almost written as popular fiction, but it was a true account of an impossible hunt to kill an unkillable creature, and it was a surprisingly suspenseful read.

The wards flared and Voldemort reluctantly closed his book, bookmarker firmly in place so he could continue reading once Barty’s business with him was done.

Barty came limping inside his office, still wearing Moody’s body, and without saying anything pulled a memory out of his head with his wand, dumped it into the pensieve and then all but threw himself in a chair.

“My Lord, brace yourself,” was all Barty said, and while feeling both curious and apprehensive, Voldemort approached the pensieve.

Voldemort lowered his head to the pensieve, fell into the memory, and when he pulled back out some fifteen minutes later, he was a changed man.

Truly, it was as if from that moment on there existed two versions of Voldemort. The one from before viewing The Memory, and the new one, come to life after viewing The Memory. It was safe to say that Voldemort’s entire world had just upended itself, fell over in all directions, and was no longer recognizable as a place Voldemort had once lived in.

Everything had changed.

Everything.

“My Lord,” Barty said, quickly jumping up from his own chair and pushing another one under Voldemort’s behind when it became clear Voldemort’s legs could no longer support him and he was about to fall over like a common drunkard. Barty was back to looking like himself but Voldemort hardly noticed it.

“The prophecy,” Voldemort whispered, staring ahead at nothing at all, his whole body trembling but with what he wasn’t sure. “The prophecy.”

“I know,” Barty said quietly as he sat back down in his own chair and gave Voldemort a concerned look.

“Do you believe Potter is lying?” Voldemort asked, still staring straight ahead.

“It didn’t seem like it,” Barty said with a helpless shrug. “I can ask him to show me the darkened orb as proof.”

“Perhaps, perhaps,” Voldemort mused, his head entirely empty yet full of questions all at the same time. “If this is true then…everything…”

“I know,” Barty whispered again.

“Everything,” Voldemort said again, finally sitting up a little and looking at his loyal servant. “The old man has a lot to answer for, trying to take a prophecy that wasn’t about me and using it to see me dead.”

Barty chuckled, but it wasn’t much of an amused sound. “The old man pissed Potter off, too, this morning.”

“Ah yes, the phoenix wards he asked about.” Voldemort briefly narrowed his eyes. Of course, he’d created wards to keep that infernal bird out many decades ago. He could share them with Potter, but Voldemort was a Slytherin and such things did come at a price. He just wasn’t sure yet what to charge Potter.

Because as it stood now, if Potter had told the truth about the prophecy, then Potter was no longer his enemy, unless Potter himself decided to raise his wand against Voldemort. And from what Voldemort had seen so far, Potter didn’t seem very inclined to do such a thing.

“What do you make of Potter creating his own country, my Lord?” Barty asked quietly, eyes wide as he stared at Voldemort.

It was, if Voldemort was completely honest with himself, an utterly brilliant move.

Of course, Voldemort had about a million and more questions about it. How had Potter managed such a thing, what magic had he used, how did he plan to convince the international community that his country was a sovereign nation and more.

But the plan in and of itself, the creation of a new country that allowed all magic, was absolutely brilliant.

Here Voldemort had gone to war over control of magical Britain, had lost loyal subjects, had ended whole family lines of powerful, magical people, and had yet to see any real results in his quest to bring back forbidden magics and ensure dark magic was treated equally.

And here Potter was, who simply created his own country where all magic was allowed and accomplished everything in two weeks that Voldemort had fought and bloody well died for over the span of almost fifty years.

Brilliant.

But also absolutely infuriating because why the hell had Voldemort never thought of this himself?

For the first time since regaining his body and more of his soul than he’d had in decades, Voldemort was tempted to curse Barty just for the hell of it, just because he was absolutely furious about anyone, but especially Potter, solving the issues that Voldemort could not.

But Voldemort was a changed man now, and he kept all those dark emotions inside while he gave Barty a steady look. “I have to see it to believe it. But a magical country that allows all magic certainly has potential.”

“Yeah.” Barty’s grin was wide and hopeful. “I’d like to see it, too.”

Voldemort matched Barty’s grin with one of his own. “Well then, my friend, shall we trade some phoenix wards for a personal tour of this new land?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

Harry decided to visit his only neighbours to tell them what had happened that morning, so he strolled across the wide meadows in the direction of Sirius’ Manor. Keket bounced by his side, turning in circles a few times to take the new scenery in.

“You’re welcome to go and explore,” Harry told his beastly friend. “Just don’t eat the coos.”

Keket tilted her head in obvious confusion.

“The big, hairy things with the horns.” Harry sighed in annoyance when Keket still blinked oblivious eyes at him. “The cows, Keket. You know what a fucking cow looks like. Don’t eat them.”

Keket clicked in amusement at Harry’s frustrated response and then she loped off, looking like the nightmare version of a calf being let out into the pasture on the first day of spring.

“Dumb beast,” V cawed in a very judgemental tone while he glared after Keket.

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “Sometimes I think she’s actually smarter than the both of us.”

V had nothing to say to that, but just turned his beak up in the air while releasing a haughty sniff.

For all that Harry had packed up Black Manor and moved it to its current location, he’d not yet set foot inside of it. He’d been far too busy putting his new country to rights, but he was curious what the building looked like on the inside.

Remus opened the door after Harry pounded on it a few times. “Harry! Come in. We’re just going over some plans for the remodel.”

The house had a lovely dark feeling to it, not as intense and suffocating as Grimmauld Place, but it was undoubtedly a home where many generations of dark wizards and witches had lived. They found Sirius and James in a large study, with several blueprints spread out on a table.

“You’ll never believe what Dumbledore did this morning,” Harry said before his godfather could even greet him. And he then told them all that had happened, leaving nothing out. Well, except for the bug that V ate, since Harry still had no idea who that had even been.

“I’m not sure if it was such a good idea to tell Barty Jr about the prophecy being fulfilled,” Remus said carefully while both James and Sirius snickered at the idea of Harry being kidnapped by Fawkes.

“Actually, I think it’s pretty smart,” James said, much to his friends’ surprise. “I much prefer that Voldemort knows Harry is not his prophesized enemy, to be honest.”

“Well, when you look at it like that,” Remus mused with a thoughtful look.

“Tea for the Master and his guests,” a high-pitched voice suddenly said behind them, and Harry turned around to see a small creature with large ears carrying a tray full of a tea service.

“Thanks, Dilby,” Sirius said, gesturing for the elf to put it on a nearby coffee table. It had to be a house-elf, Harry thought. He’d heard about them often enough from his family, but he’d never actually seen one.

“Hi,” Harry said, addressing the house-elf as he crouched down to get a better look. “I’ve never met one of you before. It’s a pleasure.”

Dilby looked at Harry with wide eyes before ducking his head. “Oh, Master’s guest is being too kind.”

“You are a creature of magic, aren’t you?” Harry asked with a small frown. “Have you been with Sirius for long?”

“Oh yes, Dilby is being magical. And Dilby’s family is serving the Black family for many, many generations.”

A slow smile spread across Harry’s face. “So you must have deceased family members buried on the property somewhere?”

“Harry, no,” Remus said at once, realizing where Harry was going with this.

Sirius looked confused for a moment, before he quickly scrunched his face up in disgust. “For fuck’s sake, Harry, if you want a house-elf, just buy one.”

Harry jumped to his feet, gesturing wildly with his hands. “That won’t work. I can’t shrink my castle with living things inside of it, so any staff needs to be dead.”

“I don’t think it’s very respectful to force a dead house-elf to work for you without their consent,” Remus said, not unreasonably. “They’ve worked long enough. Let them rest.”

To everyone’s surprise, Dilby spoke up. “Dilby’s kin would be honoured to work even after death. We is being good servants, and we is loving to work, and we would work even after death if we could!”

“See!” Harry grinned at his friends while pointing at the house-elf. “He says it’s fine!”

“Dilby’s kin is being buried below the big beech tree beside the lake.” Dilby nodded at Harry and disappeared with a pop.

“I don’t even know if it will work,” Harry said in an attempt to appease his friends, who still looked more than a little worried. “Magical creatures can be tricky to reanimate. I’ll just try with one, just to see what happens.”

Before Sirius or Remus could reply Dilby popped back into the room, holding out a scroll to Sirius. “Mail is arriving for Master Sirius.”

“Thanks.” Sirius quickly unrolled the scroll and as he read through it his eyes grew wider and wider. Once he was done and lowered the scroll he had a look of sheer amazement on his face. “They’re giving me a trial. Tomorrow.”

“What?” Remus all but yanked the scroll out of Sirius’ hands as both Harry and James leaned over his shoulders to read it as well. “Sirius…this is what you need to become a free man again.”

“But why now?” Sirius asked, eyes looking a little watery.

“Oh,” Harry said as he remembered what he’d done. “When I was at the Ministry a couple of weeks ago to get information on the prophecy, I spoke to Amelia Bones and told her you never had a trial. She said she’d personally look into it.”

“And she came through,” James concluded before floating up to Sirius with a wide grin on his face. “Padfoot, you’ll finally be able to get the truth out there. You deserve this.”

Harry felt the need to point something out, even though he was happy for his godfather. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. You can simply stay here and be a free man.”

Placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder, Sirius gave him a tremulous smile. “I know, and I’m grateful, believe me. But I want to be free in my country of origin. You’ll be there, right?”

“Of course,” Harry said at once.

“We’ll both be there,” Remus quickly added. “Witnesses for the defence.”

“Let’s make a plan,” James said, clapping his hands together.

And that is what they did for the rest of the day. Harry summoned his family members, to share the good news and to hear any advice they had to give, since they were far more experienced with all things Wizengamot than Harry was. Harry returned to his castle just after midnight, a strange feeling in his stomach.

“Bad, bad,” V chattered as he hopped onto the headboard of Harry’s bed.

“Yeah, buddy, I feel it, too.” And Harry did feel a giant sense of unease about the whole thing. He knew he’d requested Bones to look into Sirius’ lack of trial, but somehow he hadn’t thought getting his godfather a trial this quickly would be this easy. “Well, whatever happens, we’ll deal with it.” And yet he lay awake for a long time, staring up at the darkness, worrying what was going to happen the next day.

Remus insisted they apparate to a deserted alley in Muggle London and use the visitor’s entrance of the Ministry. Harry, who well remembered his disastrous floo trip, didn’t object. They crammed themselves into the red, glass box and stood quietly while it took them down into the Ministry.

Trouble started the moment they stepped out of the box into the enormous atrium. A few large men in red robes, which had to be Aurors, approached them at once. Behind them floated two of the foulest creatures Harry ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Sirius started trembling, a small keening noise escaping his throat, while Harry stepped in front of him at once. The foul beings, which had to be dementors, swooped around the Aurors and came rushing at Sirius with a chilling wail, rotten hands outstretched.

Harry’s first instinct in any unknown, threatening situation was to throw out his necromancy powers, and at once he felt the tormented souls captured deep within the foul beings. Harry couldn’t stop the sinister smirk from briefly appearing on his face as he wrapped his powers around those poor souls and yanked them out of the dementors, right through their rotten flesh.

Souls were Harry’s domain, after all, and he had complete control of them if he wanted to.

The dementors released unearthly screeches while their whole bodies trembled before folding in on themselves, resulting in a small explosion of black bits of fabric, ashes and rotten flesh.

“What the hell,” one of the Aurors said, looking around in shock as bits of rotten dementor rained down on his hair.

Harry kept a perfectly calm expression on his face. He hadn’t physically shown he was using his powers, so as far as those Aurors were concerned they hadn’t a clue what had just happened. “It seems your demons were defective,” Harry said, keeping a steady hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “We would appreciate an escort to the courtroom.”

“Fine, this way.” One Auror preceded them, leading them through the busy atrium, while the other two followed them all closely, wands out.

“It’ll be fine,” Harry whispered to his godfather, who’d stopped trembling the moment the dementors were gone. “I promise, it’ll be fine.” But honestly, Harry wasn’t sure anymore if it was going to be fine.

“Bad, bad,” V chattered softly, pulling on Harry’s hair right above his ear.

“I know. Keep your eyes open, V.”

They reached the courtroom without any other surprises and found it packed with both Wizengamot members and visitors.

“This way,” the Auror said, and gestured for Sirius to sit down on a large wooden chair. The moment Sirius did, thick, steel chains wrapped themselves around his arms and legs.

“Is that really necessary?” Remus asked the Auror. “He came here willingly.”

“Just standard protocol,” the Auror said in a dismissive voice, and then the three men spread out around the courtroom floor, wands in hand but aimed downward.

Harry slowly looked around, hand still firmly on Sirius’ shoulder. With his free hand he reached for his amulet and tucked it behind his shirt. While he did so, he brushed his thumb across it and summoned his entire family, just like they’d agreed to. Of course, only Harry could see them.

“Oh, a full house!” Auntie Eustice exclaimed as she twirled around.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good sign or not,” Dorea said, sharing a knowing look with Charis.

“And I’m not sure if I like the look on Dumbledore’s face,” Patroclus said, staring up at the elevated platform on which the Chief Warlock stood.

Harry looked at the old man as well and knew at once what his great-grandfather meant. While Dumbledore’s face displayed his usual genial mask, his eyes shone with something sharp and satisfying.

Dumbledore looked triumphant.

At once Harry knew they walked into a trap. Behind them the doors closed with a heavy bang.

“Very bad,” V chittered. “Very bad.”

“Sshh.” The noise around them died down as everyone took their seats and Harry didn’t want V to give away they knew what was happening. Harry looked around, trying to see if they had any allies in the room who might side with his godfather.

He found none. He saw Moody the imposter sitting in the stands, an older gentleman with a grey beard seated beside him and whispering in his ear. Moody didn’t acknowledge Harry in any way, couldn’t because he had a role to play. Even Amelia Bones looked straight ahead with a rather resigned expression, not meeting Harry’s eyes even when he stared at her.

They were alone, surrounded by enemies, and his godfather’s life was very much on the line.

Harry had no doubt this was Dumbledore’s doing. Punishment for Harry daring to speak out against the prophecy, for Harry publicly humiliating him during the wand ceremony.

Some would disagree with James and Lily’s firm assessment that Harry would have been a Gryffindor had he attended Hogwarts, but they’d be wrong, because Harry’s first instinct was to fight his way out of there. Harry did a quick assessment of the people around him. He could, easily enough, yank the souls out of the bodies of the strongest people in the room. Dumbledore, Bones, the Aurors. He could then send out a wave of powerful magic to put everyone else on their arses while Harry blasted the doors off their hinges. Anyone who dared pursue them would have their souls yanked out of their bodies as well.

If they were lucky, they’d make it to the atrium, where they’d hopefully find the exits not blocked by any building-wide security measures.

Harry inhaled a deep breath as he realized that even if they did manage to get out of such an escape attempt alive, Harry still had that blasted tournament he had to attend. Because if he didn’t, that binding magical contract would have his magic as recompense. And Harry was quite sure that if he murdered a bunch of people now to save his godfather, a whole battalion of Aurors would be waiting for him at the start of the first task.

They were well and truly trapped, and Harry knew it. Worse yet, Dumbledore knew it, too, if the gleeful smile he gave Harry was any indication.

No, Harry had to use his brain, not his brawn, to get out of that situation. There was no doubt in his mind they were going to give Sirius the death penalty one way or the other. Those dementors had been there for a reason. But Harry had sent a very clear signal to the dementors not to come near his godfather ever again, and according to the stories his family had told him, dementors had some sort of hive mind and could communicate across great distances. So that meant they’d have to use the other method of execution available to the Ministry.

The veil.

And Harry had a very good idea what the veil was exactly. And he also had enough confidence that should his godfather be tossed through the veil, Harry could save him.

He hoped. Well, he was willing to bet his godfather’s life on it that he could, at any rate.

“We are gathered here for the trial of Sirius Black,” Fudge said, and Harry focussed on the Minister, realizing the trial had already begun.

“Hem, hem,” a witch wearing a bright pink cardigan under her purple ceremonial robes spoke over the Minister. “So sorry to interrupt, Cornelius, but that man is a werewolf, the very one that terrorized Hogwarts last year.” She pointed a stubby finger at Remus. “And werewolves are not allowed on the courtroom floor.”

Sirius called out a protest, but Remus was quick to silence him with a gesture. “It’s fine. I’ll go. Good luck, Padfoot.”

Harry pulled Remus towards him, as though to give him an awkward hug. “Wait for us in the atrium near the visitor’s exit,” Harry whispered hurriedly in Remus’ ear. “No matter what happens, wait for us there.”

With a nod, Remus pulled back and walked out of the courtroom with his head held high, but with his shoulders slightly slumped.

“Well, now that’s settled,” Fudge continued, opening a large scroll and holding it up to his face to read from it. “The charges against Sirius Black are as follows. The murder of the wizard Peter Pettigrew. The murder of twelve muggles. The betrayal of James and Lily Potter to You Know Who. Escaping Azkaban. The attempted murder of Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley. Breaking and entering into Hogwarts multiple times and causing property damage to priceless magical artifacts.”

“What?” Sirius cried out, looking from Fudge to Harry with his mouth opened. “That’s a load of codswallop!”

“Sirius,” Harry whispered as he leaned over to speak directly into his godfather’s ear. “You have to trust me. I will get you out, I promise. Play along.”

Sirius gave a small nod, but his eyes shone with fear and uncertainty. “They’re not going to let me go,” he whispered back.

“They won’t, but I will.” Harry gave Sirius’ shoulder one last squeeze before righting himself.

“What has the defendant to say to the charges?” Dumbledore asked.

“Not guilty!” Sirius called out in a trembling voice.

“We request the use of Veritaserum,” Harry said, staring directly at Dumbledore, who took great delight in slamming his hammer down, never breaking eye contact with Harry.

“Denied. The defendant has not been in custody long enough to rule out the use of an antidote to Veritaserum.” Dumbledore looked the picture of regret. “If the defendant had wanted Veritaserum to be used he should have placed himself in custody at least twenty four hours before the start of the trial.”

Yeah, and if Sirius had done that he conveniently would have ended up kissed by a rogue dementor before the trial had even started.

Fudge held up a few scrolls. “I have here a sworn statement from Albus Dumbledore that James and Lily Potter told him Sirius Black was their secret keeper.”

James and Lily made outraged noises as they stood on either side of Sirius. “I told you we should have told Dumbledore the truth,” Lily hissed at James.

“I also have the report of the Aurors who initially arrested the defendant, that Sirius Black confessed right then and there to the murder of James and Lily Potter, Peter Pettigrew and the twelve muggles.” Fudge held up a final scroll. “And I have here a sworn statement of Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts, that the defendant attempted to murder him and three of his students last year at Hogwarts, which ultimately caused great bodily harm to Ronald Weasley.”

Harry remembered Ron telling him he’d broken an arm and an ankle during the scuffle at the Shrieking Shack, but the boy hadn’t seemed very traumatized by it.

“I didn’t try to kill them,” Sirius called out in a futile attempt to save himself. Harry couldn’t blame him, even though it had no use to do so.

The trial had already been decided long before it even started. Dumbledore had made sure of that.

And much to his shame, Harry now realized he’d underestimated Dumbledore, had not seen how conniving the old man could truly be, nor how cruel.

Harry refused to play by Dumbledore’s rules? Then Dumbledore was going to take away the only family Harry had left, just because he could. Of course, Dumbledore had no idea what was happening with Harry behind the scenes, and Harry couldn’t wait for the day that Dumbledore found out Harry had his own fucking country, but before any of that happened they had to get out of that courtroom alive and well.

“How did none of you see this coming?” Auntie Eustice hissed at the other family members around them. “Some spies you are!”

“I swear, Amelia Bones only got word from Fudge a trial was to be held yesterday morning, and since an owl had already been sent to Sirius I didn’t think I needed to rush to report it,” Bernadine said in a pleading tone.

“And I only saw Dumbledore hand over a few scrolls to Undersecretary Umbridge,” Henry quickly added. “Fudge decided to hold the trial, sent the owl to Sirius, and that’s all I saw.”

“Then how was this set up?” Auntie Eustice demanded.

“Last night,” Patroclus suggested in a monotone voice.

“When we were all together planning Sirius’ trial, Dumbledore and Fudge must have had a meeting,” Charlus agreed quietly.

Fleamont shook his head. “By Merlin’s baggy underpants. I cannot believe we missed that. It might cost Sirius his life.”

“Harry has a plan,” James said with full confidence as he glanced at his son. “Harry always has a plan. Have faith.”

Harry ignored his family’s voices and he tuned out some of the discussion that happened around the room between some Wizengamot members who had questions to ask, and some of the objections that Sirius shouted, because none of that mattered anymore. All they had to do was wait for the inevitable verdict.

Finally, Fudge yelled, “Who gathered here finds the defendant guilty on all charges?”

As predicted a good majority of the wands went up around the Wizengamot.

“No,” Sirius whimpered, while Harry squeezed his shoulder as hard as he could. Around them his family were gasping in shock and fury.

“Very well.” Fudge banged his hammer three times. “Then I hereby sentence Sirius Black to receive the dementor’s kiss.”

Before anything else happened an Auror approached Fudge from behind and whispered urgently in his ear.

Fudge looked rather surprised for a moment before he banged his hammer again. “I just got word there seems to be a problem with the supply of dementors today. I hereby sentence Sirius Black to be thrown through the Veil of Death immediately following this trial.”

“Harry,” Sirius looked up with wide, terrified eyes. “Harry, help!”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said loudly as he grabbed Sirius in a tight hug. “Trust me,” Harry whispered urgently before pulling back again and yelling, “I can’t watch you die, Sirius, I’m sorry.” And though it broke his heart to see his friend look so terrified and alone sitting there bound in chains, a cacophony of people talking and yelling around the room drowning out Sirius’ whimpers of despair, Harry walked backwards with strong steps.

“This was never a fair trial,” Harry yelled, thinking it would be a good idea to keep up the charade of grieving, outraged godson. “None of you wanted to find out the truth!”

“Now, now, Mr Potter,” Dumbledore said, unable to hide his satisfied smirk. “Justice was done here today.”

Harry ignored him, turned around and rushed out of the courtroom. He needed to find a private spot he could lock and he needed to find it fast. To his left he saw a sign for restrooms. Not ideal, but it would have to do. He quickly conjured an out of order sign which he stuck on the outside of the door and after a quick inspection to make sure he was alone, Harry used Santireen magic to lock the door, so anyone trying to break the spell would be in for a surprise. With a swipe of his thumb across the amulet, Harry dismissed his family because right now they were only a distraction, with their loud protesting noises about Sirius’ treatment.

“Get ready, V,” Harry said as he whipped his wand out and started drawing a circle on the tiled floor. It was a little cramped but Harry made it work, inscribing the runes he needed as fast as he could. He had no idea how long it would take for Fudge and Dumbledore to toss Sirius through the veil, but his godfather was in very real danger the second he entered the deathlands.

Because that was what Harry was betting everything on, that the Veil of Death somehow was a permanent portal to the deathlands.

And nowadays, Harry happened to be very good at walking the deathlands.

“Hurry, hurry!” V sat bobbing up and down on top of a stall, peering down at Harry’s artistry with a critical eye.

Thankfully, since Harry was experienced at walking the deathlands, he didn’t need the full ritual anymore to open a portal. V flew down onto his shoulder the moment Harry stepped into the circle, and right when Harry moved his hand around in a fluid motion, a small black portal started to grow.

It didn’t take more than five minutes for the portal to grow large enough for Harry and V to step through. Once Harry had been terrified to walk the deathlands, but nowadays it was second nature to him. Harry was a seasoned, experienced, fearless necromancer. Death held no threat to him, not anymore.

“Find him!” Harry called to V, who immediately took off, flying through the dark, bleak mirror world of the deathlands. The good thing was that any physical barriers in the real world, such as doors and walls, were incorporeal in the deathlands, and Harry could walk right through them. Around them small demons scattered away, out of Harry’s path. In the distance, terrifying wails sounded of larger creatures, but Harry paid them no mind.

The moment Sirius was tossed through the veil his life-clock started ticking. Any living thing that ended up in the deathlands had a very short expiration date. If they stayed too long they would morph into a demon of sorts, their souls forever trapped in the guise of the soul-seeking monsters that inhabited the deathlands.

“Out of my way.” Harry kicked a particularly stubborn little demon and sent if flying as he stormed into the direction of the Department of Mysteries.

“Find, find,” V cawed as he flew ahead, straight through the walls, in search of the veil.

Harry wasn’t sure where in the Department of Mysteries the veil was located, but he could sense souls, even in their home dimension, and there were a whole bunch gathered around the veil in the outside world. He used those as a beacon to lead him to where he needed to be.

“There, there,” V called, and in the distance, in what looked like a large arena in an even larger room, stood a brightly lit portal that connected the two realms.

“Who is fucking stupid enough to keep a portal open like that?” Harry muttered as he ran in that direction. “Don’t they know what might come through?”

Right when Harry reached the portal, Sirius fell through with a loud scream.

“Quiet!” Harry caught his godfather with strong arms. “Be quiet, Sirius. You don’t want the big demons to know you’re here. This way, quickly now.”

“Quick, quick,” V cawed as he flew in the direction of their portal in the bathroom, leading the way.

Harry had a firm arm wrapped around Sirius’s waist and hauled his godfather along, ignoring Sirius’ whimpers and stammering questions. Thankfully, nothing bigger than the small, annoying demons crossed their path and they made it to the bathroom portal in one piece. Harry pushed Sirius through it without ceremony, not even bothering to catch his godfather as he fell face first on the tiled floor. He needed to close the portal as quickly as he could.

“Safe, safe,” V crowed as he settled on top of the stall again.

“Almost,” Harry agreed, and the moment he had the portal completely closed he released a sigh of relief. That was done, now they still needed to escape the Ministry itself. “Here.” Harry plucked the invisibility cloak from his satchel and tossed it on top of Sirius, who sat up, looking around with a dazed expression.

“I need you to be quiet,” Harry said as he pulled Sirius to his feet and draped the invisibility cloak over him. “I need you to keep it together. Once we’re in Silgram you can completely lose your shit, Sirius, I promise, but for now you need to stay calm. Understood?”

Sirius was paler than the average corpse and stood shaking on his legs, but he managed to nod before Harry pulled the cloak over his head.

“Hold onto my back,” Harry said, turning his back to his godfather so he could grab a handful of Harry’s furry cloak. “Remus is waiting for us in the atrium. Stay calm, and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

Harry quickly charmed away any evidence of the ritual circle he’d used as best as he could, though a few black smudges remained on the floor, the runes having burned into the tiles once they were activated. But they weren’t recognizable anymore as more than magical stains, so Harry wasn’t worried.

“Okay, here we go. Hang tight, Sirius.” Harry pushed the door open while V landed on his shoulder again, and after making sure the corridor was empty, Harry hurried out of the bathroom and made his way to the stairs, Sirius hanging onto his back for dear life. The stairs were their safest bet, and they climbed the staircases as quickly as they could until they reached the atrium level. Harry looked around the door again to see if the coast was clear. The atrium was busy, as usual, but there was enough space for Harry to lead his invisible godfather through without anyone noticing.

Which is what they did, successfully, until about halfway through they ran into Fudge and the hideous pink witch.

“Ah, Mr Potter,” Fudge said with a big smile. “Such a pleasure to meet you.”

“Fuck right off!” Harry kept marching along, Sirius stumbling after him and V cackling with laughter on his shoulder. Both Fudge and the witch made outraged noises but Harry couldn’t care about that. Other people who looked like they wanted to approach him seemed to change their minds at the last moment considering Harry’s expression probably resembled a thundercloud about to let loose some serious lightning.

“Remus.” Harry grabbed the other man’s arm and hauled him towards the box.

“What?” Remus protested quietly. “What happened? Where’s Sirius?”

“Just come along, now!” Harry pulled Remus inside the glass box, making room so Sirius could slip in after him, before shutting the door with a bang. The box took them to the surface level and Harry counted every anxious second until they stepped out into the fresh air of the muggle street. Harry didn’t even bother finding an alley to apparate out of, he simply cast a wandless notice-me-not charm and grabbed Remus and Sirius by the shoulder, taking them along as he apparated to Silgram, landing right in front of his castle.

Sirius ripped the invisibility cloak off, threw it away and fell to the grass on his knees, screaming in pain and grief, pulling up clumps of dirt and grass as he yanked at the ground in impotent fury.

“What happened?” Remus asked, face pale and eyes as wide as Harry had ever seen them. “I heard they had executed him?”

“They did,” Harry said with a deep sigh, his body trembling slightly now that the adrenaline was wearing off. “Tossed him through the veil. Thankfully my bet paid off, and I was able to yank him out of it again.”

“Why?” Remus asked, as a few tears gathered in his eyes and dripped down his cheeks. “Was it all a trap?”

“Yep.” Harry rubbed his own arms, suddenly chilled. “Dumbledore orchestrated this, I’m sure of it.”

“Oh, to punish you,” Remus said in an understanding tone while hanging his head. “You defied him, and Sirius defied him as well by disappearing and throwing his lot in with you.”

“Yep.”

“That motherfucker!” Sirius yelled as he sat back on his arse in the grass, screaming up at the sky. “That fucking wanker! I gave him everything! I disowned my own family, my own blood, for that fucker’s cause and this is how he repays me?”

“Yep,” Harry said again, now noticing a large owl sitting on one of the flagpoles of his castle. The moment the bird noticed him looking, it came soaring down towards him. It was a beautiful eagle owl, slightly larger and darker than Poppy.

“I swear, I will never side with that old man again,” Sirius said, now sounding completely out of breath. “He fucking betrayed me the first time he threw me in Azkaban, and now he fucking betrays me to my death. He fucking knows I didn’t try to murder Snape and those kids! He knows!”

“Yep.” Harry accepted the letter the eagle owl dropped in his hands, opening it while listening to Sirius’ rant with half an ear. Remus sat down beside Sirius and threw his arm around Sirius’ shoulders, pulling him close to comfort him.

“I am done,” Sirius said, punching his fists into the grass, a grimace on his face. “I am completely fucking done, I swear it. From now on, I’m doing what I want to fucking well do, and I don’t care what anyone else expects of me. You can do whatever the fuck you want, too, Harry. Raise all my dead house-elves, side with Voldemort himself for all I care, as long as I never, ever need to have anything to do with that old goatfucker ever again!”

“Oh, good,” Harry said while folding the letter back up in his hands. “I’m glad you said that, because Voldemort is asking for a tour of our country.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

It was a glorious day.

In fact, it was such a glorious day that if it wouldn’t do irreparable damage to his reputation, Severus would have skipped all the way to Hogsmeade out of sheer, unadulterated joy. Severus wasn’t even sure when the last time he’d felt such joy was. Certainly at least a decade ago, probably more. Sometime when Lily had still been alive, perhaps.

Severus had to work very hard to keep a satisfied smile off his face as he marched towards Hogsmeade. Such a thing would ruin his reputation just as much as skipping would do.

Sirius Black was dead!

Severus had witnessed it himself just that morning in the back of the visitor section, how Black was given a sham of a trial and then unceremoniously tossed through the Veil like yesterday’s rubbish.

Closing his eyes, Severus inhaled a deep, deep breath to curb to urge to cackle in victory. Again, it was a Hogsmeade weekend and there were students around. Severus had a well-earned reputation to preserve.

But Black, his childhood tormenter, his would be murderer by werewolf, was well and truly dead! And Severus even had a hand in it. Albeit, a very small hand in the form of a signature Dumbledore told him to put on a scroll late last night. Severus had glanced over the scroll and seen that it was a completely false account of his encounter with Black and those three nosy students who firmly believed the world revolved around them that took place at the end of the last schoolyear. Severus hadn’t cared one bit it was a false testimony and he’d signed it without pause. He’d done far worse for his previous master than falsify a court document, after all.

It was such a glorious day.

So glorious, that Dumbledore even told him to take the afternoon off. Severus’ current Master was well and truly chuffed about having gotten rid of Sirius Black, though why, Severus wasn’t entirely sure. If he had to take a guess, it was to do with Potter’s spawn, who seemed to have disappeared these past two weeks, much to Severus’ pleasure. But much like his father, Potter’s spawn was arrogant and believed he didn’t have to follow the headmaster’s commands.

What a silly mistake to make. Potter was needed in the fight against the Dark Lord, and Dumbledore knew that. Potter may be thinking himself better than the rest of them, but Severus had learned long ago that what Dumbledore wanted, Dumbledore got. And if someone tried to actively work against that, they’d soon find themselves wishing they hadn’t.

Case in point, Potter refused to play along with Dumbledore, Potter lost his godfather. It was as simple as that.

Severus snorted. What did it matter in the end why Black had been killed? Severus despised the man more than anyone else in the entire world (and Severus despised most people, so that was saying something), and he was really, truly happy the cur was dead for good.

It couldn’t have happened to a more deserving criminal.

And thus, to celebrate the demise of Severus’ tormentor, Severus decided to get well and truly drunk, and nothing was going to ruin this glorious day. Rosmerta had a bottle of fire-whiskey with his name on it, she just didn’t know it yet.

But right before Severus could enter the Three Broomsticks, he heard a clunking noise behind him.

“Snape!” Moody barked.

Severus sighed deeply, squared his shoulders and turned around to see the despicable Auror gesture at him.

“Follow me.” Moody limped towards a nearby alley, waving a scroll for Severus to see. “Dumbledore’s orders.”

Severus wasn’t even surprised Dumbledore found a way to ruin Severus’ afternoon off at the last moment. Dumbledore might act like a nicer, more reasonable Master than the Dark Lord, but in many ways he could be just as cruel.

“Here,” Moody said as Severus stopped in front of him in the alley. The moment Severus touched the scroll, Moody said, “Azkaban!”

A familiar pull yanked on Severus’ body, transporting him to where Severus had no idea. For a few very anxious seconds Severus worried that lunatic Auror had just sent him to the wizarding prison, but that didn’t seem to be the case the moment they landed inside a large entrance hall. By the looks of the unmoving portraits hanging over a grand staircase, this was a muggle dwelling, but Severus had no idea whose it could be.

That was, until the wave of unmistakable magic crashed over him.

Oh, fuck.

The Dark Lord was back.

“This way,” Moody said with a satisfied smirk, and Severus could not wrap his head around the idea that Alastor Moody, famed and feared Death-Eater hunter, would ever side with the Dark Lord, yet here he was.

“Thank you,” the Dark Lord said with a nod at Moody, who simply nodded back and then limped away again, leaving Severus standing just inside the doorway of a classically furnished sitting room.

“Ah, Severus,” said the man who looked nothing like the Dark Lord that Severus remembered. The Dark Lord had been misshapen, more monster than man, but this wizard was tall and handsome and looked utterly human. “Come closer.”

Severus went, having learned long ago never to keep the Dark Lord waiting. While his stomach churned with fear and his heartbeat picked up speed, Severus kept his back straight while he crossed the room. He fell down on his knees once he reached the Dark Lord and kissed the hem of his black robes. “My Lord, let me tell you how overjoyed I am to see you alive and well.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” the Dark Lord said, stepping back from Severus and seating himself in an opulent leather chair. “Sit down, Severus.”

Slowly getting to his feet, keeping his head down, Severus backed up until he encountered a sofa with a cheerful floral print, and he sank down in it, still barely meeting the Dark Lord’s eyes. This was an absolute disaster. Severus was in no way prepared to deal with the Dark Lord. Dumbledore had been making noise that the Dark Lord had returned for a while now, ever since the Philosopher’s Stone went missing. Severus had believed the headmaster, at least for a while, but when a summons from the Dark Lord never happened, Severus eventually concluded that Dumbledore had been wrong and the Dark Lord was still only seeking for a way to regain a body.

Oh, how wrong Severus had been. Here sat a wizard who looked in his prime, and whose magic felt much the same.

“And how has life treated you while you lived comfortably in Dumbledore’s lap?” the Dark Lord asked with a knowing glint in his eyes. Severus was prepared to tell the whole list of lies he’d come up with years ago to explain away his life since the Dark Lord’s downfall, but he was never given a chance to do so. “It matters not, my old friend. From now on, we will come up with… tighter bonds to ensure your loyalty to the cause.” The Dark Lord looked over his shoulder towards an opened door. “Quirrell! Come here for a moment.”

Quirrell, looking whole and hale came strolling through the door and gave the Dark Lord a deep nod of respect.

“Quirinius will be our bonder,” the Dark Lord said while he pulled out his wand. “A little Unbreakable Vow will go a long way in ensuring you won’t go spilling all of my secrets at Dumbledore’s feet.”

Severus swallowed, trying desperately to come up with a reason, any reason, why an Unbreakable Vow was a bad idea.

“And afterwards,” the Dark Lord said while he pushed himself up from his chair. “Afterwards, Severus, you are going to give me every single memory of Harry Potter that you have.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Severus mumbled, staring at the Dark Lord’s outstretched hand. He was trapped, and he knew it. An Unbreakable Vow would mean he could probably never share a single shred of information with Dumbledore ever again, which meant that his days as a spy were truly over. Severus didn’t want to know what Dumbledore would do to him once he figured out his precious spy was useless.

Severus squeezed his eyes shut as he grabbed hold of the Dark Lord’s hand. This was the worst day of his life.

000000000000000000000

“This is what you’re wearing?” Remus asked.

Harry descended the castle’s main staircase, dressed as he always was, in a linen shirt and pants, high leather boots, and a leather vest, and he gave Remus and Sirius a curious look. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Well,” Remus said, and only now Harry noticed that both he and Sirius were wearing rather severe black robes. “It’s not everyday that you’re receiving a Dark Lord, and you look rather…”

“You look like a muggle from the middle-ages, is what Moony’s trying to say,” Sirius said with an amused grin.

Harry reached the bottom of the stairs and looked himself over again. “I’m clean. I even washed my hair and everything.” And it had taken a long time the previous night in the bathtub, to get all the beads and finicky trinkets out, undo the random braids and listen to V tell him over and over again to shave. Harry hadn’t, but he had washed and combed his beard. And now he looked as put together as he was ever going to be.

“If Voldemort doesn’t like it, he can go visit another magical island for all I care.” And with a shrug, Harry reached for his fur cloak and pulled that on as well. There, he was ready to meet his former enemy.

It had taken surprisingly little convincing to get Remus and Sirius on board with a visit from Voldemort, though they did both insist on being there. Harry didn’t mind, could use the support, probably. Then again, Keket was sitting on the ceiling while keeping a careful eye on him, so Harry had all the backup he’d ever need. If Voldemort thought he could attack Harry in his own castle, he’d be in for a very toothy surprise.

Harry had answered Voldemort’s very polite letter with a note of confirmation, and he’d added an empty wine bottle he’d turned into a portkey, which would activate at ten in the morning and which would drop Voldemort in front of his castle.

“Let’s wait outside,” Harry said, and he stepped into the cold air, his friends following him to stand on either side of him while V came flying over to land on Harry’s shoulder. Harry hadn’t yet told his family about Voldemort’s letter and Harry’s invitation, not quite sure how to explain it to his parents without them freaking out about their son entertaining their murderer. Harry figured it would probably be better to see how a meeting between them actually went before involving his family.

Who knew? Voldemort might act aggressively, in which case Harry would do away with him entirely, or he might want an official truce, which Harry would be happy to grand him if the conditions were right.

Voldemort had already promised Harry to share his personal anti-phoenix wards in exchange for a meeting and a tour, for with Harry was truly grateful.

“Any minute now,” Remus whispered while Sirius swallowed audibly.

“Just don’t do anything stupid, either of you,” Harry felt compelled to point out. “Just follow my lead. If everything really goes to shit, Keket will take him out, don’t worry.”

Keket, who had migrated to the outside wall, rumbled in agreement.

At ten o’clock sharp the portkey activated and two men appeared on Harry’s lawn, right in front of them, holding an empty wine bottle.

Harry stared.

Auntie Eustice hadn’t been lying when she said Voldemort was a tall and handsome man. He was tall, and he was handsome, very much so. He was dressed in black robes, with a thick black cloak over them.

Beside Voldemort stood Barty Jr, without his Moody visage this time, looking around curiously.

“Potter,” Voldemort said with a regal nod while he dropped the bottle to the grass.

“Yeah, nobody calls me that. I really don’t respond to it. Harry will do,” Harry said while returning the nod. “Welcome to Silgram.” Then he added a short nod in Barty’s direction. “Nice to finally meet you while you’re wearing your own face, Barty.”

“What,” Barty stammered, looking from Voldemort to Harry and back. “How?” When no answer was forthcoming, Barty blew out a frustrated breath.

V flapped his wings as he stared at Voldemort with a tilt of his head, but surprisingly he kept his beak shut. Harry wondered if Voldemort even felt like his own soul anymore to V, since they’d been separated for well over a century, at least from V’s perspective.

“I see you have made a full recovery of your recent run-in with death,” Voldemort said while he addressed Sirius. “Let me guess, you used a muggle under the imperius who you’d fed Polyjuice potion?”

“Huh,” Harry said thoughtfully. “That would have been a good option, but no, that was really Sirius.”

“How is that possible?” Voldemort said while he furrowed his brows. “I saw for myself how they threw you through the veil, Black.”

“Yeah, they did, but I pulled him out again.” Harry waved a careless hand around. “You’ve got only a short window to do so, but if you can get a person out quickly enough they’ll live.” And then Harry thought about what Voldemort had just said and something occurred to him. “You were there, you said. You were the guy with the grey beard beside Moody, weren’t you. Polyjuice potion, then.” Harry gave Voldemort a knowing smile.

“Indeed. I wouldn’t miss one of your public performances for the world, Harry.”

Somehow the way Voldemort said his name sent a small shiver down Harry’s back. How curious.

“Look, the only reason you’re here is because Harry here is as dark as they come, and because I’m done playing by the Ministry’s rules,” Sirius said, taking a step or two towards Voldemort. “I don’t care anymore what you two get up to from now on. But I have one question I’d like answered.”

“If I have the answer I’ll give it to you,” Voldemort said, looking rather amused by Sirius’ little monologue.

“What happened to my brother Regulus?” Sirius’ voice was steady as he asked the question but his eyes shone with a hidden grief.

“Ah,” Voldemort nodded a few times. “I honestly have no idea.” When Sirius looked like he was about to protest, Voldemort held up a hand to silence him. “I truly don’t, Black. Regulus was a loyal follower, one I had no personal issues with. One day he disappeared, and I looked for him, asked my followers what they knew, but no one had any idea what happened to him. I’m truly sorry to say it remains a mystery to this day.”

Sirius tightened his jaws and shook his head in clear frustration.

“The Ministry might have done away with him,” Barty suggested softly, almost apologetically. “Merlin knows what some of those Aurors got up to when dealing with us. Regulus was my friend. I looked for him, Black, and I never found a thing.”

Sighing, Sirius nodded but didn’t say anything.

Harry pursed his lips for a moment. He had no idea Sirius was wondering what had happened with his brother. Sirius had certainly never mentioned it before. Perhaps seeing Voldemort in the flesh jolted Sirius’ memory or something, or awakened long repressed grief. Because if Sirius wanted to talk to a dead person, any dead person, all he had to do was ask Harry. Of course, Harry wasn’t about to give away all his secrets in front of his maybe-enemy, so he kept his mouth shut for now but he’d bring it up with his godfather later.

For now, it was time to get away from such heavy subjects, Harry decided. “You came for a tour, right? So let’s take a walk.”

“By all means.” Voldemort gestured at Harry to lead the way and he soon fell into step with him. Harry was quite tall himself, but Voldemort still almost had a foot on him. “I’m curious what kind of magic you’ve used to create this island,” Voldemort said as Harry led them across the meadows in the direction of Black Manor, while Barty, Sirius and Remus trailed after them, with Keket bringing up the rear.

“Transfiguration, for the most part, combined with duplication,” Harry said, grinning when he saw Voldemort’s disbelieving expression. “For the bedrock, at least.”

“It cannot be that simple,” Voldemort said, almost to himself.

“Why not?” Harry asked with a cheeky smile. “The ocean is full of water. All you have to do is transfigure some of that into rock.”

“But the sheer volume,” Voldemort mused and then he looked down at Harry with narrowed eyes. “It would take a very powerful wizard to transfigure this much mass in such a short time.”

“I guess,” Harry said, knowing full well he was very powerful but it seemed rude to rub that in someone else’s face.

“How far out into the sea is the island now?” Barty asked, walking a little faster to address Harry personally.

“I started out with about 25 kilometres, but Remus told me to add another 50, so right now about 75 kilometres,” Harry said as he glanced across his shoulder at Barty.

“That’s not enough,” Barty said with a frown.

“What do you mean?” Remus asked. “It’s well out of the territorial waters of both Ireland and the UK.”

“Ah, yes,” Barty said, clearly warming up to the subject. “I’ve briefly researched this since learning Harry made his own island. The Exclusive Economic Zone for any country extends out 200 nautical miles, which is roughly 370 kilometres. Both the muggle UN and the wizarding ICW have agreed on the Law of the Sea, which means that any artificial island that forms in the Exclusive Economic Zone of any country automatically belongs to that country.”

“Oh bugger,” Harry said while a chill ran down his back.

“So if the British Ministry knew about the island, they could claim it?” Remus asked while Barty nodded vigorously.

“You’d want to make an island at least 200 nautical miles, so 370 kilometres away from any established country, muggle or magical,” Barty finished with a satisfied nod.

“Ravenclaw?” Harry guessed while glancing up at Voldemort, who answered him with a nod and a knowing smile. “All right, we’ll move the island again and make sure we’re 400 kilometres away from the coast.”

“Move?” Voldemort asked.

“Again?” Barty gave Harry a wide-eyed look.

“Yeah, it’s simple enough, just takes some time. I use runes to turn the whole island into a moving ship, basically. It works fine.” Harry started walking again once he realized they’d all stopped.

Voldemort released a small little sigh, seemingly deciding to carefully choose his conversational battles with his once enemy and to keep quiet for now.

“Wait, is that Black Manor?” Barty asked in astonishment when they spotted Sirius’ home in the distance. “How is that here?”

“Yep, I brought it here,” Harry said, thoroughly entertained by everyone’s reactions. You’d think he was giving a tour to a couple of muggles with the way they reacted to the kinds of magic Harry used all the time. “I used dimensional magic.”

“Dimensional magic?” Barty threw his head back and released a sound of sheer frustration. “That’s not even a thing!”

Remus gave Barty a comforting pat on the shoulder. “It’s best not to think about it too closely, I find.”

“But…but…” Barty gave Remus a hopeless look while Harry kept walking.

“You transported the whole grounds here as well?” Voldemort said while he gestured at the mature woodland behind the Manor. “All the other trees we’ve seen so far are no more than a foot high.”

“Yep, once you know the magic it’s really not difficult.”

“And you could transport any house and grounds here?” Voldemort had a shrewd look on his face.

Harry nodded. “As long as I have access to the wards, yeah, that’s no problem.”

“That is certainly going to make it easier to convince certain families to move here, knowing that they can bring their ancestral homes with them,” Voldemort said and then he gave Harry a questioning look. “You do want to invite more people to live here, don’t you?”

“Of course!” Harry gestured at the mountain in the distance. “I’m still decorating the island, get the ecosystem settled. I made that mountain, added a river, got the layer of topsoil seeded with life. I was planning on collecting some hedgehogs and other small critters from Britain soon, to start populating the island with.”

“You already have some cows,” Voldemort observed as they spotted the fold of Scottish Highland cattle grazing in the distance.

“Coos,” Harry corrected him with a grin. “They’re called coos, don’t ask me why.”

Voldemort shook his head and then turned to look at Harry. “Talking about names. You’ve named this island Silgram?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s an absurd name.”

Harry felt honestly a little insulted and he narrowed his eyes at Voldemort. “I’ll have you know it means ‘my own land’ in Santireen.”

“Well, that’s just wonderful,” Voldemort said with an amused chuckle. “There is exactly one person in this whole world who speaks Santireen and that’s you, Harry. To the rest of us it’s an utterly absurd name.”

“All names are absurd,” Harry argued with wild gestures of his hand as he stepped up to Voldemort. “England is an absurd name. Land of Engs. What does that even mean?”

“Actually…” Barty started.

Harry whipped around to glare at him. “No!”

“Harry,” Voldemort said, mouth pursed tightly but dark eyes shining with clear humour. “What I’m saying is that perhaps you should name this land something that reflects our heritage, and our magical pride.”

“I like Silgram,” Harry argued, prepared to die on that particular vocabulary hill.

“How about…” Voldemort narrowed his eyes and leaned a little closer to Harry. “Magica.”

“Ooooh.” Harry’s heart skipped a beat while he stared into Voldemort’s brown eyes. “That’s sexy.”

Voldemort snorted. “That is not what I was going for.”

“I mean, it’s got magical pride and all that,” Harry said, unable to hold back a grin. “But it’s also a very sexy name.”

“Should we give them some time alone or something?” Sirius whispered loudly to Remus.

“It is a name that reflects the purpose of this land,” Voldemort argued right back at Harry, standing almost nose to nose with him. Harry’s stomach was doing very strange flips, but he ignored those because he was having far too much fun with his once enemy.

“Sure. I like it. Magica it is from now on.”

Voldemort’s resulting smirk was entirely self-satisfied. “Very well, that’s settled. Now for the politics.”

“What politics?” Harry asked a little wearily.

“International politics,” Voldemort said in a tone that made it sound like a challenge.

Harry wrinkled his nose. “Oh, those politics.”

Voldemort chuckled. “Exactly. You obviously have no desire to enter the international political stage. You’d much rather remain here, playing with your hedgehogs.”

“You’re not wrong,” Harry was forced to admit. He did not want to have to play nice with dozens of other countries. He’d never needed to in the past, after all. If a country did something to piss Harry off enough, he dealt with it, but otherwise he was happy to ignore them.

“You need an ambassador,” Voldemort pointed out and then waved a hand down his own body. “I’m rather good at politics, if I do say so myself.”

“You’re good at killing people until you get your way, is what you mean,” Sirius said, as if he just couldn’t help himself. Even when Voldemort turned to stare at him, Sirius only gave him a defiant glare back.

Voldemort sighed and deflated a little. “I must confess that in the past I’ve gone about accomplishing my goals with far too much violence. However, I have changed my ways.” Voldemort gave Harry a look that could only be described as admiring. “Harry has given us magical users our own home, where we can practice all the magic we want to. There is no more need for violence and I’d be honoured to become Magica’s international ambassador. If you’ll have me, of course.”

“Hmm.” Harry offered Voldemort an amused smile while he mulled over that idea. “It’s certainly an intriguing offer, and I’d happily discuss the details for that with you at some point.”

“Excellent.” Voldemort continued walking and Harry fell into step with him.

“You couldn’t fulfil such a role as yourself, though,” Harry was quick to point out after he gave the whole thing some thought.

“Obviously I’d take on a new identity. Someone related to myself. Perhaps an illegitimate son.” Voldemort frowned in a way that meant he was seriously considering that option. “Marvolo Gaunt.”

“What the fuck is a Marvolo?” Harry asked before he could stop himself.

The insulted look Voldemort gave him in return was almost funny, and at once V started cackling with laughter on Harry’s shoulder. He flapped his wings, but he cackled so hard he couldn’t stop himself from falling right off Harry’s shoulder, landing on the grass in a loudly cackling ball of feathers.

“Marvolo is my name,” Voldemort said, just a little snootily.

Before Harry could reply, V, still lying on his back, wings spread, skinny legs sticking up, crowed, “Your name is Tom!” And then he started cackling again.

Voldemort had his wand in his hand in a second, but Harry quickly stepped in front of V, holding up a placating hand. “You don’t want to hurt him, trust me. He’s a rude chatterbox, but I’m rather attached to him.”

“Control your bird,” Voldemort snapped, before sliding his wand back up his sleeve. “Anyway, my birthname is Tom Marvolo Riddle. I despise the name Tom and therefore I would opt to use Marvolo instead when impersonating a close relative.”

“Okay,” Harry said with a nod, glad to see the situation calmed down again. V chattered a little as he flopped back the right side up and flapped his wings fast so he could fly back up to Harry’s shoulder. “Marvolo Gaunt works for me.”

“I’m delighted, truly,” Voldemort said in a droll voice as they continued walking. “Have you considered what sort of people you’re going to invite to live in Magica?”

“What sort of people?” Harry said with a confused frown. “Magical people, of course.”

“Ah, yes,” Voldemort said delicately while he looked at Harry as though he was addressing a particularly dumb child. “But not all magical people are created equal.”

“I don’t get it.”

Voldemort sighed in a way that signalled he might be running out of patience soon. “Magical people with magical ancestry are the sort of people we should aspire to invite here.”

“All magical people are welcome here,” Harry said, still unsure what Voldemort was trying to say. “I don’t care who their parents are.”

“That is a very unwise stance to take, Harry.” Voldemort stepped a little closer to Harry but Harry didn’t back down an inch.

“Barty, would you like some tea?” Remus asked as he slowly backed away.

“I’d love some,” Barty replied, also walking backwards.

“The Manor is that way,” Sirius said, quickly turning around and hurrying away. “You can tell me how you escaped Azkaban.”

“Sure.” Barty was also almost running by now. “I’ll trade you for your escape story.”

“It’s a deal.”

And just like that, Harry and Voldemort were left alone, with only V and Keket left for company.

“I like my stance in my own country just fine,” Harry said, not at all intimidated by the Dark Lord getting into his personal space. “All magical people are welcome here, no matter where they come from. That is how it’s always been, that’s how it will always be in the future.”

“Not many people have challenged me to my face and lived to tell the tale, Harry.” Voldemort’s lips curved up in a sinister grin, showing far too many teeth.

“Let me tell you about the Dark Lord of the prophecy,” Harry said conversationally, as if he didn’t have an increasingly angry Dark Lord breathing in his face. “His name was Rylan. Charming fellow, much more powerful than you could ever hope to be.”

“I doubt that,” Voldemort whispered.

“I know that,” Harry said with conviction. “Rylan tried to dominate me, tried to turn me into his personal little slave.” Harry’s face was utterly calm as he spoke, since those old memories no longer had any effect on him. “I killed him when I was 17.”

A deep rumbling sound came from behind them.

With a chuckle, Harry gestured at the beast seated in the grass. “Well, Keket helped.”

Keket licked her lips with her blue tongue and showed far too many sharp, silver teeth.

“The point is,” Harry continued, still sounding utterly pleasant, not even bothering to narrow his eyes. “If you’ve come here today with the intention to turn me into your servant, you need to leave now, Voldemort, because if you don’t it will be the last thing you ever do.” Harry paused for a moment, never breaking eye contact with the Dark Lord. “However, if you truly want to see Magica become a thriving country where all magic is legal and all magical people are welcome, I would be happy to have you onboard, because I can recognize my own limitations and I’m beginning to see that you’d be a very useful addition to the team.” Harry smiled at Voldemort and briefly raised his hands. “The choice is yours.”

Voldemort remained quiet for a few long moments while he gazed into Harry’s eyes. Harry felt a very soft brush of Legilimency but he easily blocked it with his natural Occlumency shields and Voldemort didn’t try again.

“There is no way that you are only 28 years old,” Voldemort finally said as he took a step backwards.

“I never said I was,” Harry replied with a careless shrug. “People just assumed that when I told them I was at least twice as old as I should be.”

Voldemort threw his head back and laughed, and it was a surprisingly warm and deep sound, which made Harry’s stomach flip. “It’s going to be a real challenge to figure you out, I believe. Very well, I accept your conditions as you’ve set them. I’ll become Magica’s international ambassador, and you can invite whatever magical people you want to come live here.”

“Eventually,” Harry said with humour in his voice. “First I’ve got hedgehogs to collect.”

“Naturally, the hedgehogs come first,” Voldemort conceded with a nod. He gestured at Harry to join him as they walked back to Black Manor. “Tell me how you’re planning to create the layout of the island, what you’re planning for the infrastructure.”

And Harry did as they walked side by side across the meadows, Keket loping around them while V took to the sky, stretching his wings as he peered down at them.

“Ah, you’re both still alive,” Remus said with a relieved smile as he opened the door for them. “We’ve got tea ready in the sitting room.”

Harry and Voldemort sat down together on the only empty sofa that was left while Remus poured them tea.

“How soon are you going to start constructing the villages?” Remus asked as he sat down and picked up his own cup of tea. “I just got a few replies to letters I’d sent out. There are several werewolves who are very interested in coming to live here.”

“That’s great!” Harry beamed at Remus, happy to know they had potential new citizens lining up. “I can probably start building houses in the next few days.” Then Harry frowned when he remembered something rather important. “Crap, that stupid tournament is also coming up. The first task is in less than two weeks and I haven’t a clue what it is.”

“Oh.” Barty sat up and gave Harry a wide smile. “I can help you with that, since I know what’s coming.”

“So what is coming?” Harry asked, just a little impatiently.

Barty gave Harry a worried look. “Dragons.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

Harry frowned. “I’ve never even seen a dragon.” He’d heard of them plenty, from stories his family members told him over the years, of course, but he had no idea what they actually looked like.

“Dilby!” Sirius yelled, putting his cup of tea down on the table. “Bring us all the books about dragons from the library!”

It took a few moments, but then Dilby popped into the room, balancing a few huge stacks of books in his spindly arms, which Sirius and Remus managed to catch before they toppled over.

Before long Harry had a large book in his lap, filled with moving pictures of huge, fire-breathing monsters. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to put a bunch of kids in front of those things, honestly?

“There were no dragons in Santika?” Voldemort asked quietly as he looked from Harry’s face back to the book his Harry’s lap.

“No. There weren’t any magical creatures there, not like you have here, at any rate.” That reminded Harry he needed to figure out which magical plants and animals he wanted to add to the island, on top of the hedgehogs and co. Perhaps he could give his young assistants some more research to do.

“Dragons are hard to fight with magic,” Barty said in his usual enthusiastic tone. “But their eyes pose a weakness. There are plenty of curses that would let you magically gauge out their eyes.”

“Or you could give it conjunctivitis with a charm,” Remus said pleasantly, which caused Sirius to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, Moony, let’s piss the dragon off some more by giving it itchy eyes.”

“The Killing Curse is only illegal to use on human beings,” Voldemort pointed out and when everyone gave him disbelieving looks, he added, “Just in case things go wrong.”

They all sipped their tea and argued for a good half hour on how to combat a dragon in a way that let you steal a golden egg from their nest, as Barty explained was the ultimate goal. By the time their tea was finished, Harry had plenty of ideas on how he could survive the task, at the very least. Harry wasn’t concerned about winning anything, since he didn’t even want to be a part of the tournament in the first place. He just wanted to survive the whole thing with both his body and his magic intact.

“There is one last thing I would ask of you,” Voldemort said politely while he placed his empty cup on the coffee table. When Harry nodded in reply, he asked, “Could I see the prophecy orb?”

“Sure.” Harry got up and gestured for Voldemort to do the same. “It’s in my library.”

“Library?” Barty shot up from his chair is if someone had just ignited a magical firecracker under his arse.

“Follow me,” Harry said with a grin, and he led the whole procession out of Black Manor and towards his castle.

As they were walking, Harry remembered what Remus had told him earlier. “If your werewolf friends are ready to move here, I can have houses ready for them in a few days.”

“You would just give them houses?” Barty asked, with a curious frown. “For free?”

“I did so at first in Sildar, the magical society I built in Santika,” Harry said while everyone seemed eager to hear his explanation. “But that caused some strife and jealousy eventually, so we came up with a housing program for anyone who wanted to move to the island. Any new citizen could get a magically constructed house for free if they signed a contract that they would live in it themselves for at least five years. After those five years, if they sold the house or rented it out, half of the earnings would go to Sildar’s government and they could keep the other half. If they lived in the house for a continuous fifteen years, however, they then owned the house outright and they could keep any earnings from a potential sale.”

“That seems more than fair,” Remus said, looking very pleased by this development. “It means anyone can move here, no matter their economic status.”

“Yeah, that’s why we came up with a construction like that,” Harry agreed.

“And how did you decide who gets what house? Or rather, who gets lots of land, like the grounds around Black Manor?” Barty asked, still with a thoughtful frown.

“We had simple rules for that. All houses we built had some land around them, standard was half an acre or an acre,” Harry said, and gestured around them, towards the ocean that was now visible. “When you live on an island, space is limited, especially for agriculture. We tried to be as self-sufficient as possible, so we encouraged people to grow some of their own food, plant fruit and nut trees around their homes, keep some chickens, maybe a few ducks or geese, and if they wanted, raise a pig or two for their families. Having land also meant people could build their own workshops or other outbuildings and work from home in all manner of trades and crafts that were needed.”

Harry looked over his shoulder and gave Sirius a grin. “I forgot to tell you, but people who own more than an acre of land are obligated to produce food for not just themselves, but also the rest of society.”

Sirius blinked as he looked at Harry in confusion. “Er… I’m no farmer, Harry.”

“You don’t have to be. You can fence off all that grassland you have and graze sheep or cattle. Put some pigs in those woods. That’s enough.” Harry chuckled at Sirius’ apprehensive expression. “Besides, you’ve got house-elves, you can put them to work growing crops. It’s not like you’d have to sow and harvest anything yourself.”

“Yeah, alright,” Sirius conceded. “I suppose I could keep some sheep eventually.”

“But they’d be able to sell that produce, right?” Barty asked, looking like he was doing lots and lots of calculations in his head. “They wouldn’t have to give anything away for free?”

“Of course, they can earn money from the sale of whatever they grow. It’s just that on an island you cannot waste acres and acres of land on a flower garden or a manicured lawn. Space like that needs to be put to use in food production. If people don’t feel like putting any effort into that, they won’t get the land, simple as that.” Harry was pleased to see that Barty was nodding along with his reasoning. It had always worked well in Sildar, and Harry was sure it would work equally well in Magica.

“As long as the landowners don’t have to get their own hands dirty and can use house-elves, I don’t see how this will be a problem for the magical families who will be requesting larger pieces of land,” Voldemort said, and Harry was happy to see he, too, seemed perfectly alright with Harry’s plans for land distribution.

They reached the castle and Harry led his guests straight to the library.

Barty’s mouth dropped open as he walked slowly to the middle of the enormous hall and looked around while craning his head left and right. Even Voldemort’s eyes widened as he took in the many, many books in Harry’s collection.

“You’re welcome to read anything you like,” Harry offered, because he recognized two bibliophiles when he saw them.

“No, no,” V cawed in a tone that was far too amused while he flew from Harry’s shoulder to his perch beside Harry’s large desk in front of the window.

“Yes, they’re allowed,” Harry said, frowning at this companion. Since when did V care who read their fucking books.

“No, no,” V cawed again, head bobbing up and own. “Can’t read, can’t read.”

Only then did Harry realize what V was saying and he turned to look at Voldemort and Barty with an utmost apologetic look on his face. “Fuck, I forgot. V’s right. You can’t read these books.”

“Oh come on,” Barty said in a pleading tone, giving Harry what could only be described as puppy-dog eyes. “What’s in these books that’s so bad we’re not allowed to read them?”

Chuckling, Harry shook his head. “Nothing, Barty. You’re allowed to read them, you just can’t.”

“Ah, fuck,” Voldemort breathed, apparently having cottoned on to the problem before them. “They’re in Santireen.”

“What?” Barty asked, face paling as he turned on the spot, looking at the thousands and thousands of books he literally couldn’t read. “WHAT?”

“Igor!” Harry yelled in the direction of the door. “Bring us wine for five!”

“Eurgh!”

“Here, sit down.” Remus grabbed the closest chair and pushed Barty towards it, since the poor man stood swaying on his feet in shock.

Igor came shuffling into the library, large tray in his hands.

“Is that an inferius?” Voldemort asked, apparently having recovered from the shock of realizing there were thousands of books around him he couldn’t read. Barty was still hyperventilating.

“That’s Igor. He’s my butler.” Harry accepted the tray from Igor’s hands, placed it on a nearby table and poured five glasses of red wine. When Voldemort didn’t reply, Harry looked at him over his shoulder.

Voldemort stood with his head bowed while he pinched the bridge of his nose, slowly shaking his head. “You have an inferius for a butler.”

“He’s dead useful,” Harry said, feeling a little defensive. He all but thrust a glass of wine in Voldemort’s hands. “I find that people always underestimate how useful inferi can be.”

“I know how useful they can be,” Voldemort countered quickly, giving Harry a snooty look. “I’ve made plenty of them myself.”

“Oh?” Harry perked up as he sipped his wine. “What did you use them for?”

“Security, mostly.” Voldemort tilted his head while he seemed lost in thought. “Sometimes I used them in battle, mostly for the intimidation factor.”

“Ah, yeah,” Harry agreed with a knowing smile. “I once raised a whole army of inferi and sent them to fight a battle against this persistent warlord who wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Harry chuckled at the memory. “Half of that warlord’s troops dropped their weapons and ran screaming for the hills when they saw thousands of dead bodies walking towards them. And the rest, who were stupid enough to fight, were easily dealt with.”

Voldemort was giving Harry a very peculiar look, one Harry couldn’t quite place, but his brown eyes were shining, while his lips twitched a little. “What did you do with them afterwards?”

“Put them back to rest. They’d done what I needed them for.” Harry perked up again and toasted Voldemort with his glass. “Which reminds me, I’m going to turn some of Sirius’ dead house-elves into inferi. Have you ever tried that?”

Voldemort blinked, looking like such an idea had never even occurred to him. “That is… an interesting idea.”

“Think about it,” Harry said, stepping a little closer to Voldemort, beyond chuffed he’d found someone he could talk inferi shop with without that person freaking the fuck out. “They’re magical creatures. As inferi, I could use them to farm the land, or to help keep public spaces clean, things like that.”

Voldemort was nodding along with Harry’s suggestions. “I’d be more than happy to be there when you try such a feat.”

“Sure!”

“But for now… the prophecy orb, if you please.” Voldemort offered Harry a sage nod, and Harry gestured at him to move to a nearby table that was still covered with books and opened maps.

“Here is it.” Harry picked up the darkened orb and handed it to Voldemort.

Raising the orb up to his face, Voldemort took his time examining it as he moved it around with his long fingers. He even got out his wand and waved that over the orb a few times while his whole face was crinkled in concentration.

Finally, Voldemort lowered the orb again and placed it back on the table, his face an unreadable mask. “It is a genuine prophecy orb, and it has been fulfilled.”

“Yep.” Harry took a big gulp of his glass of wine.

“The old man had it wrong from the very beginning,” Voldemort mused, still staring down at the orb.

“Yep,” Harry said again, also looking at the orb. “And he still believes it’s about you and me.”

“You haven’t told him it’s been fulfilled?” Voldemort asked in genuine surprise, finally looking at Harry.

“Nope.” Harry couldn’t hold back a grin. “I thought it would be funny if Dumbledore spends a lot of his time the next few months trying to get me to act on a prophecy that’s already been fulfilled.”

Voldemort released a rather undignified snort and then he raised his glass of wine in a salute to Harry. At once, Harry clinked his own glass against it while they shared an utterly amused smile.

“Harry.” Barty breathed like he’d just ran all around the island. “Harry, I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but could you please teach me how to speak Santireen?”

“I can do better than that.” With a wave of his hand, Harry summoned two books, which he handed to Barty. “An English-Santireen dictionary, and a grammar guide. I taught several people on Sildar to speak English, and it became the unofficial language of the country, since no one outside the island spoke it and it allowed us to keep certain conversations private even in public settings on the mainland.”

“Bless you,” Barty said, hugging both books to his chest. “Bless you, laddie.”

“I don’t suppose…” Voldemort said, but before he could finish his sentence, Harry waved his hand around and two more books came flying, which he handed to Voldemort. “My thanks, Harry.”

“Sure. We could make Santireen the unofficial language of Magica, have it be a way to keep correspondence private and such,” Harry suggested.

“I think that’s a marvellous idea,” Remus said. “We could even keep the name Silgram as the Santireen name for this country, and keep Magica as the international name.”

“Ah!” Harry beamed up at Voldemort. “That works!” Honestly, Harry didn’t care that much what the country was called, which is why he had agreed so easily with Voldemort. It had been a way to test the Dark Lord. Agree with him on something, and see how he reacted, and then disagree with him on something else, and see how that went. As far as Harry was concerned, so far Voldemort had passed the test. Harry was well aware Voldemort wasn’t the type to simply bow down to every one of Harry’s wishes and commands, and he certainly didn’t expect that of him. Harry welcomed ideas and well-thought-out arguments. But what he didn’t welcome was anyone thinking they could take over Harry’s country and turn it into a dictatorship with themselves at the helm.

Harry was pleased to see that so far Voldemort was willing to work with him enough that Harry didn’t expect huge problems in the future.

“My thanks for your hospitality, Harry,” Voldemort said once he finished his glass of wine. “I will return home and start getting my affairs in order. Set up a new identity, ready my property for relocation and quietly inform a few trusted friends of the existence of Magica.”

“That sounds good,” Harry agreed easily. “And I’ll start moving the island, which is rather important.”

“I will send you an owl when I’ve accomplished my tasks.” Voldemort offered Harry a polite nod, which Harry returned, and he saw his guests to the door.

“One final thing,” Voldemort said once he and Barty stood outside the castle. Voldemort reached inside his robes and pulled out a small scroll. “As promised.”

“Ooh.” Harry accepted the scroll eagerly, and before he was even able to open it, Voldemort and Barty apparated away. Harry stared at the runic arrays written in a neat script on the piece of paper in his hands. “Ooooh. Those are some sexy runes.”

“What is it with you and that word,” Sirius said with a small shudder.

“That went well,” Remus said with a pleased smile, ignoring Sirius’ dramatics.

“Sure,” Sirius agreed, and then shuddered again. “I mean, I feel like I need a shower or something, but at least no one died, so there’s that.”

Harry finally looked up from the paper in his hands. “Let’s put up some phoenix wards!”

“First get the island moving, please,” Remus reminded him with a gentle smile.

“Yeah, alright.” Harry wandered to the coastline and activated the runes again which were still left in the bedrock, and the island came to life with a few booming jerks before smoothly moving across the ocean westwards. After that, Remus and Sirius helped him decipher the phoenix wards and add them to the existing wards on the island.

The next week kept Harry plenty busy. So busy in fact he conveniently didn’t have time to tell his family anything about his new friend.

Harry took his time flying around the island on his broom and mapping out the areas for different types of development. Until that point, Harry had been winging it without any solid plans but now that he was expected to build a town, Harry knew he needed to start developing the island properly.

First Harry dug out at least ten large holes for ponds and lakes spread out across the island. The frequent rainstorms they got in November filled them all up soon enough. They would provide water for wildlife and different habitats for aquatic life and many species of insects. Harry got pond and lake water from Ireland and Britain, filling up barrels which he emptied into the sterile water, adding much needed bacteria and other microscopic life. He also added lots of aquatic plants, and things like reeds for the banks.

Somewhere in the middle of this job, Harry received a heartfelt letter from his three young assistants, offering their condolences for the loss of his godfather and asking what the fuck actually happened, because as expected, the Daily Prophet had given an utterly biased report of Sirius’ trial.

Harry wasn’t stupid enough to tell them the truth in a letter, so he simply accepted their condolences, told them he was fine, and that all he could tell them at that time was that the Ministry was utterly corrupt and that unfortunately Dumbledore was in on it, but that any other news had to wait until later. He then asked them to research what kind of magical plants and animals they would add to a newly constructed country, hypothetically speaking, of course.

After that was done, Harry apparated to and from Britain and Ireland a few times to collect all sorts of small animals. He got plenty of hedgehogs which he placed all around the island, and also fieldmice and different voles and shrews. He also got hares and rabbits, both animals who could easily survive off the meadows that covered most of the island, since the many trees Harry had planted were still growing and only reached up to his waist at that point. So animals like squirrels and most birds would have to wait until the trees were more mature.

On top of that Harry chased down a small herd of roedeer and port keyed them to the island. The deer preferred to hide out in Sirius’ mature woodlands during the day but swarmed all around the island after dark to eat all the luscious grasses. Thanks to Harry’s growth runes all plants were growing very rapidly, and Harry realized he needed more grazers, which led him to the Soay sheep after a tip from Remus.

Soay sheep were a small breed of feral sheep from the St Kilda Archipelago in Scotland, who were tough as old boots and used to surviving in the harsh conditions there. They’d be perfect to keep as feral animals on Magica, to graze the land and add manure to the soil. Harry bought all the animals he could find for sale, which weren’t many, and then he also sheep-napped a few of them from their island home to add to his own herd.

While Harry had tracked down the sheep, he’d come across a farmer who kept Shetland ponies and by the Sun Goddess, they were the most adorable ponies Harry had ever seen, so friendly and so fluffy in their winter coats.

Harry immediately bought twenty, in all different colours and released them onto the island, to help graze the meadows. And then he had a very stern talk with Keket about not eating any of his precious livestock. If she wanted to hunt, Harry would gladly apparate her to the Forbidden Forest so she could munch on oversized spiders.

And then it really was time to start building houses, because Remus let him know he had at least fifteen werewolf friends ready to move to Magica as soon as the houses were finished.

Harry drew a rough sketch of a town, with a town centre, a town hall and several shops around a market square. Those buildings could wait to be constructed, but Harry marked them out on the ground as he picked his spot to build their capitol, which he dubbed Spellbridge.

It sounded nice and the town lay beside the river, over which Harry constructed an arched, stone bridge.

To construct the houses, Harry drew stone from what was to become the street, so that it lost some mass and sunk lower than the houses around it. This would help with drainage of water during rainstorms, Harry knew from bitter experience. The first time he’d build a street of homes from scratch in Sildar, they’d all flooded during the first decent rainstorm of the season.

Not making that mistake again.

The houses were simple enough, transfigured out of bedrock, with stone walls and glass windows and a roof covered in rooftiles. They all had a large fireplace, a kitchen and large sitting and dining room. Upstairs there were three bedrooms and a small bathroom. Harry kept the rooms themselves bare, with stone floors and walls, so people could decorate it as they saw fit. All inhabitants had magic, so that wouldn’t be a problem. They could even add rooms to the house if they wanted, or magically expand the rooms that were already there. Then he measured out half an acre of land, divided in a front and backyard with paths on either side of the house, and placed simple, waist-high stone walls around the property.

He repeated this process ten times, five homes on either side of the street, which he covered with cobblestones. To finish the whole thing, he added sidewalks and walnut trees to line the street, which would provide some shade and some edible nuts in the fall.

It looked rather ridiculous, this nicely built street with homes in the middle of a huge field of grass and flowers, but it was a start and Harry knew that before long many more homes and other buildings would be constructed and their capitol would truly be born.

“Very nice,” Remus said as he and Sirius came to admire Harry’s hard work. “I know my friends will be thrilled to live here.”

“I hope so.” Harry sat down on the stone wall in front of one of the homes. “I’d like you to be our immigration officer, Remus.”

Remus widened his eyes as he looked down at Harry. “I’d be happy to. What would I be expected to do?”

“Basically, keep records of all who move here. Make sure they all sign the necessary magical contracts, that they receive copies of our laws, thing like that.” Harry gestured vaguely to his right, where he planned on constructing the town centre. “I’m building Spellbridge’s town hall next, that’s where you’d work.”

Remus’ smile was both shy and grateful. “I’d love to, really.”

“Hey, Sirius,” Harry called towards his godfather, who had his head stuck inside the door of the house behind them. “Want to be Mayor of Spellbridge?”

“Spell what?” Sirius asked as he turned to stare at Harry in confusion.

“Spellbridge.” Harry waved a hand around. “You know, our new capitol.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Sirius yelled though he seemed happy enough with Harry’s offer.

“I really like the name,” Remus said quickly. “Very classy.”

“Come on,” Harry said, jumping up. “Let’s get started on Town Hall. I’ll show you how I construct buildings.”

“What would I be expected to do as Mayor?” Sirius asked as he hurried to catch up with them.

“Not much, for now. Answer questions, keep the peace.” Harry frowned for a moment. “You were good at potions, right? Brew Wolfsbane every month.” They had decided the moment they knew werewolves were moving in, that they’d receive free Wolfsbane potion every month. For now, Harry and Sirius were the sponsors, but eventually, when taxes and other revenue started coming in, the government would pay for it.

Harry showed Remus and Sirius how he transfigured the surrounding rock into useable buildings, and before long his two friends got the hang of it, and together they constructed Spellbridge’s town square, starting with Town Hall, the surrounding storefronts, and even the outside walls for two buildings that Harry planned to turn into a public library and a health clinic.

And then it was time for Magica’s first residents to arrive. Harry had sent all of them empty wine bottles as portkeys, and that day, just over a week after Voldemort’s visit, Harry, Remus and Sirius stood outside Town Hall waiting for the first folks to arrive.

Magica’s first resident was a young woman with short black hair, carrying a large duffel bag and a worn, black suitcase, who beamed the moment she spotted Remus.

“Hello, Rachel,” Remus said with a warm smile and in a tone that made both Harry and Sirius raise their eyebrows. “I’m so glad you decided to move here.”

“Glad to be here.” And then Rachel turned to Harry and Sirius and gave them a little bow. “Rachel Sutherland. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Harry entered Town Hall and waited for the rest to join them.

Remus had a little desk set up with all the necessary paperwork, and he let Rachel have all the time she needed to read through everything before signing.

“You’re moving into Walnut Lane number 1,” Harry told her, because he was tired, all right, and out of energy to come up with fancy names. “You’re welcome to put up your own wards, as long as it’s nothing lethal.”

“There’s nothing much there yet,” Remus said in an apologetic tone while handing Rachel her copies of the paperwork and a lawbook.

“I don’t care,” Rachel said with a harsh frown on her face, though her lips trembled. “I’d sleep in the mud if it meant living in a magical country where I’m accepted and not treated like a monster. I’m lucky I’m a muggleborn and was able to flip burgers for a living in the muggle world. Others like me who are stuck in the wizarding world are literally starving in the streets because no one will hire them.”

Remus nodded in sad agreement while Harry blinked at her tirade. Harry had known things were bad for werewolves in Britain, but he hadn’t realized how bad.

“Well,” Harry said optimistically. “We won’t rest until we have every last werewolf of Britain living in Magica.”

“Thank you,” Rachel said, her eyes suspiciously bright, and then she stepped up to Harry and pulled him in an unexpected hug. “Seriously, thank you, Mr Potter.”

Harry stood stiff as a board, not used to unexpected affection from strangers while V pecked at Rachel’s hair until she let go.

“If you need anything,” Remus said as he walked Rachel out the door, “I live in Black Manor, which you’ll find to the east of here.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” Rachel held up her black suitcase. “I’ve got my whole life shrunk in here, I’ll be spending the next few days unpacking.” And with that their first resident was off to occupy her new home.

“Remus,” Harry said with a thoughtful frown. “From now on, could you also ask people what their talents are, what sort of magic they’re good at, and what they’d like to do for a living?”

“I’ll make a list,” Remus agreed easily enough, and then the tell-tale sound of a portkey sounded outside and the door opened to reveal a middle-aged man and a woman.

“Frederick and Nina Roberts,” the man said, and then waved at Remus. “Hi, Remus!”

Harry chuckled as they got ready to welcome their second and third residents, and that’s how they spent their morning, getting all the fifteen new residents booked and settled into their new homes. All of them were ecstatic to be there, and all of them were happy enough at the prospect of working any kind of job that would come up.

Harry already had his eyes on Rachel as his new natural development officer. Someone to help Harry expand the ecosystem on the island, which really was a full-time job, to monitor all the different animal species, making sure they were all thriving and making adjustments where needed. Harry loved that kind of work, but unfortunately he didn’t have the time for it.

Thankfully, Rachel happily accepted the job once Harry suggested it to her, and it earned her a liveable income.

Fred and Nina Roberts were an enterprising couple who immediately approached Harry to rent one of the storefronts, which they turned into a very small grocery store that sold the essentials, which was very welcome because it meant no one had to apparate or portkey all the way to Ireland or Britain just because they needed some sugar or eggs.

Another one of the new werewolf residents, an older man named Arnold Milner, saw an opportunity and started selling vegetable seeds, young fruit and nut trees and chickens from his front yard, which were in high demand because everyone wanted to start growing their own food as quickly as possible.

And Harry went back to building more homes while Remus, and their new residents, got the word out, very quietly, amongst all the werewolves of Britain, and almost at once they had dozens of applications.

Harry selected two young men, Shaun and Arnie, and a young woman, Sue, from amongst the residents and hired them as construction specialists, to help him build more homes and other buildings. Soon enough Spellbridge had a few more finished streets. Oak Lane, Chestnut Drive and Elder Street. Harry figured he might as well stick with the theme he’d accidentally come up with.

It was around this time that Voldemort sent Harry a letter, letting him know he had his affairs in order and was ready to move to Magica. Harry replied he’d happily come move his mansion the following day.

That evening, Harry had been invited by Sirius and Remus to have dinner with them at the Manor, which he gladly accepted.

“I’m so tired,” Harry said as he leaned back in his chair once the excellent food was gone and Harry was stuffed.

“You’re working too hard,” Remus chastised him mildly.

“I’ve already hired people to help,” Harry replied in a rather petulant voice. “There’s just so much to do.”

“You should save some strength for those dragons,” Sirius pointed out as he sipped a glass of fire-whiskey. “The first task is coming up in a few days.”

“Ugh.” Harry rubbed both hands across his face, messing up his beard, but he couldn’t care. But thinking about the first task reminded him of the visit from Voldemort, which brought back a specific memory. “Sirius, I keep meaning to ask you,” Harry said as he gave Sirius an expectant look. “If you want to talk to your brother Regulus, all you have to do is ask.”

“What?” Sirius’ eyes widened in realization and then he lowered his head and thumped his forehead against the table. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“You can’t think of everything,” Remus pointed out with a fond smile. “But that is a good idea, Harry. We’ll finally be able to learn what happened to poor Regulus. He was only 18 when he disappeared.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “I’m going to need a picture if you have it.”

Dilby was soon ordered to bring a picture of Sirius and Regulus from Arcturus’ study, and Harry stared at the young face of Sirius’ brother while he took his amulet in hand and brushed his thumb across it, focusing his powers on pulling Regulus’ soul from the beyond.

Nothing happened.

“Is it working?” Sirius asked a little worriedly, looking nervous enough already about the prospect of talking to his brother again. “What’s happening?”

“Hang on.” Harry frowned and concentrated again, summoning Regulus’ soul.

Nothing.

“Huh,” Harry said as he looked at Sirius and Remus with wide eyes. “Either someone else is summoning Regulus’ soul at this very moment, which seems rather unlikely.”

“Or?” Remus asked softly while Sirius swallowed against his obvious nerves.

“Or,” Harry said with a knowing smile. “Regulus Black is still alive.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 20

“Harry.” The look Sirius gave Harry was painfully pleading. “Is that true? Is Reggie still alive?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Harry offered his godfather with an uncertain smile. “But I have no idea what happened or where he is.”

Sirius frowned heavily, his whole forehead creased as he glanced down in concentration. “I only ever heard from Andromeda that Reggie had been killed by Voldemort, and she’d heard it from some second cousin who was still occasionally in contact with the bad side of the family.” Sirius’ lips quivered while he swallowed hard. “And now there’s no one left alive who might know what really happened.”

Just as Harry thought that perhaps topping up Sirius’ glass with some more fire-whiskey to help drink away his sorrows might be a good idea, Sirius suddenly sat up, his face a mask of rock-hard determination.

“There is someone left who would know. Kreacher!”

With a soft pop, a very old, very wrinkly house-elf appeared who looked at Sirius as if he was seeing a steaming pile of fresh erumpent dung. “No-good Master is calling Kreacher?”

“What happened to Reggie!” Sirius demanded while he leaned over to glare at the old house-elf. “You know something, Kreacher, I know you do. So tell me. That’s an order!”

Much to everyone’s surprise the cranky house-elf burst into loud, wailing tears, pulling hard on his own ears as he bent double at the waist. “Master Regulus is making Kreacher swear not to tell anyone.”

Sirius’ face softened a little, and when he spoke next his voice had lost all anger. “Please, Kreacher. If Reggie is still alive, I want to know. What happened to him?”

Kreacher inhaled several deep, hiccupping breaths and his voice had a distinct wet rattle to it when he spoke. “The Dark Lord needed a house-elf and Master Regulus volunteered Kreacher.” In between sobs and wails the whole story came out, of how Voldemort had taken Kreacher with him to a cave, only to abandon him there. How Regulus had wanted to know everything that had happened there and eventually decided to visit the cave himself to collect the artifact Voldemort had hidden there. And how hundreds of inferi had swarmed the small island while Regulus ordered Kreacher to leave with the artifact.

“But Master Regulus only ordered Kreacher to leave, which Kreacher did,” Kreacher said while rubbing his runny nose on the pillowcase he was wearing. “Master Regulus never said Kreacher couldn’t be coming back, which Kreacher did to save his beloved Master.”

“Wait…you saved Reggie? How?” Sirius asked breathlessly, sitting on the edge of his seat as he listened to the story.

“Master Regulus had been pulled into the water. Kreacher is pulling him out again and taking him home. But Master Regulus is not breathing, so Kreacher is using magic to get the water out of his lungs and to make his heart beat again.”

“He died,” Harry said. “And you resuscitated him.”

“That explains why his status changed to deceased on the tapestry,” Sirius said, understanding dawning on his face. “That’s why his vault closed at Gringotts.”

“Master Regulus is telling Kreacher not to be saying to anyone he is still being alive,” Kreacher said while he was still sniffling. “Master Regulus is being determined to destroying the Dark Lord’s artifact. He is taking it and going abroad.”

“Do you know where he is?” Sirius asked eagerly.

Kreacher started crying again, but quieter this time. “Kreacher knows. Master Regulus is saying Kreacher cannot be contacting him, but Master Regulus is not saying Kreacher couldn’t be following him.”

“Where is he?” Sirius demanded.

“Master Regulus is hiding in the Black Forest in Germany. Master Regulus is not doing so well, but Kreacher cannot be helping him because Kreacher cannot be contacting him. Kreacher is leaving food for him and clothes, but Master Regulus is not using them when he finds them.”

Sirius sat back in his seat. “Yeah, well, I’m your master now, Kreacher, and I’m ordering you to get Reggie and bring him here right away.”

The look of sheer relief on the house-elf’s face was almost indescribable and without saying anything he popped away.

“What is going on, that Regulus wouldn’t be using clothes and food and is hiding in a forest?” Remus asked with a concerned frown.

Sirius pursed his lips in frustration. “Don’t know, but we’ll find out soon enough.”

Meanwhile, Harry shared a knowing look with V, who had hopped onto his shoulder the moment Kreacher mentioned an artifact belonging to Voldemort. Harry was pretty sure Regulus had stumbled upon one of Voldemort’s horcruxes. Harry hoped for Regulus’ sake he hadn’t found a way to destroy it, or Harry was pretty sure even he wouldn’t be able to spare Regulus from Voldemort’s wrath.

Kreacher returned with a struggling pile of rags. It took Harry a moment to realize there was a man hiding inside that dirty pile of rags. Something else he noticed immediately was the stench. Regulus smelled like he hadn’t washed himself and his clothes for many, many years. Not to mention he also smelled as though he hadn’t bothered removing his trousers when using the bathroom for a very long time.

Regulus had long, black hair and a long, black beard, but they looked nothing like Harry’s. Regulus hair and beard were matted and visibly contained dirt and food and what appeared to be vomit.

Regulus himself was thin, even skeletal, with sunken eyes, dry, chapped lips and sores visible on his face, hands and bony arms.

Regulus releases a gurgling sound as he turned onto his back and something gold slipped from inside the rags he wore.

It was a golden locket with an ornate S, attached to a golden necklace that hung around Regulus’ neck.

“Bad soul, bad soul,” V chattered softly, glaring at the locket with a suspicious gaze.

“Oh fuck,” Harry breathed the moment he realized what was going on. He extended his powers and what he found was something completely new, something he’d never seen before. The soul part from the horcrux had partially devoured Regulus’ soul, like a parasite that had latched onto its host and was slowly dissolving him. But Regulus’ own soul was strong and had obviously resisted a hostile takeover and had spent the last decade or more fighting back with all it had. But judging by Regulus’ deplorable state, his strength to fight the horcrux was close to running out.

“Reggie,” Sirius said, sounding utterly heartbroken as he sank to the floor beside his brother, right beside Kreacher who stood there crying quietly. “Reggie, what happened?” Regulus gurgled mindlessly, eyes fever-bright but fixed on nothing. Yet the second Sirius put a gentle hand on his shoulder, Regulus lashed out, arms swinging wildly.

“Stupefy,” Harry said, aiming his hand at the struggling man, who immediately fell quiet.

“Harry, what?” Sirius’s cheeks were wet with tears as he looked at Harry in confusion.

“I know what’s going on, and I think I know how to fix him, but we don’t have much time.” Harry got up from his chair and gave both Sirius and Remus an urgent look. “You need to levitate him to my castle. I have a ritual room we need. And I need to get Voldemort.”

“What?” Sirius sounded close to panic now. “What the fuck is happening?”

“No time,” Harry said with finality. “Just trust me, please.”

Sirius looked like he wanted to protest, but Remus put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Let’s get him moved to Harry’s castle.”

Harry didn’t wait around for anymore arguments, but rushed out the dining room and through the corridors and out of Black Manor. He ran all the way to the end of the apparition wards. He’d briefly considered sending his Patronus to tell Voldemort to get his behind to Magica in a hurry, but then he realized that the island had moved since last Voldemort visited it, was in fact still moving and wouldn’t reach its final destination until the end of the week, so Voldemort had no way of knowing where to apparate to exactly. So that left Harry with no choice but to get Voldemort himself. Thankfully Voldemort had sent the coordinates to his mansion just that morning in preparation of the move of his home the next day.

The second Harry was clear of the apparition wards, he apparated to Voldemort’s home, which turned out to be a lovely, muggle mansion up on a hill near a muggle town. Harry landed just outside the main gates, and he pounded his fist against them once he realized they were locked. When that did nothing, Harry sent his Patronus, which was a barok, naturally, and had been for many decades now, ever since he’d created Keket.

That worked and within a minute the gates opened and Harry rushed up the garden path towards the mansion. Voldemort stood waiting for him in the opened doorway, eyebrows raised in obvious question.

“We need your help,” Harry breathed, sounding utterly out of breath as he put a hand on his thigh to keep his balance. “Regulus found one of your horcruxes and he’s been partially possessed by it for more than a decade. He’s in a very bad way, and only you can safely remove it from his soul.”

Voldemort’s expression, which had been politely interested, instantly turned to stone the second Harry mentioned horcruxes.

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry said, this close to losing his patience. “No one cares what you did with your soul. Now let’s go.”

Blinking, Voldemort considered Harry’s statement for a moment before nodding and hurrying after Harry, shutting the door behind him with a bang.

“We will be having a conversation later about how you know my most closely guarded secret,” Voldemort said in a sharp tone, but he came along willingly enough, and that was all Harry cared about. The moment they were able, Harry grabbed Voldemort’s wrist and apparated them to his castle, where they found Remus, Sirius, Kreacher and a floating Regulus waiting for them.

Voldemort stopped dead in his tracks in shock at the sight of Regulus, but Harry yanked on his arm to keep going and he led everyone through the entrance hall of his castle, down the stone stairs to his cellars and into his largest ritual room, which had permanent runes inscribed in the floor, walls and ceiling.

“Put him in the centre of the room,” Harry said with a quick gesture.

“And then leave us,” Voldemort added. Sirius immediately started protesting, loudly, but Voldemort turned to glare at him. “If you want me to save your brother, Black, you will leave this room. We will call you when it’s done.”

“Come on,” Remus said the moment they’d lowered Regulus to the floor. “They know what they’re doing.”

Sirius still looked utterly defiant, but he did let Remus pull him along and out of the room.

Harry walked around the room, touching a string of specific runes to activate them, creating a protective shield around Regulus soul. “The horcrux has partially devoured Reggie’s soul. It will fight if I try to remove it, but if you do it, I believe it will come willingly because you are the original soul.”

“How can you tell what the horcrux has done?” Voldemort asked, watching intently what specific runes Harry activated. Harry doubted Voldemort was familiar with most of them, since there were runes from Santika that he was using.

“I can see it,” Harry said, stepping up to Regulus’ still form.

“You can see souls,” Voldemort said, more than a little dubiously.

“I’m a necromancer,” Harry said simply, unconcerned with Voldemort learning that particular secret.

Voldemort snorted. “So am I, but I cannot see souls.”

Harry turned to give Voldemort an amused smile. “No, you’re not.”

“I assure you, Harry,” Voldemort said, sounding rather condescending. “I have been using necromancy since I was still a student at Hogwarts.”

“Ah,” Harry said, while he raised a finger at Voldemort. “You use necromancy, yes. But that doesn’t make you a necromancer. For that to happen, you have to walk the deathlands, and you haven’t. I can tell.”

“I have to walk the what?” Voldemort glared at Harry as though he suspected Harry was playing one giant prank on him.

“The deathlands.” Harry sighed. “Look, I’m happy to educate you on what it takes to become a necromancer later. I’ll even take you on as my apprentice, if you want, but can we focus on Regulus right now and save his life? He doesn’t have much longer.”

Voldemort’s whole face pinched tightly at the insulting thought of him having to apprentice for anything, especially at his age, but thankfully he did let it go for now and nodded at Harry. “Tell me what to do.”

“Crouch beside Regulus and hold the locket in your hand,” Harry said as he stood beside Regulus and held his hands out above the body so he could focus his power where needed. “I’m going to very slowly unravel the horcrux from Reggie’s soul.”

Voldemort did as requested, but the moment he took the locket in his hands, Harry saw the horcrux latch on tighter to Regulus’ soul, as if trying to get away from Voldemort’s main soul.

“Try to be a little more inviting to the horcrux,” Harry said, which earned him an utterly frustrated look from Voldemort.

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“Try wanting the soul piece back,” Harry suggested, feeling a little out of depth since he’d never had to do anything like this before.

“But I don’t want it back,” Voldemort pointed out with a far too pleasant smile. “I created it for a reason.”

Harry rolled his eyes and extended his powers to take a look at Voldemort’s main soul piece. He hadn’t done it before, not knowing if perhaps a dark wizard like Voldemort might notice him doing so. But apparently Voldemort didn’t have much of a clue when it came to souls, so Harry felt safe doing so.

What he found was the soul-equivalent of a hellscape. Voldemort’s soul was broken and jagged and crumbling. Harry actually inhaled a sharp gasp as he first saw the damage Voldemort had done to himself, and that was with a large piece of his soul he had apparently glued back to his original soul sometime in the last few years.

Souls had an amazing capacity for healing. Harry knew that if they could remove the horcrux safely, Regulus’ damaged soul would heal over time, even without a ritual to help the process along. The same went for Sirius’ dementor-gnawed soul.

But Voldemort’s soul looked far, far worse than that. It looked much like Rylan’s remains had done after Keket had been finished with him.

No wonder the horcrux didn’t want to return. It probably no longer recognized Voldemort’s soul as its original, and honestly, Harry couldn’t blame it.

“V,” Harry said as he glanced at the raven on his shoulder. “We need your help to convince the horcrux to let go.”

V bobbed his head and flew down, landing on Regulus’ chest. Voldemort gave V an utterly disgusted look, which Harry found rather hilarious, all things considered. But it was also rather sad and depressing, that this smart and powerful man was so out of touch with his own mangled soul that he didn’t even recognize a piece of it when it was literally staring him in the face.

V pecked at the locket, feeling for the soul piece inside of it and gently pushing against it. That worked a bit, enough for Harry to focus his own powers on carefully peeling back to strands of the parasitic soul that were stuck to Reggie’s soul.

It was strange to see such a phenomenon, and as he worked, Harry realized that this might have been him, this breathing skeleton who was more dead than alive because a parasitic soul was trying to take over his own. Harry had come to the conclusion a long time ago that the collars Karakas made them all wear to imprison their magic actually held back the powers of the horcrux in his head enough that it never could attempt to do to him what was happening to Regulus. And the Figures in the deathlands had ensured the horcrux could never attempt something like that in the future either by turning it into V.

“Keep going,” Harry told his companion. The horcrux recognized V as part of itself, and was willing to then accept Voldemort as well, at V’s insistence, and slowly but surely Harry was able to release Regulus’ soul.

“Almost,” Harry said, sweat beading on his forehead as he frowned in concentration. This was precision work, but it was also something new and exciting, so Harry enjoyed himself as he saved poor Regulus’ life. It was obvious what had gone wrong. Regulus had meant well when he wanted to destroy the horcrux, but he hadn’t counted on the horcrux having a mind of its own. Regulus had probably worn the horcrux as not to lose it while he searched for a way to permanently get rid of it, and the rest, as they say, was history.

“There!” Harry peeled back the last strand and released a deep sigh. “Take the locket, it’s yours now.”

Voldemort yanked the necklace off, snapping it, but Harry couldn’t blame him. It would have been impossible to slide it off over Regulus’ matted beard and hair.

“Oh, that doesn’t look good,” Harry said as he took in what was left of Regulus’ soul. It looked far worse than Sirius’ soul, as though whole chunks were missing from it.

“Yes, he needs a healer,” Voldemort said as he got back up, completely misinterpreting Harry’s comment. “I’ll fetch one right away.” And with that, Voldemort swept from the room, leaving the door open.

“Harry,” Sirius said in an anxious voice as he stuck his head into the room. “How is he?”

“Come in,” Harry said, walking around the room to activate more runes so he could help heal Regulus’ soul. “Voldemort is fetching a healer. I’ve removed the parasite on his soul, and I’ll now heal what I can of it.”

“His soul?” Sirius asked as he crouched beside his brother and placed a hand on his chest, as if to check to see if Reggie was still breathing.

“Yep.” Harry spread his arms out over Reggie again as the runes around the room activated and he gently poured his power into Regulus’ soul to start the healing process. And since Sirius was there anyway and thoroughly distracted, Harry poured some of that power into his soul as well, to help him heal faster.

By the time Harry was done with the ritual, Voldemort stepped back through the door with a woman following him. She was a tall woman, looked to be in her fifties, and she was carrying a large, black suitcase.

“Healer Tabitha Calderon,” the woman said by way of introduction as she took out her wand and waved it across Regulus’ prone form. “Can we move the patient? Preferably to a bed?

“Yeah, we’re done here.” Harry nodded at the healer. “I’ve got guestrooms upstairs, we can put him in one of those.”

Sirius nodded as he got up as well to give the Healer room to levitate Regulus. Healer Calderon’s eyes widened briefly as she recognized Sirius, who should be dead, but to her credit she quickly ignored him and went to work moving her patient.

“Igor, bring a basin of water, soap and towels!” Harry yelled as they all moved across the entrance hall and up the main staircase. “And some of my pyjamas!”

“Eurgh!”

Harry quickly waved his wand around the second he stepped into the nearest guestroom to get rid of dust and other dirt that inevitably collected in rooms that were barely used. Then he peeled back the blankets on the bed with a quick charm so Healer Calderon could gently place Regulus on the mattress.

“We’ll have to clean him first to assess his wounds,” Healer Calderon said while she carefully cut off the rags with precise cutting charms before pulling them away from Regulus’ body. What they found underneath was heart-breaking, and both Sirius and Kreacher burst into tears at seeing the state of Reggie’s body.

Thin as a skeleton, bruised, covered in sores that oozed pus and there was one large, blackened wound on his thigh that looked, and smelled, like gangrene.

Healer Calderon also removed all of the matted hair on Regulus face and head, leaving an uneven layer of stubble behind and also revealing more sores.

Igor shuffled inside and placed all the requested items on a nearby side-table. Healer Calderon soaked the towels and used them to loosen some of the caked-on dirt around Reggie’s groin before removing it all with a few careful charms. Then she started cleaning each individual wound with many different kind of potions from her suitcase before dressing them with salves and clean bandages.

“He’ll need a liquid diet for the first week or so. Soups and yoghurt are fine. Many small portions many times a day. I’ll give him potions for his dehydration, but you have to make sure he drinks plenty.”

Regulus gurgled, his eyes rolling in their sockets when Healer Calderon rolled him onto his stomach so she could clean his back and dress the wounds there.

“I want to see him again tomorrow.” Healer Calderon looked around the room with obvious worry written on her face. “He’s in very bad shape. Someone needs to stay with him around the clock for now.”

“I’ll make you a voice-activated portkey to my castle,” Harry offered.

“Kreacher will stay with Master Regulus.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sirius whispered as he wiped a handkerchief over his eyes while Remus had an arm around his shoulders in support.

“If we can get him through these first couple of days, he’ll make a full recovery,” Healer Calderon said before turning back to Regulus and spelling a whole collection of potions into his stomach.

After the healer left, Sirius insisted on staying with his brother throughout the night. Remus offered to get some sleep now, so he could take over and allow Sirius some rest in the morning.

“We can postpone moving my mansion,” Voldemort offered as Harry walked him to the front doors.

“Nah,” Harry said with a shake of his head. “There’s nothing here to do for us but wait. I’d much rather keep busy.”

“Very well,” Voldemort said with an agreeable smile. “Then I will see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yep. And thanks, for helping tonight,” Harry said as they stepped out into the cold air.

Voldemort pulled the locket out of his pocket, running it between his fingers. “It does make me wonder why Regulus would have this in his possession.”

Ah, yeah, Harry was going to try to nip any plans for retaliation from Voldemort in the bud if he could help it. “Whatever the reason,” Harry said in his most convincing tone. “Regulus has been punished enough.”

Voldemort glanced up at Harry with a knowing smile, as if he was more than aware what Harry was trying to do. “Perhaps.” And without waiting for a reply, Voldemort apparated away.

Before heading to bed, Harry took a pot of tea and some ham and cheese sandwiches to Sirius and Kreacher, so they’d have something to help tide them over through the night. Regulus was sleeping fitfully, but his pale complexion already looked a bit better.

“I already asked Dilby to make a big pot of soup for Reggie,” Sirius whispered as Harry put a hand on his shoulder to offer him some comfort. “Thanks, Harry, for whatever it was you did in that ritual room.”

“It’s probably best if you didn’t know,” Harry said honestly, remembering Voldemort’s extreme reaction to finding out Harry knew about his horcruxes.

For a second, Sirius looked like he might argue but then he shrugged. “Seeing as how it involved Voldemort, I’m willing to remain in the dark. Maybe Reggie will tell me when he recovers, or maybe not.”

“Goodnight,” Harry offered and went in search of his own bed.

The next morning, after making sure Regulus was still alive and Sirius and Remus didn’t need any assistance, Harry apparated to Voldemort’s mansion where he found the man already waiting for him.

“I would like to observe what sort of magic you’ll be using today,” Voldemort said with an utterly polite smile and a keen glint in his eyes.

“Sure, you can tag along.” Harry didn’t mind having someone watching him work, especially not someone who was genuinely interested in his magic. “I’m going to start with placing the needed runes around your ward-line.”

Voldemort’s property was much smaller than Black Manor had been. The mansion itself was of a large enough size, but the grounds were downright tiny compared to the hundreds of acres that Sirius' Manor sat on, so that made things much easier and quicker to move.

“Was this sort of magic used often in Santika?” Voldemort asked as he followed Harry around the garden.

“Not a lot, no. It’s more like a foundation of this magic existed, to move small structures, and I added to that, expanding the rituals until I was able to move large swaths of land.” Harry looked at Voldemort with an expectant curve of his eyebrow. “Where do you want your mansion to sit? I can put you right beside the coast, to the north of my castle. That way you’ll have a lovely view.”

“That sounds acceptable,” Voldemort said as Harry started opening a portal to the correct spot on Magica. “I’ve already spread the rumour in town that the property has been sold and the new owners are razing it to the ground. So none of the muggles will be surprised to see bare earth where the estate used to be.”

“That’s smart.” Harry gestured for Voldemort to stand right beside him in front of the portal so Harry could fold up his property into itself. It didn’t take more than a few minutes to step through the portal to Magica, position the estate and lower it to settle it into place.

“And there you go,” Harry said with a huge grin as he closed the portal with a wave of his hand. “One mansion, as ordered.”

“It can’t be that simple,” Voldemort said in a disbelieving tone as he stared at Harry with wide eyes. “I am starting to get rather jealous you were the one who got kidnapped and grew up in a world where this kind of magic exists.”

Harry laughed, but it was a rather dark sound. “Growing up in Santika came at a price, though. I spent my first twelve years there as a slave.”

If Voldemort was surprised to hear this, he didn’t show it. Instead he gave an elegant shrug and said, “I grew up in a muggle orphanage. It can’t have been much worse than that.”

“Perhaps,” Harry said agreeably, and he couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if a young Voldemort had ended up in Karakas’ school. Interesting things would have happened, that was for certain.

Over the next few days, as Voldemort settled into his old mansion in a brand-new location, Harry spent his time between checking up on Sirius and Regulus, and helping Remus welcome more residents to Magica.

The first day, Regulus was still pretty much out of it, but Healer Calderon was optimistic enough, and by the second day Regulus was awake and aware but still very, very weak. He did manage a very small smile when he saw both Sirius and Kreacher sitting at his bedside, which caused Kreacher to burst into tears once again.

Harry also spent a few hours with his new construction specialists, teaching them how to build houses, and he mapped out locations for new streets, and then he let them have at it while he went to assist Remus as new residents were port-keying in.

Rachel, the young woman who Harry had hired as his natural development officer, was the kind of person who had endless passion for whatever project caught her fancy, and she visited several muggle second-hand bookstores and bought every book on ecology and biology and the natural world she could find and taught herself what she needed to know.

“We need more trees,” Rachel told Harry when he went to meet with her. “Different kinds. Also, we need many more different species of plants. Ferns, shrubs, that sort of thing.”

Harry handed her a large bag of gold. “Just bring me the receipts. There’s more if you need it.”

And Rachel had grinned in a way that Harry knew she’d be spending all that gold within the week and Magica’s flora and fauna would start thriving soon enough.

Harry still conveniently forgot to summon his family, utterly unsure how he was going to explain to them that his new next-door neighbour was Lord Voldemort, murderer of his parents, with whom Harry was cultivating a very interesting friendship.

And then the day of the first task dawned and Voldemort stood on Harry’s doorstep just as the sun peaked the horizon with a large bottle of Polyjuice potion in his hands, plus a small bag of different human hairs. “For Black, if he wants to join Lupin in watching you get eaten by a dragon.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with a grin. “You’ll be there, too? Old man with grey beard?”

Voldemort nodded while his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Yes, I’ll be sitting with Barty. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

“You don’t even know what I’m planning to do,” Harry was happy enough to point out. “I might not do anything at all.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll dazzle me.” And without waiting for a reply, Voldemort turned on his heels and strolled back to his own home.

“That man,” Harry said with a shake of his head. It was becoming evermore clear that Voldemort was the kind of person who insisted on always having the last word.

“Yes, of course I’ll come,” Sirius said when Harry showed him the bottle of Polyjuice, and then he gave his brother a concerned look. “But if you need me to stay, Reggie, I will.”

Regulus had enough strength to roll his eyes and wave a trembling hand at Sirius, as if to shoo him out of the room.

“Yeah, all right,” Sirius conceded, with a glance at Kreacher. “You won’t be alone and I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“All right. I’m off, because according to the schedule the champions should be there early.” Harry couldn’t help rolling his own eyes when Sirius started looking worried for him. “I’ll be fine. See you later.”

Harry had his staff and wand in his satchel, and that was all he needed. V sat on his shoulder, as usual, and Harry considered telling him he might not be allowed to participate with Harry, but he figured if that was the case the officials would point it out and V could stay in the spectator stands for the duration of the task.

Harry apparated to the gates of Hogwarts and walked towards the doors of the castle, where three very eager assistants lay in wait for him.

“Harry,” Neville said while they all swarmed him. “We know what the task is!”

“Dragons,” Harry said with an amused smile at seeing all three kids deflate before his eyes.

“Oh, no,” Neville said with a quiet groan. “I spent an hour in some thorny bushes watching Hagrid awkwardly flirt with Madam Maxime for nothing.”

Laughing, Harry patted Neville’s shoulder in sympathy. “I really appreciate the effort, Neville. My thanks.”

“Do you have a plan?” Hermione asked eagerly. Harry was sure if he told her ‘no’, she would have at least a dozen solutions ready to go for him.

“Yes, I do. Don’t worry about me.” Harry frowned when he saw Cedric Diggory leave the castle. “Worry about the other participants. They’re much younger than me, and much less experienced.”

“They’ll be fine,” Ron said with a dismissive wave of his hand, even though he looked a bit pale.

“We don’t know that,” Hermione insisted while she glared at Ron.

“I meant to also thank you for your latest research project. It was very helpful.” Harry had received a whole stack of lists of what magical plants and animals the trio thought one should add to a new country, including a three-foot long essay from Hermione on why freed house-elves were important to add as well.

Harry had never even thought about house-elves being enslaved, and honestly, that didn’t sit well with him considering his own history, but he also didn’t have time to give that any thought at that moment. Another project for another day.

“I’d best be off.” Harry waved at his assistants while they wished him good luck.

Harry and the other champions gathered in a tent, where they waited in silence until some of the officials came to offer them a bag to stick their hands into. Out came tiny dragons.

Harry, of course, picked the Hungarian Horntail, which he’d read were particularly aggressive even on their better days.

“Your bird is not allowed in the ring,” Barty Crouch Sr pointed out while he glared at V.

“He’ll fly to the stands before I start the task, promise,” Harry said agreeably, and that seemed acceptable enough because they left him alone after that.

Harry listened to the other Champions compete with half an ear, just to make sure no one died or something, but they all came out alive and with the golden egg. Good for them. Harry still couldn’t care less if he got the egg or not.

What Harry really wanted was a dragon. And thus he’d come up with a plan to kidnap the dragon, with the dragon’s consent. Imagine having a dragon on your island as security against intruders! Harry thought that was an excellent plan.

Initially Harry had considered doing to the dragon what he’d done to Keket. Place the soul of a loved one inside the violent beast, so the beast became a friend instead of a foe. Harry was sure his second cousin Rigel, who’d died at 15 from a magical wasting disease would enjoy being a dragon for a while. But such magic was absolutely forbidden and while the tournament itself stated that all magic was allowed, the tournament did take place on British soil and Harry didn’t want to test the laws of the land and find himself in prison.

So he figured that he could simply communicate with the dragon using Legilimency and transport it to Magica using a portal. There were no rules in the tournament rulebook that said the champions couldn’t take home some souvenirs.

Finally, it was Harry’s turn. Right as he stepped out of the tent, Harry nudged his shoulder up. “You’ve got to go, V. Find our friends in the stands.”

V bobbed his head and peered at Harry for a moment. “Watch back.” And with that, V opened his wings and took to the sky.

Harry swallowed, inhaled a deep breath, and walked inside the waiting arena. He kept himself low and immediately sought shelter behind a couple of large rocks so he could calmly observe the situation. This earned him some booing from the stands, but Harry ignored any and all noise coming from that direction. He simply wanted to get a good feel of the land before taking any action.

The dragon, which was fucking huge and looked possibly even more menacing than Keket, remained calm while she sat on her nest, looking around carefully for any threats.

Harry extended his powers and found that the dragon had a soul, though it was a rudimentary one. Still, that meant that the dragon was sentient and could be reasoned with, so Harry was confident in his plan to kidnap the dragon.

Slowly, Harry raised himself up, still a good distance away from the beast, and carefully made eye contact. The dragon rumbled and huffed in response, small whisps of smoke drifting out of her nostrils. Harry slowly, carefully connected his own mind to hers and what he found was a fiery inferno of fury.

Death the dragon shrieked in her own mind. Smell death. Danger.

Okay, so Harry surmised the dragon wasn’t a fan of necromancers. That complicated things, but Harry was sure he still had a shot with her, so he pushed an image of Magica into her mind while he slowly stepped away from the rock, revealing himself.

No death! the dragon roared. Death bad! Never death!

And because Harry was focussing on her mind, he almost missed the dragon inhaling a deep breath to ready her greatest defence. Harry got a shield up in the nick of time, but it wasn’t strong enough and a stream of fire hit him square in the face, burning his hair, skin and his beloved fur cloak.

“Fucking hell!” Harry yelled as he stumbled back, mind yanking away from the dragon’s with a painful crack. On sheer instinct, Harry pushed his necromancy powers towards the threat before him, and shoved the soul right out of the dragon.

The dragon, which had been getting ready to let loose another stream of fire, fell to the rocky ground in a big thump that shook the whole arena, utterly dead.

“Well, crap,” Harry breathed as he stared at the dead beast, his face hurting like a bitch while his hair and beard were smoking.

Everyone in the audience remained completely silent in the face of this unexpected turn of events, save for two individuals who couldn’t contain their loud cackles.

V was one of them. The other one was an old man with a grey beard.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

“Is it dead?” a blond boy yelled loudly, breaking the silence, and at once dozens of people started muttering and speculating.

Fucking hell, what a mess.

Harry’s mind went into overdrive, analysing the situation and quickly realizing he couldn’t explain to the tournament officials how the dragon had dropped dead without seemingly a single curse fired. But wait, as the blond boy’s comments just proved, the people in the stands didn’t actually know for sure if the dragon was dead, at least not yet.

At once, Harry used a tiny amount of his necromantic powers to give the dragon’s dead body a small jerk, as though the beast was unconscious but trying to wake up.

Immediately a loud ‘Oooooh’ echoed around the arena from the spectators realizing the dragon wasn’t dead, but could in fact wake up at any time and burn Harry alive, perhaps even succeeding during its second attempt.

Harry wasted no time in executing his original plan for kidnapping a live dragon. The fact that the dragon was now dead didn’t bother him one bit. That was what resurrection rituals were for, if Rigel wanted to be a dragon. Or if he didn’t, then Harry could simply turn the dragon into an inferius. With confident steps, Harry walked around the dragon in a large circle, inscribing the necessary runes into the stone to create a portal that would open up under the dragon and transport it instantly to Harry’s backyard on Magica. He also wove a few runes for a preservation charm into the circle, so the body wouldn’t start decomposing. And every few seconds, Harry would make one of the dragon’s legs or wings twitch, as though it were still alive, so the spectators were none the wiser of what had actually happened.

Before activating the portal, Harry gently placed the eggs outside the circle, since he had no use for a whole bunch of baby dragons. They’d grow up to be big dragons, with big appetites, and Magica could not support enough livestock to feed half a dozen hungry dragons.

Picking up the golden egg, Harry stepped out of the circle and with a wave of his hand he activated the runes. Instantly, a golden portal burst to life under the lifeless dragon and without any pause the whole beast fell through as if disappearing into nothing at all.

There were many shouts of surprise coming from the stands, but Harry ignored those and closed the portal again by deactivating the runes. Then he waved his wand around briefly to charm away the runes entirely. He didn’t want anyone to get hold of a runic sequence that opened up a portal right to Harry’s home.

Applause echoed around the arena as Harry left it with confident steps, even though his face still felt like it was on fire.

“This way,” the school healer said, grabbing Harry by the elbow.

“What’s the damage?” Harry asked as he followed her into the first-aid tent where he sat down on the edge of a nearby bed.

“Third-degree burns on your face and upper body,” the healer said while she waved her wand over him. “But a burn salve will fix that right up.”

“My great-grandmother invented that salve,” Harry said to make a bit of conversation as the healer returned with a large jar of green paste. “Charis MacMillan-Black.”

“How nice,” the healer said, opening the jar. “That beard is going to have to come off for me to treat your face, Mr Potter.”

Harry gaped at her in shock. “No.”

“Oh yes, Mr Potter.” The healer couldn’t hold back an amused smile. “Over half of it is gone already anyway, so a little more won’t hurt.”

Still reeling in absolute shock, Harry carefully raised a hand to his face and felt around his beard, which felt very rough thanks to the singed edges. Well, what was left of it did, since the right side of his face seemed suspiciously bare already. Harry sighed and shook his head before giving the healer a pleading look. “Please be gentle.”

V was never going to let him live this down, Harry just knew it.

The healer worked quickly and efficiently, and shaved Harry’s precious beard off with a gentle charm before slathering his entire face and neck in thick, green paste. Next she removed his shirt and applied salve to his upper chest and shoulders as well, and lastly to his slightly burned hands. At least she let him keep the hair on his head, but Harry could tell by feeling it that it too had been burned in places and needed a good cut sooner rather than later.

Harry looked like an absolute clown when his friends came walking into the tent.

Remus was accompanied by a short, big-busted woman who couldn’t stop pulling on her shirt.

“Thank you,” Harry said to the healer once she told him to leave the salve on for at least twelve hours before giving him some privacy.

“How do women not go completely crazy from wearing a bra all day?” the woman muttered, pulling on her clothing again and only now did Harry realize that had to be Sirius.

The tent flap opened again, letting in Barty as Moody, and Voldemort the old man with grey beard. And V, who was sitting on Voldemort’s shoulder as though he was a king being paraded around by his loyal subject. Voldemort himself was studiously ignoring the bird.

V took one look at Harry’s green, beardless face and started cackling in sheer delight, flapping his wings in excitement.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said while shaking his head in resignation. “I look weird, I get it.”

V flew over to sit on Harry’s knee while he clapped his beak. “Dumb beard gone!”

“I’m glad you’re alright, with or without your beard,” Remus said with a humorous glint in his eyes. “It looked for a moment like the dragon had burned you alive.”

“Where did it go, the dragon?” Sirius asked.

“My backyard,” Harry said with an unconcerned shrug.

Remus’ eyes widened in alarm. “You let loose a dragon in Magica?”

“It’s dead,” Harry said in a rough whisper.

“Dead, dead,” V cawed in agreement, giving Remus a frankly condescending look.

“Ah.” Remus released a deep sigh and nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. It looked like she was still alive.”

“Yeah, that was to throw everyone off the fact that I accidentally killed her,” Harry said with a morose little smile.

“You accidentally killed a dragon,” Barty said in a disbelieving tone, Moody’s artificial eye spinning around wildly.

“I wanted to take her alive,” Harry said while his shoulders hunched. He had just cocked everything up, hadn’t he? Even in his old age, Harry was still really good at planning one thing, only for things to go sideways in the most spectacular fashion. “But she didn’t like my scent and then she set me on fire and I panicked, okay?”

“Still, that portal was impressive,” Voldemort said and then gestured towards the tent’s entrance. “Lots of people out there are going to be wondering how you were able to create such a thing.”

“When you’re ready, Mr Potter, they’re waiting for you outside to give you your score,” the healer said as she approached him again.

“I don’t care about a score, but I suppose I might as well go.” Harry got up with a quiet groan, slipped his singed shirt back on and pulled on his burned cloak. V took his customary spot on Harry’s shoulder, which was still a bit sore from the burns, and then they all trooped outside where three very anxious kids stood waiting for him.

“You’re alright!” Hermione all but yelled when she spotted him.

“I’ll be good as new soon,” Harry assured his young assistants. “Just with less hair from now on.”

Neville looked a little disappointed at that news. “I liked your beard. It made you look like Hagrid.”

Harry shrugged while he offered Neville a grateful smile. “Thanks. I might try to regrow it, but I doubt V will let me.”

“No beard!” V cawed while giving Harry’s cheek a harsh peck. His beak came away partially covered in green paste.

“Mr Potter,” a redhaired man who looked a lot like Ron approached them. “Where did the dragon go? We’ve got to find her.”

“That’s Charlie, my brother,” Ron said quickly, not without a large amount of pride.

Harry made a production of looking rather confused. “You know, I’m not quite sure. I had to open that portal in a hurry before the dragon woke back up and finished me off, so I was simply aiming for the other side of the world.”

Charlie Weasley’s eyes widened almost comically. “The other side of the world?”

“Well, the rules didn’t say we had to keep all accessories at the location of the first task,” Harry explained with a pleasant smile. “Have a nice day.” And without giving Charlie Weasley a chance to reply, Harry stepped around him and continued his way towards the jury tent.

After everyone had announced their scores, Harry was tied for the lead spot with Viktor Krum, but he honestly couldn’t care less about that. Harry planned on getting back home in a hurry, since he had a dead dragon to deal with.

“Mr Potter,” Professor McGonagall said as she stepped directly into Harry’s path just as he was about to cross Hogwarts’ wide lawn. “We don’t make the official announcement at Hogwarts until later, but since you spend so little time here I thought it a good idea to inform you now.”

“Inform me of what?” Harry asked impatiently.

“The Yule Ball,” Professor McGonagall said with a tight smile, as though she couldn’t quite decide if she found the whole situation distasteful or hilarious. “On Christmas night a ball will be held here at Hogwarts where the Champions are expected to attend. With a date.”

Harry was tempted to hex her, honestly. His face still burned, he’d lost his beard and there was a perfectly good dead dragon going to waste in his backyard right at that moment. “Will I lose my magic if I don’t attend?” Harry asked as he narrowed his eyes.

“No.” McGonagall’s lips pursed into a tight line. “But, Mr Potter, it is tradition –“

Harry cut her off with a sharp gesture of his hand. “Madam, I couldn’t care less about your traditions. Please remember that I was forced into this tournament against my will and I was almost just burned to death by a fucking dragon, all for your people’s entertainment. You can take that ball and shove it up your arse.”

Remus and Sirius stood to the side, staring at Harry in absolute shock, mouths hanging open, as Harry shoved his way past McGonagall while V crowed, “Arse ball, arse ball.”

Voldemort kept it together, but barely, as his lips kept twitching as he hurried after Harry across Hogwarts’ lawn towards the gates.

“Seriously,” Harry muttered, mood souring considerably. “Why does every fucking person here think they can treat me like I’m a kid.”

“Because they have no idea about your true powers,” Voldemort said as he caught up with Harry, matching his hurried steps. “You just tricked a whole stadium of people into thinking an obviously dead dragon wasn’t dead at all and you didn’t even raise your wand to do it. Moreover, you never raised your wand to kill the dragon in the first place.”

“I suppose.” Harry stopped once they passed the gates. “I’ll be glad when this whole stupid tournament is over and done with and I can just focus on running Magica.”

Before Voldemort could respond, a new voice called out across the grounds. “Mr Potter! Mr Potter!” Bartemius Crouch Sr hurried towards them, one hand holding his bowler hat firmly in place on his head.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry muttered, tempted to just apparate away, but ultimately his magic was on the line because of this stupid tournament so he decided it was probably a good idea to see what the tournament official wanted with him now.

“Mr Potter,” Crouch breathed as he reached them. “The Department of Education asked me to remind you that only wizards who have at least three OWLs are allowed to carry wands in Britain. They have sent you several missives to urge you to sign up for the OWLs this December, but they haven’t yet received a reply.”

Harry gave Crouch Sr an even stare. “Since when do Britain’s laws apply to foreign citizens?”

“I beg your pardon?” Crouch frowned as he looked at Harry in confusion. “Well, Mr Potter, they don’t. Every country has their own laws.”

Harry leaned forwards a little and offered Crouch a smug little smile. “Exactly. By the laws of the country I live in I’m allowed to carry a wand.”

“Wait…are you saying…” Crouch looked like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I’m no longer a British citizen. I’ve moved abroad. Good day.” And with that, Harry apparated to the area in front of his castle. Voldemort appeared there a few moments later with a sharp crack.

“I’ve got a dragon to deal with,” Harry said just as the doors of the castle pushed open and Keket slunk out. “Hello, girl. I’m still in one piece.”

“Dumb beard gone!” V felt compelled to point out, even though Keket was already staring at Harry’s face while she clicked in amusement.

“My Polyjuice potion is almost wearing off,” Voldemort pointed out as he leaned one hand against the castle wall. “I will join you at the dragon in a moment.”

Right then Remus and Sirius apparated to Harry’s doorstep. “I’m going to check up on Reggie,” Sirius called while rushing inside the castle. Remus gave Harry a nod and followed Sirius inside.

“So I killed the dragon,” Harry told Keket as they walked around the castle. “Didn’t mean to, but I can resurrect it. I was thinking of asking Rigel if he wanted to use the body for a while.”

Keket rumbled in understanding and once she saw the dead dragon lying in the flowery meadow, she loped towards it, circling it so she could see it from every possible side. The moment she returned to Harry’s side she bumped her large head against his hip before staring into his eyes. It was her way of telling Harry she wanted to talk to him. Without pause, Harry stared back and connected their minds with Legilimency.

Give me the dragon body. Keket said at once.

“Why?” Harry asked, unsure why Keket would ask such a thing. She’d been more than happy as a barok for well over a century now.

Keket sighed, hanging her head a little. This body is getting old, Harry. I feel it in my bones. I need lots of sleep. My joints hurt almost every day now.

“Oh.” Harry was more than a little taken aback. He’d noticed, of course, that Keket slept more these days than she’d done decades ago but he’d never wondered about the reason for it. But it made sense. Baroks were not magical creatures. They were just animals, though fairly long lived ones.

Your magic and my soul have added many years of life to this body. Keket said in a patient tone. But my time is running out. I feel it.

Harry felt himself tear up a little as he crouched in front of his oldest friend, placing both his hands on the side of her massive head. He leaned his forehead against her broad snout, smearing green salve all over her black scales. “Okay, girl. We’ll make you a dragon. I’m just going to miss having you around in the castle, sleeping on the foot of my bed. That’s going to be impossible in your new body.”

Keket clicked and rubbed her head against Harry’s hands. Yes, but we could go flying together instead.

“That’s true,” Harry said with a watery smile, pushing himself back up with a sigh.

“Is everything alright?” Voldemort said as he joined them, looking all tall, dark and handsome again.

“Yes and no,” Harry said while he gestured at Keket. “I put my oldest friend’s soul in the barok’s body many years ago,” Harry explained to a visibly surprised Voldemort. “But the barok’s body is getting old and she wants to be transferred into the dragon’s body. That’s fairly easy to do, but I can’t keep a dragon inside my castle, so I’m going to miss having her around.”

Voldemort nodded slowly a few times, staring down as though deep in thought. “Wait just a second with transferring her. I might have the solution to your problem.” And without saying another thing, Voldemort apparated away.

“Well, we might as well set up the ritual circle. We’ll need it no matter what we’re going to do with the dragon,” Harry said with one last stroke of his hand across Keket’s head. Right as Harry had drawn the outline of the circle, Voldemort appeared again, carefully holding a glass carafe that contained an iridescent liquid that shimmered in the sunlight.

“This will rejuvenate your friend’s current body,” Voldemort said, briefly raising the carafe. “She will find her youth restored and she will be able to live for many years to come.”

“Really?” Harry blinked as he stared at the carafe, unsure what sort of potion was capable of such a thing.

“Oh yes.” Voldemort’s smile reminded Harry’s of a shark showing far too many teeth. “Of course, I would expect a… favour in return for this gift.”

Ah. There it was. Harry almost wanted to laugh out loud but instead he just rolled his eyes and gestured at Voldemort to get on with it. Naturally a Dark Lord would want to turn every little thing around in his own favour.

Voldemort’s predatory smile dimmed until it looked positively generous. “You seem most happy when you’re getting hands-on with the construction of Magica, Harry. Let me take some of your responsibilities out of your hands.”

“Hmm.” Harry narrowed his eyes, seeing perfectly where Voldemort was going with this. What a fucking snake he was, though Harry supposed he couldn’t and shouldn’t be surprised by Voldemort’s attempted power-grab.

“Make me Governor for the next five years,” Voldemort said in a tone that was so very reasonable, even kind. “I’ll take care of the politics and you can grow the land and have your friend by your side in the castle.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed. “Nice try, neighbour.” Then he turned his back to Voldemort in a clear dismissal and gave Keket a smile. “Looks like we’ll be flying together before the sun sets today.” Keket chirped in excitement.

“Harry.” Voldemort’s voice contained a clear amount of frustration. “Harry, be reasonable.”

“No.” Harry turned around to stare at Voldemort and he didn’t care that his face was still covered in green goo and that his hair was a singed, uneven mess. He would not hand the rule of his country over to Voldemort, not for anything in the world. “If you want to be governor of Magica, you are welcome to run for that position in five years when it opens up for elections. But as clearly stated in the rules which you signed when moving here, I am the Governor of Magica for the next five years as we get the country developed. End of story. I am just deeply disappointed in you that you would try to blackmail me over this while the life of my oldest friend is at stake. Kindly go fuck yourself.”

When Voldemort started talking again, Keket let out a loud roar and opened her mouth wide as she jumped towards Voldemort, who stumbled back in surprise, barely holding onto the carafe.

“Besides,” Harry said to Keket as he gestured at her to join him as he completed the ritual circle. “You can be a dragon for a few years, just to have fun with it, and once you get tired of being so big and you want to move into the castle again, we’ll find you a new body. They have lots of interesting magical creatures in this world.”

“Thestral,” V cawed while he kept giving Voldemort nasty glares. “Nundu.”

“See?” Harry smiled down at Keket while she rubbed her head against his hip. “There are all sorts of interesting possibilities waiting for you.”

“Are you really going to ignore me?” Voldemort demanded, voice holding a very real edge of anger.

Harry ignored him as he calmly completed the circle around the dragon. He had never given into blackmail and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Fine,” Voldemort finally said with a tired sigh. “I won’t ask to be governor right now. I’ll run for it in five years. Now make me a different offer. This is the Elixir of Life, Harry. It’s worth more than a little something.”

Harry shrugged, still not looking at Voldemort. “I don’t even know what that is, so to me it’s worthless.”

Voldemort released an utterly frustrated sound. “The Elixir of Life. It’s made from the Philosopher’s Stone. It gives one eternal life when consumed on a regular basis. When ingesting a single doses it restores youth and health.”

“Yeah, still not ringing any bells,” Harry said in a voice that was dripping with not giving a fuck. “There, the circle is done.”

“Harry…just…” Voldemort’s whole face was pinched with frustration. “How can you just not care?”

“Years and years of practice,” Harry replied with a teasing smile. Who knew riling up Dark Lords could be this much fun. “You want an offer? Here’s my offer. I’ll teach you how to walk the deathlands.”

Voldemort’s face relaxed into a smooth mask as he mulled over Harry’s suggestion. “But you were going to offer me that anyway, without any cost.”

“Take it or leave it.” Harry turned his back to Voldemort again and gestured at Keket to step into the circle. “It won’t hurt, girl, but it will probably feel very strange to switch bodies after having lived in this one for so long.”

“Fine!” Voldemort sounded like he was very close to stomping his foot. “I’ll take that as payment. Here, save your friend.” Voldemort held out the carafe as though it held stale urine instead of a priceless elixir.

“Thanks.” Harry accepted the carafe, nodded at Keket who was sitting patiently beside the dragon and then marched back to his castle.

“Harry, where are you going?” Voldemort demanded, brows furrowed.

“You never specified which friend,” Harry called over his shoulder. “I’m just terribly disappointed in you that you saw that Regulus was on death’s door and you never even once offered this elixir to save his life.” Harry marched straight into his castle, V chattering on his shoulder. He understood all too well why Voldemort’s hadn’t offered the elixir to Regulus. There had been nothing in it for him. But now that Keket needed it, Voldemort figured he could use the situation to try to grab power away from Harry under the guise of being a caring friend.

Yeah, interesting try but Harry wasn’t born yesterday. He would miss Keket the barok immensely, but Keket’s soul would live on and that was what ultimately mattered the most.

Regulus was awake when Harry entered his room, with Sirius and Remus sitting at his bedside, apparently just done with telling Reggie all about Harry’s recent adventures. Regulus was too weak to talk but his eyes crinkled in amusement while he raised one bony hand to gesture at Harry’s beardless chin.

“Yeah, yeah, the dragon almost won, until it didn’t,” Harry said as he approached the unoccupied side of Regulus’ bed. “I brought you a present. This will help heal you. It’s called the Elixir of Life, but I have no clue what that is.”

Sirius made a choking noise while Remus clapped a hand over his mouth in shock. “Where did you get this?” Remus whispered.

“Voldemort,” Harry said, and at once Regulus shrank back in his pillow, eyes wide in obvious fear. “He’s not coming for you, Regulus,” Harry explained quickly. “In fact, he helped save your life.”

“Dumbledore told us the Philosopher’s Stone had been stolen,” Remus said softly, still with a look of utter disbelief on his face as he stared at Harry.

“Ah.” Harry shrugged, still not sure what the hell anyone was talking about when it came to that stone. “Here, you want it?” Harry held the carafe out towards Regulus, who gave it a very dubious look.

“If it makes you feel better,” Harry said, understanding why Regulus would be more than a little apprehensive to drink anything offered by Voldemort. “He didn’t mean for you to have this. He meant for Keket to drink it.”

“Why would your hell-beast need the Elixir of Life?” Sirius asked, still sounding a little breathless with shock.

“Because her body’s old and it doesn’t have more time left. But I’m turning her into a dragon instead, so it’s fine.”

“What?” Sirius asked in a very small voice.

Regulus raised a trembling hand and gestured for Harry to give him the elixir. Harry smiled down at him while he carefully brought the edge of the carafe up to Reggie’s chapped lips. Regulus closed his eyes while he slowly drank down the elixir, a little spilling down his chin. Once the carafe was empty Regulus lay perfectly still.

“Reggie?” Sirius asked as he leaned closer to the bed. “Are you okay?”

Some of Regulus’ hair grew back before their eyes while his face filled out a bit and colour came back to his cheeks. When Regulus opened his eyes they were no longer sunken. “I feel great,” Regulus said looking between Harry and Sirius in amazement. “Thank you, Mr Potter.”

“Harry will do. Welcome back, Regulus.”

“We can take you back to Black Manor,” Sirius said. “And show you Magica. Imagine, Reggie, an island where we don’t have to hide our magic. We can fly brooms from one end to the other without having to worry about muggles seeing us.”

“That does sound amazing,” Regulus said, looking at Sirius as if he worried his brother might be a mirage that could disappear at any moment. Then he glanced at Harry. “Thanks for your hospitality.”

“You’re more than welcome. I’ll leave you to move back home.” And with that, Harry left them to it, glad to see Regulus instantly restored to good health.

Right outside Regulus’ room, Harry ran into Voldemort, who was holding another shimmering carafe.

“You are an impossible man!” Voldemort snarled, face a picture of quiet fury. “But I am willing to make a new deal.”

“Name your price,” Harry said with clear amusement in his voice.

Voldemort briefly bowed his head while inhaling a deep breath. “You are not the only one who has a dangerous animal for an old friend.”

“Go on.”

“I ask that you make a new island, off the coast of Magica. It doesn’t have to be big. It needs some comfortable caves, some forests for wildlife and perhaps a small lake.”

“That’s easy enough to do,” Harry said agreeably “What’s going to live there?”

The look Voldemort gave Harry was almost challenging. “A basilisk.”

Harry frowned in worry. “Aren’t those really dangerous?”

And there was that frustration again painted all across Voldemort’s face. “Says the man who currently has a dragon laying about in his yard and just talked about turning his friend into a nundu.”

“Alright.” Harry chuckled before nodding in understanding. “You make a good point. One well-warded island for your basilisk in exchange for the Elixir of Life for Keket. Deal?”

“Deal.” Voldemort quickly handed the carafe to Harry as though afraid Harry might change his mind.

“Where is the basilisk currently? When would you be able to bring it here?”

“Ah.” Voldemort’s face smoothed out again while he sported a perfectly charming smile. “That’s where it gets interesting. The basilisk is hidden at Hogwarts.”

Harry raised both eyebrows in shock. What kind of a fucking society kept dangerous murder serpents in their schools?

“It would be difficult for me to break into Hogwarts right now without tripping the wards and alerting Dumbledore to my presence,” Voldemort continued, tilting his head a little as if to portray himself as far more innocent than he really was.

“Then how are you getting the basilisk?” Harry asked, not fooled by Voldemort’s charming façade for even one second.

“That is where you come in, Harry.” Voldemort stepped a little closer to Harry. “You have an invitation to Hogwarts for Christmas day.”

“No,” Harry said at once when he realized where this was going. “Absolutely not.”

Voldemort studied him while the door behind them opened and Sirius, Remus and Regulus walked out. They stopped once they saw the hallway was occupied and they stared at Harry and Voldemort in confusion.

“Harry,” Voldemort said with a sugary-smooth voice. “Will you do me the honour of attending the Yule Ball with me?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 22

Harry wasn’t sure whether to laugh or punch Voldemort in the face, but he did find himself momentarily speechless. Of all the things he’d expected to happen once he teamed up with Voldemort, receiving an invitation to go to a formal ball at Hogwarts with the Dark Lord hadn’t been one of them.

“No,” Harry said when he finally regained the ability to speak. “Hell no.”

Voldemort leaned a bit closer and gave Harry a look as though he was about to argue with him, but then he straightened again and offered Harry a crooked smile that made him look like an irresistible rogue. “I’ve got a month to convince you,” Voldemort said, eyes narrowed but shining with ambition. “And I will.”

“I already said no,” Harry called after Voldemort.

“Come along, Harry,” Voldemort said without a care in the world as he walked towards the staircase with quick steps. “I’d like to see how you reanimate that dragon.”

“I’m not going to reanimate it, I’m going to resurrect it. There’s a difference,” Harry said, feeling a little insulted that Voldemort would think him only capable of animating dead things.

“What the fuck just happened,” Sirius asked, his eyes wide and his face pale.

“Was that Voldemort?” Regulus whispered. “Asking Harry to a ball?”

“I find it’s best not to ask too many questions,” Remus said with a decisive nod. “It greatly reduces one’s stress-levels while living on Magica.”

Harry carefully held onto the carafe of Elixir of Life in his hands as he descended the stairs, having trouble keeping up with Voldemort’s long strides. Keket met them inside the entrance hall and Harry showed her the carafe. “If you still want to be a dragon, that’s okay, too. But if you want to remain a barok you just have to drink this.”

In reply, Keket slunk closer to Harry and opened her wide mouth. Well, that was an obvious answer, so Harry smiled and carefully poured the elixir in while Keket gulped it all down. Once the carafe was empty, Harry stepped back and waited for something to happen.

Nothing did for a few, long moments while Keket simply stood still, but then she jumped eight foot in the air from standstill and let out a loud, victorious roar. At once she ran up the wall and across the whole entrance hall, scaring the crap out of Sirius, Regulus and Remus who were just walking down the stairs.

“So I guess it worked,” Harry said with a chuckle while Keket bounced around the large room before all but flying out of the door, almost bowling Voldemort over, who stood waiting for Harry.

“Your friend will be able to enjoy her body for many years to come,” Voldemort said as he fell into step with Harry on their way to the dragon. “How will you control the dragon now?”

“I’m going to put my second-cousin Rigel in it, if he wants to,” Harry replied, quite amused by Voldemort’s dubious expression.

“How are you going to summon his soul?” Voldemort asked with a contemplative frown as he glanced at Harry. “Summoning a specific soul is notoriously hard.”

“Is it?” Harry asked, unobtrusively rubbing his thumb across his amulet. “I had no idea.” Just then, Rigel appeared before them. “Oh, hey, Rigel.”

Voldemort stopped walking at once, staring at the floating, shimmering figure with eyes so wide they almost bulged out of his head. Harry made sure to pour enough power into Rigel that he was visible for everyone. The last thing Harry wanted was for Voldemort to know that Harry could also summon his family members in a way that kept them invisible for all others. Let Voldemort come to all the wrong conclusions on his own without Harry jeopardizing his ability to spy on others.

“Hi, Harry,” Rigel said with a happy little wave. Then he looked around in confusion. “Where is everyone else?”

Harry kept walking, ignoring Voldemort’s obvious shock. “I just needed to talk to you for a second, Rigel. How would you like to be a dragon?”

Rigel’s mouth sank open. “Be a dragon? Like how you put Rindyll’s soul in the barok? What kind of dragon?”

“A Hungarian Horntail,” Harry said with a smirk, thoroughly enjoying his cousin’s enthusiasm.

“Yeah, I would love to be a Hungarian Horntail!” Rigel tilted his head as he floated beside Harry. “Where on earth did you get a dragon like that, though?”

“Took it home with me from the first task.”

“Wait, the first task has already happened?” Rigel frowned in obvious confusion. “Why didn’t you call me to see it? Or didn’t you call any of the family?”

Harry glanced at Voldemort, who had just caught up with them again and who was staring at Rigel as if he was seeing something utterly impossible. “I’ve been busy,” Harry said evasively.

“Sure, but you can call us in a second. We would have liked to see the first task, Harry.” Rigel seemed rather hurt Harry hadn’t let him witness the start of the tournament and Harry felt an uneasy churn of guilt in his stomach. “Can you at least call my parents now? I’d like for them to see me become a dragon.”

They reached the dead dragon and Harry almost ran both of his hands down his face in frustration but then he remembered at the last moment that his entire face was still covered in green goo so he just groaned instead. Voldemort stood beside him, practically bursting with curiosity if the manic glint in his narrowed eyes was any indication.

Dammit, Harry was not a coward. He’d been a sheltered little swot once upon a time, but he’d never been a coward. And yet he was absolutely terrified to summon his family and tell them he’d thrown his lot in with Lord Voldemort of all people. Behind them, Sirius, Remus and Regulus arrived to watch the show. During the last week Sirius had pointedly asked Harry a few times where James was but Harry had changed the subject each time or simply left the room instead of offering Sirius an answer. Remus had just given Harry knowing looks, as if he was well aware of Harry’s inner-struggles, but he’d never commented on them.

“Fuck it,” Harry finally said, utterly tired of himself for not simply getting this confrontation over and done with. He brushed his thumb across the amulet and summoned his entire family. The sight of another eleven shimmering floating bodies appearing out of nowhere drew a shocked gasp out of Regulus while Voldemort was cursing quietly in disbelief. “Okay, everyone,” Harry said while waving both hands. “Eyes on me, please. We’re turning Rigel into a dragon today.”

“A dragon?” Dorea demanded as she floated over to her son. “Wouldn’t that be dangerous? Someone might try to hurt him.”

Charlus snorted and shook his head. “Don’t be absurd, Dorea. Who could harm him as a dragon? Let the boy have some fun.”

“Yeah,” Rigel said, giving his mother a pleading look. “I’d love to fly again, Mum.”

“Where did you get a dragon?” James asked as he stared at the huge dead body before them.

Before Harry could answer, Rigel floated over. “Harry never invited us to the first task! I don’t know why, but we’ve missed it. But he did bring a dragon home from the task, apparently.”

“Harry,” Lily asked quietly as she approached her son, head tilted in question. “Why didn’t you let us see you compete?”

Again, before Harry could reply, someone else beat him to it. “I’d wager a guess that Lord Voldemort’s presence here has something to do with it,” Auntie Eustice said as she waved a hand at Voldemort, who at some point had conjured a comfy chair and was sitting in it, leaning back comfortably, one leg crossed over the other. When every single member of Harry’s family turned around to look at him in shock, Voldemort gave them all a polite nod.

“Harry?” Lily asked, her voice tightening in panic. “Harry, what is Voldemort doing here?”

“Are you in cahoots with our murderer?” James demanded, getting right up in Harry’s face. “After everything that man has done to our family?”

Fleamont looked utterly heartbroken as he stared at his grandson. “Harry, why would you do such a thing? Have you no care for our family? Our legacy?”

Hot anger spilled over inside Harry, fuelled by weeks of beating himself up about this situation. “What family?” Harry yelled, glaring between all his family members. “You’re all dead! I’m all that’s left in this world, because my legacy got left behind in Sildar when I was forced back here against my will!” Harry’s parents lost some of their obvious anger, but Harry wasn’t done yet. “I’m now stuck in a world where every bit of magic that comes naturally to me is illegal and will see me imprisoned or executed. I’m stuck in a country with such a corrupt judicial system that they were able to organize a sham trial for my godfather and sentence him to death without anyone kicking up any fuss whatsoever. I’m stuck in a world where some old manipulator expects me to fight for a prophecy that’s already been fulfilled and was never about Voldemort in the first place. And I’m collaborating with Voldemort because he’s a dark wizard, like me, who wants to see all of magic restored!”

Lily sighed and exchanged a conflicted look with James. “We were thoroughly disappointed in Dumbledore as well, Harry, for what he did to Sirius, but that’s not a good reason to suddenly fight on the other side of the war.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Harry snapped, patience utterly gone. “I’m not fighting in any war. I’m bypassing the war entirely because I don’t care what happens in Britain. I’ve got my own country to run.”

“Do you honestly believe Voldemort will stop fighting for control of Britain?” James asked while looking at Harry in obvious disappointment.

“I am sitting right here,” Voldemort called out, raising his hand to draw attention to himself. “I can answer that question for you. Simply put, as long as there is a country where we can practise the magic of our choosing freely, I don’t want to wage a war against anyone.”

“We’re supposed to believe that?” James asked, arching in eyebrow in disbelief.

“I do,” Sirius said, much to James’ obvious surprise. Sirius was sitting beside Regulus and Remus on a conjured stone bench and he gave James an even look. “Yeah, I’m not happy having to play nice with that bastard, but after what Dumbledore and the Ministry did to me I’m done with that side. And so far Voldemort has been reasonable, and whenever he tries to implement something stupid like blood-purity, Harry cuts him down at once. You should have some more faith in your kid, Prongs. Harry’s been doing good here.”

“I know Harry’s a good kid,” James said softly with an uncertain smile.

“It’s just… “ Lily sighed as she gave Harry a pleading look. “Time moves so differently when you’re dead. One moment it feels like yesterday that Voldemort murdered us, and the next moment it seems like centuries ago. It’s the same with Dumbledore’s recent betrayal.”

“It’s hard to change your mind about anything once you’re dead,” Euphemia said with a knowing look at Lily. “Souls are set in their ways, and it’s difficult to change those ways when you don’t have a body with a nice set of brains to do your thinking for you.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Harry said, hanging his head a bit, suddenly exhausted. “Mum, Dad, I don’t want to hurt you, I really don’t. But Voldemort can truly help make Magica an amazing country for all magical people and that’s what matters to me now. I have no other choice.”

“You could have just moved to any other country than Britain,” Charis pointed out delicately. “Russia allows most dark magic, for example.”

“I don’t speak Russian, I know nothing about the culture, and then I’d still have to look over my shoulder for muggles whenever I’m out and about,” Harry pointed out, wanting his family to understand why that had never been an option for him. “I wanted the magical people of this world to have a safe magical haven, just like I was able to give to the magical people of Santika.”

“And it’s a noble goal,” Bernadine said while Henry nodded in agreement. “And I suppose we have to remember that we are dead and that ultimately things change in the world of the living with or without our input, as it should be.”

Lily floated over to Voldemort and glared down at him with narrowed eyes, lips pursed in a tight line, arms crossed. “If you harm one hair on the head of my son, I will find a way to make your life utterly miserable, even from beyond the grave. Mark my words.”

“I believe you,” Voldemort said with a solemn nod. “I have no desire to harm your son. He is not my enemy. He never was, as it turns out.”

“Talking about harming hair,” Charis said as she moved closer to Harry. “Is that my burn-salve? Did that dragon get a good shot in before you killed it?”

“Dumb beard gone!” V crowed, apparently unable to stop gloating about that.

“Indeed.” Charis gave Harry a large grin. “I suppose we’ll see in less than 24 hours how handsome you are these days.”

“Ugh.” Harry rolled his eyes and turned his back on his family. Every fucking time they had to make things embarrassing, no matter what was going on. While Harry was well aware that there were still things left unspoken and that without a doubt many more discussions would be had in the future about Harry’s new neighbour, for now at least a truce seemed to have been reached and that was all Harry cared about. “Rigel, come here! Let’s make you a dragon!”

“Yeah!” Rigel punched both fists in the air as he rushed towards the dragon’s body.

Harry walked around the circle one last time, making sure it was as it should be since he’d been interrupted a few times when creating it. He added the runes to activate it, sliced his palm with his pocketknife and pressed his bleeding hand against the runes to start the ritual. Harry held out his hands, pouring his power into the circle and into the dragon’s body.

“Get in there, Rigel!” Harry kept powering the circle until he’d charged it enough to transfer the magic into the dragon, slowly but surely restarting the heart and the brain and all the other organs. He was not animating anything, he was bringing life back into a dead body. Rigel’s soul found a spot to nestle into, but it wasn’t a very good fit, since the dragon’s original soul had been small and rudimentary and Rigel’s soul was big and human. Still, Harry manoeuvred it into place and managed to anker it down so it would sit comfortably enough in its new body.

The dragon inhaled a deep breath, eyelids fluttering while smoke streamed from its nostrils.

“Alright, there you go, Rigel. You’re a dragon. Congrats.” Harry lowered his hands, healing his palm with a quick gesture.

“Did he just resurrect a dragon in less than five minutes?” Regulus said in disbelief.

“And stuck a specific human soul into it,” Voldemort said with clear astonishment written all over his pale face.

“Once you know what you’re doing it’s easy enough,” Harry said with a shrug. “It took me a good long while to learn it, though, and I have mucked it up at some crucial points in the past.” Harry remembered how he’d failed to resurrect Rindyll after she’d been murdered. It was to that day Harry’s greatest failing in life, as least to Harry personally.

Rigel the dragon slowly got up, long neck swinging wildly, thick legs trembling as Rigel got used to his new body.

“Wow,” Sirius said, looking at his distant kin with a huge grin. “Now we’ve got a dragon guarding our borders.”

Rigel the dragon raised his massive head and released a deafening roar, followed by a stream of fire. Even though they all stood a good distance away they could still feel the heat of the flames.

“Just keep those flames away from any human structures,” Harry called out. “I’ve spent a lot of time moving and building everything. I don’t want to redo anything.”

Rigel nodded his head and then sat back on his haunches so he could flap his enormous wings. The wind it generated was so severe Harry had to brace himself for a moment as not to fall over. Rigel kept flapping and flapping his wings until he finally became airborne and he managed to rise a good six feet into the air before crashing down again with a loud thud.

“Just keep practicing.” Charlus called out, looking quite chuffed to see his son as a dragon. “You’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”

Harry’s stomach rumbled in a way that reminded him he hadn’t eaten in many hours, so Harry addressed his family. “I’ll see you all later.” And with a stroke of his thumb across his amulet, he sent them away. To Voldemort it would seem that Harry returned their souls to the beyond, but Harry simply turned them invisible and sent them back to their original spying missions. He’d let that slack these past weeks as he worried about his family’s reactions, and he knew that was a stupid thing to do considering Dumbledore’s willingness to harm Harry and his loved ones.

“I’m exhausted,” Harry said to the people that remained. “I’m going to eat something and then take a nap.”

“Come have dinner with us tonight,” Sirius said as they, too, got up. “At seven.”

“Sure.” Harry was about to walk back to his castle when Voldemort stepped into his path.

“When will we start my training to be able to do all of this?” Voldemort asked, looking down at Harry over his nose.

“Not today,” Harry said with a chuckle and deftly stepped around Voldemort. “First you need to learn Santireen. All the books you need to read are written in it.”

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. “Give me a week.”

“You know where to find me when you’re ready,” Harry called and then he hurried away before anyone else would try to stop him. Once inside his castle, Harry made a beeline for the kitchen and heated up some soup he’d made earlier that week.

“Went well,” V cawed while Harry served him his own bowl of soup at the kitchen table.

“It certainly could have gone a lot worse,” Harry agreed before eating several large spoonfuls of soup. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until just now.

“Dragon good.” V flapped his wings. “Dragon keep safe.”

“Yeah, we really do have some formidable defences now, between Rigel and Keket. And in a month we’ll have a basilisk as well, though I imagine that’s best left as a very last defence, since I don’t think it can distinguish between friend and foe easily when using its deadly gaze.”

Harry finished his food and then trudged up the stairs and was almost asleep before his head hit his pillow. He napped for almost three hours and spent the rest of the afternoon performing chores in his castle and starting the construction of his own grounds. Until now Harry’s castle was surrounded by nothing but meadows, but Harry did want to turn his land into functioning grounds, so he started mapping things out, taking his time to decide what he wanted to create around his castle.

When Harry arrived at Black Manor later that day, Sirius greeted him with an amused smile. “You missed all the excitement this afternoon.”

Harry arched a single eyebrow in response.

Sirius laughed, throwing his head back. “The whole of Spellbridge, all four streets of it, panicked this afternoon when Rigel finally figured out how to fly and flew right over their heads. He even knocked the chimney off someone’s house.”

“He did not,” Harry said, unable to hold back a grin.

“He did. Remus went to explain to the good people of Spellbridge that this was a friendly dragon. And then he scolded Rigel and told him to be more careful. I never knew dragons could look guilty and remorseful.”

“I am sad I missed that,” Harry said with an amused shake of his head. “But I guess almost getting burned alive took it out of me and I needed to recharge.”

“Understandable,” Sirius said just as they reached the dining room where Regulus and Remus were waiting. “So when is that salve coming off? We’ve been making bets how much you’ll look like James or not without that beard.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re just going to have to be surprised tomorrow.”

They enjoyed a delicious roast dinner prepared by Kreacher, who insisted in personally looking after his beloved Master Regulus. The elixir really had jumpstarted Regulus’ recovery and he looked well on the way to being a healthy person again, but he was still far too thin. Thankfully, his appetite had returned and he ate generous portions of everything, so Harry figured he’d be back to his old self soon enough.

“Do you want a house for yourself?” Harry asked Regulus while they were enjoying some trifle for dessert. “Or do you want me to move a house here for you?”

Regulus shook his head. “I’m fine here. Sirius has already offered me the east wing for myself. And Kreacher will be emptying Grimmauld Place for us.” Regulus tilted his head as he looked at Harry. “All magic is allowed here, correct?”

Harry nodded. “Correct.”

“And you were planning to open a public library?”

“Yes. I’ve got part of the building up already, just have to fill it out inside and add furniture.” Harry gave Regulus a curious look. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because Grimmauld Place has an extensive library, but many books in it are also found in the library here in the Manor,” Regulus said and then seemed a bit embarrassed all of a sudden. “I’d be happy to donate these duplicates, and I’d also be happy to run the public library.”

“You’re hired,” Harry said with a grin. It would be a great job for Regulus to start off with. He’d be able to take it easy at first, get to know the locals, and Harry had no doubt Regulus would take good care of the books. “I’ve been meaning to collect books for Magica’s library.”

Remus chuckled. “Are you planning on buying out the second-hand bookstores in Diagon Alley?”

Harry blinked and then shrugged as he finished his trifle. “I could do that, too, I suppose. But I was actually thinking of copying Hogwarts’ library.”

“Aren’t those books protected against copying charms?” Sirius asked while glancing at Remus, who nodded in response.

Harry’s smile was sly while he leaned forward. “But are they protected against Santireen magic?”

Remus’ eyes widened while his mouth sank open. “Harry… that would be an amazing coup, to steal Hogwarts’ library right from under Dumbledore’s nose without him even noticing.”

Harry laughed while leaning back in his seat. “As a champion, I have access to Hogwarts as long as the tournament goes on. It’s in the rulebook. Even if he wanted to, Dumbledore can’t shut me out of the castle. I’ll start on it later this week.”

They had brandy in the family sitting room, where a newspaper lay on the coffee table that proclaimed that Rita Skeeter, beloved reporter, was still missing without a trace.

V tilted his head as he stared at the newspaper while Harry sank down in a chair. “Dumb bug,” V cackled, bobbing up and down on Harry’s shoulder.

“Did he just say humbug?” Remus asked with a surprised look. “Have you been reading Dickens to him?”

“Dumb bug,” V cawed while glaring at Remus. “Dumb bug dead.”

Harry’s cheeks burned while he sipped his brandy.

“Harry,” Remus asked, finally connecting all the dots. “Did you have anything to do with Rita Skeeter’s disappearance?”

“Yeah, I know I said she was a horrible person, but doing away with her entirely might be taking things too far,” Sirius said while giving Harry a worried look.

“I had nothing to do with it,” Harry quickly said, holding up his glass of brandy as if that would ward off more uncomfortable questions. “I swear it.”

“Eat bug, eat bug,” V cawed, sounding more than a little proud.

“Bug? As in an actual bug?” Regulus asked while he stared at V in disbelief.

Harry decided to reveal the truth because he didn’t like the looks his friends were giving him. “Apparently, Skeeter was an Animagus. A beetle. She was stupid enough to land on my arm before I had that talk with Barty as Moody. I wanted to brush her off, since I sensed her human soul, but V ate her before I could stop him.”

“Dumb bug dead!”

“I didn’t know it was her,” Harry said defensively. “But now that I do know, it’s no loss to society. She had an utterly disgusting soul.”

“That is how she always came up with all those scoops,” Sirius said while gesturing at Remus. “She spied on people as an actual bug.”

“Bit stupid,” Regulus said in between sips of his glass of brandy. “Almost anything will eat a bug.”

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed and then he suddenly turned towards Harry. “This reminds me, I had a chat with James the other day, that you were never able to become an Animagus in the past because you didn’t have the right supplies for that in Santika.”

“That’s right,” Harry said, remembering how his family had urged him to try to find his inner animal even without all the necessary magical supplies he’d need, but it had never amounted to anything and Harry had given up on the idea entirely a long time ago.

Sirius gave Harry a huge grin. “Well, you can get anything you need to become an Animagus now, and I can help you.”

Harry perked up. He had always loved the idea of being able to turn into an animal, especially after hearing his dad’s many stories about the Marauders and their illegal ventures into the Forbidden Forest while in their animal forms. “Yeah, okay, I’d be happy to give that another try, a proper try this time.”

“I’ll get you some books,” Sirius said with a satisfied smile.

Regulus cleared his throat. “Could I also…”

Sirius suddenly looked a little misty-eyed as he nodded at his brother. “Sure, Reggie, I’ll teach you as well.”

Harry spent another pleasant hour at Black Manor before heading back to his castle and going straight to bed. The next morning he took a long shower, washing all the sticky green paste off his face and body, revealing freshly healed pink skin underneath. Once he was dried he stood in front of the mirror and inspected his hair. There were a few big chunks burned off on his right side, right above shoulder height, so Harry got his wand and carefully sliced off all his hair at that height so it looked somewhat even again. But then he thought that looked weird, to have his thick hair hanging just below his ears without his beard there, which somehow made his neck look really thin, and so Harry tied his hair back into a low ponytail and then inspected his reflection.

That did look better. At once Harry looked much younger than before but that was probably fine since most people assumed he was around 28 or so. Now his face matched that assumption a bit better. And if he got tired of this look he could always grow his hair and beard back.

“Look good,” V cawed while he inspected Harry’s new look with a critical gaze. “Dumb beard gone.”

“You’re never letting this go, are you?” Harry sighed and went in search of some clothes.

The first order of business was supplying Rigel with a steady stream of food lest he start munching on Harry’s precious Shetland ponies, so Harry went in search of his natural development officer.

“You never said there was going to be a dragon,” Rachel said, looking wide-eyed and a bit panicked as she opened her door for him. “How am I supposed to arrange for enough animals for it to eat?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Harry said as he seated himself at Rachel’s kitchen table. Rachel made tea for them though her hands trembled slightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention adding a dragon sooner.”

“The Prophet this morning announced that your dragon went missing during the tournament,” Rachel said as she served Harry a steaming cup of tea. “It’s not much of a mystery where it went for us.” Rachel sat down opposite him and suddenly smiled. “I like your new look, by the way. Now help me feed the dragon before it decides to eat us all.”

After some discussion they decided to simply expand the sheep population so Rigel could eat as much as he needed.

“But the Soay sheep are a very rare breed,” Rachel argued, armed with her collection of second-hand muggle books on sheep breeding and rearing. “If we introduce other breeds they will produce mixed breed lambs and ruin the lines.”

Harry sipped his tea and shrugged. “I don’t care about keeping the Soay sheep pure. I care about creating a hardy breed of sheep that can live freely on the island, graze the meadows and serve as food for Rigel.”

“Who’s Rigel?”

“The dragon.” Harry grinned at Rachel’s incredulous look.

“You’ve named it.” Rachel shook her head as though she was terribly disappointed in Harry while rapidly paging through a big book of sheep breeds. “We should introduce some hair sheep rams.”

“Hair sheep?”

Rachel nodded vigorously. “Hair sheep are sheep that shed their wool without needing shearing. That’s what you want in a wild sheep. We can get ewes of several primitive breeds so they can all breed together and we can select the best offspring and serve the rest to the dragon.”

“That’s a great plan for the future,” Harry said with an agreeable nod. “But that won’t feed Rigel right now.”

Rachel gave Harry a steady look. “Buy a flock of mules.”

“Mules?” Harry frowned in confusion. “You want to feed Rigel horses and donkey crosses?”

Snorting, Rachel shook her head. “Mules are mixed breed meat sheep that are raised up for slaughter.”

“Ah, okay, that works.” Harry reached inside his satchel and pulled out a bag of gold which he slid across the table. “Get a large flock of those because I have no idea yet how much Rigel eats.”

“I’ll bring the receipts,” Rachel said with a toothy smile.

After Harry finished his tea he strolled across Spellbridge towards Elder Street where Erika and Claire Keller-Mcintosh lived, an enterprising couple who had started a small furniture business. They bought cheap timber offcuts from sawmills in Britain and transfigured those into practical wooden furniture, everything from dining tables to bedframes. They’d built a simple but effective workshop and showroom combo in their backyard and were even offering people to pay for their furniture in small instalments, since plenty of werewolves who moved to Magica hadn’t had steady jobs in a long time and therefore didn’t have much gold to spend.

“I’d like to commission library shelves,” Harry told Erika and Claire, who looked eager enough to accept the job. “Go to Black Manor and ask for Regulus. He’s our new librarian.”

With that out of the way, Harry decided to drop into Remus at the Town Hall to help with a new batch of residents that were arriving before putting the finishing touches on the library building itself.

“Harry!” Remus beamed at Harry when he saw him enter. “Merlin, you do look like James, but I see plenty of Lily in your face as well.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said, ducking his head. “It feels weirdly cold without my beard, especially my neck.” Harry rubbed his neck self-consciously.

“You’ll get used to it.” Remus shuffled some papers around on the desk while the sound of a portkey outside announced the first new resident of the day.

“Quirinius Quirrell,” the man who entered said, making Remus look up in surprise.

“I came across some of your notes last year when I taught defence at Hogwarts,” Remus said conversationally as he handed Quirrell the necessary contracts to read.

“Indeed?” Quirrell read through the papers. “Is there going to be a school here, too? I wouldn’t mind teaching again.”

“Eventually,” Harry replied. “Right now we’ve got about 35 residents and none of them are kids.”

“Then I shall be patient,” Quirrell said and then added, when Remus offered him an address, “I shan’t need a home. I live in Marvolo Gaunt’s mansion.”

Harry blinked, heart skipping a beat.

“Oh, we didn’t realize Mr Gaunt lived with someone else,” Remus said pleasantly while Harry stared at the man with wide eyes.

“I’ve lived with him for well over two years now,” Quirrell said while signing the paperwork. “I just had to put my own affairs in order before moving here.”

So Voldemort lived with another guy, and had done so for years?

What the fuck?

Harry did not like the sound of that but he had no idea why.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23

Harry was rather distracted while the next few new residents arrived, though he wasn’t sure what was bugging him. He did have a lot on his mind, with a mile-long to-do list that was filled with urgent tasks, so perhaps it was simply that.

The arrival of Mildred Fletcher shook Harry out of whatever was keeping his mind occupied. Mildred was a short woman in her late fifties, with curly brown hair streaked with grey, who was accompanied by her son Frank, a fairly newly infected werewolf who was in his twenties.

“Is there a post office?” Mildred asked while Frank read through all the paperwork. “It’s just that our screech owl Dumpy died just last month. She was an old gal, such a lovely bird. We haven’t gotten around to getting a new owl yet, but I do send weekly letters to my sister in Oakmoore on Wye, and she’ll get awfully worried if I stopped corresponding with her all of a sudden.”

Harry blinked a few times to process that sudden stream of information. “I’ll make a post office, that’s no problem. But if your sister is magical, wouldn’t it be easier for her to move here?”

Mildred gave Harry a sad little smile. “My sister’s magical, yes, but she’s married to a muggle, a very nice man, Herbert Nieves. My sister lives mostly as a muggle, to be honest, she prefers that, and she’s very active with the Oakmoore on Wye Woman’s Institute, she’d never leave that behind.”

“Alright!” Harry said quickly, to cut her off. Mildred seemed like a lovely lady but Harry’s ears were practically ringing at that point. “Post office it is!”

“I’d like to try farming,” Frank Fletcher replied when Remus asked him what he’d like to do. “My muggle grandfather was a farmer, and I always enjoyed spending my childhood holidays there, riding on the tractor with him.”

“We need farmers desperately,” Harry said, giving Frank an encouraging smile. “I can lease you for free, say 100 acres to grow wheat, to start with. You can work the land and after the harvest you have to pay 20 percent of any earnings back to Magica.”

Frank gave Harry a thoughtful nod. “Yeah, that seems like something I could do.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” And Harry was very glad to hear that because while people could easily grow a lot of fruit and vegetables themselves around their homes, crops like wheat and other grains could really only be grown on a much larger scale to make it worthwhile.

Remus sent the new residents to Chestnut Drive, to occupy the last available house there after Frank signed the lease for the agricultural land.

The last new resident for that day was a young man in his late twenties with short blond hair and bright blue eyes. “Billy Malone,” he said in a thick Irish accent. “I’m not a werewolf, but me mate Shaun is, and he told me to move here.” Billy gave Harry a cheeky wink. “I’m a muggleborn and openly gay, and as it turns out lots of the conservative folk in magical Britain don’t like to hire people like me. I’ve been bartending in muggle pubs in Kilkenny since finishing Hogwarts.”

“You are more than welcome here,” Remus assured him with a warm smile, handing over the necessary paperwork.

“Is there a bank here or something?” Billy asked once he’d read and signed the contracts. “I’d like to get a loan to open a pub. Shaun said anyone could open a business here, and that you didn’t have a pub yet.”

“We don’t have a bank yet,” Harry said, as he looked Billy over a time or two. He was a good-looking young man, more cute than handsome, and he kept offering Harry rather suggestive looks. “But I’m more than willing to offer you a small, interest-free loan to get you started in your business.”

“Would you?” Billy’s grin was almost blinding. “I’ve got some savings, but buying inventory for a pub will be costly. Sign me up for a commercial building then.”

“The storefronts have space for a flat above them,” Harry pointed out. “If you choose to live there instead of in a separate house, I’ll give you the storefront on a housing contract. That way you won’t have to pay rent.”

Billy agreed at once. “Deal. Can you show me what property it is exactly, mate?” This was all said with the kind of look Harry had seen hundreds of times before.

“I’d be more than happy to,” Harry said, ignoring Remus’ quiet chuckle. Remus was far too observant for his own good. “This way.”

“No,” V cawed while he gave Billy a fierce glare. “No.”

“Fuck off,” Harry grumbled while he led Billy across town square to a large storefront that stood empty still. “If you don’t want to watch, then wait outside.”

V flapped his wings, hitting Harry repeatedly against the side of his head.

“Real mature, V,” Harry whispered while giving his companion a shove, almost pushing him right off his shoulder.

“Dumb man, dumb man,” V cawed loudly in Billy’s direction before finally flying off Harry’s shoulder and landing on one of the nearby buildings so he could glare at Harry with narrowed eyes.

“Sorry about that,” Harry said with an apologetic smile while he preceded Billy into the empty store. “This is the largest store I’ve got available.”

“Aye, this will be perfect,” Billy said as he walked across the empty space.

“It needs work, obviously.” Harry stood against one of the side walls, glancing around the empty space. “I can introduce you to Erika and Claire, who know where to find cheap timber offcuts to transfigure into bar furniture.”

“I am good at transfiguration,” Billy said as he approached Harry with a tilt of his head, letting his eyes roam across Harry’s body. “I’m good at other things, too.”

“I thought you might be,” Harry agreed with a chuckle. “Why don’t you get on your knees and show me?”

“That would be my pleasure, mate.” And without pause, Billy dropped to his knees in front of Harry, opened Harry’s linen trouser, took his hardening cock out and sucked it into his mouth.

Harry leaned his head back against the wall, one hand sliding through Billy’s hair. It had been far too long since Harry had enjoyed sex of any kind, so when the opportunity presented itself, Harry wasn’t going to deny himself this simple pleasure. Harry enjoyed fucking women, had fucked plenty in his long life, but he really appreciated the uncomplicated way men could have sex with each other just for the sake of exchanging orgasms without it needing to mean anything more than that.

Billy was good at sucking cock, and Harry stared down at him with a smile, but as he watched Billy’s head bob up and down, something struck him as off about the whole situation. The blowjob was fine, Billy got him off just fine, but it still lacked something. Harry squeezed his eyes shut after he came down Billy’s throat.

“You like that?” Billy asked, licking his lips as he stood up again.

“Yeah, come here.” And without wasting any time, Harry reached for Billy’s trousers, yanked them open and gave Billy a quick hand-job. It didn’t take long for Billy to come.

“Ta, mate,” Billy said as he put himself back to rights.

“Yeah, you too,” Harry said, offering Billy a quick smile. “I’ll be in the library for the rest of the morning, if you have any questions.”

“Sure. See you later.” Billy went back to admiring the empty space where his pub was going to be while Harry strolled out the door.

V flew down to land on Harry’s shoulder at once while giving him a frankly disgusted look. “Dumb dick, dumb dick.”

Harry briefly closed his eyes and shook his head. V had always been a temperamental companion, prone to bouts of sudden jealousy, but he’d never actually insulted Harry’s penis before. “I’ve got needs, V.”

“Dumb dick.”

“Fine, my dick is dumb,” Harry said with a chuckle. “It’s also been expertly sucked, which it needed, I assure you.”

“Dumb dick.”

Harry wasn’t lying, though. His cock had needed a bit of attention, more than Harry’s own hand could provide. But while having his cock sucked had cleared Harry’s mind a little, there was still a lingering feeling of distraction that Harry studiously chose to ignore. He had a library to get ready.

The library was the tallest building in town square with three stories. Town Hall only had two, just like all the other buildings. The outer walls were finished but the inside was still utterly bare, so Harry got to work on creating inner walls, ceilings, and staircases. He installed public bathrooms on each floor, and a private area for the staff to take breaks. Then he transfigured the bare stone floors into soft grey carpets, giving the whole building a more welcoming look. He added light fixtures that he inscribed with simple runes that could be turned on and off with a single tap of a wand. Lastly he transfigured the simple, solid wooden front door in much more attractive double doors with large glass panels in them, and above it he inscribed ‘SPELLBRIDGE PUBLIC LIBRARY’ right into the white stone.

That would do for now. Regulus could take over from here, put a reception desk wherever he wanted, get the shelving in and start filling the whole building with books.

Harry apparated home for a quick lunch of a few sandwiches and two cups of tea, and then he went back to town square for yet another job that needed doing. Harry selected one of the smaller empty storefronts and inscribed ‘SPELLBRIDGE POST OFFICE’ in the stone before he went inside to create the necessary furniture. Harry transfigured a large stone counter that ran across most of the length of the store. He turned the top of it into a smooth wooden board. He added wooden benches along the other side, where people could sit, with small side tables where they could write if needed. Behind the counter, Harry added a few wooden perches along the length of the store, where owls could sit. In the back he created a few large, square window that opened easily and would allow owls in and out quickly without having to fly through the visitor part of the store.

When that was all done, Harry strolled to Chestnut Drive, where he found Mildred and Frank busily unpacking their furniture and decorating their new home.

“I’ve got the post office ready,” Harry told a beaming Mildred. “Just need to go buy some owls. I’d like you to run the post office.”

“Me?” Mildred clutched a hand to her chest in shock. “Why?”

“You seem like a very lovely lady who’d do a good job of it,” Harry said with an easy smile. “For now, there won’t be much work to do yet, aside from looking after the owls. But as our community grows, so will the number of customers.”

“I could knit while sitting in the post office, I suppose,” Mildred mused as she stared over Harry’s shoulder at nothing at all. “I love knitting and I’d been meaning to start knitting comfy jumpers and vests and socks, and perhaps sell them or trade them.”

“That would work,” Harry agreed quickly. “I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”

Mildred looked like she wanted to protest, but Harry beat her to it. “You’ll be running my business for me, Mildred. So you’ll get paid, end of story.”

“Oh, fine.” Mildred’s cheeks coloured a rosy red but she did seem quite happy with her new job.

And Harry was happy he had his first personal business set up. That was something he’d done in Sildar as well, when he’d first created that community. Harry was more than happy to pour gold into the community as it was developing, but Harry’s big pile of gold wasn’t endless, so Harry had also opened up a few small businesses that eventually became profitable and added some gold back to Harry’s depleted pile. And that was exactly what he hoped would happen with the post office as well. It would take a while for their population to grow, but eventually there would be enough inhabitants that the post office would earn Harry a bit of profit at the end of the day.

Harry quickly apparated to Britain to visit Diagon Alley and the Owl Emporium where he bought five young owls. Two barn owls, two tawny owls and one large eagle owl. That seemed more than enough to start off with. He’d let Mildred name them, as she would be their main caretaker, and if she needed more owls in the future, Harry would buy more, simple as that.

Harry also popped into the Diagon Alley Post Office to see what their prices were like and what other services they offered. They even had a helpful brochure that the kind, elderly gentleman behind the counter offered him, and Harry happily stuck it in his pocket before he went in search of any second-hand bookstore he could find.

While Harry was tempted to just buy the whole collection of books in the first second-hand bookstore he found, he figured that might be a bit much, since Regulus was bringing in large amounts of books, and Harry would soon be copying the entire Hogwarts library. So instead Harry simply bought every book they had on vegetable gardening, farming, raising livestock and all different types of construction and home improvement. There was also a nice selection on magical crafts and trades which he figured would also be helpful for people looking for ways to make a living.

The clerk behind the counter didn’t blink an eye while he rang up Harry’s small mountain of books, for which Harry was more than grateful because he wasn’t in the mood to answer any questions. The longer they could keep Magica a secret, the better. Harry was just glad that Magica had finally been moved to beyond any economical zones and was now officially its own nation that couldn’t be claimed by anyone else.

After dropping the owls off at the post office and the books at the library, Harry went home, already exhausted and the day wasn’t even over.

“Igor, bring me wine!” Harry bellowed as he sank down behind his desk in the library.

“Eurgh!”

Harry pulled several sheets of paper close to go over his many to-do lists while Igor put a bottle of wine at his elbow. Harry quickly poured himself a glass while he crossed off a few items from his list, only to add about a dozen more.

He really needed to get help.

“Rain, rain,” V cawed from his perch while he stared out the window. Harry glanced over his shoulder. It had indeed started raining, and thick drops coated his windows as it poured buckets outside.

“That’s good for the trees, V,” Harry said, leaning back in his chair while he sipped his wine. It felt strange, consuming food and drink without his beard. Before, he’d always been conscious about his beard and moustache, to make sure he didn’t smear foodstuffs all over them, but now he could be as adventurous as he wanted to be when tipping his glass back.

Maybe V did have a point about that beard.

As Harry read over his many lists, he spotted something that would certainly help him with his impossibly busy schedule. Raising the Black family’s dead house-elves as inferi.

At once, a renewed burst of energy had Harry sitting up straighter. He could turn every dead house-elf he could find into inferi and have them work on his castle’s grounds and build more roads and farm more land. It was a little late now, since it was almost dinnertime and the sun was setting rapidly. Besides, he had promised Voldemort to take him along when he raised the elves, so perhaps this could be a job for the next day.

A loud bang that made the whole castle shake made Harry spill his wine all over his lists. Another bang followed, and another, as though something very large was trying to bring down Harry’s front door.

“Loud beast, loud beast,” V cawed while quickly hopping onto Harry’s shoulder. Even Keket, who’d been napping on her favourite bearskin rug, jumped up and followed Harry to the entrance hall.

Carefully, unsure what he’d find, Harry opened the door.

Rigel the dragon sat on Harry’s lawn, soaking wet, rain pouring off his large wings in streams, head bent while giving Harry a most pitiful look.

“Ah, crap, Rigel, I’m sorry,” Harry said at once while V cackled with laughter on Harry’s shoulder.

“Wet beast, wet beast!”

Rigel hung his head even more, looking as miserable as a dragon could possibly ever look.

Harry thought for a moment before coming up with a good solution. “How about I make you some comfortable, dragon-sized caves in the side of the mountain.”

Rigel raised his head a little, orange eyes widening in a hopeful look.

“We can call that mountain Mount Dragonstone from now on,” Harry said, warming up to the subject. “And it will be your official home from now on.”

Nodding his large head up and down a few times, Rigel raised himself up and flapped his enormous wings, sending puddles of water flying.

“Let me get my cloak.” Harry quickly pulled his still singed cloak on and then stepped outside. “I’ll apparate there.”

Rigel quickly stepped closer to Harry and lowered his upper body.

Harry frowned. “What?”

Shoving his shoulder against Harry carefully, Rigel gave Harry an expectant look.

“Oh. Yeah. Let’s fly, cousin.” Harry climbed on top of the dragon’s wet back, and he quickly scooted forwards when Keket jumped up behind him. V settled right in front of Harry, wings spread a little to help keep his balance. Rigel spread his large wings and hobbled along the slippery meadow while flapping his wings furiously. For a moment it seemed that they might crash when Rigel slipped a little on the wet ground, but he corrected himself in time and the next thing Harry knew they were flying.

And flying on a dragon’s back was very different than flying on a broomstick. Keket roared with excitement, since this was her first time flying, ever, while V was grumbling critique under his breath. And Harry just relaxed and enjoyed the ride, even though the rain was pouring down, soaking him in minutes.

Rigel took his time flying around the whole island, giving Harry the full tour, and even though it was dusk and darkening quickly they still saw plenty below them. The four streets of Spellbridge had houses with lights shining behind their windows, and it gave Harry a very warm feeling that there were people, his people, now living safe and sound in those homes. Voldemort’s home was also lit up, as was Black Manor.

Below them they saw the sheep huddled together while the Scottish Highland coos kept grazing as if barely even noticing the rain. Harry’s precious Shetland ponies seemed rather intimidated by a dragon flying overhead and started galloping across the lush meadows in a mild panic.

And Harry felt a swell of emotions in his chest at seeing his new land, his new country.

His new life.

At once he felt an intense longing for Sildar, for his family and friends there, but at the same time he was also filled with excitement at the idea of developing Magica further.

After a good half hour, Rigel landed on the side of the mountain. Well, it was more like crashing with style, but they all made it out alive without any injuries and that’s what counted. A soaked Harry wasted no time and started transfiguring a whole network of large caves into the side of the mountain. He inscribed runes in the walls to keep the caves at a comfortable temperature year round, and he added lots of transfigured straw to one of the caves in the back so Rigel would have a nice, soft nest to sleep on.

Rigel nodded with approval and settled down in his new home immediately. Harry said his goodbyes and apparated back home, pulling V and Keket with him.

The ride on the dragon had been an immense amount of fun, but it had also chilled him to the bone thanks to the downpour.

“Igor, run me a bath!”

“Eurgh!”

Harry heated up a simple bowl of leftover stew, grabbed his bottle of wine, and then sat in the warm water while he ate his dinner as V chattered at him about this thing or that. Afterwards, Harry decided to call it a night and settled into bed, V on his headboard and Keket stretched out beside him. Harry had held back a few books to read before donating them to the library, and he read about the upkeep of magical orchards until his eyes drooped shut.

The next morning, a well-rested Harry strolled over to Voldemort’s mansion for their inferi playdate.

Quirrell answered the door. “May I help you?”

Harry felt strange again at seeing that man sharing a house with Voldemort. “I’m going to raise house-elves from the dead and I thought Voldemort would like to join me.”

Quirrell blinked at Harry a few times before slowly turning around. “Just a moment please.”

Turning his back to the door, Harry waited not so patiently until finally Voldemort appeared.

“I’d love to join you while you –“ Voldemort snapped his mouth shut when Harry turned around.

Harry slowly raised both eyebrows when Voldemort remained mute for a few long moments. Finally Voldemort cleared his throat. “You look…different.”

“Ah, yeah.” Harry ran a hand down his bare chin and throat. “That’s to be expected when losing 20 pounds of hair.”

“Indeed.” Voldemort kept giving Harry strange looks after pulling the door closed behind him. “Let’s do the house-elves…I mean, I will gladly observe how you turn a house-elf into an inferius.”

“Good.” Harry descended the steps towards the elaborate garden while Voldemort hurried after him. “The house-elves are buried near Sirius’ lake, beside a large beech tree.” V took off from Harry’s shoulders, taking this opportunity to stretch his wings and fly along with them high in the sky.

“Have you considered adding paved streets?” Voldemort said once they reached the meadows that were soaking wet from the rain that had poured down for most of the night. “Or at least a decent footpath.”

“Why do you think I’m reanimating the house-elves?” Harry said with a chuckle at Voldemort’s disgruntled remarks. “There is so much to do, still, but the house-elves will be able to do parts of it.”

“I would be happy to help as well, if you let me know what needs doing,” Voldemort offered with a perfectly charming smile.

“You’d plant an orchard for me beside my castle?” Harry asked and then bit his lip to hide a grin at seeing Voldemort’s face scrunch up in distaste.

“Well, perhaps not any menial tasks,” Voldemort said delicately.

“Actually, I do have a job for you,” Harry said, remembering his long, long to-do list. “It’s not needed quite yet, but I would like you to design a schooling system for Magica.”

Voldemort slowed his pace as his expression turned thoughtful. “What sort of schooling system?”

“In Sildar, we had small primary schools in each town, where kids learned their letters and numbers, and a bit of biology and history, some basic runes, that sort of thing. When they turned twelve, they attended the national school for magic, which was a weekday boarding school that allowed them to go home on the weekends. They finished that when they turned 18, and after that they could apprentice themselves to someone if they wanted to specialize in certain subjects. Or they could go and work if they wanted.”

Voldemort nodded along. “That sounds perfectly reasonable. What do you expect me to change about it?”

Harry turned to look at Voldemort as he sighed. “Magica isn’t Sildar, so I’d like for you to make this work with the subjects that are taught here, and the means of transportation we have, and anything else you can think of.”

“I can certainly do that,” Voldemort agreed while he looked Harry in the eyes.

“No hurry, though,” Harry felt compelled to point out.

“I shall take my time.” Voldemort kept looking into Harry’s eyes, his mouth pulling up in a charming smile. “Have you considered my offer again, Harry? I would still love to take you to the Yule Ball.”

Harry groaned and rubbed a hand across his face. “I already said no.”

“That was two days ago.” Voldemort gave a casual shrug. “So your answer might very well have changed.”

Harry wanted very much to tell Voldemort that it really, really hadn’t, but if he was honest with himself, he wouldn’t mind using the Yule Ball to go and rescue a basilisk. He just didn’t feel like parading himself around at a ball for the whole world to see.

Voldemort took Harry’s silence as a refusal because he gave Harry an almost pleading look. “I don’t know how else to save my old friend, Harry. I had hoped my new friend would be happy to help me.”

Oh, that manipulative old snake. Harry ducked his head to hide his grin. Voldemort may think he was being subtle, but he really, really wasn’t. But apparently he had figured out that Harry was the type of guy who would much sooner offer something freely to a friend than give into any bribery attempts. Still, this was something Voldemort obviously wanted very much, so perhaps Harry shouldn’t just offer it up for free.

Perhaps Harry simply had to take a page out of a Slytherin’s playbook.

“I will go to the Yule Ball with you and help you rescue the basilisk,” Harry said, and quickly held up a finger when Voldemort suddenly looked triumphant. “But it comes at a price.”

Curiously, Voldemort’s triumphant expression didn’t diminish in the slightest. “Name your price.”

Harry stopped walking for a moment so he could give Voldemort his undivided attention. This was too good an opportunity to waste, so Harry figured he’d best ask for something very valuable. “I want you to swear that you will not try to actively or passively introduce your principles of blood-purity in Magica.”

Voldemort’s face became a blank mask almost instantly while his eyes shone with something as they stared at Harry. Something between admiration and fury, it seemed. Harry simply stared impassively back.

“I’m impressed,” Voldemort said after a few minutes of tense silence. “You impress me, Harry.”

“Thanks,” Harry said easily, still completely unmoved by Voldemort’s reaction.

“I need to give this some careful thought,” Voldemort finally said. “I suppose I will give you my answer before the ball.”

“That works for me.”

They continued their walk through the wet meadows, Harry’s trousers soaking through before he dried them with a charm and spelled them to be water resistant temporarily. Voldemort’s trousers appeared to be water resistant to begin with.

“Why do you require an orchard?” Voldemort finally asked, as if he only now remembered that part of an earlier conversation.

“As my part of growing food for the whole country because I own a large amount of land,” Harry explained. “Keeping an orchard is fairly simple, and you can even have people come and pick the fruit themselves in the fall.”

Voldemort frowned, deep in thought. “So that might work for my grounds as well.”

“I’m also going to keep some pigs, breed them and sell piglets,” Harry added and then laughed when Voldemort wrinkled his nose as though he suddenly smelled something foul. “Hey, I love bacon,” Harry added but that did nothing to improve Voldemort’s expression.

“I do believe I shall stick to trees,” Voldemort said with a decisive nod. “That seems more up my alley than livestock.”

“You don’t even want some chickens for eggs?” Harry asked, really curious about Voldemort’s revulsion when it came to farmyard animals.

“I suppose those are acceptable. Quirrell can look after them.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat and he realized this was his chance to figure out what Quirrell was to Voldemort. “Yeah, I was surprised to see someone moving in with you.”

Voldemort’s eyes crinkled while he glanced at Harry. “Were you?”

Harry gave a very exaggerated shrug. “You never mentioned a… companion.”

“Quirrell is to me what Igor is to you, Harry.” Voldemort sounded thoroughly amused. “But perhaps you have trouble recognizing a servant when they are still living and breathing.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed, inexplicably feeling very relieved. “Yeah, alright, you have me there. I do like my servants dead.”

“Hence the house-elf inferi,” Voldemort agreed with a chuckle.

They reached the lake behind Black Manor and Harry spotted a lone beech tree sitting close to the shore. Once Harry stood under the tree, he crouched down and stuck his hands into the dirt, sending out his powers through the soil, looking for the tell-tale feeling of death. He found three bodies that were usable, that still had at least the bones remain. Without bones, Harry couldn’t work. But any flesh that was missing was easily replaced by magic.

“There’s three,” Harry said as he pulled three tiny wooden boxes out of his satchel, enlarging them with a flick of his wand. Then he used his necromantic powers to raise the bodies from their graves, the dark soil rolling back and pushing the bodies up and up until they lay on top of the ground and Harry levitated them into their respective boxes.

“I keep being surprised by how effortless this all is for you,” Voldemort mused quietly as he stood to the side and watched Harry work, arms crossed casually. “Then again, as you have pointed out, I have been mistaken my whole life as to what a true necromancer is.”

Harry shrunk the boxes again and slid them into his satchel. “From what I’ve seen about necromancy in this world, I doubt there has been a real necromancer alive here for a very long time.”

“Well, that makes perfect sense if you consider that practically every country has banned necromancy on pain of death,” Voldemort said as though talking about he weather. “Very few people even dare to dabble in it, and those like me that have gone further down its dark path lack the guidance from experienced users.”

“Until now,” Harry pointed out, placing his hand on Voldemort’s shoulder before apparating them to the doorsteps of his castle. “We’ll use my main ritual room.”

“You don’t need a sacrifice?” Voldemort asked as he followed Harry down the steps to his cellar.

“No, just some of my blood.” Harry pulled one of the boxes out of his satchel and carefully transferred the dried husk of the elf’s body into the centre of the room. Then he walked around the room, activating the runes he needed. Finally he slashed his palm and pressed it down on the correct runes to activate the circle. This time, Harry stepped into the circle and smeared his blood across the elf’s body, before painting a few small runes onto the elf’s head and chest with it. Then he held out his hands and poured his powers into the dead flesh, urging it to expand, to become whole again. This time, though, he didn’t bring life back to any of the organs, as he’d done with the dragon. He simply poured his powers into the elf’s whole body, animating it like a puppet on a string.

The elf sat up, blinking large, pale eyes as it stared straight ahead.

“Your name is Violet,” Harry said, that name popping up in his mind since the elf’s skin looked rather purple. “You are my servant. You shall obey my every command.”

“Eep,” the elf said, still staring ahead.

“Rise, servant!” Harry gave one final push of power and the elf sprang to her feet, finally blinking up at Harry.

“Eep?”

“Go clean the bathroom and all the bedrooms upstairs,” Harry said, knowing that giving an inferius a simple command that they’d easily be able to perform was a necessary way of checking if everything had gone as it should.

“Eep!” And the undead house-elf popped out of there.

“Ha!” Harry said in triumph, happy to see that his gamble had paid off and that a house-elf inferius was still able to perform at least some magic.

Voldemort stood leaning against the back wall, head bent, arms crossed, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “It takes me three hours to raise one inferius, and it requires a significant animal sacrifice.” Voldemort looked up at Harry and shook his head in disbelief. “You did it in five minutes with just a bit of your own blood.”

“Watch me do two more,” Harry said with a teasing grin as he pulled out the next box.

“You make me feel like I am eleven years old again,” Voldemort said while Harry got the whole ritual going with the next elf. He sounded a bit frustrated, yet also thoroughly amused. “Like I am a fresh student just walking through the halls of Hogwarts, entirely clueless when it comes to the magic the older children are performing around me.” Voldemort gave Harry an unreadable look, brown eyes shining. “I have not felt this challenged since I was a child.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Harry offered as he activated the runes again. “To be challenged.”

“No,” Voldemort whispered, tilting his head as he stared at Harry. “It’s not.”

Before long Harry had two more house-elf inferi, which he named Lavender and Slate, also after the colours of their mottled skin. Harry sent them to clean the kitchen and the living room and was happy to see they too both popped away using magic.

Just then V came flying down the steps and into the room to land on Harry’s shoulder. “Mail, mail.”

“I thought you couldn’t be bothered with the post,” Harry said with a teasing smirk at his companion.

“Big mail!” V pecked at Harry’s ear, as though forcing him to pay better attention. “Big, big mail.”

Harry chuckled and waved his hand at V to stop it. “Well, we might as well have some tea in the library while we wait to see if the elves keep it together during their first tasks.”

“Some tea would be welcome,” Voldemort agreed and followed Harry to the library.

“Violet!” Harry called the moment they were seated in two comfortable chairs in front of the fireplace.

Violet popped in existence right in front of Harry. “Eep?”

“Bring us tea and some assorted sandwiches.”

“Eep!” And Violet popped out again.

“Mail, mail!” V flew to Harry’s desk, picked up a thick scroll and then returned and dumped it unceremoniously into Harry’s lap while he settled on Harry’s knee and stared up at him with narrowed eyes. Harry picked up the scroll, examining the wax seal while Violet appeared again and served them both tea.

While Voldemort stirred some milk and sugar into his cup, Harry opened the scroll and read it.

“Huh,” Harry said as he rolled the scroll up again.

Voldemort quirked an eyebrow as he sipped his tea carefully. The taste seemed good enough, because he took a second, bigger sip.

Harry looked at Voldemort with wide eyes. “That was Gringotts telling me I’ve inherited the Black vaults.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 24

Voldemort threw his head back and laughed for a few long moments, his cup of tea almost spilling in his lap. “I would pay good money to see the looks on the Black brothers’ faces when they realize they are penniless.”

Chuckling, Harry got out his wand. “I’m happy to give you that for free.” And then he cast his Patronus and a silvery barok shot out of Harry’s wand. “Tell Sirius that he’d better get his arse here right now because Gringotts is giving all his gold away.” With a nod the barok turned around and disappeared through the wall.

“Of course your Patronus would be one of those terrifying beasts,” Voldemort said, though he didn’t sound particularly frightened, even with Keket, the flesh and bone barok, sleeping twenty feet away.

“What’s yours?” Harry asked, wondering what sort of animal would represent the inner workings of a Dark Lord.

“I never bothered to learn that spell,” Voldemort said, waving his hand around in a dismissive gesture before going back to sipping his tea.

Harry tucked his wand away and picked up his own cup. “Why not? They’re dead useful to send quick messages.”

“Hmm.” Voldemort smiled in a way that made it seem he was hiding a secret that amused him a great deal. “I have other ways to quickly communicate with my followers.”

Ah, yeah, Harry remembered his family telling him that Lord Voldemort magically marked his followers. That must be what he was referring to. And while Harry would love to hear more about that kind of magic, he had more urgent matters to consider at that moment. “So I was planning to invite you to visit a fruit tree nursery this afternoon, to start on our orchards. But now it seems that I’ll be visiting Gringotts instead.”

“One does not have to exclude the other,” Voldemort pointed out.

“That’s true,” Harry said with a small frown. “I have been considering inviting the goblins to live in Magica and I won’t mind hearing your opinion on this. I have no experience with goblins, save for that one time I visited my vault after I’d just arrived here.”

Voldemort inhaled a deep breath, held it for a few moments and then exhaled slowly. “Now that is a unpredictable bag of kneazles you just opened.”

“How so?”

“You must understand, Harry, that goblins and wizards have been at war with each other for centuries, if not millennia. Yes, in between the wars there were truces and peace negotiations and moratoriums and cease-fires before inevitably a new conflict arose and both sides went back to fighting.” Voldemort chuckled at Harry’s wide-eyed look. “Everyone always complains about Professor Binns and his endless lectures about numerous goblin wars, but at least knowing something of our history does come in handy in situations like this.”

“If wizards are constantly fighting goblins then why on earth are you letting them control your money?” Harry asked in sheer astonishment.

“Because that is the one thing we agreed to let them keep, the monopoly on banking in the British wizarding world, while we stripped them of almost all their other rights.” Voldemort placed his empty cup on the table and seemed to really enjoy lecturing an eager listener like Harry. “There are plenty of other countries that also use goblins for banking, but there are also plenty who do not. They use gnomes, like Germany, Austria and Switzerland, or they have a wizard-run bank like Russia and most of South-America.”

“Okay,” Harry said with a thoughtful frown. “So we don’t have to use goblins to start a bank if we don’t want to.”

“We don’t,” Voldemort said, mouth curling up in a rather blood-thirsty grin. “Of course, since most of our residents to date are British, the goblins might very well claim that their right on a banking monopoly extends to Magica, and if we refuse they might declare war on us.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed. “I’d like to see them try.”

“They might very well die trying. Goblins love a good battle,” Voldemort said, still looking utterly amused by the notion of a brand new wizarding-goblin conflict. “Of course, we could easily sidestep any potential future conflict by offering them the opportunity to open a bank here while giving them back the rights that the British magical government stripped from them.”

“What rights are those exactly?” Harry asked, leaning forward a little out of sheer interest. While he’d wipe the floor with any goblins who even thought of attacking his new country, he didn’t want to go to war if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.

“The most important one is wand-rights,” Voldemort said, still more than happy to lecture away. “Another one is that goblins aren’t allowed to open any business that isn’t a bank. They’re also not allowed to live anywhere but the ministry-allocated sites, which is Gringotts in Diagon Alley. There’s more, but those are the main issues.”

Harry stared at Voldemort with his mouth opened in disbelief. “No wonder they’re constantly fighting with you lot. They’re not allowed to do anything.” Harry frowned in a way that clearly showed he was suddenly filled with determination. “So what do you think their response would be if we offered them all those rights back in Magica?”

Voldemort gave an almost careless shrug. “Then I suppose they’d at least be willing to open a bank here and perhaps even move some of their people here.”

“I could offer them a part of Magica where they could start their own community and build their own homes. And they’d be more than welcome to open up businesses alongside everyone else.” Harry looked up when he heard a faint knocking sound coming from the front of the castle, but the shuffling gait of Igor told him that his butler was answering the door.

Not long after, Sirius, Regulus and Remus hurried into the library.

“What’s with Gringotts giving away our gold?” Sirius asked, a little out of breath.

Harry simply picked up the scroll and handed it to Sirius, who opened it while Remus and Regulus read over his shoulders. “Those fucking goblins,” Sirius muttered, his eyes widening in a mild panic as he read through the whole letter.

“It’s not the goblins’ fault,” Remus said, quick to temper Sirius’ anger as usual.

“No, it’s the fucking ministry’s for killing me,” Sirius said, rolling the scroll back up with far too much force.

“So since both of us have officially died,” Regulus said in a quiet voice, his eyes opened a little too wide as well. “We’re now penniless and no longer own any property either.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Harry said, quickly giving his friends a reassuring smile. “I’m not keeping your gold. I’ll empty your family’s vaults this afternoon and drop the gold off at the manor. And I’ll happily sign all the property back over to you as well.”

Sirius did look rather relieved at hearing that while he released a shuddering breath. “Thanks, Harry.”

Harry waved his gratitude away. “It’s your family’s fortune, Sirius. I’ve got plenty of gold myself, I have no need for yours.”

“Keep Grimmauld Place for yourself, Harry,” Regulus said, much to Sirius’ obvious surprise. “Kreacher has already brought everything in it to the manor, so it stands empty. Or how about you sell it, and then use the gold you’ll get for it to help grow Magica.”

“Reggie,” Sirius said in a voice fraught with some very complicated emotions.

“Neither one of us had a happy life in that house,” Regulus said while giving his brother an even look. “I’d just as soon see it sold and the proceeds being put to a good cause.”

“Yeah, I think that’s an excellent idea,” Sirius said quietly.

Regulus turned to look down at Harry. “I would very much appreciate it if you could transfer ownership of Kreacher to me personally.”

“Sure,” Harry said at once, since he had no need for a living house-elf. “I’ll give you your elves back as well,” he added to Sirius, who seemed equally relieved to have his servants returned to him.

“Kreacher!” Regulus called and almost at once the old house-elf popped into the room, looking confused between Regulus and Harry.

“Master Regulus is no longer being master, how is this being possible.” Kreacher pulled hard on his own ears as he hung his head.

“Just tell me what to do,” Harry said, worrying the poor house-elf might hurt himself even more in his grief.

“Give him clothing,” Regulus said. “That’s the fastest way.”

Harry shrugged and conjured a black wool sock, which he all but shoved into Kreacher’s hands.

“No, no, no,” Kreacher muttered, staring at the sock in absolute horror.

“It’s okay, Kreacher,” Regulus said, crouching in front of the old elf and holding out his hand. “Would you be my elf?”

Kreacher nodded and grabbed Regulus’ hand, holding onto it like it was a lifeline.

“I declare you my house-elf, and myself your master,” Regulus said in a formal tone, though his eyes shone with happiness. “Do you accept, Kreacher?”

“Kreacher does.” At once both wizard and elf smiled and seemed relieved by their renewed bond. Harry realized there was still a lot about house-elves he didn’t know. As Hermione had pointed out in her well-argued essay, house-elves were essentially slaves, magically bound to their masters. But as Regulus and Kreacher had just proven, some were perfectly happy with that arrangement.

“Call your elves, Sirius,” Harry said, figuring they might as well get it over with.

“Dilby, Nelly, Ollie!” Three elves appeared, looking just as confused as Kreacher had.

Harry decided this was a great opportunity to learn about house-elves from actual house-elves instead of overeager Hogwarts students. “Hi, I’m your new master. Please tell me if you would prefer to be free instead of being bound to me or any other wizard.”

Dilby quickly shook his head, while looking at Harry as though he’d just told him to eat a pile of fresh hippogriff dung. “We is not wanting to be free elves! We is being good elves, doing good work for their families.” Nelly and Ollie looked just as disgusted by the idea while they stared at Harry with wide eyes.

“I’d give you a home and you could do whatever work you wanted to do, you’d just be free,” Harry tried again, wanting to make sure the elves weren’t just afraid to end up homeless on the street without a way to earn an income.

“No, Master,” Nelly piped up in a squeaky voice. “We is wanting to be part of a family we is serving.”

“Alright.” And much to the elves horror, Harry handed them socks as well, only for Sirius to jump in at once and bind the elves to himself, which caused poor Nelly to burst into tears out of happiness.

Once all the elves were sent back home again and Harry was even more confused than before about the whole house-elf conundrum, he gestured at some nearby chairs. “Sit down. Violet, tea for three, please!”

After everyone found seats around the coffee table, Violet popped in with a large tray.

Regulus’ mouth sank open. “Is that Sunny? Dilby’s mother? She’s been dead for twenty years.”

Remus simply sighed and shook his head at Regulus while Sirius looked a little disgusted at the idea of an undead house-elf serving him tea.

“Her tea is excellent,” Voldemort assured him while holding out his own empty cup for a refill.

“Her name is Violet now,” Harry said with a happy little smile. “So I have no need for living elves, as you can see. I’ve got plenty of them for myself.”

“There’s more?” Regulus asked in disbelief.

“Lavender and Slate. No idea what their names used to be.” Harry picked up his own newly refilled cup and sat back in his chair. Voldemort was the only one who didn’t look uncomfortable at the idea of an undead servant, and Harry was once again very glad he’d formed some sort of friendship with the man, because having people constantly thinking that the amazing magical feats you performed were disgusting got very old very quickly.

Tentatively, with pursed lips and trembling hands, Regulus picked up one of the little sandwiches Violet had served. He took a careful, very small bite and then his whole face lit up. “Sirius, you have to try these. They are the little cream cheese, walnut and honey sandwiches Sunny used to make.” And then Regulus devoured the rest of the sandwich and immediately went back for more.

Before long they were all enjoying the food Violet had provided, and it was indeed delicious and Harry did a little internal happy dance that he’d finally gotten his hands on a servant who could cook. Harry didn’t mind cooking for himself, had done it for most of his life, but it was a very nice idea to have someone around who could provide him with some elaborate, hot meals whenever Harry got too busy to look after himself, which was surprisingly frequently whilst building a country.

“Shall we visit Gringotts first?” Voldemort suggested after Violet had refilled the large plate of sandwiches three times and everyone had eaten their fill.

“Yeah, I need to get muggle money anyway,” Harry agreed and then added to Sirius. “Don’t worry, you’ll be filthy rich again by this evening. Write out some contracts for the transferal of property for me to sign. And you might want to prepare some secured storage in your manor for all the gold.”

“Yeah, we’ll come up with something.” And with a pat on Harry’s back, Sirius left, looking happily reassured he wasn’t suddenly poor and homeless.

V landed on Harry’s shoulder and they made their way outside where Voldemort put his hand on Harry’s other shoulder and apparated them to the apparition point in Diagon Alley.

Harry gave Voldemort a dubious look and leaned closer to him while some busy shoppers bustled around them. “Should you be looking like yourself out here in public?” Harry asked in a whisper, his breath ghosting across Voldemort’s ear.

“I’ve set up a new identity as my own illegitimate son, remember?” Voldemort offered Harry a cheeky little grin. “Besides, there are very few people who even know that this is what Voldemort used to look like.”

“Yeah, alright,” Harry easily agreed, assured they wouldn’t be jumped by a bunch of fanatical Aurors on their way to the bank. “Are you emptying any vaults as well?”

Voldemort shook his head. “I never had a Gringotts vault in the first place. In my line of work you never want to put your riches in a place where the ministry can easily find it.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m closing the Potter vaults as well,” Harry agreed in a quiet voice. He’d seen with his own eyes how corrupt the ministry was, not to mention Dumbledore might try to get control over Harry’s wealth under some ridiculous guise of guardianship since Harry knew so little about the wizarding world. There was no indication that Dumbledore would do something like that, but after what the old man had pulled with Sirius, Harry knew to expect the unexpected.

When Harry had inspected his vaults after he just arrived, with his parents by his side, there had been nothing amiss that they could see. But that didn’t mean Dumbledore or the ministry wouldn’t try to control Harry through his gold at some point in the future.

The security goblins at the entrance gave them both only cursory glances before waving them inside. There was a short line at the reception desk but it only took a few minutes before it was their turn.

The young goblin behind the desk barely looked at them. “State your business.”

“We would like to speak to Stormaxe,” Voldemort said as he leaned a little closer to the goblin, who gave him an utterly offended look.

“Our chief has better things to do than entertain two wizards who don’t understand their place,” the goblin said through gritted teeth.

Harry shrugged and gave the irate goblin a pleasant smile. “That’s fine. I’m Harry Potter and I’m here to empty and close the Potter and Black vaults.”

“No more gold,” V added in a sharp caw. “No more gold.”

The goblin’s eyes widened before he quickly slipped off his seat and hurried away. Harry and Voldemort exchanged an amused glance while they waited patiently. The goblin returned after five minutes and gestured at them to follow him. “Stormaxe will see you now.”

Harry and Voldemort quietly followed the goblin through a door in the back of the large hall, which led them through a few dimly-lit corridors until they stopped in front of two large, solid door, inlayed with countless shimmering gems. The young goblin pushed the door open and gestured for them to enter.

Stormaxe was an older goblin, his skin full of wrinkles and scars, but his eyes were bright and keen as he watched quietly as his guests entered.

“Mr Potter,” Stormaxe said the moment the doors closed again. “And Mr…?”

“Marvolo Gaunt,” Voldemort said smoothly, but Stormaxe gave him a narrow-eyed look that suggested he knew exactly who was standing in front of him.

“Please, gentlemen, take a seat.”

Harry sat down in the finely carved wooden chair while he looked around the ornate office, with intricate tapestries lining the wall and a desk that was more gold than wood.

“Hammerborn told me you are here to close your vaults,” Stormaxe said while giving Harry an even look. “Your business is your own, naturally, but if you don’t mind me asking, Mr Potter, why would you close your vault that your family has had with us for centuries.”

Harry offered Stormaxe a genial smile and for a moment he was tempted to use his public persona of bombastic loudmouth, but he figured that probably wouldn’t go over too well once he got to offering the goblins a place on Magica. “The reason why is very simple, and it has nothing to do with Gringotts’ service,” Harry said in a reasonable tone. “I am no longer a resident here in Britain, and thus it seemed a good idea to take my wealth with me to my new homeland.”

Stormaxe sat up a little, thick brows creasing as he tilted his head. “Then it might please you to know, Mr Potter, that Gringotts has banks in many countries, and that we could simply link your vaults here with one in a new country.”

“I am sorry to say that the country I’ve moved to does not have a local Gringotts office.”

This seemed to intrigue Stormaxe even more and he leaned forward to give Harry a curious look. “Might I ask why you’ve decided to leave Britain, and where you’ve moved to.”

“It’s hardly a mystery,” Harry said, evening his expression out until a hard mask remained. “The ministry murdered my godfather during a sham of a trial. I want nothing to do with this shithole of a country. And I’ve moved to Magica.”

Stormaxe blinked, and said almost on autopilot, “My condolences for your loss, Mr Potter. The Black family have always been valued customers.”

For a few long moments, no one said anything. Voldemort sat back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other while looking like he was watching a particularly interesting tennis match. And Harry simply stared at Stormaxe, to give the goblin time to process everything and draw his own conclusions. In his time, Harry had negotiated with Kings and Queens, and Warlords and religious leaders, and he’d learned that it was best to let the other party work for any information instead of simply dumping everything on the table right at the start. This way Harry had a much better position for any negotiations that would inevitably take place.

“I am not familiar with this country,” Stormaxe said carefully, looking between Voldemort and Harry, probably wondering why these two supposed enemies were sitting amicably side by side in his office.

“It is very new,” Harry said, finally allowing a smile back on his face. “Very few people have heard of it.”

Something dawned on Stormaxe’s face and his eyes grew wide. “Mr Potter,” he asked slowly, his voice only a whisper. “Did you… make a new country?”

Harry gave a long, slow nod. “In Santika, where I grew up, all magic was taught. Here in Britain, however, all magic I use on a regular basis is illegal. It seemed like the most effective solution to simply create a country that allows all magic in this world instead of trying to change a corrupt government.”

Stormaxe’s face did a few complicated things, shifting between amusement and curiosity but also a touch of fear. Then he cleared his throat. “Where is this country located?”

“In the Atlantic,” Harry said. “It is an island, currently about half the size of the Isle of Man, but I will add more land as needed once our community grows.”

“So it is not simply a private island for your own use,” Stormaxe mused.

“No, not at all. So far we’ve mostly got werewolves living there, aside from me and some friends. But we’re busy building houses and encouraging commerce, and our list of applications to move there grows every day.”

“And I assume that all the magic that you prefer to use is legal there,” Stormaxe concluded.

“No,” Harry said with a teasing smile. “All the magic, period, is legal there.”

Stormaxe’s eyes grew wide again.

Harry decided to throw out a bit of bait for the goblin chief. “All magic for all magical beings is legal there. Magica is its own country, beholden to no other laws. All that we care about is magic, all of it. And there are no immediate muggles, so no one needs to hide themselves the moment they leave their homes.”

Stormaxe fell back in his chair with a deep sigh, clearly overwhelmed with this new information. It amused Harry to no end that apparently the idea of a country that allowed all magic was such a shocking idea to all different kinds of people of the wizarding world. “This is unprecedented,” Stormaxe muttered, shaking his head. “I am unsure what to make of it.”

“We get that a lot,” Harry said with a chuckle. “But the truth is that there are lots of magical people, like the werewolves, who are marginalized in magical societies around the world and who will gladly live in a country where they can work and live freely.”

“It certainly sounds idyllic,” Stormaxe said, seemingly having recovered from the initial shock. “But what is your motivation? Especially considering your apparent partnership with Mr… Gaunt here.”

Voldemort sat up a little as he gave Stormaxe a patient look, answering before Harry could. “My main motivation for going against the ministry has first and foremost always been allowing all magic to be used again, to lift the ban on all the different branches of magic that the ministry deemed too dangerous over the centuries.”

“That might be so, but you were also known for your quest for blood-purity and dominating all other magical races,” Stormaxe pointed out, sounding utterly reasonable.

Voldemort ducked his head a little as though suddenly feeling self-conscious. Harry wasn’t sure if he was acting or not, which was quite the feat. “Ah, the folly of youth, Chief Stormaxe. I find that as long as I can live in a country where I can practice all magic and I don’t have to worry about breaking the Statute of Secrecy every five minutes, my desire to rule the entire world has diminished greatly.”

When it seemed Stormaxe wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, Harry decided to offer his own point of view. “I’m a necromancer. That alone should explain my motivations for creating Magica.”

“Indeed,” Stormaxe agreed with a small nod. “It has been a very long time since the world has seen one of your kind, Mr Potter. Once word of this gets out, many will seek to destroy you.”

“I am aware,” Harry said and then gave Stormaxe a rueful smile. “That is one of the reasons I want to empty my vaults today. I don’t want to give my enemies an opportunity to harm me in any way.”

“Understood.”

“But,” Harry said, finally ready to make an offer now that he’d seen how Stormaxe responded to the idea of Magica. “Gringotts would always be welcome to open an office on Magica. Right now we are a small community, but we are growing almost daily and before long there will be enough people living there to make running a bank profitable.”

Stormaxe gave a thoughtful nod, but he kept many other emotions hidden, Harry was sure. “I thank you for the invitation, and I will put it before the goblin council at the first opportunity.”

“Thank you for considering our invitation, Chief Stormaxe,” Harry said with a polite smile. “You can reach me by owl if you have any further questions.”

And that was the end of the meeting, as the young Goblin named Hammerborn reappeared to take them to the vaults. Harry was pleased with this first meeting. There had been polite conversation, no threats or violence, and Stormaxe seemed genuinely interested in what Magica could offer the goblins. Harry was sure that it would take some serious negotiations before Magica would ever have its own goblin bank, but that was how these games were always played.

Voldemort also seemed content enough with the result of the meeting and he returned Harry’s smile with one of his own.

The Potter vault was full of gold, a small fortune to be sure, which Harry magicked into one of the many expanded crates he always carried in his satchel. But the Potter vault had nothing on the Black vault.

Harry’s eyes widened as he stepped inside the Black family vault and even Voldemort made a little noise of disbelief. While the Potter vault had contained stacks and trunks of gold, the Black vault had mountains of it. And on top of that there were trunks of gemstones and countless silver decorations and many portraits of severe looking Black ancestors. There were also plenty of closed trunks that held who knew what.

“Aren’t you regretting giving this all back to your godfather sight unseen?” Voldemort whispered into Harry’s ear, his tone teasing.

Harry threw his head back and laughed. “I’d be lying just a little bit if I said no. No wonder Sirius was hyperventilating at the idea of losing this.” Harry got out many crates this time and it took him a while to fill them all. He also marked them all with some magic so he wouldn’t mix up his family’s possessions with Sirius’.

“Ours, ours,” V cawed as he hopped from one golden mountain to the next as Harry was busy loading up his trunks. “All ours.”

“Alas, V, we’re giving it back to the rightful owner,” Harry said and then chuckled at V’s disbelieving look while he almost slid off a large pile of Galleons in surprise.

Last was Sirius’ personal vault, which held less gold than the Potter vault had done, so Harry was finished with it before long. On the way out of the bank both Harry and Voldemort exchanged some gold to muggle money.

“Where is this plant nursery?” Voldemort asked the moment they stood outside again.

“Oxfordshire,” Harry said while blinking against the sudden afternoon light. “It’s a muggle nursery, but they have lots of different types of trees.”

“Then we should dress for the occasion.” Voldemort pulled out his wand. “May I?” At Harry’s nod, Voldemort deftly transfigured Harry’s linen and leather clothing into a casual black muggle suit, and then he did the same thing to his own clothing. “This way we will blend in a bit better.”

As soon as they reached the apparition point, Harry apparated them to an empty, hidden corner of the nursery where no one would see them arrive and they could join the other visitors without being noticed. There were a few other customers about but overall it was quiet around them.

“It has been a while since I walked among muggles,” Voldemort said softly as they navigated their way through a whole lot of tightly packed conifers in search of fruit trees.

“I still find it strange that I cannot use magic just because others don’t have it,” Harry said, instantly feeling chagrined again now that he was reminded of that. He’d never had that problem before.

“I take it that Santika was a primitive world,” Voldemort said, though he didn’t sound like he was trying to insult Harry’s previous home.

“Define primitive.”

“What I mean is that the muggles in Santika hadn’t advanced in technology yet,” Voldemort explained patiently. “That they hadn’t invented machines yet.”

Harry nodded as he now understood what Voldemort was getting at. “You’re right, they hadn’t. There were no cars or electricity or kitchen appliances, which is what I remember from the few years I spent living with muggles.”

“In this world, muggles are advancing their technologies at an alarming pace,” Voldemort said, glancing at Harry with eyes that shone with something that might very well be worry. “When I grew up in the muggle world, some sixty years ago, the muggles fought in a world war. That war lasted six years and 75 million people died. That includes soldiers and civilians.”

Harry walked straight into a pine tree, tripping over the bucket it stood in, V flying up into the air quickly to save himself. Harry barely caught himself or he would have faceplanted right there and then. “How many?” he asked in complete disbelief as he stared at Voldemort while his head suddenly felt a little light. “How is that even possible. I’ve seen plenty of battles, and plenty of wars, and the most that were ever lost were a few thousand soldiers and a few hundred civilians.”

Voldemort dipped his head while he folded his hands in front of him, the picture of solemnity. “That war was sixty years ago, Harry. The muggles have invented many new and far more destructive weapons since then. Nowadays they could destroy a city the size of London with a single bomb.”

Harry swallowed, not liking one bit where this conversation was going. “What are you really saying here?”

Voldemort’s tight smile was as far removed from amused as it was possible to be. “What I’m saying is that Magica is much more than simply a country where all magic is allowed. It might very well be the last safe haven for all magic-kind once the muggles discover us. And they will, Harry. They will.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 25

Albus sat in his office and signed off on the budget for the upcoming Yule Ball with a flourish before putting the scroll aside for Minerva to collect later. Then he reached for a sherbet lemon from his candy dish and leaned back in his chair, popping the treat into his mouth. As he softly sucked on it, Albus contemplated the events of the past month.

Having Harry Potter return had proven disappointing, but on the other hand it had also opened up a few doors that had previously remained firmly closed. While Harry was still missing, his family vault had remained locked for anyone. And a missing child couldn’t officially be declared dead until they reached their maturity, so Albus had no opportunity to claim the Potter vaults for himself until Harry’s seventeenth birthday, no matter if the boy remained missing during his whole life.

James and Lily Potter had, as expected, left all their worldly belongings to their only child, in a simple, unofficial will they had drawn up quickly once Harry was born and had given to Albus for safekeeping. But since they lived in very dangerous times, they had accepted Albus’ advice to name more potential inheritors aside from their child. They had done so by adding Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew to inherit everything just in case Harry perished. They also added Albus as a final option, should none of the others be able to receive an inheritance. James and Lily figured they would rather the money go to the Order of the Phoenix, or Hogwarts should the war be over soon, then end up in the ministry’s coffers, as was the case with unclaimed vaults eventually.

Fighting a war was expensive. Safe houses had to be bought or rented, potions had to be made and lots of people needed to be bribed. Then there were those in hiding who couldn’t work and needed to be provided for. In the past, Albus had made sure to recruit wealthy young wizards and witches to his cause, who were all eager to donate to the Order of the Phoenix. Albus himself received a generous salary for his work at Hogwarts, the Wizengamot and the ICW, but it was the kind of money that meant he could live comfortably, not the kind that made him rich in any way.

And thus the Order of the Phoenix needed rich donors, and Albus had found plenty. James Potter, Sirius Black, Frank Longbottom, Edgar Bones, Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadowes. All of them, save for Sirius, had been killed in the war. Sirius had, of course, ended up in Azkaban for his part in the betrayal of the Potters. At the time it had hardly mattered that Albus’ funds had dried up almost overnight, since Voldemort was defeated and disappeared for a decade.

But now, Voldemort had returned. Albus didn’t have any solid proof, but he could feel it in his bones. It had started three years ago, when the Philosopher’s Stone was stolen from Hogwarts by Quirinius Quirrell. Albus had honestly never pegged him for a follower of Voldemort, especially since Quirinius had worked as the Muggle Studies teacher before taking a sabbatical and returning to teach defence. Even though people like Severus and Minerva hadn’t been very keen to believe him, Albus could see Voldemort’s hand in the theft of that precious artifact.

Then the next year poor Ginevra Weasley went missing, and again Albus had no evidence, but he strongly suspected Voldemort had a hand in this, too, though Albus couldn’t as of yet see why Voldemort would go after the Weasleys’ youngest child.

And just last year Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban and terrorized Hogwarts for months and months until the truth finally came out that Sirius wasn’t the secret-keeper and hadn’t betrayed the Potters or killed Peter or any of those muggles. And just like that, Albus had a very rich donor back under his control. Poor Sirius wasn’t in the best of mental health after spending so much time around dementors, but he was more than eager to share some of his wealth so Albus could look for poor missing Harry and prepare for Voldemort’s inevitable return.

And then entirely unexpectedly an adult Harry Potter had appeared in the Great Hall and everything had gone to shit. At first, Albus was elated to see an experienced, powerful Harry, who without a doubt could go toe to toe with Voldemort and ultimately defeat him. But then Harry had rejected not only the prophecy, but Albus himself as well.

And Sirius Black had grown a rebellious personality again practically overnight now that he had his godson back.

That wouldn’t do at all.

You see, Albus knew something about Harry Potter that others didn’t.

Harry Potter had to die.

On the faithful night when James and Lily had met their untimely end, Hagrid had brought young Harry to Hogwarts. Poppy had of course examined the child and healed a few bumps, cuts and bruises before asking Albus to take a look at that strange, bleeding scar on his forehead that refused to be healed by any kind of magic Poppy could provide.

And Albus had examined that wound carefully, had felt the dark magic practically oozing out of it, and had eventually come to the rather horrifying conclusion that Voldemort had somehow left a piece of his soul inside poor Harry. Souls were strong, they didn’t simply shatter on impact with a spell, not even a killing curse, so how had Voldemort managed to leave a piece of his soul behind? Albus had contemplated this question for a very long time over the past decade, long even after Harry disappeared, and eventually Albus had concluded that Voldemort had torn his soul apart long before trying to kill Harry Potter.

Voldemort had made at least one horcrux.

Again, Albus had no proof, not a single shred of evidence, but he believed that this was why Voldemort had survived the last decade until some servants had helped him return to a brand-new body. Albus was sure Voldemort should have returned to a new body by now, even if he hadn’t called any of his followers yet. But no matter if Voldemort already had a body or not, either way a new war was brewing, and Albus needed funds.

The easiest way to procure those funds was through the will James and Lily had left with him all those years ago.

Harry had to die, would most likely die during a confrontation with Voldemort and hopefully take the Dark Lord with him to the grave. Remus Lupin couldn’t inherit more than 100 Galleons since he was a werewolf and the Wizengamot had written a few very restricting new werewolf laws over the past decade. And while Albus truly believed that werewolves should be treated like any other people, he hadn’t tried very hard to stop those laws aside from a cursory protest, because the result of those laws suited him just fine. And lastly, Peter Pettigrew was officially declared dead and couldn’t inherit a knut from anyone.

That left Sirius Black as the only obstacle in the way of Albus getting his hands on not just the Potter vault, but also the Black vault, which held many more times the gold than the Potter one did.

And while Albus wasn’t a murderer, didn’t think highly of anyone who would ever take a human life, in times of war it was sometimes necessary to do things one might otherwise find distasteful.

So when the news that Harry Potter had met with Amelia Bones to see about getting Sirius a trial had reached Albus’ ears he’d known what he needed to do, no matter how much this went against his principles. While Sirius was still a wanted man, he was firmly under Albus’ control. But Sirius as a free man could do what he wanted, could spend all this gold on cheap whiskey and prostitutes, or he could decide to be done with the country that saw him illegally imprisoned and move to the other side of the world and take his riches with him.

And most importantly, a free Sirius would absolutely take Harry under his wing and teach him all manner of things Dumbledore didn’t want him to know. Such as perhaps visiting the goblins and filing an official will of his own, and since Harry was an adult that would render James and Lily’s previous will useless and Albus would never get his hands on the Potter and Black vaults.

So the solution was simple enough. Sirius Black had to die, and the ministry was all too happy to go along with Albus’ subtle manipulations since everyone there believed Sirius was guilty anyway. Amelia Bones had raised a bit of a stink about Sirius not having received a trial thirteen years ago, but when Albus showed her the signed statement from Severus, how Sirius had attacked three innocent students the previous year and tried to feed them to a fully transformed werewolf, Amelia had backed down and let the trial happen as it should.

Sirius had disappeared through the veil, all his possessions had gone to Harry as his only heir, and Albus was sure of his enormous inheritance once Harry confronted Voldemort and met his demise, just as the prophecy predicted. And that Harry was angry with Albus now hardly mattered. Harry had already rejected the prophecy, and since he lost his godfather he was alone in the world, with no one to guide him. Remus had never had more than 50 Galleons to his name at any given time, so he hardly understood how one should manage a Gringotts vault. Harry had no one left to turn to, and soon enough, Albus was sure, he’d find himself in Voldemort’s path. The prophecy was very real, after all.

Albus released a deep sigh and smiled. He did really enjoy it when a plan came together.

Green flames sprung to life in the fireplace and Bill Weasley’s head appeared. While the Weasleys were useless when it came to helping to fund the war, they were amongst the most loyal of his followers, and for that reason Albus appreciated them a lot.

“Headmaster,” Bill Weasley said, green flames flickering around his head. “I just received news Harry Potter was seen in Gringotts this morning.

Albus didn’t like the sound of that, since Harry had no business in Gringotts after the first time he withdrew some gold to buy a few things. “Was he alone?”

“No, there was a man with him,” Bill said and then gave Albus an apologetic look. “I don’t know who it was. The goblin I’m in contact with didn’t know who it was either, hadn’t seen him in Gringotts before.”

Hmm. That man might very well have been Remus, Albus thought, since Remus had never had a Gringotts vault of his own and therefore hardly ever visited the bank so most goblins wouldn’t know who he was. “What did Harry do at the bank?”

Bill swallowed visibly. “He… er…emptied and closed the Potter and Black vaults.”

Albus sprang to his feet at once, staring at Bill with wide eyes. “What?”

“It’s the talk of Gringotts,” Bill said quickly, looking rather astonished himself. “Harry had a meeting with Chief Stormaxe and after that he took all his gold and went home. Oh, he did exchange some of it into muggle pounds.”

Albus felt the blood drain from his face. This was a disaster. An absolute disaster. “What was the meeting with Stormaxe about?”

“I have no idea,” Bill said with a shrug. “The goblin I spoke to didn’t know either. I doubt anyone aside from Chief Stormaxe knows and he’s not known for gossiping about clients.”

Clenching his teeth, Albus barely kept it together as his chest suddenly felt very tight and his face very hot. “Please try to find out if you can, William. It is of the utmost importance that we know what was said during that meeting.”

Bill looked a little dubious about this request but he did nod his head. “I’ll try, headmaster. I’ll talk to you again soon.” And with that Bill disappeared and the flames in the hearth died down.

This was a nightmare. An absolute nightmare. Everything Albus had worked for all these years, gone because one stubborn man decided to take all his gold out of Gringotts. Why, Albus had no idea.

Up until this point, Albus hadn’t cared very much where Harry went after his brief stay in the Forbidden Forest. All that mattered to Albus was that sooner or later, Harry would confront Voldemort, as the prophecy foretold. Albus had heard rumours after the first task that Harry had moved abroad, but he had written that off as fanciful imaginings from mindless fans, along the lines of the stories of Harry stealing the Hungarian horntail to keep it for himself that started circulating soon after the task.

Utterly preposterous, all of it.

Harry knew nothing of this world, or of any other countries, knew no one in it save for Remus, and Albus has assumed that after Sirius’ trial they had hauled up together in one of the Black properties to grieve their godfather and friend. But now he realized this had been a mistake, to assume he knew what Harry was thinking and doing. Clearly Harry had found someone to guide him, whether that was Remus or someone unknown. Albus should have kept a tighter reign on Harry, no matter that Harry made it clear he wasn’t letting anyone control him.

Albus released a burst of wild magic in sheer frustration, which hit his bookcase and sent some books flying. Not everything was lost just yet. As long as Harry didn’t make a new will, Albus still was the only person in line to inherit Harry’s fortune, whether that fortune was held in Gringotts or not.

Now Albus needed to come up with a few new plans to make sure Harry didn’t do anything else to ruin Albus’ carefully constructed future.

++++++++++++++++++

Voldemort stood quietly between dozens of young pine trees as he watched Harry process the metaphorical bomb he’d just dropped at the other man’s feet. A lot was playing out on Harry’s face, much easier to see now without that wall of hair and ridiculous beard. There was disbelief and anger and fear and determination, all of it clearly on display.

“Why would Magica be the only safe haven left?” Harry asked at last, keeping his head lowered while he glanced up at Voldemort. “Surely there are other magical countries?”

Voldemort took his time formulating his words, wanting to explain this in a way an intelligent man who hadn’t grown up in their world could quickly understand it. “Imagine, for a moment, what would happen once the muggles discover they’re sharing their countries with wizards. The first thing they’d do is pass laws to restrict the rights of wizards, and since those wizards live in their country, those laws would hold up in any court.”

“Ah,” Harry said with a thoughtful nod. “A muggle government’s laws would overrule any wizarding laws.”

“Exactly,” Voldemort said with a pleased smile, happy his companion caught on so quickly. “It doesn’t matter where wizards live. They could live deep in the amazon jungle, but that is still a part of Brazil or a few other countries. They could live deep in the deserts of North-Africa, and be a part of Morocco, Algeria, Egypt or Libya.” Voldemort gave Harry a penetrating look. “The muggles would feel entitled to make laws to restrict wizards because those wizards live in their countries and should therefore adhere to their muggle laws. The only way out for wizards is to wage war on their muggle countrymen and overthrow their muggle government entirely.”

“But Magica is its own nation, its own territory, and no muggle has anything to say about it,” Harry said in conclusion and pursed his lips. “We should probably shore up our defences then.”

“We should,” Voldemort said, pleased Harry was on the same page as him. “I have a few ideas of which wards to use. We can get together later this week to go over some plans.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Harry seemed a bit livelier again after processing this huge shock and resumed walking, still in search of assorted fruit trees. “Is that why you hate muggleborns?”

Voldemort sighed, unsure how to explain himself on this subject without angering Harry. Then again, Harry had proven himself to be a very practical and pragmatic person, who didn’t shy away from getting his hands dirty, so perhaps he would understand Voldemort’s motivations.

“It’s not so much muggleborns that I hate, it’s their muggle parents,” Voldemort said as he fell into step with Harry, who listened quietly and attentively as Voldemort spoke. “You have to understand that when I was sorted into Slytherin, it was assumed that I was a muggleborn, since Riddle is a muggle last name. Slytherin was full of blood-purists who loved nothing more than cutting me down in any way they could.”

“That must have been tough for a few years,” Harry said softly.

Voldemort nodded. “It certainly wasn’t easy. But I was a quick and talented student who had more magic at my disposal than most of my classmates combined. I gave much better than I got and to help integrate myself even more I started copying their rhetoric. I didn’t personally hate muggleborns, but it was easy to use my hatred of muggles to justify the mistreatment of muggleborns.”

“You had to survive,” Harry whispered with a knowing glint in his eyes. Voldemort knew that Harry had done some unsavoury things during his own childhood to survive, since Harry had flat-out told him he’d been a slave for well over a decade. Voldemort could only imagine the horrors that brought with it.

“I did, but I also quickly realized that the purebloods who spouted the blood-prejudice were the ones with money and political power and were my best chance to rid the wizarding world of the laws that restricted so much magic.”

“They were a means to an end,” Harry guessed with a smile, just as they reached the section full of fruit trees.

“They were exactly that. I never personally believed that muggleborns or half-bloods aren’t as powerful as purebloods.” Voldemort shrugged while giving Harry a lopsided smile.

“Right,” Harry said with a chuckle. “Just look at us. Both half-bloods, both ridiculously powerful.”

“Everything just escalated as the war dragged on and on. Some of my followers got off on torture and murder, and while they had their uses, ultimately they didn’t advance our cause much at all.” Voldemort shook his head, knowing he was letting out his own trip down insanity lane thanks to his horcruxes. And even though Harry knew about them, had mentioned them, much to Voldemort’s horror, for some reason Voldemort found it utterly embarrassing to admit to Harry he’d accidentally turned himself insane. No, for now Voldemort was more than happy to simply ignore the horcrux issue.

“And now all of that is a moot point because we have a country where we can practice our magic freely, which was my goal all along.” Voldemort turned to look at Harry, who was examining a small apple tree but focused on Voldemort again once he continued speaking. “That is how I will convince my blood-prejudiced followers to accept the muggleborns on Magica. I will emphasize that it is a land that will protect all wizards and witches from the inevitable discovery by muggles while allowing us to practice whatever magic we desire.”

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment before giving Voldemort a sharp look, while his ridiculous raven landed on his shoulder again. “Do me one favour,” Harry said, voice low. “Don’t force any of your followers to move to Magica when they’re not willing to accept our inclusive policies.”

Voldemort considered this carefully for a few long moments while Harry went back to studying apple trees. Harry had a point, since Voldemort knew all too well some of his followers would never accept Magica as it was now. Walden Macnair, for example, would sooner cast the cruciatus curse on himself than live willingly amongst werewolves. And dear Bellatrix, who was withering away in Azkaban still, would never accept muggleborns as her neighbours. But there were others, aside from Barty and Severus, like Nott, Dolohov, Yaxley, Rowle and more, who were more nuanced in their beliefs, and who would understand that the advantages of living in Magica far outweighed the presence of a few muggleborns and werewolves.

It was time, Voldemort supposed, to finally call his followers to him, something he had not yet done since his return, because he frankly hadn’t known what to say to them. Voldemort had known that he didn’t want to continue the previous war, since the losses on both sides had been far too great. Voldemort didn’t desire to rule over a country that had only a few living souls left to rule over.

But now, thanks to Harry and his amazing magical feats, Voldemort had another acceptable course laid out before him, one he could sell to his followers as a worthy substitute for their previous goals. Some wouldn’t accept it, but Voldemort would simply keep them quiet with the necessary magical vows and continue to use them to keep an eye on the British ministry and to influence events as needed.

“I believe you have a good point,” Voldemort finally said while giving Harry a small smile, well aware that he usually didn’t bother with that amongst other people. But for some reason, it was so very easy to smile at Harry. “I will make sure those of my followers that move to Magica agree to our laws.”

Harry nodded and seemed satisfied enough with that promise. “How about some of these?” Harry pointed at some apple trees that looked no different from any of the others, save for the small tag hanging off their bare branches. “Cox’s Orange Pippin. A traditional variety that’s apparently very tasty.”

“They seem like an excellent start,” Voldemort agreed easily. He knew nothing about apples and would happily admit such a thing, so he had no problem letting Harry select the varieties of apples and other fruit they could grow.

And look at him now, Voldemort thought with a self-deprecating snort. Here he was, feared Dark Lord, buying fruit trees at a muggle nursery with his once mortal enemy. Voldemort hadn’t expected to get along with Harry so well when he’d reached out to him. He’d hoped for a truce once it became clear the prophecy had never been about them, but what he’d gotten instead was an unexpected friendship.

There was something about Harry that drew Voldemort in like a moth to a flame, and he was powerless to resist this growing attraction. Voldemort didn’t think it was sexual, or at least not just sexual.

Harry, once he’d gotten rid of that beard and had trimmed his hair back, was a very attractive man. Harry’s casual confidence and good humour only helped to emphasize his physical attributes. And while Voldemort appreciated those attributes plenty, it was Harry’s magic that was the real attraction. Voldemort hadn’t been lying when he told Harry being around him made Voldemort feel like a student again.

If Voldemort was very honest with himself, then he knew that Harry far outperformed him when it came to magic. Perhaps Voldemort had more knowledge or experience in a few obscure branches of magic, but overall Harry could do things in five minutes that would take Voldemort hours. And Voldemort wanted some of that, couldn’t resist the draw of learning new types of magic that Harry so clearly possessed. The Sorting Hat had made it very clear that Tom and his unsatiable quest for knowledge would have done very well in Ravenclaw, and it was only his endless ambition that saw him sorted into Slytherin instead.

Voldemort wanted to learn everything he could about Harry Potter and more besides. And he wasn’t ashamed to admit it, at least to himself. He was cautious still, some part of himself convinced this was all an elaborate trap designed to fulfil that blasted prophecy. But with every hour he spent with Harry, Voldemort became more and more aware that with Harry you got what you saw. Harry was a Gryffindor, even though he had some Slytherin tendencies hidden up his sleeves, and Harry was direct and cared nothing for social games unless he was absolutely forced to play them. And Voldemort appreciated all that, because it meant he could take his time figuring out how he best fit into Harry’s life, and how Harry could fit into his own.

Because there was one thing Voldemort knew above all others; now that he had found Harry, he would never let him go again, if only for the wealth of knowledge Harry had on magic that Voldemort was desperate to learn.

“I think we should do a little bit of everything,” Harry said as he wandered around the fruit trees while that blasted raven kept staring at Voldemort with narrowed eyes. Yes, if there was one negative thing about Harry, it was that useless bird he always carried around with him.

“We could get some of these dwarf nut trees as well,” Voldemort suggested as he gestured at some walnut trees he’d spotted to his left.

“Good idea!”

And that is how they ended up buying half the nursery, or so it seemed. Several varieties of apples, pears, cherries, plums and apricots, and a few walnut, chestnut and hazelnut trees as well. It was a good start to an orchard and Voldemort was certain that in a year’s time they’d have a bountiful harvest of delicious fruits and nuts. And it also fulfilled Voldemort’s required part in providing food for the community.

Harry might want to raise pigs, but Voldemort was a city boy and he had no desire to mingle with smelly farmyard animals. He left that to others while he enjoyed the end result. Harry wasn’t the only one who loved bacon.

They spent the afternoon planting first Harry’s orchard, with the help of Harry’s house-elf inferi, and then Voldemort’s. They also took the time to mark both their property boundaries, and Harry gave one of his undead house-elves the task of creating stone walls that encircled his property and would keep any adventurous grazers from ruining his orchard and future gardens. He also told his elf to do the same for Voldemort’s property, which was greatly appreciated.

Meanwhile Harry talked about the library he was setting up with the help of Regulus, and how he’d created a post office, and that they were even getting a pub soon. And Voldemort enjoyed listening to the stories and seeing Harry’s face light up when he talked full of passion about this new country they were creating.

By the end of the day, they were both tired but satisfied with what they’d accomplished.

“Stay for dinner?” Harry asked with a peaceful smile. “Violet has the makings of a great cook.”

“I would certainly appreciate a hot meal by now,” Voldemort said. What he didn’t say is that he found the idea of spending more time with Harry far more appealing than any possible dinner. Merlin, he was getting soft in his old age, wasn’t he?

Harry showed him a bathroom where he could freshen up, while Harry went to do the same on the first floor. Soon enough they were seated in a relatively small dining room with a large chandelier hanging above the table, full of hundreds of candles. Harry lit them with a casual wave of his hand.

“Violet, dinner for two!” Harry called and then they both sat back and waited expectantly what a house-elf inferius might consider was a proper dinner for two wizards.

They didn’t have to wait long before two plates popped into existence in front of them, filled with what looked like mustard soup, with some large croutons sprinkled on top.

“This looks great!” Harry said, voice full of joy. Grabbing his spoon, Harry had a taste of the soup. “Oh yeah, this is really good.”

Voldemort tried the soup himself and had to conclude that yes, the soup was delicious. After the soup followed a mushroom risotto with lots of cheese, which was also very good.

“So what is keeping you from accepting my price for a date to the Yule Ball,” Harry said halfway through the main course.

Voldemort sat back a little, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin.

“Since you said earlier you don’t hate muggleborns, just muggles,” Harry explained with a patient smile.

“Ah, yes, I did say that,” Voldemort said with a nod. Harry had a point, of course. There was nothing stopping Voldemort from accepting Harry’s conditions. “I suppose the reason I am hesitant is that I thought that I might need the idea of blood-prejudice to persuade my followers, but I am now convinced that I can achieve similar results by emphasizing the muggle threat.”

“So are we going to the ball?” Harry seemed a little confused about his own enthusiasm, judging by his sudden frown. “I mean, so I know that I have to start on building the basilisk an island soon.”

Voldemort reached for his glass of wine and raised it in a toast. “We are going to the ball.”

Before he could stop himself, Harry gave Voldemort a huge grin. “It should be a lot of fun, smuggling a giant murder serpent out of Hogwarts.”

“It’s certainly a first for me,” Voldemort said with a chuckle.

“Arse ball, arse ball,” the raven cawed from its perch in the corner of the room where it had been provided a small dish of risotto. Voldemort studiously ignored the insufferable beast while he finished his own meal. Desert was a slice of chocolate cake with whipped cream, simple but delicious.

“I am calling my followers tomorrow,” Voldemort said while they ate. “I suspect that the majority will agree to Magica’s terms and be happy to live here. Some won’t, but I will make sure they remain silent on our existence, at least for the time being.”

“Yeah, that’s for the best. Your followers have to send in applications, though, since we’ll have to decide on locations for any mansions they want to bring, or we’ll have to build houses for them.”

“Of course,” Voldemort agreed quickly, understanding perfectly well that Harry was swamped and couldn’t be expected to get everything done at once. “Some of my followers, however, are stuck in Azkaban.”

“They were imprisoned?”

“At the end of the last war, yes,” Voldemort said with a short nod and then ate the last of his cake. He wiped his mouth again and gave Harry a considering look. “I want to break them out of Azkaban. Some of them will be real assets to have here on the island.”

“That’s fine,” Harry agreed easily, much to Voldemort’s relief. He didn’t think Harry had a problem with criminals, but he also didn’t want to presume to know everything about Harry just yet. “As long as they obey our laws they can live here.”

“Of course.”

“Maybe I should come,” Harry mused while his forehead creased in thought. “They do have dementors there and you can’t cast a Patronus.”

“I don’t need one to break my followers out,” Voldemort said quickly, lest Harry thought him suddenly inept.

Harry hardly seemed to hear him as he sat up to grin at him. “I already exploded two dementors, so it might be a good idea for me to tag along, just in case.”

Voldemort blinked, trying to comprehend what Harry had just said. “You did what to two dementors?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 26

Harry gave Voldemort an indulgent smile. “Dementors are filled with souls, and guess what… I can move souls where I want them. Outside of their bodies even. Turns out their bodies aren’t built for that. Hence the explosion.” Harry made a gesture with his hand, opening his fingers rapidly, to illustrate the point.

“Soul boom, soul boom,” V cackled in agreement, bobbing up and down in amusement on his perch.

Voldemort slowly nodded his head and sipped his wine. “At this point I believe it is just better to accept that you’ll always find new ways to turn my worldview upside down.”

Chuckling, Harry leaned back in his chair and finished his own glass of wine. “That’s perhaps for the best. Though, to be fair, I’m frequently amazed at things you all take for granted in this world as well.”

“I suppose we’re both in for a few more surprises then in the future,” Voldemort agreed quietly.

Harry could hardly believe the day he’d had. Such a pleasant, enjoyable day, and he’d spent it all with his once enemy, the man who murdered his parents and who had even tried to murder him. They’d raised house-elves from the dead, they’d started the first stage of negotiations with the goblins, they’d planted matching orchards and now they were enjoying a wonderful dinner together.

What was the last time that Harry had felt this comfortable around someone else? Or when had Harry allowed himself to enjoy a few of life’s pleasantries like this?

Not since the first of his children had died, Harry was sure of that. For the last few decades or more, since Harry’s immortality had caught up with him by way of the deaths of his loved ones, Harry had, perhaps subconsciously, started withdrawing from certain aspects of life.

But now he felt that spark again, that burst of enthusiasm and passion that had started when he decided to first build a magical island and which now led to spending pleasant time with new friends.

Yeah, Harry realized, he had somewhat socially neglected himself for a while there, but thankfully that was changing now and Harry genuinely looked forward to many more days spent with Voldemort.

“I will summon my followers tomorrow,” Voldemort said after he emptied his glass as well and placed it on the table. “Get them all sorted first. After that’s done we can break into Azkaban.”

Harry frowned when a thought occurred to him. “Could there be more wizards and witches in Azkaban who were treated unfairly or never got a trial, like Sirius?”

“There will be quite a few prisoners on the minimum security levels who are there for practicing forbidden magic,” Voldemort said while he gave Harry an understanding nod. “These are potentially good people to add to Magica.”

“I think we should take our time in Azkaban then,” Harry said, filled with the determination not to let anyone rot in that prison who didn’t absolutely deserve it. “Go through every prisoner and take most of the non-violent offenders with us.”

“We can leave the rapists and murderers behind,” Voldemort agreed easily. “But the poor sods who are in there for performing a forbidden ritual or a little blood magic certainly deserve a second chance.”

“Good.” Harry sighed and stretched his arms over his head. “I still have to pop by Sirius and Regulus and give them their gold.”

Voldemort chuckled. “Or you could make them sweat a little longer and conveniently forget to do it tonight.”

“Nah,” Harry said with a grin. “I’d much rather not hold onto it longer than I have to, before something really does happen to it. I do sometimes have the worst of luck.”

“That’s a good point.” Voldemort carefully pushed his chair back, looking rather regretful while he did so. “Then I shall leave you to it and thank you for a wonderful dinner.”

“Thanks for daring to try Violet’s cooking.” Harry snickered and got up as well. “Though I can’t tell you how awesome it is to finally have a servant who can cook.”

Voldemort looked thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose I should get a house-elf for myself as well. A living one,” he added quickly when Harry looked ready to offer him a house-elf inferius of his own. “I cannot depend on Quirrell to always do my cooking and cleaning now that he can move about freely again here in Magica.”

“We can compare elves, then,” Harry said, eager to see how his undead ones performed compared to their living counterparts. “See which one functions better.”

“That would certainly be interesting to investigate.” Voldemort followed Harry to the entrance hall where Harry opened the doors with a wave of his hand. “I will see you soon.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, feeling oddly disappointed that Voldemort was leaving, even after having spent the whole day with the man. “Good luck with your meeting tomorrow.”

Once Voldemort had disappeared into the darkness outside, Harry wasted no time and got his broom from the closet and flew to Black Manor, V following him with rapid beats of his wings.

“We were wondering if you had changed your mind and decided to keep our gold for yourself,” Sirius said with a laugh, but Harry did detect a hint of real nerves there. He couldn’t even blame his godfather now that he’d seen how incredibly rich the Black family truly was.

“Nope, still don’t want or need your gold,” Harry said as he started unloading all the trunks and crates from his satchel. “Did you manage to set up a secure area to store it in? We might eventually get a Gringotts office here but that won’t be for a while yet.”

“Yep,” Sirius said just as Remus and Regulus joined them in the hall. “We put part of the cellar under a Fidelius charm, with me as the secret-keeper.”

“That’s a simple but effective solution,” Harry agreed, still unloading his godfather’s riches.

V hopped from trunk to crate around the hallway. “Gold, gold, lots of gold.”

“V was eager to keep it all for ourselves,” Harry told his friends with a teasing grin.

“Ours, ours,” V said, hunkering down on a particular large trunk and glaring at Sirius.

“Think again, feather-duster,” Sirius said and levitated the trunk right out from under V, who flapped his wings frantically to not fall flat on the floor.

“Would you like to stay for a drink?” Remus asked when Harry made for the front door.

“I’d love to, but I need a nap right now. I’m planning on starting on the Hogwarts library tonight,” Harry said. He wanted to get that over and done with now that his to-do list had grown yet again with the upcoming Azkaban heist.

Regulus looked up from the crates he’d been examining. “Will you get it all done tonight?”

“Not sure, but hopefully.”

“I’ll get the shelving finished first thing tomorrow morning then,” Regulus said with an eager glint in his eyes. “Almost all of it is done. I also need to add some runes to activate the library charms.”

“If I’m up all night I won’t be at the library until midday at least, so there’s no need to hurry,” Harry said with a dismissive gesture.

“Okay. Thank you, Harry.” Regulus offered him a grateful smile before going back to sorting through his family’s treasure.

Harry flew back to his castle and made a beeline for his bed for a much needed nap. He set a simple alarm charm that woke him up half an hour before midnight. Though he was still tired, Harry was determined to get this task done because he was genuinely worried if he didn’t do it now, it would be another week at least before he’d find time to do it.

After quickly washing his face and brushing his teeth, Harry felt refreshed enough to apparate to Hogsmeade, broom in his hand and V on his shoulder. V took to the sky while Harry flew through the darkness towards the astronomy tower. He’d heard plenty of stories from his father, how he’d snuck out to Hogsmeade by using his broomstick to simply fly from and to the astronomy tower, since the door there was apparently never locked.

Harry slipped his invisibility cloak on over his shoulders the moment he touched down on the tower and slid his broom into his satchel. V flew down the many steps and kept to the air, leading the way to the library while Harry quietly walked through the empty hallways.

The library was closed for the evening, but Harry had learned from his family members that there were no wards on the gates, merely a locking charm that Harry easily undid with a wave of his wand. Once inside the dark and deserted library, Harry got to work at once. He got more crates and trunks out of his satchel, though he was running rather low because he’d used most to move the Black fortune around, but he easily transfigured more from random sheets of parchment or broken quills that he found.

The magic Harry used to copy books was a combination of charms and transfiguration, that took air molecules and turned them into paper and ink while copying the exact design of the book. It was a very effective way to copy huge amounts of books without wearing the wizard out. The only downside was that since it used air molecules a very real consequence was that Harry might accidentally end up suffocating himself in between the library stacks, so the first thing he did was get some ventilation going with a few charms that would supply a steady stream of fresh air to the areas he was working in.

After that it was a matter of starting at one stack of books, working his way systematically down one row, to the next, until he moved to the next stack and the next, while books flew off their shelves, copied themselves mid-air before returning to their spots while the copies fell into the waiting trunk beneath it. The work wasn’t difficult at all, but there were so many books to copy that it did get rather tedious after a while and Harry found himself nodding off while leaning against one of the stacks more than once.

“No sleep,” V chattered while keeping an eye on Harry from on top of the stack. “Wake, wake.”

“Sshh!” The last thing Harry wanted was for some caretaker to hear V’s comments and come see what was going on in the library in the middle of the night.

There were a lot of books, on all sorts of subjects, and Harry looked forward to reading lots of titles that he came across.

Around four in the morning, Harry was done with the regular section of the library, and while yawning fiercely, Harry inspected the wards on the gates that blocked off the entrance to the restricted section. As it turned out, those wards were mostly meant to keep underage students out, and Harry was an adult. The other spells he found were merely very strong locking charms which weren’t that difficult to break for him and before long Harry got started on copying every book in the restricted section as well.

By the time Harry was finally done and made his way back to the astronomy tower, the sun was cresting the horizon. Harry quickly flew just beyond the gates of Hogwarts, waited until V touched down on his shoulder and apparated home where he wasted no time going straight to bed.

V pecked him awake just before noon. “Wake, wake! Eat, eat!”

Harry blinked bleary eyes at his companion as he pushed himself up on his elbows. “Yeah, all right. Violet, breakfast in bed!”

Holy fuck, Harry couldn’t believe he had a servant who could do that. He loved Igor, he really did, but having someone around who could make him breakfast in bed was just fucking awesome.

A few minutes later Violet appeared, holding a large tray while giving him a blank stare. “Eep.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, accepting the tray in his lap while eyeing the delicious food. Violet had made him some toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, some fried mushrooms and a strong cup of tea. It was the best breakfast Harry had in ages, and V also ate his fill as he sat beside Harry in bed.

Harry took a very quick bath, got dressed in clean clothes and then something occurred to him when he spotted the overflowing hamper. Igor did the laundry whenever Harry told him to, but he had to do it by hand and he often didn’t wash things long enough to get things like bloodstains out of the linen. But now Harry had servants who could perform magic.

“Lavender, do my laundry!”

“Eep!” Lavender appeared at once and took the whole hamper away with a pop.

Harry laughed to himself while he jogged down the stairs. The moment he stepped outside, broom in hand, to make his way to the library to drop off his loot, a familiar looking owl swooped down on him and dropped a note in his hand. It was one of the owls Harry had bought for the post office, and the note was from Rachel, his natural development officer, who asked him for a meeting as soon as possible, so Harry mounted his broom and flew straight to her house.

“Good, you’re here,” Rachel said the moment she opened her door. “Come in, I need your opinion and advice.”

“Sure.” Harry sat down at her kitchen table, which was now almost completely covered with many piles of muggle books on all sort of natural subjects, and gladly accepted a cup of tea.

“I got a hundred head of mule sheep yesterday,” Rachel said, voice full of enthusiasm as usual. “I managed to enlarge the inside of a crate usually meant to store wool in, herd all the sheep in there and then portkey the whole lot to the island.”

“Ingenious. Well done,” Harry said with a proud smile.

“I also got a whole bunch of ewes of primitive breeds, like Jacobs, Icelandic, Shetland, and Manx Loughtan. I’m still trying to find some Romanov hair sheep rams, but I’ve got some leads.” Rachel was practically beaming when she was done talking.

“I’m very happy to hear that,” Harry said honestly, relieved that Rigel and Keket, had something to hunt and eat that weren’t his precious Shetland ponies.

“But I’ve been thinking,” Rachel said, her tone betraying she wasn’t sure if Harry was going to like whatever she had to say next. “How do you feel about wolves? Or bears?”

Harry blinked. “I like them just fine as long as they aren’t eating my livestock.”

Rachel sighed and threw her head back briefly. “Here’s the thing, Harry. Muggles have bollocksed the conservation of wildlife up royally. In mainland Europe the wolf has been pretty much hunted to extinction. Same with the brown bear.” Rachel got a very determined frown on her face. “And what was done to wolves and bears here is nothing compared to what was done to the Siberian tiger.”

“The what?” Harry asked, unsure what a tiger was.

At once, Rachel pulled a large book out from a random stack and shoved it towards Harry. The title read ‘The Siberian Tiger’ and the book was filled with very realistic, colourful pictures of a large orange cat with black stripes. In one picture the cat had a whole deer in its mouth and at once Harry worried for his precious Shetland ponies. Then he saw a chapter titled ‘the man-eating tiger’ and he also started worrying about Magica’s human residents.

“We could offer these animals on the brink of extinction a home here, Harry,” Rachel said, her brown eyes wide and her voice pleading.

Harry briefly closed his eyes while he bit his lip. “I understand your motivations, and I admire them,” Harry told her diplomatically, meanwhile imagining his precious Shetland ponies ripped apart by wolves and bears and tigers. “But our country isn’t built to house large predators, and that won’t change for many more years to come.” Harry held up a hand when Rachel seemed to want to argue with him. “Our country is too small right now. We will grow and in some years we might have enough land and natural resources to support a few bears. They’re omnivores, so they’ll be fine eating just about anything they can find. But wolves are notorious for killing free-ranging livestock. And while these tigers look magnificent, they form a very real risk for the people of our land.”

“But,” Rachel said, eyes getting a little misty. “These animals deserve homes, too, away from muggles who try to hunt them to extinction.”

“What I can do, sometime in the future,” Harry made a pointed gesture with his hands as if to push something far, far away from him, “is to create another island and set that up as a wildlife reservation. We could have wolves and tigers there, and we could take holidays there, admire the wildlife from a safe distance.”

“Like ecotours!” Rachel perked up again and gave Harry a blinding smile. “That would be awesome. But we can introduce wild boars on Magica, right?”

“Not this year, as the plant life needs to establish a bit more, but in the future, absolutely,” Harry agreed easily. Boars were delicious and having a steady supply of them to hunt was a good idea.

Rachel leaned closer to him across the table. “Also, I’ve been thinking about our lakes and rivers. Trout for the lakes, which are edible and fun to catch.”

“Sure.”

“And for our river, I was thinking about buying fertilized salmon eggs. When hatched in that river, the salmon will return there once they’re adults to spawn, and we can catch them.” Rachel looked at Harry as though she’d just announced that she’d invented the wheel for the very first time.

“That sounds fine to me.” Harry finished his cup of tea and gave Rachel a nod. “You’re welcome to add whatever you like to the lakes and river. I trust you with that. Just… any predator larger than a fox needs my permission, okay?”

“Okay!” Rachel all but bounced in her seat. “But I’m holding you to tiger island, Harry, don’t think I won’t.”

“Sure, but not today.” And with that, Harry pushed his chair back and got up with a sigh. “One more thing.” Harry pulled a small bag of gold out of his satchel and handed it to Rachel. “Your salary for November. Thanks for your hard work. I appreciate it.”

And while Rachel gratefully accepted the bag of coins, Harry saw himself out. One well-meant crisis averted. Harry decided to stroll to the library since town square bordered Walnut Street.

The first thing Harry noticed in Town Square was that the new pub now had wooden panelling on the outside where white stone used to be. The second thing he noticed was the huge sign above the doors and windows that said: THE IRISH COCK. Below it was a very small, very boring picture of a cockerel.

Harry bent over laughing, while V made affronted noises on his shoulder. Subtle Billy Malone was not, but Harry appreciated the humour of it, and he figured others would as well.

Once Harry entered the library he found it transformed. Right near the entrance stood a large wooden desk with a row of filing cabinets behind it. Beyond the desk were rows and rows of nicely finished wooden bookcases, some of them already quite full. Above them hung signs that displayed subjects like ‘household charms’ and ‘hexes and curses’.

The moment the door fell shut behind Harry, Regulus stuck his head out from behind a bookcase. “Harry! You’re here. Did you get all the books?”

“Books, books,” V cawed as the took flight around the library. “Ours, ours.”

“I did, yeah. Almost fell asleep a dozen times. Copying so many books is tedious work.” Harry opened his satchel and started unloading the many, many trunks and crates.

“Sorting through the books is a lot of fun, though,” Regulus assured him with a bright smile. This was the most lively Harry had seen him as of yet, and it was good to see Regulus with a healthy flush on his cheeks and an eager shine in his eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll have all the fun in the world going through this mountain of books then.” Harry reached inside his satchel and pulled out a small bag of coins. “Since it’s payday for all my employees and you do work for me…” Harry held out the bag.

Regulus snorted and quickly shook his head. “Absolutely not. You’ve seen how much gold my family has. Sirius has given me half of it, to do with as I please. Even if I spend it generously I wouldn’t run out of gold for the rest of my life. Keep that and give it to someone else. I consider myself a volunteer from now on.”

“That works for me,” Harry said with an understanding nod. Regulus had no need of this gold, but Harry knew a few people who did. His next stop was the post office where he found Mildred sitting behind the counter, chatting to the dozing owls while she knitted a red jumper.

“Harry, good to see you. Do you like what I did with the place?” Mildred asked as she gave him a beaming smile, her knitting needles clacking without interruption.

Mildred had decorated the post office with some simple pictures of flowers and landscapes, and she’d created a colourful pricelist based on the Diagon Alley Post Office brochure Harry had given her.

“It looks great. I can’t stay long, I’m just here to pay you.” Harry handed her a small pouch with a few coins. “You’ve only worked for a few days this month, but you get paid for every single one of them.”

“Thanks,” Mildred said with a shy smile. Then she sat up a little, her knitting needles finally pausing. “I was thinking, Harry, about our neighbours who don’t have financial reserves to fall back on. We could start a public pantry.”

“A what?” Harry asked with a frown, never having heard of such a thing.

“It’s just a small space we set up somewhere on a street corner, where those of us who can miss a few things can leave food and other essentials for our neighbours who might otherwise go hungry before all our vegetables are producing.”

“That is an excellent idea,” Harry said with a thoughtful nod.

“I’ve already talked with Erika and Claire about it,” Mildred continued, needles clacking away again. “And they are happy to donate their time and wood to create the pantry.”

“Awesome,” Harry said. “I’ll leave it in your capable hands to set it up, and once it’s there I’ll fill it up on my dime the first time.”

Mildred’s smile was both grateful and a little sentimental. “You’re a sweetheart, Harry. Thank you.”

“No problem.” Just as Harry left the post office, V turned around on his shoulder and glared at the owls.

“Dumb bird, dumb bird.”

Harry’s next stop was Town Hall, where Remus was getting ready to welcome the next batch of new residents.

“Harry,” Remus said the second Harry walked through the door. “The construction crew was here earlier, since they finished those new streets but you hadn’t suggested any names for them. They came up with Birch Street, Ash Drive, Beech Place and Poplar Lane, since those were the trees they planted there.”

“Works for me,” Harry said agreeably, glad his construction team were showing that kind of initiative. “Here, your salary.” Harry handed Remus a bag of gold.

Remus blinked, looking at Harry as though Harry had just handed him a live rattlesnake. “What?”

“You work for Magica, Remus,” Harry said with a grin as he sat down in one of the empty chairs beside the desk. “Of course you’re getting paid.”

“But I live in Black Manor, I get all my meals there…”

“So what?” Harry shrugged and crossed one leg over the other. “None of that means you don’t deserve a salary for your hard work, same as everyone else.”

Remus lowered his head, lips trembling briefly. “Yes, fine. Thank you.”

“Pfff.” Harry waved his comments away while wondering how badly the world had treated Remus that receiving a salary he’d earned through his hard work upset him so visibly. “How many new folks are moving in today?”

Remus collected himself and tucked the bag away inside his robes. “Er…about 20 or so, mostly werewolves.”

“How many werewolves are left in Britain, do you think?” Harry asked, wondering if they’d been able to reach all of those wolves that needed help.

“There are still just under fifty or so left,” Remus said while he gave Harry a worried frown. “But a big chunk of them are followers of Fenrir Greyback, and we don’t want them on the island.”

“No?” Harry widened his eyes as he gave Remus a questioning look. “Are they not the civilized kind of werewolves?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Remus said, his nose wrinkled in obvious distaste. “Another way is explaining that Greyback prefers to infect very young children and keep them for his own bodily entertainment, and if those poor children survive to adulthood they usually end up with the same perversions as Greyback himself.”

Harry sat up ramrod straight as he narrowed his eyes at Remus while old, almost forgotten memories of small dead bodies and crying children and the feeling of Rylan’s cock ramming inside of him surfaced with a vengeance. “Where can I find this Greyback?” Harry asked, voice low and magic pooling in his eyes until they were glowing.

“Why do you want to know?” Remus asked in a whisper, his own face suddenly pale.

Harry’s grin was absolutely predatory. “Because I’m going to kill that kiddie-fucker.”

+++++++++++++++

Voldemort refused to admit it to anyone, but he was feeling a little bit nervous about finally calling his followers to him. Just a smidge. The minutest amount. But it was still there, this annoying churning in his gut at the thought of having to announce to his followers they were going to do things differently.

Some would welcome this change, Voldemort knew, since they understood that this new direction was much safer for themselves and their families. But others, those who thrived on violence, would perhaps consider this new and improved plan weak and Voldemort no longer fit to lead them. Obviously Voldemort would tolerate no disturbances in the ranks and he would smack down any hint of mutiny with prejudice, but he was well aware that followers who no longer believed in him and their cause were ripe for the picking by people like Dumbledore, to be used, and eventually discarded, as spies. Voldemort would have to proceed with caution, no matter what.

Voldemort stood in the ballroom in what was now officially called Gaunt Mansion, Quirrell and Barty by his side. He’d given Barty a head’s up about the summoning, so he could evade Dumbledore without raising suspicion and make sure his Polyjuice had worn off before showing himself to his fellow Death Eaters.

“Your arm, Quirinius,” Voldemort said, and the moment he was presented with Quirrell’s bare forearm he pressed the tip of his yew wand against the Dark Mark. Quirrell cringed for a second at the sudden flash of pain but he recovered almost at once. Voldemort’s newest marked servant had come a long way from the cowering man he’d been when Voldemort first met him.

“And now we wait,” Voldemort said, wand in hand but pointed down.

“I can’t wait to see who shows up,” Barty muttered with a dark frown, still very sensitive about those followers who had rejected the Dark Lord after his fall to stay out of Azkaban.

The first masked Death Eater through the door was Severus, since Voldemort would recognize that swooping stalk anywhere. Lucius followed soon enough, blond hair a dead giveaway to his identity. Others followed who Voldemort could easily identify even with their faces covered. Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Mulciber the elder, Rowle, Yaxley and Travers.

A few more trickled in before long, one whom Voldemort was surprised to see, though he had no idea why since he was still one of his Death Eaters.

Regulus slipped inside the room, head bent, face hidden, and he stood at the very back as far away from Voldemort as possible.

“Friends,” Voldemort said when it seemed that all those that were going to show up had done so. “It’s been thirteen years since we were gathered like this. Much has happened. Things you’re aware of, like my temporary demise, and quite a few things that are going to surprise you, like the new location of our meetings.”

Voldemort took a few steps forwards and walked up and down the line of masked Death Eaters, enjoying their obvious discomfort at having him pass by so closely, probably worried they’d get punished with the cruciatus curse any second now. But no, Voldemort had decided he wasn’t going to punish his followers like that anymore, unless it was truly warranted.

“Friends, we stand before a choice we must all make,” Voldemort continued as he stopped in front of his followers, hands clasped loosely behind his back. “All of you have a choice to make today. Remove your masks.”

There was some surprised muttering, since Voldemort had never ordered his followers to bare their faces in a general meeting like this before. Only the inner-circle met with their faces unmasked. But his followers were still far too afraid of any potential punishment to disobey him so one by one they pulled their masks off and glanced carefully around the room, trying not to be too obvious they were doing so.

Voldemort nodded in satisfaction. “Now that we are all –”

“Reggie?”

Snapping his mouth shut, Voldemort glanced over his shoulder to see Barty standing there, white as a sheet, staring at the other side of the ballroom like he’d seen a ghost.

“Reggie? How?” And before anyone could say or do anything, Barty all but flew across the ballroom and threw his arms around a dazed looking Regulus, squeezing him so tightly even Voldemort started worrying for his well-being.

“Hi, Barty,” Regulus said in a whisper, his eyes shining with happiness when Barty finally pulled back. It looked like Regulus might want to say more, but Barty never gave him the chance because he pressed his lips to Regulus’ in a firm kiss. For a moment, Regulus stood completely still, eyes widened in shock, but then he tilted his head and answered the kiss while his eyes slowly closed.

Voldemort sighed. This is what happened when you stopped using the cruciatus curse on your followers, he just knew it.

Chapter Text

Chapter 27

Seeing that Barty and Regulus weren’t coming up for air anytime soon, Voldemort used that distraction as a way to measure his followers’ reactions. One could tell a lot by a man’s responses to something unexpected.

Lucius looked very much like he was trying with all his might not to roll his eyes. Severus didn’t bother to contain his impulses and rolled his eyes in a way that clearly said he wasn’t just exasperated with those two men, but with the whole bloody world. Crabbe and Goyle looked confused for the most part, which was honestly nothing new. Theodorus Nott was unable to hold back a sentimental smile, but then again, Theodorus was a closet romantic. Voldemort knew only too well, having shared a dormitory with the man for seven years and having had to live through every aspect of Dorus’ courtship with some Hufflepuff. Macnair looked utterly bored, as did the Carrow siblings. Yaxley, Avery, Travers and Rowle all seemed to have thoughtful frowns on their faces, probably wondering how they could use this new information to their own advantage.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years and years,” Barty finally said, sounding completely out of breath.

“Me too,” Regulus sighed and looked like he wanted to dive right back into snogging Barty, but enough was enough.

Voldemort cleared his throat while crossing his arms. “Gentlemen, as touching as this reunion has been, it is time to get back to our very busy agenda.”

Barty’s eyes widened, only now realizing what he’d done. He sprung away from Regulus as if suddenly burned and stared at Voldemort with an expression on his face that Voldemort hadn’t seen there for quite a long time. Barty looked afraid, probably not even so much for himself as for Regulus, seeing as Barty quickly stepped in front of his brand-new paramour.

“Just get back to your positions,” Voldemort snarled with an impatient wave of his hand. Barty flew across the ballroom back to his previous spot and Regulus ducked his head and studiously ignored Voldemort’s glares. “Very well.” Voldemort clasped his hands behind his back again and continued to walk up and down the row of Death Eaters. “An opportunity has come across our paths, one that fulfils all that we’ve desired for many decades.”

While giving his followers a secretive little smile, Voldemort strolled out of the ballroom. “Follow me.”

There was some confusion as everyone looked at everyone else before finally hurrying after their Lord who led them through the long hallway to the entranceway before opening the front doors and stepping outside.

The original gardens of the mansion had moved alongside the building, but further down the island’s flowery meadows stretched out for miles and miles, with young trees, barely reaching shoulder height, dotting the landscape. Voldemort walked along the garden path and down numerous steps until he reached the meadow. He waited patiently for his followers to gather near him before he turned to look at them again.

As if on cue, at that exact moment Harry’s dragon cousin came sailing by overhead, his large wings causing a flurry of wind to rustle all their black robes. Right behind the dragon came Sirius Black on his broom, urging the beast on in between loud bouts of laughter. To complete the spectacle, Harry’s beastly friend came tearing across the meadow in happy pursuit of Black and the dragon.

“Impossible!” Severus shouted, eyes wide and face greying at an alarming rate. “I saw him die! Black should be dead!”

Ah yes, Voldemort remembered how much Severus had always despised Black and his friends since their Hogwarts days.

“Breathe, man,” Lucius urged him in a harsh whisper since it looked like Severus might actually collapse in sheer shock.

“Welcome to Magica,” Voldemort said loudly, drawing everyone’s attention back to himself. “The first fully magical country in the world, where no muggle has ever set foot before and where all magic is legal.”

All his Death Eaters were now muttering while looking around in disbelief.

“My Lord,” Nott said while looking like he wasn’t sure if he’d just become the victim of a particularly cruel prank. “How is this possible?”

“My neighbour Harry,” Voldemort waved to the left where in the far distance Potter Castle was visible, “is very good at transfiguring seawater into brand-new land. He made this country from scratch.”

“Harry?” Alecto Carrow asked with a wrinkle of her nose. “Harry who?”

“Harry Potter,” Voldemort said with a terribly amused smile. “You may have heard of him.”

All his Death Eaters, save for the ones already in the know, were now looking at him as though he’d just lost his entire damned mind.

Voldemort hadn’t been this entertained in a long time. “Harry Potter, as you may have heard, grew up in a different world where he learned all kinds of magic. Including dark magic, which he uses quite a lot. You can imagine his disappointment when he realized most of the magic he is used to practicing is illegal in Britain. He solved this problem by creating a country of his own.”

“That is brilliant,” Nott whispered while a few others nodded in agreement.

Severus, who only just seemed to have recovered from the shock of seeing Black alive and well was scowling in a way that spoke very clearly about his disdain for anything related to Harry Potter.

“In this country,” Voldemort swept his arm around to indicate the wide landscape around them, “all magic is legal. All rituals are welcomed. All ancient holidays can be celebrated here with blood and sacrifice, as they should be.” This triggered even more muttering amongst his Death Eaters, now with a clearly enthusiastic edge to it. “However,” Voldemort continued, now calming his voice while giving his followers a contemplative look. “Living here comes at a price.”

“What price?” Lucius demanded, probably thinking he had more than enough gold at his disposal to pay any amount required.

Voldemort smiled at the eager faces of his followers. “Harry rules this island and he decides who lives here. And he has decided that all magical people are welcome here, no matter their heritage.”

“Mudbloods!” Amycus Carrow spat with a wrinkle of his nose. “Filth!”

“Indeed.” Voldemort gave a slow nod. “As of yet the majority of the magical folk who live here are werewolves.”

“No!” Macnair yelled in horror, just as Voldemort knew he would. “Those fucking monsters don’t deserve to live in a country like this.”

“That is not up to us to decide,” Voldemort pointed out patiently.

“My Lord,” Alecto Carrow said in a pleading voice, ducking her head a little in a half bow. “Could you not take this country for yourself, get rid of Potter and rule it as you please?”

Voldemort tilted his head as though he was taking his time mulling the situation over. “I could, I suppose, but I won’t.” There was a rush of muttered protests, but Voldemort silenced them by raising a hand. “Harry Potter is the best thing that has happened to the wizarding world in a long time. He is a dark wizard who believes all magic should be legal, and he is powerful enough to create a country for magical people only, which will give us an enormously strong position on the global political stage once the muggles discover us at some point in the future. Moreover, the public adores Harry Potter and he has a much better chance to get widespread acceptance of dark magic than anyone else does.” Voldemort waited a few moments while he gazed across his followers, looking each of them in the eyes. “If the price of that is living amongst mudbloods and werewolves, then I’ll happily pay that price. Whether or not you want to pay that price is up to you.”

There was a long moment of silence as everyone glanced at everyone else to gauge each other’s responses, until Nott cleared his throat. “My Lord, this mansion seems too old to have been build here since Potter’s return.”

“Ah yes,” Voldemort said, glad his old friend reminded him of this opportunity for his followers. “Harry is able to take any mansion plus its grounds and move it here to Magica. He has in fact moved the entirety of Black Manor here.”

“It’s true,” Barty added while the majority of the Death Eaters looked around in disbelief. “It sits to the west of here, with all the original grounds, forest and lake included.”

“In other words,” Voldemort said, glad to see at least some of his followers started looking like they might seriously entertain the idea of moving here. “You can take your homes and your land with you should you decide to move here.” Voldemort held up a hand when a few people looked like they wanted to say something. “You don’t have to decide right now. I understand many of you will want to discuss this opportunity with your spouses, parents, siblings or other family members. However, at this time we do not want the existence of Magica to become public just yet. Therefore I will arrange portkeys for all of you, so you can bring your family members here this evening to discuss this opportunity. Anyone who leaves here, including all of you, will sign a secrecy contract to ensure the existence of Magica is kept safe for the time being.”

“There’s no need for any of that for me,” Theodorus Nott said while everyone else discussed all they had learned. “When can my property be moved here? I’m not getting any younger and I want to live in a country where I can perform my family’s rituals without fear of discovery.”

Surprisingly, Lucius also seemed ready to accept the opportunity. “My Lord, I do want to discuss this with Narcissa, but I am certain she will gladly accept this opportunity.” Lucius stuck his nose in the air, his whole face a picture of distaste. “For years now, parts of the ministry, led by Arthur Weasley, like doing nothing better than raiding my mansion. I’ve had to give up large parts of our collection of dark artifacts that have been in our family for generations just to keep out of prison. I’m sick of it.”

Voldemort nodded in understanding. “The ministry can’t touch you here, Lucius.”

Avery, Mulciber, Rowle and Yaxley also seemed willing to make the move, though all of them did want to consult various family members first. Macnair and the Carrow siblings were the only ones who refused to even entertain the idea of living amongst mudbloods and werewolves, but Voldemort easily smoothed out any of their ruffled feathers by reassuring them that they could continue to serve him in Britain, where they all worked for the ministry in some capacity.

“I assume I am to remain at Hogwarts?” Severus said, looking as though he already knew the answer and not feeling particularly mournful about it.

“For now,” Voldemort said with a nod. “It is imperative that your cover remains intact while you spy on the old man. But afterwards, you are of course welcome to move here.” Voldemort turned away from Severus to address the whole group again. “For those who don’t have your own homes to move there is a free housing program. This might be interesting for any of your friends, family members or servants.”

There were more questions from his followers, which Voldemort answered to the best of his abilities, constantly emphasizing the potential threat of muggles while downplaying any distaste for muggleborns and it became clear that at least the majority of his followers were happy enough to go along with this new scenario. Eventually they all moved back into the mansion where Voldemort made sure they all signed secrecy contracts before he handed them a portkey to use that evening to bring any family members along to see the island and discuss a potential move to Magica.

Now all Voldemort had to do was corner Harry and put even more work on his plate, since Harry was as of yet the only one who could move homes from Britain to Magica.

++++++++++++++

“Harry,” Remus said slowly while his whole posture tightened up with obvious anxiety. “You don’t know Greyback.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Harry said, never breaking eye contact with Remus. “I know exactly what kind of man he is.”

“He’s very dangerous,” Remus insisted with a shake of his head. “He could easily hurt you.”

“I doubt that,” Harry said, grinning in a way that made it clear he knew a lot of things Remus didn’t. “Just tell me where to find him and I’ll do the rest. I’ll also take a very close look at his followers and save those that deserve a second chance.”

That seemed to do the trick for Remus because he exhaled a deep breath and nodded. “Greyback’s pack are hauled up in Galloway Forest Park in Scotland, near Dumfries. There is a magical section, hidden by muggle repellent wards, near Craigmalloch, where they’re hiding.”

“Thank you!” Harry said cheerfully. “That’s all I need to know.”

“Just be careful,” Remus urged him, just as the sound of a portkey arriving announced the first of the new residents. “Don’t underestimate Greyback.”

“Dumb wolf, dumb wolf,” V cawed, though whether he meant Remus or Greyback was left unclear.

The first few new residents were all single werewolves of different ages. One young man of barely twenty-five gave a heartfelt sigh when Remus asked him what he was good at and wanted to do.

“I’ve always wanted to be a baker,” Reginald Partridge said with a wistful smile. “My grandmother, a muggle, owned a bakery in Portsmouth. I wanted to work there, but my magical family forbid it, said it was beneath them. Of course, then I got lycanthropy and suddenly I was beneath them.”

Harry gave Reginald the same deal he’d given Billy Malone and his pub. Reginald got a shop and the flat above it on a housing contract, and Harry gave him a small interest-free loan to get his business started.

The oldest of the new single residents was well into his sixties and was named Ernest Mccallum.

“Do you allow crups?” was the first thing Ernest asked. “It’s just, I’ve got five of them back at my old place. I breed them, sell them for a bit of money, aside from growing some magical plants for potions ingredients.”

“They’re allowed,” Harry said at once, remembering his parents telling him about these small, magical dogs. “Do you have a home you want to see moved?”

Ernest blinked at Harry with wide eyes. “I’ve got a lovely little cottage with a bit of land, inherited from my aunt. It’s what’s kept me from becoming homeless all these years, after I got infected and my wife left me and took the kids with her. I could at least grow my own food and such.”

“I can move it here, land and all, tomorrow afternoon,” Harry assured him, which seemed to make Ernest’s entire week if his bright smile was any indication.

Next was a couple in their fifties. “Melissa and Leon Greengrass,” Melissa said by way of introduction, which caused Remus to look up in surprise, though Harry had no idea why. “I’m a half-blood,” Melissa continued with a polite little smile. “My sister moved here recently. She’s a werewolf.”

“You’re welcome here,” Harry said, waving them over towards the desk full of documents. “All magical users are welcome here, no matter their heritage.”

Leon didn’t move an inch, but only stared at Harry in clear defiance. “I’m a squib.”

Harry didn’t know what to do or say for a moment, because he’d honestly forgotten all about squibs, though his family had told him about them often enough. “You’re welcome here,” Harry said at last, since that seemed the most important thing to get across. “I recently learned that my great-grandmother, Bernadine Potter-Smith, had three sisters of which one was a squib. Bernadine was always against the separation of squibs from the wizarding world and she kept in touch with her sister during her whole life even when her sister was forced to attend a muggle school and lived out her life in the muggle world.”

Leon seemed to deflate a little, shoulders drooping and head bowing a bit. “I am glad to hear that, because to this day it is expected of squibs to leave the wizarding world entirely.”

“I never understood that,” Remus said with a thoughtful frown. “Squibs are not muggles. You may not have enough magic in you to perform spells, but you are magical. For one, muggle-repellent wards have no effect on you. Also, potions, which do nothing for muggles, work on squibs.”

“All excellent points,” Harry agreed and then he got an idea. “Leon, you seem like a man who is not ashamed of who and what he is. I have a proposition for you.”

Leon seemed intrigued enough to give Harry a careful nod. “I’d be happy to hear what you have in mind.”

“I’m sure you know other squibs who’d enjoy living on a magical island, so invite them over,” Harry said, warming up to the subject and knowing Bernadine would be thrilled once he shared all this with her. “Once you have a few squibs living here, I would love for you to try out what kinds of magic squibs can and cannot do. Think herbology, runes, potions, rituals and anything else you can think of. Once we know exactly how much magic squibs actually do have, we can find suitable magical things for you to do.”

Leon swallowed a few times and briefly looked away. “I’d be happy to do that,” he said, his voice a little too soft and too rough.

Melissa stepped in to give her husband a chance to collect himself. “I’m a tailor. I’ve mostly worked in the muggle world, but I’ve always used magic when mending or sewing clothes.”

“You can easily start a clothing shop here,” Harry said, glad to see they had yet another new trade to add to their collection of shops on the island. “You might want to offer a bit of everything at first, since we have such a small community still. Some second-hand clothing, some repair work and new clothing as you see fit.”

“That would work,” Melissa said eagerly. “I can start working from home and eventually, when there are enough customers around, open a little shop.”

“That’s an excellent plan,” Harry agreed.

“We have two children,” Leon said, now visibly calmer again. “Our oldest is a quidditch player for the Kenmare Kestrels. Our youngest attends Hogwarts in her sixth year. She’s a Ravenclaw. Both of them have magic.”

“Interesting,” Harry said with a thoughtful frown. “So squibs are capable of producing magical children just fine. And of course, your youngest can call Magica home when she’s not at Hogwarts. All homes have three bedrooms, and you can always add more.”

That seemed to please Melissa and Leon and they were quick to read through all the paperwork and sign what needed signing before Remus sent them to live at Ash Drive number 4.

The last new residents of the day were another couple named Louisa and Clyde Hewitt, who looked to be in their late twenties, perhaps early thirties.

“I’m a half-blood,” Louisa explained without reservation. “Clyde’s a muggleborn. My dad, Ernest, is a werewolf and told us about this place.”

“We just met him earlier today,” Remus said while he handed out documents.

“I make soap and other beauty products,” Louisa said while Clyde paged through all the paperwork. “I’ve got a small store in Blackpool, that does really good business in the summer and around the holidays. I’ve got staff running it, so I can open a small store here as well.”

“We haven’t got anything like that yet,” Harry assured her, again happy to have more types of crafts available on the island.

“I’m a beekeeper,” Clyde said once everything was signed. “I rent out hives to farmers for pollination, and I can easily transport a chunk of them here and sell the honey and wax for candles.” Clyde frowned for a moment and then looked at Harry with arched eyebrows. “I suppose I could sell hives as well, and perhaps offer beekeeping classes.”

“I think lots of people will be interested in that, myself included.” Harry had kept bees before, but that had been a while ago and he was curious to see how people with wizarding magic took care of their hives. “Sign me up for your first class.”

Louisa and Clyde headed off to Poplar Lane number 3 and Harry bid Remus goodbye. Talk about keeping bees did remind Harry that he probably should get started on building up the livestock on his own property and he knew exactly where to go.

Arnold Milner, the older man who sold veggie seeds and chickens from his front yard showed Harry what he still had available.

“These five are all I have left. Four young pullets just about ready to lay and one cockerel. They’re copper and black Marans. Decent egg layers, but also makes for a nice enough meat bird,” Arnold explained while he showed off the five clucking birds in their crate.

“I’ll take them, and throw in a bag of feed as well,” Harry said, not too worried what kind they were exactly. As long as they laid a few eggs each a week they’d keep him nicely fed.

“Business has been booming,” Arnold said with a huge grin while accepting Harry’s gold. “Everyone’s been wanting chickens. I’m getting more first thing in the morning.”

Harry balanced the crate in front of him on his broom, using a little magic to keep the whole thing from keeling over, and he flew the slightly panicky birds quickly to his castle. He had plenty of scrap wood available in his huge pile of firewood in one of the storage rooms in the cellar, and he quickly transfigured a nice, sizable chickencoop for his new birds. He instructed Slate the house-elf inferius how to look after the birds, when the feed, water and clean them, and since there were no predators like foxes or birds of prey on the island yet, the chickens could free-range as much as they wanted.

“Dumb birds, dumb birds,” V cawed while glaring at the pecking chickens in clear disdain.

“I thought you loved eggs?” Harry looked at his companion in confusion while he filled the waterer.

“Eggs very good, birds very dumb,” V chattered, and Harry rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

That job done, Harry decided he should get something to eat before starting on his mission to totally annihilate Greyback. While Harry sat at the kitchen table, sipping a glass of wine, Violet quickly put together a simple dinner for him of roasted potatoes, braised cabbage and some juicy sausages. Harry ate it all, still slightly in disbelief that he finally had someone to do his cooking for him.

Keket wasn’t anywhere in the castle, and Harry suspected she was playing with Rigel the dragon again as she had come to enjoy. Harry considered bringing Keket along, since she adored slaughtering kiddie-fuckers, but the downside to that was that Keket loved to play with her prey and by the time she was done not much would be left of them.

And Harry had plans for any dead body he’d run across from now on. Voldemort’s warnings about the threat muggles formed hadn’t been forgotten, and Harry had slowly, carefully constructed some plans for defensive strategies over the last day. And one of those plans needed plenty of dead bodies.

Harry looked up the coordinates of the Galloway Forest Park, and apparated to the edge of it just as the sun was setting. V took to the sky while Harry mounted his broom and flew across the trees in a north-east direction where Greyback and his pack were hidden away. After ten minutes or so Harry felt the magical wards as he crossed them so he knew he was headed in the right direction. Darkness had fallen completely at that point, but Harry didn’t need his eyes to sense any number of souls gathered beneath the trees and he kept his powers stretched out in search of the pack.

As he flew, Harry realized he probably shouldn’t be swooping in and killing Greyback outright. He was still new in this world, and he was a reasonably unknown factor to the residents of Magica. Back on Sildar, after decades of building and ruling and caring, Harry had earned the absolute trust of the people living there. So if Harry said someone deserved to die, people believed him and didn’t blink an eye when Harry took care of any threats, locally or across the continent.

But he didn’t have this kind of metaphorical armour yet in the wizarding world, and people might not appreciate Harry acting like judge, jury and executioner simply because he felt like it. No, he was probably better off provoking an attack and then acting in ‘self-defence’. That way no one could hold his actions against him.

Harry sensed the souls before he spotted the few dots of light made by campfires hidden mostly by the thick canopy of mature pines. Hovering in the air, Harry waited for V to land on the handle of his broomstick.

“Watch my back, V,” Harry whispered to his companion.

V bobbed his head. “Quick kill, quick kill. Bad wolf, bad wolf.”

“I’ll be as quick as I can without looking like a murder squad,” Harry assured V while he gently steered his broom down through the trees until he felt the ground beneath his feet. It was almost completely dark on the forest floor, but Harry couldn’t just see the small pricks of light of the campfires, he could also sense about thirty souls gathered around them.

“Good evening to you, good people!” Harry called out, putting on his bombastic persona, though it didn’t feel quite right anymore without his long hair and wild beard. “I have come to bring you the good news of Magica!”

“What the fuck?” a nearby man said as he sprung to his feet. Probably a sentry who had been dozing off on the job.

“Hello, hello!” V cawed, also getting into character.

“My name is Harry Potter, and I have come to invite you to live in Magica, the first all magical country in the world,” Harry continued, not slowing down his strides until he was standing close to the nearest campfire where a dozen or so children and women were gathered. “As long as you obey our laws, all are welcome there.”

Silence greeted him while the people before him stared up at him with wide eyes and opened mouths. All looked dirty and dishevelled and too thin. Behind them several men approached with scowls on their faces.

And then Harry heard it, faint but clear, in the distance. The sound of a small child whimpering in pain and fear, while an adult man grunted and groaned in pleasure. It took everything Harry had not to jump back on his broom, fly in that direction and rip the soul clear out of that man’s body.

“You’re not welcome here!” One of the men to his right snarled, stained, chipped teeth on clear display. Had none of these people heard of personal hygiene?

“Hello, hello,” V cawed again, proving an excellent distraction while Harry pushed his powers forward to seek out their souls. If things went south quickly, Harry could execute dozens of people at once this way.

“All who want to leave here can come with me, to live in Magica where no one will hurt you ever again.” Harry made eye contact with all the children, some as young as six or seven, others in their teens. “I promise. You’ll be safe.”

“You need to fuck off right now!” Another man to his left snarled, rushing him. Harry wrapped his power around the man’s soul, halting him in his tracks. It wasn’t enough to kill the man, but it was enough to make him feel dread as he’d never done before, as though the Grim Reaper was suddenly standing right behind him and had his bony hand wrapped around the man’s neck.

“What the fuck is going on?” came a bellow from the dark trees. A huge man emerged, belting up his stained and torn trousers while a boy no more than five slunk after him, grimy face smeared with tears. One of the women waved the boy closer. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Harry Potter, and I come bearing good news!” Harry proclaimed while he stared Fenrir Greyback right into his yellow eyes.

“I don’t give a fuck. You have five seconds to get out of here before I eat you.” Fenrir bared sharp, browned teeth, while his clawed fingers made tearing motions.

“I won’t leave without those kids,” Harry said, dropping his bombastic persona, suddenly dead serious. “You’ve hurt them enough.”

Greyback didn’t waste anymore time on words and took a giant leap in Harry’s direction, claws outstretched and yellow eyes glowing. Harry raised one hand and let lose a burst of red light, as though he’d just cast a spell, that hit Greyback in the chest. The moment it did, Harry yanked Greyback’s soul right out of his body and the man dropped down to the forest floor with a muffled thump, dead.

Harry didn’t want people to know what he could do with their souls. People tended to get really nervous once they realized you literally held their lives in the palm of your hand. Better they believe Harry had used some dangerous, obscure spell to kill his enemy.

At once several other men sprang towards Harry, crying out in outrage. V flew off and threw himself at one man’s face, clawing at his eyes while flapping his wings furiously. Harry repeated the act of throwing around bolts of red lights while pulling souls from bodies as many times as he needed before no more people tried to attack him. Looking around, Harry saw that all the adult men were dead, and what was left was several women and a bunch of kids.

“Line up,” Harry said when all they did was stare at him. “I need to see if you’re suitable for living on the island.”

Trembling with fear, but terrified of defying him, the women and children got to their feet. Harry examined each of them, by feeling their souls and by using Legilimency. None of them had mental defences and none even seemed to understand what was going on. One of the older teenage boys had a very troubled mind, since he’d unfortunately had learned to enjoy the sense of power that came with hurting others as a direct consequence of the abuse he himself had suffered for years and years. Harry obliviated a good chunk of that trauma from his mind, hoping this would get rid of most of those urges, but he would still keep a very close eye on the boy for a while.

After sending off his Patronus to Remus, telling him to meet him at Town Square and to have some more contracts ready, Harry picked up several pinecones and turned them into portkeys.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Harry told the people before him gently. “We’re going to portkey to Magica, where my friend Remus will welcome you and have some paperwork for you to read and sign.”

“Don’t know how to read,” one of the middle-aged women muttered. “Or write.”

“We’ll read it out loud for you,” Harry said quickly. “And you can write a symbol instead of your name.” Harry briefly cleared his throat. “You’ll get a house for the night, and tomorrow I can build you a big house so you can all stay together, if that is what you want.”

More than a few vigorous nods were given in reply to that.

“All right. Take hold of these pinecones, make sure everyone’s touching some part of it.” When they were all standing in position, Harry activated the portkeys and the twenty or so werewolves disappeared before his eyes. Harry immediately got out a crate from his satchel, one who had plenty of space on the inside, and he added some preservation charms to it. Then he loaded up every single dead body. Finally, he doused the fires with a stream of water from his wand and apparated to Town Square in Magica, where he saw Remus working hard to keep everyone calm, since apparently no one had travelled by portkey before and it had freaked them all the fuck out.

It took a while, but they got everyone settled after they signed the contracts. Harry conjured some simple furniture for them, some chairs and beds, and he had Violet prepare some filling, hot food for them, enough that would see them through breakfast. He also gently pointed them to the bathroom where he had Lavender lay out plenty of soap and towels.

“We’ll get them a more permanent home tomorrow,” Harry said to Remus as they both finally walked out of the house, leaving a whole bunch of dazed and anxious werewolves behind.

“And schooling,” Remus added with a frown. “Not a single one knows how to read and write.”

“Well,” Harry said with a grin. “We already have one volunteer teacher. I’ll send Quirrell a note in the morning.”

Harry flew back to his castle, but even though he was tired to the bone he didn’t want to wait setting up the first in the line of many defences around the island.

“Bed, bed. Sleep, sleep,” V cawed when Harry flew right past his castle to the most eastern point of the island.

“Not just yet, my friend.” Harry touched down on the rock and got his wand out while V landed on his shoulder to give him a critical glare. “We’ve got a bunker to build.” And that is exactly what Harry did. He created an underground chamber in the rocks, where he stashed the bodies and turned them into slumbering inferi. They weren’t active just yet, but could be activated by a single burst of magic in case of an emergency. Then he closed the bunker off with a magical trapdoor, which anyone authorised could open with a tap of their wands. The trapdoors would eventually be connected to each other around the edges of the island, and would be triggered automatically the moment someone without magic crossed the invisible line.

In other words, should muggles one day decide to invade Magica, an army of the undead would rise from the ground to greet them. Well, eventually. Right now, Harry had one bunker ready, but he needed many more inferi to fill other bunkers around the island.

It was almost three in the morning when Harry finally fell into bed, utterly exhausted. He’d already missed a good night’s sleep thanks to the Hogwarts library, and now he was also running behind on some much needed rest yet again.

Harry wasn’t sure what time it was the next morning when a loud banging woke him up abruptly. He could hear Igor shuffling across the stone floors to open the door while the banging went on and on. Harry hauled himself out of bed and walked almost drunkenly across the hallway and down the stairs just as Igor opened the door to reveal a mob of people.

Seriously, it seemed like most of Spellbridge stood in front of his door and not a single one of them looked happy to be there.

“Harry, what the fuck,” Rachel said from her position in the front of the mob. “Why are Greyback’s people suddenly living here?”

“Monsters!” cried a voice from the back.

“They don’t belong here!” someone else called.

Harry closed his eyes and ran a tired hand down his face while he leaned against the doorpost. Now there was this shit to deal with.

Chapter Text

Chapter 28

The sound of people voicing their objections got louder and louder now that Harry had appeared and stood facing the mob. Thankfully, Harry had faced mobs before and knew how to handle the situation. The crab fishers back on Sildar whose whole livelihood he’d invertedly destroyed when he’d grown more land in the wrong place had come storming his castle as well, brandishing their crab pots at him.

Harry straightened himself out, uncaring that he stood there in only his pyjama pants with his tattooed chest bared to the world. “SILENCE!” Harry bellowed as loudly as he could. That had the desired effect and at once the people in front of him shut their mouths in shock. Harry put on his best disappointed parent expression and he’d raised four kids so over the years he’d more than perfected it. “I am deeply disappointed in all of you that you thought storming my castle as a mindless mob was the desired way to settle any disputes.”

Several people in the mob hung their heads when they realized they had probably overreacted just a bit.

“In the future, if you have any questions or comments for me, it’s a much more civilized solution to simply send one person to knock politely on my door and ask for a meeting. I am your Governor and if you have urgent concerns I will gladly meet with you all, but not like this.”

V flew down from the banister and landed on Harry’s shoulder. “Rude, rude,” he cawed while he glared at the crowd, his head lowered. “Very, very rude.”

More heads bowed down in regret and Harry was pleased to see that the majority of the mob now seemed to realize that they probably had reacted like children instead of civilized adults. “I will hold a town meeting in an hour at Town Hall. All of you are invited, of course, and all of you will have a chance to ask your questions and voice your concerns. For now, I’d like to go wash and have some breakfast, since you all awakened me so rudely while I’ve spent half the night awake and working on the defences of the island that will keep us all safe.”

Yeah, that was all it took, Harry was pleased to see. People nodded and slumped off back home and Harry closed his door and released a deep sigh. The first thing he did was send a Patronus to Remus, to alert him of the situation, and then on second thought, he sent one to Voldemort as well to alert him of the upcoming meeting. Harry was sure his new friend wouldn’t want to miss it for anything.

Harry took a quick bath, which refreshed him enough that he did eventually feel awake enough to function, and then he enjoyed a delicious breakfast prepared by Violet. He also made sure to send Violet off with plenty of prepared food to the women and children he’d rescued the previous night, since none of them had money to buy anything and Harry wasn’t about to let them go hungry even for an hour when they were already far too thin.

Finally, Harry grabbed his broom and flew to Spellbridge, where he saw plenty of people walking from their homes to town square to join the meeting. Remus, Sirius and Regulus were already inside Town Hall, with the two brothers arguing whether they needed to create a dais or not, since the large room was entirely bare, save for Remus’ desks which were shoved against the wall for the occasion. Sirius was against adding a dais, insisting they needed to meet the people at their own level while Regulus insisted they needed to put themselves above the crowd.

“We need a dais,” Harry said as he crossed the large, empty hall with quick strides, ignoring Sirius’ groan of disagreement. “All the people need to be able to see us, and we need three chairs for now. Me as the Governor of Magica, Sirius as the Mayor of Spellbridge, and Remus as the Immigration Officer.”

V flew up to sit on one of the chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling, so he could keep an eye out for any potential threats and call out a warning when needed.

“Thank you,” Regulus said with an exasperated roll of his eyes while he shoved his brother to the side and started conjuring the needed dais and chairs. Remus took up position beside the door where a crowd was already waiting outside. The moment the dais was finished, Harry sat down in the middle chair, with Sirius to his left. Remus opened the door and then quickly joined them on the dais as the people poured into the hall. Harry saw Voldemort and Quirrell amongst the crowd. They kept to the side and managed to find a spot near the dais. Voldemort gave Harry an amused little smile which Harry studiously ignored. For now.

Finally, as no more people were left outside to join the crowd inside, Harry raised his hand to silence the muttering and whispering around them and when the people were finally quiet, Harry got up from his seat and stepped to the front of the dais so he could look out over the whole crowd.

“Welcome!” Harry called, putting on a pleasant smile while he nodded at several of the people he recognized in the crowd. There were well over a hundred people there and Harry was pleased to see how quickly Magica had grown over the past few weeks. “For those of you who haven’t yet met me, I am Harry Potter, founder and Governor of Magica. Over here is my godfather and Mayor of Spellbridge, Sirius Black, and over there is a man you’ve all already met at least once, our Immigration Officer Remus Lupin.”

There were several surprised gasps at the mention of Sirius, but Harry again quieted the crowd with a gesture of his hands.

“We have a few things to discuss today, and after I’m done talking I’ll gladly hear all your concerns and questions.” Harry allowed the people no time to object and continued in a loud but calm voice that had a clear authoritarian edge to it. This wasn’t Harry’s first time addressing his people, after all. “When I created Magica and I learned of the plight of werewolves in Britain, I vowed to ensure that every single werewolf would have a welcome and safe home here on the island. Last night, I attempted to keep to that vow by visiting the last wild wolfpack in Britain.” Harry paused for a moment, to give people time to absorb all the information while he gauged people’s reactions. So far everyone was hanging onto his every word. “Unfortunately I was met with instant hostility and I had no choice but to defend myself.”

Again, Harry paused, narrowing his eyes and giving the crowd a look that brooked no argument. “Fenrir Greyback is dead, as are his accomplices to his despicable brand of child abuse.”

Fierce voices shouted out in disbelief, while others only conveyed relief at that bit of news.

“The people I brought back with me to Magica are Greyback’s victims. Women and children, all of them,” Harry explained, softening his voice and looking several people in the eyes. “They need our sympathy and our help, not our scorn or our fear. They are no more monsters than you or I.”

People were again muttering loudly, but Harry was happy to see that most now spoke of the tragedy of these new residents, and of what kind of help they would need.

“These women and children have nothing,” Harry explained, his voice full of sympathy, to hopefully set an example for his people on how to feel about this whole situation. “Only the dirty and torn clothes on their backs. I have been keeping them fed, which I’ll happily continue to do until they can provide for themselves, but they need more help than that. None can read or write, and they need clothes and toys and household goods. I will build them a larger home on the outskirts of Spellbridge, so they can all live together as is their wish. But I urge all of you to open your hearts and help these people where you can, by sharing physical goods or by instructing them on how to look after themselves, how to grow food, and anything else that you can think of.”

Harry was very pleased to see more than a few people nodding along and he had high hopes that the people of Spellbridge would be generous in helping Greyback’s victims settle into their new, safe lives.

“What about him!” someone shouted somewhere in the back. “That’s Sirius Black. He’s a Death Eater!”

Harry shook his head and raised his hands again to urge people to calm down when more individuals in the crowd voiced their concerns about Sirius. “I am Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter,” Harry said while giving the crowd a challenging look. “Do you honestly believe I would have the Death Eater who betrayed my parents to Voldemort sitting with me on the stage here if he was actually guilty of any of those things?”

Plenty of people were nodding in agreement with Harry, that this notion was rather ludicrous indeed.

“Sirius Black was never a Death Eater and he never betrayed my parents to Voldemort. He was framed by the real secret-keeper, Peter Pettigrew,” Harry said, crossing his arms, daring anyone to disagree with him.

Someone did, because there was always one who liked to stir the pot, after all. “But he was found guilty of those crimes by the Wizengamot!”

Before Harry could reply, Voldemort stepped closer and jumped up onto the dais so fluidly that Harry was sure he was using magic to do so. “My name is Marvolo Gaunt, still relatively new to the island, but in the future I’ll take up the mantle of Magica’s International Ambassador. I was there when the British ministry executed Sirius Black by throwing him through the veil. Therefore, Sirius Black completed his sentence.”

Several confused voices rose up from the crowd while others inhaled sharp, knowing breaths. Harry looked down to hide his grin when he realized where Voldemort was going with this.

“The ministry sentenced Sirius Black to be thrown through the veil, which they did. Sentence completed,” Voldemort said with a careless shrug and a cheeky wink. He was every bit the showman that Harry was when it came to addressing crowds, that much was obvious. “Just because Harry is an incredibly talented wizard who managed to save his beloved godfather from beyond the veil changes nothing to that.”

“Besides,” Harry pointed out, addressing those few that still looked dubious about Sirius’ presence. “This is Magica. We have our own laws and our own justice system, and on this island Sirius Black is an innocent man.”

A brunette woman in her late forties Harry hadn’t seen before stepped forward and looked up at Harry with a defiant scowl. “Who gets to decide that? What the laws are here?”

Harry gave the woman a pleasant little smile, not at all surprised that someone sooner or later would challenge his authority. There always was one, as Harry had learned on Sildar many times over, who refused to accept his authority without lots and lots of pointless arguments. “I don’t think we’ve met yet,” Harry said to the woman. “I’d prefer to know who I am talking to.”

“I’m Brenda Stout, that’s my husband Hugh, and we’re the parents of Sue Stout.” Brenda kept glaring at Harry while the balding man at her side didn’t seem to know how to look as his eyebrows kept going up and down, eternally stuck between surprise and annoyance. Sue, a werewolf and one of Harry’s construction specialists, stood to the side of the room with her face buried in one hand, clearly embarrassed by her mother’s behaviour. Harry remembered Remus telling him about this couple, who’d arrived one of the few times Harry hadn’t been present to welcome the new residents. Hugh was a magical portrait artist and Brenda was a magical cookbook writer and had quite the fanatical following thanks to her culinary columns in Witch Weekly.

“Well, Brenda,” Harry said with a wide smile as he bent over a little to address Brenda personally. “I decide what the laws are here, because I created this island and I am the Governor for the next five years.”

Brenda scrunched up her face in clear distaste. “And what if we don’t agree with that? What if we think someone else should be in charge?”

“Then go back where you came from!” Someone shouted from the back, and Harry was quite sure that had been Billy Malone, their new pubkeeper, since the Irish accent was rather a dead giveaway. Several people vocally agreed with him while others laughed out loud.

“Who here has experience creating an entire country from scratch, from transfiguring the bedrock to building the homes to inviting the people to live there?” Harry said while he raised his own hand. “Please, anyone who has all of that experience, raise your hand.”

Of course, no one did but Harry gave it a good minute before he looked back down at Brenda. “That is why I am the Governor for the next five years. After that, once our country is established and recognized by the ICW, our government will open up to elections. A council will be established that anyone can run for and the people of Magica will be able to vote for a new Governor, who will serve for the next five years. And so on and so forth.”

Brenda looked around herself, clearly trying to get people on her side, but when no one seemed to agree with her initial complaints, she decided to try it from a different angle. “But you’re a dark wizard, that allows dark magic. We’ve been hearing all sorts of disturbing rumours about you, that you raise people from the dead.”

Harry cut her off with a sharp gesture of his hand while he narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m going to stop you right there, Brenda. Magica was founded on the principle that all magic is legal here. All magic, and that includes dark magic.”

“So the killing curse is legal here?” Brenda shouted, her voice taking on a hysterical edge. “And the cruciatus curse? That, too?”

Harry sighed and shook his head. “All magic is legal in Magica,” Harry said, but before more people could join the protest, he added, “But murder is illegal, as is torture, as is mind-control. So while the Unforgivable Curses are not explicitly illegal in Magica, anyone who uses them on a fellow human being will still be punished. You have all received a copy of our laws. I suggest you read them.” Harry finally aimed a sweet little smile at a quietly fuming Brenda again. “And if you don’t agree with this, dearest Brenda, you’re welcome to run for government in five years’ time. If you feel you can’t wait that long, you can always go back to where you came from. No one is forcing you to live here.”

Brenda tried to protest again, but was quickly drowned out by other people telling her to go back to Britain and eventually she shut her mouth, though her angry face spoke clearly this wouldn’t be the last time she’d argue about Magica’s authority and laws.

“Are there any other concerns?” Harry called out, and a few people had some practical questions, nothing particularly interesting, but Harry answered them diligently. When no more questions remained, Harry said, “Since our society is still so new and I’m sure more questions and concerns will come up, I suggest that from now on we have a weekly town meeting here in Town Hall. I’ll post the next day and time on the notice board beside the front doors.”

But before Harry could call an official end to the meeting, Remus got up and addressed the crowd. “Tomorrow’s the full moon.” This was met with a few wolf howls from the crowd, which caused a round of laughter. “Exactly,” Remus said with an amused smile. “Starting at nine tomorrow morning, we’ll be here in Town Hall the whole day handing out Wolfsbane potion.” This was met with some applause and many joyous cheers. “I’ll let our Governor explain what should happen once the full moon rises.”

Harry nodded at Remus and then addressed the crowd again. “Basically any land west of the river and the mountain is open for you all to explore tomorrow night, as no one lives there yet. I only ask that you not kill any livestock, and that you mind the trees, since they are still young and fragile. I have planted a nice stretch of woods to the south-west of Spellbridge, that our Natural Development Officer Rachel has been adding to over the past week. In the future, once the trees are a little more mature, this forest will be open to you every full moon and will be stocked with wild boars and deer to hunt, should you desire to do so. I would like to officially name it the Full Moon Forest.”

Many cheers and wolf howls rose from the crowd and Harry allowed the people to express their gratitude for a moment before he gestured them to quiet down again. “To the rest of our residents I simply say that on the night of the full moon it is probably wisest to hunker down inside, perhaps with a good book to keep you company because our library is now fully stocked. I wish you all a safe and peaceful full moon. Thank you all for coming. Meeting dismissed.”

While everyone trickled out the building again, Harry caught sight of someone he needed to speak to. Kashvi Anand was a thirty-year old muggleborn witch, who was best friends with Arnie, one of the werewolves and a construction specialist, since their days as Hufflepuffs at Hogwarts. Kashvi recently got divorced from a muggle and needed a new start, so Arnie had suggested Magica for her. Kashvi, who’d worked as a sales clerk and a waitress in the muggle world, had suggested she really liked charms and would like to do something with that, but at the time of her arrival neither Harry nor Remus had an idea what sort of job to give her. But last night Harry had a dream about selling his old brooms to the residents of Magica that gave him the answer.

“Kashvi!” Harry called as he hopped down the dais and hurried towards her. “Kashvi! I’ve got an idea for a business we can go into together.”

Kashvi looked at him with an expectant smile. “What sort of business?”

“You said you’d played on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, right? So you must love brooms,” Harry said, happy he was about to create another business opportunity for himself and for one of his people. “I make brooms as a hobby, for the most part, and I have made a whole lot of them over the years. Most are gently used, could use some new charms perhaps, but we could sell them as second-hand brooms. In the meantime, you could learn to make brooms and eventually build them for sale by yourself, and I’ll build some more brooms once I’ve got time to do so. We’d go into the business fifty-fifty,” Harry said, barely coming up for breath as he explained his rather brilliant idea, if he did say so himself.

“You’d teach me how to make brooms?” Kashvi asked, her brown eyes wide and disbelieving.

“I’d love to teach you, but I am rather short on time these days,” Harry said with a chuckle. “But I know someone who could teach you everything you’d ever want to know about broom making. My great-great-aunt Eustice MacMillan, who is an Enchantress.”

“Wow,” Kashvi said, clearly impressed. “Your great-great-aunt is still alive?”

“No,” Harry said with a snort. “But that hasn’t stopped her yet from sharing her wealth of knowledge with anyone who will listen.”

“Ah,” Kashvi concluded with a nod. “She’s a ghost.”

Harry winked at her, neither confirming or denying a thing. It was probably a good idea not to show off all of his dark powers just yet. “There is an empty shop beside the Roberts’ Grocery Store, that would make for a perfect broom shop. Can you manage transfiguring a counter and such?”

Kashvi nodded quickly, her whole face alight with joy at the prospect of running her own business with Harry.

“Good,” Harry said with a quick nod while he gave her shoulder a brief squeeze. “I’ll send my house-elves over with some scrap wood you can use to decorate the store, and all the older brooms you can get ready to sell. Auntie Eustice will be there in an hour to start your training.”

“That’s amazing! Thank you, Harry.” Kashvi looked around a little before she leaned closer to Harry so she could speak privately to him. “Please don’t listen to people like Brenda. Most of us are thrilled to be here, and we love the idea that all magic is allowed here. We’re even more thrilled that muggleborns are able to get decent jobs here, so you have our support, don’t doubt that.”

Harry squeezed her shoulder one last time. “Thanks, Kashvi, I appreciate that. I’ll stop by the store soon, but I am sure you’ll have no problem getting it all set up.”

Sue, Arnie and Shaun, his construction specialists, approached him next. “Thanks for the gold, boss,” Shaun said with a cheeky grin. Harry had sent Poppy off with their salaries the previous day. “Do you need our help building the Galloway wolves their new home?”

Galloway wolves. Harry liked that. It was certainly a better name for them than Greyback’s victims. “Actually, yes. Wait here for a moment, then we’ll go to the end of Birch Street…no, wait,” Harry frowned, pulling up a mental map of Spellbridge. “Why don’t we start building on the other side of the bridge across the river. We can put the more rural properties, with larger plots of land there. I’m also moving Ernest’s cottage this afternoon, we can put it there as well.”

“Sure,” Sue said, not quite meeting Harry’s eyes, probably still embarrassed by her mother’s behaviour although there was no need for that because Harry certainly didn’t hold her mother’s attitude against poor Sue.

“I’ll be right back,” Harry said, turning away from them because he needed to talk to a few other people. “Quirrell! You wanted to teach, right?”

Quirrell stood waiting beside Voldemort, who was talking to Remus.

“The Galloway wolves need to be taught…well, everything,” Harry said while Quirrell nodded thoughtfully. “Do you think you can get them started on at least reading and writing, and then we can set up a more structured educational system for them later.”

“I’d be happy to do that,” Quirrell said without hesitation.

“I wouldn’t mind spending a few hours a week teaching them as well, Harry,” Remus offered and Harry gave him a grateful smile.

“They need wands,” Regulus pointed out and that drew everyone up short for a moment because they had no wandmaker. And while Harry had been able to make his own wand, he’d never specialized in it because Santika had lacked the large amount of magical creatures needed to make wands for every magical person on Sildar, so they had all continued to use staffs instead, or those with wizarding magic, like his children, used things like opals or other gemstones, like Harry had done in his youth. Thankfully, Regulus came up with a temporary solution. “I don’t mind going to Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley and buying up every second-hand wand I can find, so they’ll have at least something to start off with.”

“That should work for now,” Voldemort agreed. “In the meantime, I’ll have my people quietly put out the word that Magica is in need of a wandmaker, or at least someone who is willing to visit once or twice a year to sell custom wands here, since there isn’t enough business available here yet to sustain a business year round.”

“We need a healer as well,” Remus pointed out quietly with a glance at Voldemort. “The full moon is tomorrow and there’s always going to be some cuts and bruises and perhaps some accidents that need medical attention the morning after.”

“For now, I’ll ask Healer Calderon to visit the day after tomorrow to see to the injured,” Voldemort offered.

“Excellent,” Harry said happily, more than a little relieved to see everyone working together so well and coming up with solutions without expecting Harry himself to do all the work. He just loved being surrounded by competent people.

“Harry,” Voldemort said, taking a step closer to him. “Well done on the crowd control.”

“Not my first angry mob,” Harry said with a chuckle and a careless shrug.

Voldemort ducked his head to briefly hide his grin. “Still, I was impressed by your handling of the unreasonable complaints.” Suddenly, Voldemort looked rather apologetic, his eyebrows curving a little bit too much. “I know you’re busy, and I hate to give you extra work, but a few of my followers have agreed to move here and they need their properties transported to Magica.”

Harry released a sigh. “I’m booked for today, but I can start on that tomorrow. Do one property per day, that way I still have some time left to take care of other things.”

“That sounds like a perfectly reasonable solution,” Voldemort agreed while briefly patting Harry on the back. “When you’re ready tomorrow morning, come to my mansion and I’ll apparate us to the first property.”

“I’ll be there,” Harry said, wondering where that small shudder came from that ran through his body when Voldemort touched him. The moment ended when V landed on his shoulder, flapping his wings and glaring at Voldemort.

The hall was almost empty by now and Harry gestured at his construction crew to wait for him outside. Then he quickly summoned Auntie Eustice and asked her if she wanted to instruct Kashvi.

“I suppose I could,” Auntie Eustice said with a little sniff. “Seeing as how Voldemort is far too busy these days to do much reading, it’s not like I’d be missing much spending a few weeks away from his mansion.”

“That’s the spirit!” Harry said with a cheerful smile, before directing her to the right shop where Kashvi was waiting for her. Auntie Eustice might act as though spending time teaching others was a burden to her, but Harry knew better. Out of all his family members, Auntie Eustice had always been the most fanatical when it came to teaching magic, to Harry himself, but also to Harry’s kids and grandkids.

Then Harry called Lavender and told her to bring all his old brooms and plenty of scrap wood to the shop, so that Kashvi could get to work. When that was done, Harry joined his construction crew outside and together they strolled through Spellbridge and across the bridge where nothing but meadows awaited them.

“Let’s start with constructing a paved road,” Harry said, because the grass was thick and high there and wading through it got annoying quickly. Harry mapped out the new neighbourhood of Spellbridge while the others added paved roads where Harry told them to. Here they would put some properties with larger plots of lands, anything from five to ten acres or so.

Harry gave the Galloway wolves ten acres, which gave them some privacy, but also gave them more than enough land to grow a lot of their own food. Sue got to work transfiguring a stone wall around the whole property, while Shaun and Arnie helped Harry construct the house. Harry modelled it after some of the traditional farmhouses he’d seen around Britain, with a door and hallway in the middle and several sitting and dining rooms on either side of it. In the back he created a large kitchen with access to the cellar that could be used to store food. Upstairs Harry added two floors plus an additional attic that wasn’t quite big enough to stand up in but could be used as storage. He added three bathrooms, one per floor, and in total there were eight bedrooms, which he figured would be enough between 20 or so people. The kids could share rooms easily enough even if perhaps the adults wanted their own space.

He had Lavender deliver a whole pile of scrap wood to the house and gave his construction crew the challenge of transfiguring usable furniture out of it, since the Galloway wolves had nothing of themselves. He also asked them to add some garden beds and perhaps a chicken coop once they were done inside the house.

“Boss,” Arnie said when Harry made to leave. “What should we call this street?”

Harry frowned as he considered that. Perhaps he should keep the tree names on the other side of the river and start something new on this side. “Plant some gooseberry bushes along the outside of the wall next to the street and we’ll call it Gooseberry Lane.”

By that time Harry’s stomach was grumbling in discontent and Harry apparated home where Violet served him a delicious pork pie with some braised leeks on the side. After that Harry was off again, this time in search of Ernest, who he found at his daughter Louisa’s house. There Harry was greeted by five yapping little dogs who all seemed to think it was their personal mission to jump up against him as high as they possibly could.

“I figured I’d bring my crups over already,” Ernest said with an affectionate smile aimed at his pets. “I wasn’t sure how they’d like being moved magically. They can be particular like that, the little scallywags.”

Ernest apparated them to his cottage in Kent and it was indeed a lovely home, with a good five acres of land, probably closer to six.

“You’ll need to produce food for the community, though,” Harry pointed out as he walked around the property to add the necessary runes.

“I grow an acre or two of potatoes every year, for myself and for selling at the local muggle market in the fall,” Ernest said, indicating some bare land that looked recently turned over. “Would that do?”

“Absolutely.” Harry got the whole property prepared in under an hour and he quickly opened a portal and moved the whole thing through it. He gave Ernest’s home a nice spot beside the river, which Ernest seemed particularly chuffed about. “Welcome to Magica,” Harry told him before mounting his broom and flying home so Ernest could get settled.

Once back at his castle, Harry considered taking a nap since he was tired to the bone, but then again, he didn’t want to waste daylight hours when there was so much work to be done still. He vowed to go to bed right after dinner, though.

Since he’d spent so much time on other projects around the island he had neglected his own grounds just a bit. Aside from the orchard and the chicken coop there wasn’t much there yet. The first thing Harry did was excavate a lake right on the border between his and Voldemort’s properties. Rachel’s idea about stocking any lakes and ponds with trout was a good one, and this way both Harry and Voldemort would soon have a supply of fish to add to their menus, and to eventually sell. But first the lake needed to fill up and Harry was more than happy to let Mother Nature take care of that over the next few weeks.

Another thing he needed to do was prepare some pig pens with some grazing paddocks. Pigs loved rooting around and eating some plants and roots and grubs. Eventually, Harry wanted his pigs to forage in his woods, and he’d planted plenty of trees already, but they were still far too thin to withstand the force of a happy pig even though they now reached almost above Harry’s head. So for now his pigs were stuck in the meadows.

Harry transfigured waist-high stone walls around half acre paddocks, with little stone huts which he filled with straw where the pigs could nestle down for the night or get out of the rain. He made eight of those paddocks in total, all connected to each other, so he could easily rotate his pigs and give the paddocks some time to recover. Then Harry apparated to an English farmer in Surrey he knew sold heritage pigs.

Harry chose Gloucestershire Old Spots, which were a hardy breed, excellent foragers and they provided high quality meat and bacon. They were large pigs, pink with black spots and were traditionally kept in orchards, and that’s what Harry planned to do as well, fatten his piglets up by letting them eat all the windfall fruit in his orchards in the future. Harry went home with one bred sow who expected piglets in a couple of weeks, three young sows who hadn’t been bred yet and one unrelated boar so Harry could use him for a while yet to breed his pigs.

He also bought a whole pallet of bags of pig’s feed and made a mental note to start preparing some fields to grow corn and fodder beets because he was planning on becoming self-sufficient in the future.

Once his pigs were all safely locked in their new paddocks, the bred sow by herself and the boar temporarily shacking up with all the single girls to get them knocked up, Harry considered what else needed doing. He didn’t have seeds to grow corn or fodder beets yet, but he did have lots of seeds saved from Sildar so he might as well get a kitchen garden set up. Harry hauled wood from his dwindling pile of firewood and used that to transfigure raised garden beds close to the back of his castle. He built four rows of five large beds, which was enough to get him started. He apparated to Britain yet again, now to pick up soil and aged horse manure for his beds and once they were all filled he got his collection of seeds out and started planting. Thanks to the weather runes he’d inscribed around the island it was a mild spring and would remain that throughout the winter, so his seeds would have no problem germinating and growing even though it was now December.

Right as Harry was done sowing carrots and got ready to start sowing beets, he suddenly found himself lying on his back blinking up at a slowly darkening sky.

V sat on his chest, cackling like a maniac. “Faint, faint.”

“No,” Harry said in complete denial.

“Dumb, dumb. Faint, faint,” V insisted and Harry glared up at his companion.

“Okay, so maybe I’ve overexerted myself a little bit these past few weeks,” Harry conceded as he got up slowly, his head feeling a little bit woozy. “I’ll have Slate finish planting the beds while I have some food and sleep.”

“Death, death,” V cawed while he flew into the air.

Harry frowned up at V as he finally got to his feet and straightened himself out. Only now did he notice the many, many creatures that were spread out around his property. There must be at least thirty of them. Harry had never seen the likes of these creatures before. They looked like horses, with tight black skin wrapped around a skeletal frame. They had large, bat-like wings and glowing white eyes and they all turned to look at him the moment he stood up.

And right in the middle of all of them sat Keket, looking like a satisfied queen who had just found her new subjects to worship her.

“Death, death,” V cawed as he circled high above Harry and the weird horses.

“Okay,” Harry said while blinking his eyes, thinking perhaps he was still passed out or maybe he was having a strange hallucination. “What the fuck is going on now?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 29

Since V wasn’t giving him any useful answers, just a lot of dramatics, Harry decided to summon his family. He had neglected them over the past weeks and he knew it. But the whole unexpected truce, and dare he say it, friendship with Voldemort had upset the family dynamics more than any other thing in Harry’s long life had done before and he’d felt a little out of depth dealing with it, so he’d just avoided it instead.

But truthfully, Harry missed his family. So he brushed his thumb across his amulet and at once all of his closest family members appeared before him.

“What are those?” Harry asked, gesturing wildly to the weird skeleton horses.

“Ah,” Lily said with a bright smile. “They’re thestrals. Magical creatures associated with death. Only those who have seen someone die can see thestrals.”

“They look fearsome,” Euphemia added pointedly. “But they really are quite gentle creatures. You can even ride them after they’ve been trained.”

“They eat carrion, for the most part,” Lily said, but Harry hardly heard her because he got stuck on the idea of riding a winged skeleton horse, which was just an amazingly awesome idea.

“Yeah, carrion, all right,” Harry said absently. “But where did they come from?”

“Have you been using necromancy lately?” Charis asked with a arched brow while giving Harry a sharp look.

Harry shrugged. “When don’t I use necromancy, honestly?”

Charis rolled her eyes. “I mean, have you been using it out in the open instead of inside your well-warded castle? Somewhere the thestrals might have sensed it?”

“Actually,” Harry said slowly, when he remembered the defences he’d put up recently. “I did. I made a bunker with slumbering inferi inside, as protection against intruders.”

“There you go,” Charis said with a satisfied nod. “According to some obscure texts I once read in the Black family library, thestrals are always drawn to death magics.”

“These might even be the Hogwarts herd,” Fleamont mused as he looked between several of the others. “Wild thestrals are very skittish and avoid people as a rule. These seem very well socialized.”

“Then Hogwarts won’t have any beasts to pull the carriages,” Dorea said with a sharp laugh, looking far too amused by that idea. “The students will have to walk from Hogsmeade station. Or Dumbledore will have to pull the carriages himself.”

“Speaking of Dumbledore,” Charis said, drawing everyone’s attention to her at once, since she was the official spy keeping an eye on the headmaster. “One of the Weasley children apparently works for Gringotts and he informed Dumbledore through the floo that you had emptied the Potter and Black vaults, Harry.” Charis paused while Harry gave her a confused look. “Dumbledore was very upset at that bit of news. Demanded that the Weasley boy find out what had been said between you and the goblin chief. And later he blew up his own bookcase in anger at the idea of you taking your gold and leaving Britain.”

“Why would the old man care what I do with my Gringotts vaults?” Harry asked, genuinely baffled why Dumbledore would react in such a way.

“Oh no,” James said, expression shifting from a heavy frown to an almost anxious look with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “Oh no, he wouldn’t.”

“What?” Lily demanded as she rushed towards her husband.

“Speak up, man,” Patroclus barked, narrowing his eyes at his grandson.

“Lils, remember when Dumbledore insisted we write that temporary will? Right after Harry was born,” James said while he shook his head over and over again in what might be a form of denial.

Lily stared at her husband while she furrowed her brows in confusion. “You mean that scrap of parchment? We never officially filed that as our will.”

“Ah,” Dorea said, nodding in understanding. “But if you signed it and you never got around to filing an official will to dispute its contents, then an unofficial will would still hold up in court.”

“We named Harry our heir, naturally,” James explained to his family, who were all giving him curious looks. “But since Harry was the target of a prophecy, or so we thought, we also named others to inherit our possessions, just in case.”

“Sirius, Remus and Peter,” Lily said, and then she suddenly widened her eyes. “Oh no. In case Sirius, Remus and Peter would be unable to inherit as well, we named Dumbledore and Hogwarts as the final recipients.”

“Exactly,” James said while he bowed his head. “It explains why Dumbledore had Sirius executed in that absurd trial, and why he would react with anger at hearing that Harry took his gold out of Britain.”

“Harry, you need to make an official will as soon as you can,” Henry said while several of the others agreed with vigorous nods. “Go to the goblins first thing in the morning and file an official will. They will charge you a few galleons, but it will be worth it to keep our family’s wealth out of the hands of that great manipulator.”

“I can’t believe he’d do that,” Lily said, her face a picture of disbelief and grief. “That Dumbledore would betray our family like this, after everything we’ve done for him.”

“The old man still believes in that ridiculous prophecy,” Auntie Eustice pointed out, her nose wrinkled while she tilted her chin up. “He probably believes Harry will die at the hands of Voldemort soon enough, so naturally Harry has no need for the family’s gold.”

“Again that stupid prophecy,” Harry muttered, just as V came flying down and landed on his shoulder.

“Harry faint, Harry faint,” V cawed while pulling on Harry’s ear, the little tattletale.

“Wait, what?” Lily said, floating closer to Harry and giving him a good onceover. “Did you faint? Have you been sleeping enough?”

Harry quickly held up both hands. “It’s nothing. I’ve just been busy and I missed a couple of hours of sleep these last few nights. I’ll go to bed soon.”

“You’ll go to bed now,” Lily insisted, eyes narrowed, making shooing motions with her hands.

“Mum!” Harry felt about six years old again while his mother acted like that. “I’m almost a century and a half old, seriously. I’m going to have some dinner and then I’ll go to bed, promise.” Harry quickly turned to look at the rest of his family. “Does anyone else have anything to report?”

Henry briefly raised his hand to get everyone’s attention. “The rumours of you leaving Britain have definitely taken over the ministry. Fudge is very unsure how he should react that that. He’s afraid the public will somehow blame him for losing their beloved Boy Who Lived.”

“Amelia Bones seemed rather conflicted for a while after Sirius’ trial,” Bernadine said next. “But she seemed to have shrugged off any concerns and it’s business as usual again.”

“All right, thanks,” Harry said when no one else had anything to report. “Euphemia, could you take over covering Voldemort for the coming weeks. Auntie Eustice is training a new broom maker.”

“Of course,” Euphemia said with an agreeable smile. “Your young assistants aren’t getting up to any mischief, so they’ll be fine on their own.” Harry had asked his grandmother to keep an eye on Hermione, Ron and Neville, mostly to make sure they wouldn’t get into anything over their heads while working for Harry.

“Young Kashvi is a delight to instruct,” Auntie Eustice said with a tight but proud smile. “She’s very eager to learn, very hardworking, and very respectful. I will turn her into Europe’s best broom maker in no time at all, mark my words.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Harry turned towards his father. “Dad, I’ll send you back to Sirius and Remus if you want,” Harry said while giving his father a pointed look. “As long as you tell anyone who sees you that you’re a ghost.” Harry glanced around his family members. “That goes for all of you.”

“I promise,” James said solemnly. “I agree it’s probably for the best to not divulge all your powers all at once. Ease people into it a bit.”

Harry nodded and then looked at Dorea and Charlus. “Why don’t you go visit with Rigel for the evening? He’s got his own caves in the mountain.” While Charlus and Dorea flew off Harry thanked the rest of his family before dismissing them back to their posts.

“Food, food,” V cawed, pulling on Harry’s ear again.

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry sighed, giving the thestrals one last long look before turning back to his castle. Keket was darting around amongst the thestrals, even though it was almost dark now, and she seemed to have a great time so Harry left her to it. V was right that Harry needed to eat and then needed to sleep.

Just as Harry entered the castle through the backdoor he heard knocking on his front door.

Igor shuffled across the hallway while Harry quietly groaned in frustration. He just wanted some peace and quiet and he was fully prepared to send whoever it was away again to come back another time.

Surprisingly it was Voldemort who nodded at Igor and walked inside the castle without hesitation. Then he saw Harry, who stood leaning against the wall in the hallway and he gave Harry a slightly worried look. “Is this a bad time? You look a bit pale.”

“Have you eaten?” Harry asked, pushing himself away from the wall. “Because I’m starving and you can tell me whatever you want to tell during dinner. After that I’m kicking you out.”

“Sleep, sleep,” V cawed, just to get the message across a bit more.

Voldemort nodded in understanding. “I haven’t had dinner yet so I’ll gladly join you. I have come to the conclusion that Magica needs a constitution.”

“Huh?” Harry led Voldemort to the kitchen instead of the fancy dining room. He just wanted a simple, hot meal instead of a three course dinner.

Voldemort hurried to catch up with Harry. “Dear Mrs Stout’s objections this morning illustrated that Magica needs to protect its core values a bit better, especially when people might change the laws in the future.”

Harry sat down at the kitchen table and gestured at Voldemort to sit down across from him, which he did with no comment on Harry’s choice of location. “Igor, wine for two! Violet, make some more of those pork pies I had this afternoon, for two this time.”

“Eurgh!”

“Eep!”

Voldemort glanced around in clear amusement for a moment at Harry’s servants before he pulled a scroll from his robes. “I have taken the liberty to create a draft that describes the principles on which Magica is founded.”

“That no one category of magic can ever be made illegal,” Harry guessed as he accepted the scroll and unrolled it.

“Exactly,” Voldemort said with a quick nod.

Igor arrived to serve them wine and Harry took that time to read over the scroll, which basically said exactly that by using a lot of fancy words. “This looks good,” Harry said as he rolled the paper up again. “But there needs to be an addition.” Harry leaned forwards a little and gave Voldemort a pointed look. “That no sentient magical being will ever be denied a place in Magica, and that no one will ever be treated differently based on their heritage.”

Voldemort pursed his lips for a moment before giving a slow nod. “I suppose we can add that as well.”

Harry gave his new friend his brightest smile just when Violet served them both a plate of pork pie and braised leeks. “I’ll ask Sirius, Remus and Regulus for some ideas as well to add to a constitution,” Harry said, digging into his pie. “Just in case we’re missing something.”

“I’ll give you a revised copy tomorrow you can show to your friends,” Voldemort agreed and took a bite of his pork pie. He raised both eyebrows and made a satisfied humming noise. “This is excellent pork pie,” he said after swallowing his bite.

“Isn’t it?” Harry agreed happily, and went back to demolishing his own plate of food. After most of it was gone, Harry sat back and sipped his wine. “I’ve been thinking about people’s reactions to Sirius, and how they would react to prisoners from Azkaban who actually are guilty of certain violent crimes.”

Voldemort sipped his wine as well and gave a thoughtful nod. “You have a good point,” he conceded. “I have been considering this dilemma as well. Breaking out prisoners from a British prison and letting them live in freedom on Magica isn’t going to do us any favours on the international stage once Magica becomes public knowledge.”

“Yeah, Dumbledore and his cronies might even use that as evidence we’re not a separate country, but just a bunch of criminals hiding away on an island somewhere,” Harry agreed since he could very well understand how such a thing might play out, especially now that he realized Dumbledore wanted him dead. “That reminds me, I need to go to Gringotts first thing tomorrow to make an official will. Apparently Dumbledore has a very old, unofficial will from my parents that he’s using to try to get at my gold. That’s why he was so eager to get rid of Sirius.”

“I had wondered why the old man wanted to do away with one of his own followers,” Voldemort mused with a small frown. “Plain old greed certainly explains it. And I’m more than happy to accompany you to Gringotts tomorrow before taking you to the Malfoys.”

“It’s a deal.” Harry emptied his wineglass and thought about a refill but then realized he really should just go to bed. But he enjoyed Voldemort’s company and didn’t want to kick the man out just yet. Dilemmas, dilemmas. “About the Azkaban prisoners,” Harry said, wanting to have some sort of plan in place before they even thoughts about breaking into the prison.”

“We can hide their identities,” Voldemort suggested with a wave of his hand. “Give them new identities, as a second cousin or something.”

“But people would still notice that,” Harry said with a snort. “Tons of people break out of Azkaban and disappear and mysteriously all their long lost second cousins show up a week later.”

Voldemort threw his head back and laughed, which made Harry somehow feel very satisfied, seeing Voldemort so thoroughly amused by something Harry had said. “You do make a good point. The best solution would be to hide the fact that they’ve escaped in the first place.”

Harry frowned and fuck it, he grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled his glass anyway. This conversation was too good and too important to cut short. He poured more wine in Voldemort’s empty glass as well. “How would you do that? Polyjuice potion?”

“Polyjuice potion would wear off after an hour.”

“Oh,” Harry said, sitting up a little as a thought struck him. “We can bring people with us to Polyjuice into the prisoners, and then kill them and make it look like a plague or something.”

“Hmm.” Voldemort took a long sip of wine as he stared at Harry with narrowed eyes. “That idea has potential. What sort of plague, though?”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno, but I’m sure we can come up with something. Or perhaps create something new that no one’s heard of before.”

“Yes, that certainly has a good chance of working and hiding any escapes,” Voldemort said before tilting his head and giving Harry a challenging look. “Where would you get expendable magical people to kill though?”

“Fuck,” Harry said while he briefly hung his head. “It’s too bad I already turned Fenrir’s pack into inferi.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Oh, I haven’t told you yet,” Harry said, warming up to the subject, eager to share his recent work. “I’ve created a bunker with slumbering inferi, in case of a muggle invasion. I plan on building these bunkers all around the island, but I need a lot of inferi to fill them all, so it might be a few years yet before that project is complete.”

Voldemort sat back with a secretive smile on his face while giving Harry an undeniably fond look. “As it so happens, I have a few hundred inferi that have lost their jobs thanks to Regulus.”

“What?” Harry asked, staring at Voldemort in confusion.

“The cave where I had hidden my locket was protected by a few hundred inferi,” Voldemort explained patiently.

“Ah,” Harry said and then gave Voldemort a pleading look. “Could you pretty please bring your inferi to the island to fill up the bunkers I’ll be digging in the near future?”

“I can certainly do that,” Voldemort said and toasted Harry with his glass of wine.

Harry repeated the toast and emptied his glass of wine again. Why was it that anytime he met with Voldemort they ended up talking about dead bodies and having an amazing time doing it? Harry didn’t know the answer to that, but he also didn’t particularly care. He was just glad to have someone to discuss all these subjects with. He’d genuinely worried that once he was stuck in the wizarding world he’d never find someone like that again since everybody else Harry met always freaked out at the idea of reanimating the dead.

“I’ll leave you to get some much needed sleep,” Voldemort said after finishing his own wine. “Thank you again for an excellent dinner.”

“Did you get your own house-elf yet?” Harry asked as he stood up while Voldemort did the same.

“Not yet,” Voldemort said while following Harry out of the kitchen. “But tomorrow we’re visiting the Malfoys, and they have a plethora of the things, so perhaps they’ll let me buy one of them.”

Harry perked up as they walked through the hallway. “Do you think they have lots of house-elves buried around their property?”

Voldemort chuckled and shook his head, though it looked like a fond gesture. “They probably should. You can always set that as your price for moving their mansion.”

“Excellent idea,” Harry said with a happy smile and then he noticed Voldemort’s amused look and he pointed a finger at the other man. “You may think my obsession with house-elf inferi is funny, but just you wait until I have a small army of them that will farm the lands here in Magica and keep us all fed.”

“You won’t hear me complain about your plans for a house-elf inferi army, dearest,” Voldemort said with a crooked smile just as Harry opened the door for him. “It’s the rest of the people here that might not be quite so thrilled with your choice of farmers.”

“Don’t care,” Harry said with a cheeky grin and a careless shrug. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night!”

“Get some sleep,” Voldemort said while glancing at Harry over his shoulder and then he disappeared into the night.

Harry went straight to bed and barely managed to pull his clothes off before crawling under the blankets and falling asleep almost as once. He woke up again at a reasonable hour after a much needed full night of sleep and felt rested enough to face the day without any more fainting spells. Hopefully.

As Harry got dressed he glanced out his bedroom window and saw that the large herd of thestrals was still milling about his property. They would probably grow hungry soon and need feeding, so Harry apparated to Spellbridge after a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast with a hot cup of tea.

Harry was in search of a particular muggleborn wizard. Masaru Fujita was a 30-something man who’d until recently run a small courier company in London with his father. But after his father passed away unexpectedly from a heart-attack, Masaru sold the company since it had never been his own passion. Masaru heard about Magica from an old Hogwarts friend and decided to move there for an early retirement of sorts. Masaru figured if he lived frugally and grew most of his own food he could live off the money he’d earned by selling his father’s business for the rest of his life.

“Harry!” Masaru said with a bright smile when he opened the door. “I cannot tell you how good it is to live here. I didn’t even realize how much I missed using magic in my day-to-day life before I started using it again.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Harry said, genuinely pleased to see people settling in so well. “You mentioned that you loved animals and that you might want to take up some part-time work eventually, right?”

Masaru nodded while giving Harry a measured look.

“I seem to have come into the possession of a herd of thestrals,” Harry said with an almost embarrassed shrug.

“Thestrals, yeah, I know those from Hogwarts.” Masaru shook his head. “Most children in my year called me crazy when I told them I saw skeletal horses flying above the forest.” Masaru lowered his voice a little. “I’d seen my mother die in the hospital when I was a small boy, so I could see the thestrals while most others could not.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Harry said automatically with a solemn bow of his head. “I need someone to procure carrion for them on a regular basis and I assume the muggle world would be the best place to look for it.”

Masaru frowned while he tilted his head, clearly thinking things over. “Muggle farmers regularly have dead cows, pigs and sheep that die from diseases or injuries, and that they have to pay for to be disposed of properly. They could very well give those away for free if we asked them.”

“That would be great,” Harry said with a few quick nods. “Are you willing to arrange such a thing a few times a week? If you want to, this could become an official position in the future once we procure more magical animals for the island.”

“I’d be the Game Warden?” Masaru asked, visibly warming up to that idea. “It’s just that I’ve set up my garden and I’ve decided to breed some heritage breed chickens, but that doesn’t take up much time and I’m getting rather bored doing nothing all day.”

Harry chuckled and gave Masaru a thumb’s up. “You’re hired, Game Warden. You’re also welcome to start thinking about what other magical creatures to add to the island. And just dump the carrion near my property. I’m sure the thestrals will find it.”

“I’ll make sure they’ll get fed today,” Masaru said with a small bow, and Harry thanked him before flying towards Gaunt Mansion to collect Voldemort for their planned adventures that day.

“I never realized this before,” Harry said the moment Voldemort opened the door for him. “How many muggleborns get educated at Hogwarts and then have to find work in the muggle world because no one will hire them in the wizarding world.”

Voldemort snorted in clear amusement. “I see you’ve finally realized that nepotism is as alive in the wizarding world as it is in the muggle world.”

“Huh?” Harry said, unfamiliar with that word.

“It means that people usually prefer to hire their family and friends, or at least people they have some connection to through shared acquaintances,” Voldemort explained while he shut the door behind himself and joined Harry in the garden. “And muggleborns have no connections in the wizarding world, so in a job market with limited jobs available due to the small size of the wizarding world they will always be the last to be hired.”

“That’s just not right,” Harry said with a frown while V landed on his shoulder and pecked at Voldemort’s shoulder for standing too close.

Voldemort ignored the bird and shrugged. “It is what it is. I had the highest NEWT scores Hogwarts had ever seen and even I had trouble finding a decent job straight out of Hogwarts. While I made friends amongst the purebloods in my house, their parents mostly thought of me as an upstart half-blood who needed to be taken down a peg or two.”

“So what did you do?” Harry asked, eager to hear about Voldemort’s earlier years.

“I found a job at Borgin and Burkes, a shop in Knockturn Alley that specializes in the more…obscure magical artifacts.” Voldemort didn’t seem concerned about revealing this sort of information. “At that point I had already decided to become a Dark Lord and launch a campaign against the Ministry so I wasn’t too worried about my official career path.”

Harry chuckled and gave Voldemort a fond look. The more time Harry spent with the man, the more he genuinely started liking him and his sharp sense of humour. “Well, what this means, I suppose, is that we can expect many more muggleborns to want to move to Magica.”

Voldemort pulled a scroll from his robes and handed it to Harry. “And thanks to our revised constitution, they now have the undeniable right to do so.”

“Thanks.” Harry tucked the scroll away into his satchel.

“Gringotts first,” Voldemort said while placing his hand on Harry’s shoulder, and he apparated them both to Diagon Alley.

“Oh.” Harry stopped walking when he remembered something. Seriously, he really should keep better track of his to-do lists. “I just remembered that Regulus and Sirius gave Grimmauld Place to me to sell.”

“The goblins can sell real estate for you,” Voldemort said while Harry fell into step with him again. “They will charge you for it, naturally, but they are the best choice for selling more expensive properties, and a town house in London is quite valuable.”

“I’ll ask about it at the bank then,” Harry said and soon enough they reached Gringotts.

Thankfully it wasn’t very busy and Harry asked for a consultant to file a will and sell some property. The will was easy enough to arrange. It cost a flat rate of fifteen galleons and Harry signed it in blood, with one copy for himself and one filed at Gringotts. Harry left all his riches to Magica, to be used for the development of the country, in the case of his untimely death.

Selling Grimmauld Place took a bit of haggling, since the goblin wanted twenty percent of the sale price but Harry managed to negotiate him down to ten percent. Plus a one-time fee of 150 galleons for a curse-breaker to examine the property and do away with any problematic magic. Harry signed the contract and thus Grimmauld Place was officially on the market.

Just as they left the bank, Voldemort halted and Harry stopped as well, giving him a curious look. “Since you seem so eager to bring the disenfranchised to Magica,” Voldemort said softly while he looked towards a dark corner beside the bank. “It might be a good idea to start recruiting future citizens from Knockturn Alley.”

“I didn’t even realize people lived there,” Harry said as he stared at the dark corner with a healthy sense of curiosity.

Voldemort gave him a look as though he’d just said something very silly. “Of course people live there. Mostly those that the ministry sooner forgot even existed.”

Harry was now feeling genuinely confused. “Like what sort of people?”

“The poor, the disabled. Hags and vampires. That sort of thing.”

“Wow,” Harry said, burning with curiosity. “And you worked there once?”

“Lived there, too,” Voldemort said while pulling on Harry’s elbow to follow him. “Come, let’s take a look. The Malfoys can wait for an hour.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 30

The moment Harry entered the narrow, shadowy alley a thick wave of dark magic washed over him, almost like a warm welcome.

“Wow,” Harry breathed as he followed Voldemort inside the alley. Voldemort glanced over his shoulder with a quirked eyebrow, so Harry said in a whisper, “The magic here is so… heady. We need this in Magica.”

Voldemort chuckled. “Convince enough people here to move to our island and you will have it.”

As they progressed through the narrow street with its dark walls and blackened shop windows and cobblestones beneath their feet, Harry sent out his powers to see what sort of souls lived in a wonderful place like this. Almost at once he found a dual soul of a werewolf just up ahead, tucked away in a small alcove. Harry pushed past Voldemort and stepped inside the alcove to see a middle-aged man sitting on the ground, dark hair unwashed, pale face grimy. The werewolf gave Harry a glare in clear warning, but Harry wasn’t so easily intimidated and he crouched down to speak to the man on his level.

“You don’t have to live like this,” Harry said, getting straight to the point. “There is an island where you can move right now, where you’ll get a home and Wolfsbane potion so you’ll have a peaceful shift tonight.”

The man snorted and shook his head in disbelief. “Yeah, I heard those rumours. That’s just a trap. There will be Aurors waiting and they’ll chuck you into Azkaban and throw away the key.”

Harry pursed his lips briefly, not having anticipated this kind of response. Then again, with the amount of anti-werewolf laws the ministry had been passing for years, perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised some would believe it was a trap instead of a real magical island where werewolves could live and run free.

“Do I look like an Auror?” Harry asked with a crooked grin, briefly spreading his arms. “I’m Harry Potter, and I made Magica with my own two hands. Tonight the werewolves there will run together in the wilds, as they should be able to do every full moon.” Harry bent his head a little to look the man in the eyes. “Where will you be tonight?”

The man blinked and stared at Harry with his mouth slightly opened. “Are you really Harry Potter?”

Harry nodded slowly and pointed at his forehead where a very faint scar was still visible. It used to be red and much more pronounced but after the Figures created V, the scar had healed and was now barely visible anymore. Most of the time Harry even forgot he had it.

“Live free, live free,” V cawed while clapping his beak at the man. “Be wolf, be wolf.”

“Hah,” the man said with a harsh laugh. “I’ll be wolf in The White Wyvern tonight. They rent out their reinforced cellar to all the local werewolves for a few sickles each every full moon.”

Getting out his wand, Harry picked up a random rock and charmed it into a portkey. Then he handed it to the man. “This is a portkey to town square in Spellbridge that will activate in an hour. You’ll find Remus Lupin in Town Hall, he’ll give you Wolfsbane potion and assign you your own home.”

“What’s the catch?” the man asked, staring at the rock in his hands as though it might explode at any moment. “There’s got to be a catch.”

Harry relaxed his shields a little and let some of his powers out in a way others could sense it. The man’s eyes widened at once as he looked up at Harry. “I’m a necromancer,” Harry whispered. “The British ministry would see me executed right away, so I made my own country where all magic is legal. That’s it.”

The man nodded slowly, staring at the rock in his hands again, but now with more curiosity than fear. “I’m Sebastian Parkinson, oldest son of a prominent pureblood family, not that this did me any good once I got infected. My parents disowned me and they’ll leave everything to my sister and brother when they die. Look at me now, living in the dirt.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Harry said, wanting so badly for this man to believe him because he knew just moving to Magica could turn his man’s life around. “I can sense more werewolves in the alley, seven if I’m correct. Do you know who they are?”

“Yeah, I know them,” Sebastian said, narrowing his eyes again in suspicion.

“Take them along. You’re all welcome in Magica,” Harry said in as convincing a tone as he could muster. “Talk to them and have them all touch the portkey. I swear you won’t regret it.”

Sebastian nodded and went back to staring at the rock. “I’ll have a chat with them.”

“All right.” Harry got up again, realizing there wasn’t much more he could say to Sebastian now. The man needed to make up his own mind. “I sincerely hope I’ll see you in Magica later today.”

And with that Harry turned around to see Voldemort leaning against a wall, arms crossed, waiting patiently until Harry was done with his first recruitment of the day.

“We’ll head to the pub first,” Voldemort suggested once they started walking again. “We can get the word out about Magica there.”

“Maybe we should print brochures,” Harry said, only half-kidding. It could be rather tough to convince strangers that a magical utopia actually existed, let alone that they should move there sight unseen.

Voldemort snorted and shook his head. “What an excellent idea. Someone leaves it lying around or throws it away in a public place and before we’re ready the whole world will know about it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry sighed. “For now word-of-mouth is still the best method of recruitment.”

Voldemort glanced at Harry and his face softened a little. “We can barely keep up with all the new residents as it is, Harry. Just be patient, and we’ll give everyone a new home soon enough.”

That was the thing, wasn’t it? Harry was just impatient and he hated seeing people down on their luck because of something they had no control over and because other people were a bunch of prejudiced bastards. Still, Voldemort had a good point. They would get everyone to Magica eventually.

“Here we are,” Voldemort said as they stopped in front of a pub with black windows and a wooden sigh above the door that said The White Wyvern. They entered into a dark vestibule with another solid door that led into the pub itself, which was cast in shadows with only a few candles burning around the room.

“Good morning,” the pubkeeper said from where he stood behind the counter. “What can I get you fine gentlemen?”

“Two beers,” Voldemort said as he walked towards the counter.

Harry meant to follow him but he stopped dead in his tracks the moment he cast out his powers around the mostly empty pub. There in the corner around a round table sat about six reanimated dead bodies. It was the most peculiar thing and Harry gazed at them with wide eyes. Their bodies were definitely dead and some external magic was definitely animating them, but at the same time they had souls.

All six of the corpses, four men and two women, looked up and stared right back at Harry as their mouths slowly dropped open.

“They’re vampires,” Voldemort whispered into his ear, pressing a full pint of beer into his hand.

Harry automatically took a healthy gulp and then decided to go talk to the corpses. What amazing creatures they were, truly. Meanwhile, Voldemort rolled his eyes and went back to explain who they were and why they were there to the barkeep, who was probably the best source of recruitment for all the people living around Knockturn Alley.

“Hi there,” Harry said as he reached the table of vampires. He might have just sounded a little besotted but he didn’t care. Seeing reanimated bodies with souls and a full consciousness was simply astonishing to someone in his profession.

“You’re a necromancer,” the female vampire closest to him said, and funnily enough, she sounded just as besotted as Harry had done. “We haven’t seen one of you in a long time.”

“Who are you?” the man opposite him asked.

“Harry Potter.”

“You are not Harry Potter,” the woman said with a surprised laugh. “Harry Potter is not a necromancer!”

Harry shrugged. “I’m afraid he is. He is also looking for residents for his brand-new country Magica. You get free housing. Interested?”

“What?” the woman said, now looking as though she’d just heard the funniest joke ever.

And so Harry gave a nice little presentation on Magica, why he’d made it and what their goals were and after five minutes he had six vampires ready to move to Magica at once and proclaim Harry their eternal leader.

“You just need to arrange blood for us,” the woman, who was named Daniella, said with a pointed look. “We’ve got a squib named Harris Firth who buys bags of blood from muggle hospitals under the table who provides us now.”

“Invite Harris to move to Magica as well,” Harry said easily. “We welcome squibs, too.”

“This is real, right?” Emir said, while Gianluca, Shiv and Kianna looked equally torn between elation and fear. “You’re not messing with us, are you, mate?”

“It’s real, I promise,” Harry said with a solemn nod. “You can start your own business, we provide interest-free loans for that, too.”

“Mate, mate!” Gianluca said as he almost bounced right out of his chair in sheer enthusiasm. “I used to be a chef, before I got turned. I’d love to open a little restaurant.”

“We don’t have one yet,” Harry said, happy his new residents were so eager to start a business. “You can start a restaurant that only opens after dark, naturally, and call it midnight dining. I’ll be your first customer.”

“You’ll be cooking,” Montell said with a huge grin while he pointed a finger at Gianluca. “But you’ll be needing us to run that restaurant. Man the bar, serve the tables.”

“We can all start this restaurant together,” Shiv said while Daniella threw her arm around his shoulders and pressed a loud kiss to his cheek. “We’d be right proper business people!”

“We’d be happy to have you,” Harry said while drinking the last of his beer. “Write Remus Lupin, he’ll get you a portkey. I can make some subterranean houses for you, that have plenty of rooms below ground so you can safely move around during the day.

Shiv jumped up from his seat and threw his arm around Harry’s shoulder, pulling him close. “This here is our king, I’m telling you. Harry, mate, you give us all of that and we will be in your debt for a long time.”

V, who sat on Harry’s other shoulder, reached around the back of Harry’s head to peck at Shiv’s ear, but the vampire didn’t even seem to notice.

Harry grinned at Shiv, ignoring V’s dramatics as usual. “Invite all your vampire buddies to join us, we’ve got plenty of space.”

Shiv looked like he was getting a little teary eyed and he gave Harry a smacking kiss on his cheek. “Fuck, your magic feels amazing, mate. Are you single?”

V pecked Shiv again, harder this time.

Voldemort was there suddenly, giving Harry an amused smile. “The barkeep, Ruben Lyon, is more than willing to get the word out about Magica. He might also be interested in having his entire pub moved there eventually if enough of his regulars decide to relocate.”

“Sure,” Harry agreed easily, stepping away from Shiv, who immediately gave a disappointed sigh and sat back down again. “I’ll see you lot in Magica soon,” Harry said to the vampires, who all called out their goodbyes.

“Vampires are amazing!” Harry said to an exasperated Voldemort once they stood outside the pub again.

“Only you would say that,” Voldemort said while leading Harry deeper into Knockturn Alley. “Most people look at them as some type of vermin.”

“No,” Harry said, genuinely shocked by that idea. “They’re wonderful. They feel like… coming home, almost.”

“Spoken like a true afficionado of dead bodies,” Voldemort said with a teasing grin while he bumped his elbow against Harry’s side.

“Oh, can we go in here?” Harry asked when they passed a shop named The Slaughterhouse – Furs and Skins. “I need a new fur cloak, and I don’t have time to go hunting by myself these days.” Harry’s beloved fur cloak was burned and singed beyond repair by the dragon, but Harry still wore it, stubborn as he was.

Voldemort gestured at Harry to enter the shop before him, and Harry smiled as he walked inside and saw dozens and dozens of leather skins and all sorts of fur pelts hanging from the wooden ceiling.

“How can we help you fine gentlemen today?” a low, throaty voice came from the shadows behind the counter, and slowly a stooped old woman with a pronounced nose, her face covered in warts, appeared and gave them a squinty-eyed look.

“I need a new fur cloak,” Harry said shrugging off his old cloak and holding it out for her to see.

Another woman stepped out of the shadows, looking a lot like the first one but she was just about an inch taller. “Aye, that one has seen better days. Stood too close to your fireplace?”

“Nah, kidnapped a dragon,” Harry said with a cheeky grin and a wink.

Both women cackled in delight and waved him closer and while they examined his burned cloak Harry asked them who they were.

It turned out they were hags, and sisters, and their names were Midge and Marge.

“We can make you something like this easily enough,” Midge said while folding Harry’s cloak. “Any preferences for the type of fur?”

“Nah,” Harry said as he leaned an elbow on the counter. “Just make sure it’s black. It hides the blood better.”

Midge and Marge cackled again and Harry decided he liked the old biddies. “So why are hags looked down upon by the rest of the wizarding world?” Harry asked, since he was genuinely curious about that.

Midge snorted and shook her head. “They say we eat children.” She pointed between herself and her sister. “We don’t eat children.”

“Often,” Marge added, and they cackled again, with Harry joining in this time.

“Seriously, though,” Midge said after they all caught their breaths. “Centuries ago the wizards didn’t like an all-female magical race that could do magic without a wand, so they made up horrible stories about us to make sure no one would want us around. Eventually they made laws to keep us down.”

Marge shrugged. “We like our meat raw, it’s true, but we don’t eat humans. You all taste funny anyway.” Then she squinted her eyes as she looked at V. “Though your bird looks delicious.”

“Bad hag, no eat!” V screeched, flapping his wings while Marge snickered in response.

“On Magica, you’d be free to live your lives without any restricting laws,” Harry said, now putting both elbows on the counter so he could look the sisters in the eyes. V leaned as far back as he could without falling off Harry’s shoulder.

“What’s Magica?” Midge asked while Marge narrowed her squinty eyes.

“Let me tell you,” Harry said, and he did, and by the time he was done Midge and Marge were exchanging lots of quiet looks with each other.

“Is that where all the werewolves went?” Midge asked as she looked down at Harry over her large nose.

“There’s been a lot of rumours that the ministry was catching werewolves left and right and locking them up,” Marge said, looking like she wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.

“Those werewolves are all living safely on Magica, I promise,” Harry said with a reassuring smile. “I just talked to some vampires and they’re all eager to join us, too.”

“Damn,” Midge said with a frown. “They’re some of our best customers.”

“They’ve got a flair for the dramatics, vampires do.” Marge gestured at her own shoulders. “They like to accessorize with lots of fur collars.”

Midge snickered. “Don’t forget the leather trousers. For some reason, they all got to have leather trousers.”

“You’re welcome to move to Magica,” Harry said, looking between the sisters. “If you’re willing to live above your shop you get the store for free.”

Midge’s eyes widened as she quickly glanced at Marge. “That alone makes it worth it for us.”

Marge wrinkled her large nose, several warts protruding from her face even more. “All those proper wizards hating on us and others in the alley, but they sure do like to buy up all the property here and then charge us ridiculous amounts of rent.”

“Just sent Remus Lupin an owl, and he’ll put you on the list and send you a portkey,” Harry said with one last smile. “I’ll come back in a few days for my cloak.”

“We’ll see you then, wizard,” Midge said while Marge waved cheerfully.

Voldemort had once again stood to the side, arms crossed, observing Harry quietly, but he gave no indication this was at all a burden for him. If anything, he seemed very amused by the situation. “You were made to do this,” Voldemort said once they stepped into the alley again.

“What?” Harry asked with a confused frown.

“This.” Voldemort waved his hand around, gesturing at the entire alley. “Talking to all these different races and getting them to trust you.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry said, still frowning as he gave Voldemort a questioning look. “I just talk to these people. They’re no different than you and I.”

Voldemort briefly pointed a finger at him. “That, right there. I suppose it must be easy for you to see everyone here as equal, since you weren’t raised with the usual prejudices inherent to the wizarding world.”

“I suppose,” Harry said, still sounding a little dubiously. “I just don’t see why I should treat any of them any differently.”

“You shouldn’t,” Voldemort said in a soft voice, giving Harry a reassuring smile. “You’re accomplishing something no one has managed to in a long time.”

“What?”

“Reuniting all magical races,” Voldemort whispered and he stepped a little closer. “I am convinced it is essential we do so for when the muggles will discover us, and I have tried to do so for decades and only achieved a fraction of what you managed in an hour here.”

“I just want magical people to have a home they can live their lives in without fear and restrictions,” Harry said honestly, feeling a little overwhelmed by Voldemort’s words.

Voldemort nodded. “And that’s why you’re successful and I failed. I expected far too much in return and got very little. You want nothing in return and people want to give you everything.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to say to that and Voldemort let it rest as well, and they continued their stroll through Knockturn Alley. They visited a few more stores, like Mr Mulpepper’s Apothecary, a potions shop that was very interested in moving to Magica for the same reason Midge and Marge had been, namely the exorbitant rents they were charged by the rich property owners. Harry bought some antique rune carving tools that appealed to him in Ye Olde Curiosity Shop while Voldemort explained Magica to an interested shopkeeper. Finally they visited Borgin and Burkes, where Voldemort had a little chat with a terrified looking Mr Burke while Harry found a few interesting old tomes on curses and poisons that he bought for his own collection.

After Harry tucked all his purchases into his satchel, Voldemort grabbed his shoulder and apparated them to Malfoy Manor where an impatient Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were waiting for him.

“I have to give you access to my wards,” Lucius said, entire face pinched in obvious distaste.

“If you want me to move your property,” Harry said with a grin, entirely too amused to see two stuck-up people so put out by his demands but being unable to change anything about it. “Also, I’ll be requiring some payment.”

“Name your price,” Lucius said, making it sound like he couldn’t care less how much gold Harry desired.

“I want all the house-elves that are buried on your property,” Harry said, and then cherished the almost outraged looks Lucius and Narcissa gave him.

“Pardon?” Narcissa said, her already pale face paling a bit more. “You want our… dead house-elves?”

“Yep. I’ll dig them up myself. Just tell me where they’re buried.” Harry waited expectantly while Lucius and Narcissa exchanged several pointed looks.

“Very well,” Narcissa said finally with a small sigh. “They are buried behind the Abraxan stables, to the west of the manor house.”

“Thank you,” Harry said with a polite nod which Narcissa studiously ignored.

“Will all the animals be safe when you move the property?” Lucius asked, still looking a bit pinched. “Aside from the Abraxan, we have a large flock of Bluefaced Malfoy Down sheep, the only ones in the world. Our family has created them centuries ago and has bred them ever since.”

“Excellent,” Harry said while he clapped his hands. “Since you have so much property you’ll be expected to produce food for the community. Keeping sheep certainly counts for that. And all your animals will be fine, don’t worry.”

Lucius was looking entirely putout again and Harry happily ignored him. While Voldemort negotiated with Lucius to buy one of his house-elves, Harry quickly popped over to the Abraxan stables to accept his payment. He dug up seven useable house-elf corpses. Seven! Harry was elated by this rich bounty and happy he was one step closer to his very own house-elf inferi army.

The grounds around Malfoy Manor were huge and quite diverse, Harry was happy to see as he flew slowly around the grounds to add the necessary runes. There was lots of grazing land for the sheep, divided by natural hedgerows which offered habitats for lots of birds and rodents, but there was also plenty of mature woodland which teemed with all sorts of wildlife. All the birds and small critters and microscopic life would only be good for Magica’s growing ecosystem. There were also some ornamental gardens, a large kitchen garden and some nicely landscaped ponds with very large, colourful fish. And there were a whole bunch of white birds that kept fanning out their big tails and which caused V to caw curse words at them.

After almost two and a half hours of intense work, Harry had the property ready to move. He’d already given Slate and Lavender the order that morning to clear enough space on Magica north of Gaunt Mansion, by moving any of the young trees that Harry had planted elsewhere as to not destroy them by plopping many, many tonnes of earth on top of them. Once Harry had the property folded up it didn’t take more than ten minutes to walk it through the portal and position it into its new spot right on the coast above Voldemort’s lands.

“You might want to consider casting an illusion on the empty property,” Voldemort suggested as he gestured at the acres and acres of raw earth that were left behind in Wiltshire. “So as not to alarm the muggles and thereby alerting the ministry to your departure.”

“I’ll do it right away,” Lucius said with a little bow.

“First thing I’m doing this afternoon is finally starting on those paved streets between our properties,” Harry said as he and Voldemort waded through the tall grass back to their own homes.

“Would you like to have lunch at my mansion?” Voldemort asked with an expectant curve of his eyebrows. “We can try out the culinary skills of my new elf.”

“Sure,” Harry said happily, since he was actually starving after their busy morning.

Voldemort’s new elf, a bouncy little thing called Dobby, prepared them a lovely lunch of shepherd’s pie and a blackberry fool for afters, and Harry ate his fill as he chatted about all sorts of interesting subjects with Voldemort.

“I really have to go,” Harry said with some genuine regret once the meal was finished. He really enjoyed spending time with Voldemort, but his to-do-list was three miles long and Harry was determined to shorten it at least a tiny bit that day.

Harry’s first order of business was adding to his house-elf inferi army. Once he stood inside his ritual room, he selected the three freshest corpses to start with that day and had them turned into inferi in no time. He decided to stick to the theme he’d used naming his first house-elves, and he named his new ones Lilac, Plum and Boysenberry. He immediately put them to work. He drew a rough map of Magica, and on it he drew a road that ran from Spellbridge, past Black Manor to Potter Castle and up to Gaunt Mansion and Malfoy Manor. From there Harry looped the road around the whole island, sticking close to the coast in most parts, so it would become a nice scenic route to walk or fly in the future. Then he set his new house-elves to transfiguring a nice road with red brick pavers, wide enough that two carriages could pass each other should anyone ever want to use carriages in the future. He also gave the elves several bags of seeds and nuts and instructed them to plant them beside the road so the whole thing would be lined with many kinds of trees eventually.

While his new elves got to work, Harry quickly apparated to Britain and bought several bags of seed for corn, fodder beets and oats, and handed them to Lavender and Slate with instructions to plough and plant several large fields to grow feed for the pigs.

Harry then took a short tea break in the library where he perused his to-do-list before apparating to town square. He found Remus in Town Hall behind his desk, doing some paperwork while on a different table the Wolfsbane potion was set out in single vial portions.

“Most everyone has already stopped by for a dose,” Remus said with a welcoming smile.

“Did you receive some new werewolves this morning, from Knockturn Alley?” Harry asked eagerly, wondering what had happened with Sebastian Parkinson.

“I did, yes, and thank you for the warning,” Remus said with pointed look. “We still had some homes available for them, thankfully, but we’ve run out again. The construction crew will be kept busy this week, since I have a small mountain of applications for residency to go through.”

“I’ll probably hire some more construction specialists, maybe a few of the Knockturn werewolves if they’re up for it,” Harry mused with a small frown.

“They could certainly all use jobs.”

“We’re also expecting vampires,” Harry said with a huge dose of enthusiasm. Remus merely raised his eyebrows and stared in Harry in mild disbelief. “Not sure how many, but I’m going to start building subterranean homes soon. Oh, and we’re also getting a couple of hags probably.”

Remus briefly closed his eyes, nodded once and then offered Harry an agreeable smile. “Sure. I’ll get them all registered and housed.”

“Thanks, Remus, you’re the best!” Harry gave him a cheerful wave before darting outside again. He decided to stop by Mildred in the Post Office since she always seemed well-informed about everything going on in town.

“Hello, Harry,” Mildred said, knitting away on a sock when Harry entered the post office. Harry noticed a few owls were missing, so that meant that people were using them and the business was slowly taking off. “The public pantry is finished. Erika and Claire placed it just this morning on the corner of Elder Street and Ash Drive.”

“That’s great news,” Harry said with a warm smile, happy to hear people were truly looking out for one another. “I’ll have Violet fill it up with food right away.”

“I also thought it might be a good idea to add a notice board beside the doors of Town Hall,” Mildred said, needles clacking away as she barely looked at her knitting. “Where you can post official announcements, but perhaps also for people to post things for sale or requests for help or something of that nature.”

“That is another excellent idea,” Harry said as he leaned against the doorpost. “I was considering perhaps adding a box where people can put their ideas in for the island. That way they can give us as many suggestions as they want and we can use the ones that would work best for Magica.”

“I believe the people here would like it if their voices could be heard that way,” Mildred said with an agreeable nod. “Don’t get me wrong, Harry dear, you’re doing a wonderful job, but people like to help in their own ways.”

“I’ll get right to it!” And Harry did exactly that. He put two notice boards beside the doors of Town Hall, one for official notices, and one for the public to use, and he put a nice glass door in front of them to protect them from the elements. And he also added an idea box below them, where people could drop off their suggestions. Then he stood in the centre of town square and slowly turned around, taking the whole thing in.

There was quite a bit of life there, now. There was Town Hall, the library, the pub which seemed close to completion, the post office, the small grocery store, the broom shop, and Harry was pleased to see that Louisa Hewitt had started converting one of the empty spaces into a shop that sold soap and beauty products. The sign above the door read Rosemary Crown Handmade Soaps. There was also an empty building reserved as a health clinic.

All of this was wonderful to see but also meant that town square was rapidly filling up, since there were a few businesses Harry knew were currently being run from people’s homes which in the future would also end up with a shop, like Melissa Greengrass’ tailor business.

So it was time to add more commercial spaces, with residential flats above them. Town square was a square, opening up to Walnut Lane to the south, leading to the residential area, but to the north there was only an opening between the buildings. That is where Harry went to work constructing a shopping alley, much like Diagon Alley, with a wide enough path for pedestrians and with shops on both sides. He also added a little side alley halfway up the left side, which could become an alternative Knockturn Alley, just for those who liked to keep things a bit more private when doing business. It might also be a good spot for anyone wanting to earn a living doing sex work. There were no laws forbidding sex work in Magica, as there hadn’t been in Sildar either, but apparently no one in Magica had noticed that yet.

Someone would, eventually, and they might like to set up a separate place to work in a private alley like that.

By the time the sun was setting, Harry had the rough buildings all standing, though the insides could still use some work. But the people who ended up renting them could take care of that as far as Harry was concerned. At the end of the alley he placed a large building that might one day become a Gringotts office, with two unfinished streets leading off both sides away from the alley, but he left the inside of that completely bare, figuring that the goblins would much prefer doing such construction themselves.

Since night was falling and the full moon was rising rapidly, Harry quickly apparated home, right to his castle’s doorstep. On the door he found a note stuck to the wood with a mild sticking charm.

GRAND OPENING OF THE IRISH COCK
THIS SATURDAY AT 8

Well, it seemed the pub was just about ready to go, and Harry wondered if he should ask Voldemort to go with him to have a drink.

Chapter Text

Chapter 31

Harry requested a simple dinner as he sat down at the kitchen table, and Violet made him a nice piece of fried fish, some mashed potatoes and some green beans. For afters she served him a slice of cake topped with strawberry jam and whipped cream. It was delicious and Harry sat back in his chair after he finished it all, releasing a satisfied moan.

“Watch wolves, watch wolves,” V cawed from his spot on the table. His black beak still had spots of whipped cream on it since V had enthusiastically helped Harry finish his dessert.

Harry sipped his second glass of wine. “You want to go watch the wolves? Is that even safe?”

“Fly, fly.” V flapped his wings for emphasis.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Okay, yeah, that could work. I need to drop the new copy of the constitution off at Black Manor anyway.”

And so after half an hour, when his dinner had settled a little, Harry pulled on an old, wool cloak since his fur one was currently in the making, and got on his broomstick. He took his time flying to Black Manor while he admired the paved road the elves had built that day. The moon was full so Harry had plenty of light to see by.

Regulus opened the door for him, giving him a questioning look while waving Harry inside.

“Are you moving?” Harry asked as he looked around the entrance hall which was filled with boxes and bags.

Regulus chuckled and shook his head. “No, I’m merely sorting through all the clothes the Black family as accumulated over the years. Sirius and I have no use for it, and Melissa Greengrass, the tailor, asked me for any spare clothes since she’s starting a clothing bank.”

“A what?” Harry asked.

“A clothing bank. It’s simply a name for a place that distributes second-hand clothing to those who need it for free,” Regulus explained with a shrug. “I hadn’t heard of it either, but I’m happy to help. We certainly have no need for any of these clothes, and the children that have moved to the island have nothing to wear.”

“I might dig through my own closet,” Harry said with a thoughtful frown. “I’ve gathered a fair amount of clothing as well over the years that I don’t use.”

“I’m sure Melissa will be happy to take those off your hands.” Regulus shoved a couple of bags to the side. “I’ve sent a note to cousin Cissy as well, since I’m sure she’s got plenty of old clothing to spare, from many generations of Malfoys.”

“What I actually came for is this,” Harry said now that his curiosity was satisfied. He pulled the scroll from the pocket in his cloak and handed it to Regulus. “This is a draft for a constitution. Voldemort came up with that idea, and I think it’s smart to put something like this in place.”

“To protect our right to use all magic,” Regulus guessed with a knowing little smile. “That woman certainly seemed vehement to create an uprising against the use of dark magic.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Harry said with conviction. He hadn’t created a whole new country to get away from Britain’s restrictive laws only for someone else to shit all over his new island. “And a constitution is a legal way to ensure no one will ever change our core principles. I’d like to have your opinion on it, and Sirius and Remus’ too, of course.”

Regulus nodded while he opened the scroll and gave it a quick onceover. “I’ll let you know what we think sometime tomorrow. Sirius is currently keeping Remus company, as though there aren’t another hundred werewolves roaming the land tonight for him to socialize with.”

Harry released a burst of laughter and then fondly shook his head. “Then I’ll be on the lookout for the only dog amidst the wolves.” Harry held up his broom to show Regulus what he was planning and Regulus merely looked resigned.

“Only you would go for a nice, evening flight during a full moon with werewolves running free everywhere.” Regulus gave an exaggerated shudder. “I’ll be staying safely inside if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Good luck with sorting your wardrobe.” And with that, Harry slipped out the door and mounted his broom, V flying ahead of him while cawing in excitement. It didn’t take them very long to see the first wolves running across the dark meadows to the west of Spellbridge, chasing each other through the long grass. Harry also saw some panicked sheep fleeing in terror but so far the wolves left the livestock alone from what Harry saw.

It was actually rather easy to spot Sirius and Remus. Not because of them, since Remus’ grey coat and Sirius’ black fur didn’t stand out in the darkness whatsoever, but because James was floating beside them, shimmering brightly, like a lone lighthouse in a dark storm.

“Harry!” James came floating up at once when he spotted his son while below him Remus and Sirius were chasing each other in their canine forms. “What a sight, right?”

“It’s certainly impressive, to see so many werewolves,” Harry agreed as he hovered his broom and sat back, taking on a more relaxed pose. V quickly landed on the handle of the broom and cawed a greeting at James. “I’ve never seen werewolves before, since we didn’t have them in Santika.”

James nodded in understanding and then released a wistful sigh. “This is the first time in a very long time that I truly regret not having a living body.” James gestured at the frolicking wolf and dog below them. “I miss running with those two, moving on four legs, smelling the night air.”

Harry pursed his lips for a moment before giving his dad a thoughtful glance. “I could always stick you in a reanimated body if you really wanted to be alive again.”

“As in a fresh corpse?” James asked, sounding more than a little dubiously.

“Yeah, someone who died recently. I could reanimate the body and stick your soul in it, like what I did with Rigel and the dragon body,” Harry explained. He wasn’t sure how he felt about having his parents alive again, since he’d only known them as souls he could summon, but if it was something his father truly wanted, Harry would do it.

“But I wouldn’t be me,” James mused. “I would be using someone else’s body.”

Harry shrugged and released a deep sigh. “Your soul would be the same, but you would be limited by the new body, that’s true. You might not be able to become an Animagus again, if the body isn’t suited for that kind of magic. Or you might not be as smart as you used to be, depending on the capacity of your new brain.”

“Yeah,” James said with a slow nod. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“Just let me know if you ever want something like that,” Harry said, trying to keep his tone light. He didn’t want his father to think Harry expected something like that from him.

“Harry, could you summon your mum? I think she’d enjoy seeing this spectacle as well.”

“Sure.” Harry rubbed his thumb across his amulet and in second Lily floated beside them.

“Hi, Harry, James.” Lily looked around in surprise. “Oh, are those all the werewolves running free?”

And Harry spent another hour or two chatting with his parents while they slowly flew around the island, admiring the sight of almost a hundred werewolves running wild on the night of the full moon. Harry fell into bed tired and satisfied that night and woke up refreshed once more. He had a quick breakfast of oatmeal with some baked apples, and then he briefly stopped in his library to examine his to-do-list again.

There was one important thing he should start on, but first he had to move Nott Manor, as he’d arranged with Voldemort. Before heading to Gaunt Mansion, Harry quickly flew to Spellbridge, just to see if there had been any problems throughout the night.

Healer Calderon had set up shop in the still empty health clinic. “I brought everything I need,” Healer Calderon said, waving Harry’s concerns away. “And I am more than capable of conjuring some chairs and tables for the time being.”

“I’ll have some people start on turning this into a proper health clinic, I promise,” Harry said, feeling oddly embarrassed they only had an empty building to offer the healer. “Were there any bad injuries?”

Healer Calderon shook her head. “A few cuts and bruises, as you would expect to see on people that have ran through the wilds all night.” Then she got a rather amused look on her face. “There were a few youngsters of the Galloway wolves, as they seem to be called, who explored the mountain and decided to see what happens when you tickle a sleeping dragon. They had some second degree burns, but that was the worst of the injuries I’ve seen this morning.”

Harry laughed at the idea of poor sleepy Rigel trying to get rid of some annoying young wolves set on waking him up. “Thank you for coming,” Harry said sincerely and then he aimed his most charming smile at the healer. “If you want, you’re welcome to move to Magica anytime. We’ve got free housing.”

Healer Calderon chuckled while giving Harry an amused look. “I have a successful private practice in Britain that I don’t want to leave behind as of yet. But if you ever have an emergency, you are welcome to contact me.”

“We’ll take that for now,” Harry said as he got his broom again. “Thanks for coming today, at least.” When Harry stepped out onto town square again, he noticed that Reginald Partridge had also been busy the previous afternoon. He had added a sign to his storefront that said PARTRIDGE BREAD AND PASTRIES. It seemed that soon enough they’d have a functional bakery and Harry loved the idea of flying into town first thing in the morning to buy some fresh croissants or muffins.

In fact, Harry figured others would enjoy something like that as well. Residents of Spellbridge might want to walk to the bakery in the morning and buy something to eat out of hand. Perhaps Harry should add a place for people to sit and at once he got an idea. Harry apparated to Galloway Forest Park where he roamed through the woods for a while until he found the perfect, mature tree to steal. There were so many trees there that no one would miss one full-grown beech tree, bare for the winter but Harry could tell from the leaflitter at its base that come spring it would be full of red leaves.

Harry carefully transfigured an open spot in the middle of town square where he planted the tree. He then used the stones he’d pulled up and transfigured them into a round stone bench that encircled the tree’s trunk and offered people a lovely spot to take a rest. It still left plenty of space for a weekly market with little stalls once there were enough people living on the island with things to sell.

“Did you receive an invitation for the grand opening of the Irish Cock as well?” was the first thing Harry asked Voldemort.

“I did,” Voldemort replied with an amused little smile. “I assume you’re attending, as the Governor?”

“Sure, and also because I’ve been working my arse off and wouldn’t mind an evening of drinking and merrymaking,” Harry said with a wide grin. “Want to come with?”

“I was already planning on going, but I suppose we could go together,” Voldemort said easily, and that was that. Voldemort grabbed Harry’s shoulder and apparated them to Nott Manor.

Theodorus Nott seemed far less stuck-up than the Malfoys had done. He was an older man, had been a classmate of Voldemort’s, as it turned out, and he was polite and even somewhat friendly, but he also had a shrewd glint in his blue eyes that made it clear he was by no means a fool.

“What are you planning to do with my dead house-elves,” Theodorus asked with a frown when Harry named his price.

“I need workers for Magica, to farm the land and help with construction, that sort of thing. I’ve made six house-elf inferi so far, and they’re amazingly helpful creatures,” Harry said honestly, enjoying the surprised look on Theodorus’ face.

“Well,” Theodorus said, and then remained silent for a full minute as though unsure what else to say. “I suppose that’s acceptable.” And that is how Harry gained another five useable house-elf corpses he stored away under heavy preservation charms.

“You’ll also have to provide food for the community, because you own so much land,” Harry pointed out, just to make that clear.

“We grow fifty acres of wheat every year,” Theodorus explained with a proud little smile. “We’re one of the few wheat suppliers for Ogden’s Fire-whiskey.”

“Yeah, but if you export your wheat to Britain, it won’t count for food production in Magica,” Harry said while he softened his words a little with a brief grin. “I don’t care how good the whiskey is.”

Theodorus laughed and then gave a resigned nod. “We have more land than that. Is there any crop you need growers for?”

Harry frowned while he considered that. They already had one farmer growing wheat. “Perhaps some storage crops like potatoes, carrots and onions. Maybe some cabbages. That sort of thing.”

“Our house-elves will certainly be able to grow those on the land currently not in use. Consider it done,” Theodorus said, and Harry appreciated how easy the man was to work with. Then he got to work flying slowly around the property to add the runes. Nott Manor had extensive grounds, but nothing quite as big as the Malfoy Manor or Black Manor had. There was mostly farmland with many mature hedgerows, a bit of woodland around the edges, a walled kitchen garden and a small lake. Around the manor house there were beautifully landscaped gardens with many manicured hedges and roses, and little benches to sit on alongside the gravel footpaths.

Harry got the whole property moved in under two hours to its new location to the north-west of Malfoy Manor, along the northern shore of Magica.

“Thank you,” Theodorus said sincerely. “I truly appreciate having a home again where I can perform the rituals my family has made their own over the generations.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said with a nod before joining Voldemort for lunch at his mansion again. Dobby treated them to an excellent meal of pasta in a creamy chicken and mushroom sauce with a slice of banoffee pie to finish it all off.

“Why on earth would the Malfoys want to get rid of an elf who can cook this well,” Harry asked as he sat back with a satisfied sigh.

Voldemort wiped a napkin across his mouth. “No idea. Lucius told me the elf was a little skittish, but that’s not the impression I got from him at all. He seems very eager to work.”

“We’ll have to divide our meals between my castle and your mansion from now on,” Harry said while his eyes crinkled in amusement. They simply couldn’t let Dobby’s culinary talents go to waste, no matter how good of a cook Violet was.

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Voldemort said with an agreeable nod.

“I’m starting on basilisk island this afternoon,” Harry said as he sipped a cup of tea. “Any requests?”

“I would like to add the wards myself,” Voldemort said, suddenly looking utterly serious.

“Sure,” Harry agreed easily enough. “I was planning on putting it to the south-east of Magica, about ten miles off the coast. I’ll get the island made, add soil and trees and such. I was thinking about two miles across in size?”

“That would work. The basilisk only has an underground room right now. Anything bigger than that would please her immensely, I’m sure. Let me know when you’re done and I’ll add the wards.”

And that is what Harry did with his afternoon. He hovered on his broom ten miles off the coast of Magica and started transfiguring the seawater into bedrock. Since the island didn’t have to be too big he got the basic shape of it done in a few hours, but since darkness fell early that time of year Harry was forced to call it a day before he was able to do any decorating to the piece of rock.

The next morning, Harry joined Voldemort to move two homes of Voldemort’s followers. Oliver Gibson and Corban Yaxley both had modest mansions but without more than ten acres of land or so. Harry placed both their properties across the bridge of Spellbridge, on opposite sides of Gooseberry Lane, and it took him no more than a few hours to get it all done. Both Gibson and Yaxley were polite enough, but also rather wary of Harry and didn’t seem to know what to make of him just yet. Both worked at the British ministry and would continue to work there, but they both wanted to be able to practice dark magic at home without the risk of arrest.

Harry and Voldemort had lunch at Harry’s castle while Violet made them beef bourguignon, which was absolutely fantastic. The rice pudding they had for afters was also lovely.

“I’m making good progress in learning Santireen,” Voldemort said with an expectant smile, and then added in broken Santireen, “The language is coming for me.”

Harry snickered while V cackled in clear mockery, and Harry toasted Voldemort with his glass of wine. “It’s coming along fine, yeah.”

“So when can we start my training in necromancy?” Voldemort asked, raising his eyebrows and looking like a hopeful, eager schoolboy on his first day of school.

“First you get homework.” Harry tossed his glass of wine back in one big gulp and then gestured at Voldemort to follow him to the library. “I’ve taken a few necromancy apprentices over the years,” Harry explained as they entered the enormous library. “So I’ve made an effort to write down a comprehensive study program. You get book one and you’re expected to study it.” Harry pulled a book from a nearby shelf and handed it to Voldemort while giving him a narrow-eyed look. “There will be tests.”

“I can’t wait,” Voldemort said, holding the book carefully against his chest, and the thing was, he genuinely sounded like receiving tests was the most fun he could possibly have. Harry wondered how close Voldemort had actually come to being sorted into Ravenclaw. No wonder Auntie Eustice adored the man.

“Have fun,” Harry said while he walked Voldemort to the front door. “I’m going to finish your murder serpent’s future home today, so you can start on the wards tomorrow.”

First Harry transfigured the rocky surface of the new island into sterile top soil and then he apparated to Galloway Forest Park again and stole a few remote swatches of forest with lots of mature trees which he planted around the hill he’d created on the centre of the island. Inside the hill was a whole network of underground tunnels and caves that the basilisk could use as a comfortable home. On the other side of the mature trees Harry dumped manure and top soil which he bought by the ton from a company in Wales, and then he flew across the island, distributing grass, flower, shrub and tree seeds so nature could decide what would grow best there. By the time the sun was setting, Harry sat on his broom and surveyed the island before flying around the coastline and inscribing runes for mild weather and quick growth into the rocks, so by the time the basilisk moved in the plants would be established somewhat.

After an early night, Harry again made his way to Spellbridge first thing in the morning, this time to hire more construction workers. They had new residents arriving that afternoon and no empty houses left.

Sue, Arnie and Shaun were eager to instruct any new workers as they built new homes in record time, and Harry approached Sebastian Parkinson to see if he was willing to build houses. Thankfully, he was, and he knew at least four others of the Knockturn wolves who’d be happy to gain steady employment and learn a trade. And thus beside Sebastian, Edmund, Vickie, Melina and Sadiyah joined the construction crew and got to work at once creating new streets and homes.

Harry briefly stopped across the bridge where he created a new paved street that ran across from Gooseberry Lane and named it Blueberry Drive. His next stop was Voldemort, who apparated him to the first property to move that day. It was a similar job as the previous day. Henry Travers and Gerald Avery had nice mansions with not too much land which Harry moved to Blueberry Drive without any issues.

Lunch was had at Voldemort’s mansion where Dobby had a lovely meal of cassoulet waiting for them, a French stew of white beans and smoked sausages which was warm and filling. Harry loved the blackberry and apple crumble they had for dessert.

“I really have to go,” Harry said with an apologetic smile the moment he finished his crumble. “We’ve got residents coming in and we need as many houses as we can build.”

“Tonight is the opening of the pub,” Voldemort pointed out and which Harry had almost forgotten about. Voldemort then pushed his chair back. “I’ll come and help you with the housing so you all will be finished in time for the festivities tonight.”

“Really?” Harry said, pleasantly surprised.

Voldemort gave an elegant shrug while he drank the last of his wine. “It’s not like I have anything better to do, aside from studying for your undoubtedly unrelenting tests.”

Harry cackled as he and Voldemort left the mansion. The construction crew had been hard at work that morning, creating three new streets they had named Willow Lane, Elm Street and Pine Place. They had fifteen new houses built already and were working hard on more when Harry and Voldemort joined them. A steady trickle of new residents occupied the new homes just about as fast at they got them built.

While Voldemort was talented and powerful, he hadn’t ever created homes from scratch before and he kept wanting to put far too many useless accessories in place.

“Don’t bother,” Harry said with a dismissive wave when Voldemort added green window shutters. They looked lovely, it had to be said, but they were a waste of time. “Let the new residents take care of such things. We just need bare homes, stone floors and walls. The new occupants can dress it up however they like it.”

“Very well,” Voldemort said with a sigh that sounded surprisingly disappointed. “We’ll just be boring.”

An hour later a young man in his twenties came looking for Harry. “Hi, I’m Michael Dowling, Remus said to ask for you.”

“What can I help you with?” Harry said, lowering his wand, while Voldemort observed them curiously.

“I’m a half-blood, and I’ve got family in muggle Amsterdam. Spent some summers there,” Michael rattled on, clearly warming up to the subject. “The Dutch have got the most amazing bicycles, and the police hold these auctions to sell off any abandoned bicycles they find, and I was thinking I could buy those for cheap and fix them up and start a little bicycle shop here, since Remus said there were plenty of muggleborns living here and I bet they’d enjoy riding a bicycle around the island. They’re cheaper than brooms, anyway.”

“You want to start a bicycle shop,” Harry said by way of summing up Michael’s wishes.

Michael nodded vigorously. “Yeah, but use magic to improve them, but that’s not allowed in Britain. I checked.”

“All magic is allowed here,” Harry said with a grin while he gave Michael a reassuring nod. “Go make your bicycle shop. Remus will sign you up for a loan if you need one.”

“Mate, that is brilliant!” Michael gave Harry a couple of very firm pats on his shoulder, causing V to clap his beak in warning. “Thanks so, so much.” And with that, Michael was off in a trot on his way back to Town Hall.

“Muggle bicycles,” Voldemort said with a strange glint in his eyes. It took Harry a moment to realize Voldemort was probably feeling a bit mischievous. “I can’t wait to see what my Death Eaters will have to say about that.”

Harry snickered and went back to finishing the roof on the house he’d been constructing.

“I suggest we fill this street with vampire homes,” Harry said when the construction crew got ready to add homes to Elm Street. “We’re going to build them partially underground.”

“Do you actually have a plan for the layout of the town?” Sebastian Parkinson asked, arms crossed as he gave Harry a rather critical onceover.

“Er…” Harry licked his lips and ducked his head and finally just sighed. “I’d love to have a plan for the town, but I seriously have not had time yet to sit down and actually draw up a plan.”

“You need someone other than yourself in charge of construction, mate,” Sebastian said without hesitation, and Harry knew he was right. Harry had too much on his plate, was away doing other things far too often to always effectively manage the construction crew.

“Good point. You’re hired. Everyone, Sebastian is now our Construction Officer.” Harry gave a surprised Sebastian his sweetest smile before turning back to everyone else. They spent a good half hour discussing building subterranean homes and once they had an idea what they should look like, Voldemort reminded them that it was already past five, as darkness was falling rapidly, and perhaps everyone should call it a night and go home to eat and get ready for the grand opening.

“I’ll pop by the castle around eight,” Voldemort said and apparated to his own home. Harry flew home, enjoying the wind in his face for a while to help him relax after a hard day’s work.

Harry didn’t enter his castle but instead apparated to Diagon Alley, which he all but ran through all the way to Knockturn Alley, where he hurried inside The Slaughterhouse, glad to find the store still open.

“We thought you’d forgotten about us,” Midge said with a chuckle when Harry almost threw himself against the counter, completely out of breath.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Harry said with a charming smile while still catching his breath.

“Got your cloak,” Marge said, holding up an amazing black fur cloak.

“Wow,” Harry said, accepting the cloak from Marge carefully. The body of the cloak was made up of soft, tight curls that shone, while the wide collar was made of long, wild fur that stood up much like the lion’s mane of his old cloak had done but this felt much softer. “What is this made of?”

Harry expected some kind of exotic animal he’d never heard of it. Instead Marge said, “Sheep.”

“Sheep? Both of these furs are from sheep?” Harry looked at the sisters in disbelief, sure they were joking.

Midge leaned a little closer to Harry over the counter. “Our secret is muggles,” she whispered as though she was sharing a dangerous bit of information. “They’ve created so many different breeds of sheep with so many different types of wool, that you can create anything with it. Just don’t tell most of our clientele.”

Harry laughed in sheer delight at the idea of the sisters hoodwinking all the vampires by promising them exotic furs while in reality they were just really knowledgeable about the different types of sheepskins. Just for that he gladly paid the amount of gold the sisters asked for, but they honestly had done an excellent job on creating a new cloak for him.

Once home again Harry asked Violet for one of her delicious pork pies, which he ate quickly before trudging up the stairs where Igor had filled a hot bath for him.

V insisted on bathing as well in the sink, and Harry took his time soaking in the tub and washing his hair before staring at himself in the mirror. He had been neglecting his shaving charms this past week and there was a short beard growing already.

“Shave, shave!” V insisted while he bobbed his head up and down, and Harry sighed, reached for his wand and got to work until his chin and cheeks were completely smooth again. “Good, good,” V cawed, closing his eyes in happiness.

Harry stood in front of his wardrobe and examined his clothes. He always wore the same types of linen shirt and pants, but perhaps tonight was an occasion to put on his best clothes. This was a black silk shirt, black leather trousers (and yes, Harry did have to think about what the hags had said about the vampires), and a black leather vest. Harry combined it with his usual leather boots, brushed his hair and tied it back and then examined himself in the mirror.

“Not bad,” V chattered from his usual spot on the headboard. “Seen worse.”

Just then a few knocks echoed through the entrance hall and Harry hurried down the stairs while Igor opened the door. Voldemort was wearing a cloak, but underneath it Harry saw tailored, open robes over a black shirt and trousers. Well, at least they’d be matching that night in their complete lack of colour.

“Look what Midge and Marge made,” Harry said happily as he shrugged on his new cloak.

“Very nice. It looks good on you,” Voldemort said with an approving smile. “Shall I apparate us?”

“Sure.” Harry offered his arm to Voldemort and moments later they stood on town square, where The Irish Cock was fully lit up and a steady stream of people was making their way inside. Voldemort slipped inside first, Harry right on his heels, and they wove their way through the already crowded room until Voldemort found an empty table on the right side of the pub. They both sat down, pulling off their cloaks and draping them across the backs of the chairs.

Voldemort offered to get the first round of drinks and while he made his way to the bar, Harry sat back and looked around.

Billy Malone was nowhere to be seen, but he’d apparently convinced his friends Shaun and Sue, of the construction crew, to help him behind the bar. Harry saw Remus and Rachel sitting at a nearby table, smiling at each other in ways that made it very clear they were more than a little interested in the other. Theodorus Nott was there as well, standing at the bar talking to Sebastian Parkinson. Mildred sat at a table, chatting with Arnold Milner, and nearby Erika and Claire were having a spirited conversation with Melissa and Leon Greengrass.

More and more people entered the pub, and Harry waved at those he knew until Voldemort returned and put a pint of brown beer in front of Harry. Blinking, Harry looked from his drink to Voldemort and back, who held a brown beer in his own hand.

“Try it,” Voldemort said, taking a healthy gulp from his own glass.

And since Harry was no coward, he picked up the pint, took a gulp, and fell in love. That is how Harry met Guinness and they would become very, very close that night, and many nights to come. “Fuck, this is good,” Harry said, taking another drink. Voldemort merely winked in reply while sitting back in his own chair.

Just then Regulus and what had to be Barty entered the pub, but Barty looked different than usual. His hair was darker, his nose was pointier, his chin a little more pronounced. Harry still recognized him as Barty, but a stranger wouldn’t know who he was probably.

Voldemort noticed where Harry was looking and leaned closer across the table. “Barty had some transfiguration work done,” Voldemort said as Harry nodded in understanding. “People believe Barty Crouch Jr to be dead, so Barty only had to change a few superficial things. He’s now a second cousin twice removed, I believe.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Harry agreed, drinking more beer. “That way he can travel freely everywhere eventually.” He waved at Regulus and Barty, who nodded back while they stood at the bar.

Just then, from a door near the back close to their tables, Sirius emerged, tugging on his trouser’s fastenings. Right behind him Billy appeared with a satisfied smile. He blew Sirius a kiss and then hurried back to the bar through the crowd.

Sirius spotted Harry and strolled to their table, giving Harry a shit-eating grin. “Still got that old Black charm, as it turns out.”

“Do you now?” Harry said, grinning just as wide as Sirius but for entirely different reasons.

“It seems plenty of people on the island have some charm,” Voldemort said with a knowing smile of his own.

“Yeah, but not enough to have a nice young Irish bloke give you some personal attention,” Sirius said with a confident wink before he turned around and waved at the back. “Kashvi! Hi!” And he was off again.

Harry briefly bit his lip before bursting into laughter, which quickly ended when Voldemort said, “It’s certainly not hard to receive such personal attention when the other party is so eager to provide it.”

Mouth falling open, Harry gaped at Voldemort in disbelief before leaning closer across the table. “You,” Harry said, slowly, deliberately. “You, had your cock sucked by a muggleborn?”

Voldemort gave Harry an undiluted smirk. “Getting your cock sucked by a muggleborn is no different than getting it sucked by a pureblood, as it turns out.”

Harry cracked up and bent down over his pint of Guinness, laughing so hard his eyes teared up. He had to wipe across his eyes a few times to compose himself before he could look at Voldemort again. “When on earth did you run into Billy Malone?”

“After the town meeting. He offered to give me a tour of his new pub, and then he offered me more than that,” Voldemort said with an unconcerned shrug. “It appears you had your own run-in, so you can hardly judge me.”

Harry quickly held up a hand. “Oh, not judging, don’t worry. And he offered me that kind of attention right after he arrived on the island.” Harry shrugged as well. “It had been a while, so I figured why not.”

“There is nothing wrong with enjoying life’s little pleasantries,” Voldemort agreed with eyes crinkled in clear amusement.

“Talking about little pleasantries,” Harry said, emptying his pint and getting up. “I’ll get the next drinks.”

They were four pints, and two bathroom breaks, into the night each when Ernest got out a guitar, while a few others picked up different instruments and before long the pub was filled with rowdy songs that most of the people could sing along with. One particularly popular song that was played over and over again, about a wild rover, had a catchy refrain that was easy to remember and soon enough Harry was bellowing along, “No, nay, never,” with everyone else.

There was also a song about a drunken sailor that Voldemort even knew the words to and mouthed them along, though Harry wasn’t sure if he even realized he was doing it. Almost everyone was there, even people like Avery and Travers, though they talked mostly amongst themselves. The only noticeably absent people were the Malfoys, but Harry wasn’t too surprised by that. They had seemed a bit too stuck-up to go and mingle with the rabble on a Saturday night in the local pub.

After his fifth pint, Harry got up and climbed on his chair. He almost fell off it again at once, if it wasn’t for Voldemort sending forth a burst of magic to keep him upright.

“Hey!” Harry yelled with a bit of a slur, waving his arms around. Several people slurred “Hey!” right back at him, but finally people seemed to realize Harry wanted to say something and they quieted down. “Hey!” Harry looked around the many, many increasingly drunk people around him and gave them all a sappy smile.

“When I first built this country, I did it for my own reasons,” Harry said, using a bit of magic to summon his pint of Guinness and taking a big gulp. “But seeing you all here tonight, together, happy and free, I know that in truth, I made this country for all of you. And seeing you all here makes me realize we’ve become a real society without anyone even looking.” Harry took a chug of beer again. “But what I really wanted to say…the next round is on me!”

That earned Harry a deafening roar of approval from the crowd and he managed to get down from his chair without breaking his neck. Ernest started the song about the wild rover again, and Harry pounded his fist on the table as he bellowed “No, nay, never,” with everyone else, while Sirius had found his way behind the bar where he had his arms around Billy and Sue as they loudly sang along with the whole pub.

Harry wasn’t quite sure anymore how many pints he’d had by the time Voldemort hooked his arm in Harry’s elbow and they both staggered out of the pub, along with lots of other very drunk people. Harry wasn’t even sure what time it was, except that it was cold and dark outside.

“We really shouldn’t be apparating in this condition,” Voldemort said, and even he had a bit of a slur to his voice even if he was very obviously trying to hide it. “We should walk.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed easily enough. “We got roads.” Harry leaned on Voldemort so much that they both swerved to the left until they crashed into the post office. “That’s not right,” Harry said, cracking up and cackling with laughter.

V flew up from Harry’s shoulder and flew circles above their heads. “Dumb drunk, dumb drunk!”

“This way,” Voldemort said, leading them through the empty shopping alley in the opposite direction of the road, but all they found at the end there was meadows.

“Where’s the fucking road?” Harry said, looking around in utter confusion. “The elves built a fucking road. I’ve seen it.”

“Where is the road?” Voldemort asked, equally as confused as he turned around on the spot, pulling Harry along in a little circle dance.

“Dumb drunk, dumb drunk!”

“No, nay, never!” Harry bellowed because he loved that song, it was just so fucking catchy.

“Oh, shut up,” Voldemort said and then cracked up laughing as he looked around again. “The road it gone.”

“Dumb drunk, dumb drunk!”

“Hey!” Harry yelled, leaning far too heavily on Voldemort again, who swerved to the right this time until they hit an empty shop. “No, nay, never!”

“We need the road, Harry. We need the road.” Voldemort pulled Harry along, both of them stumbling across the alley until they hit the other side.

“Elf, elf,” V cawed from where he landed on the roof above their heads. “Call elf!”

“Dobby!” Voldemort yelled, and that was somehow the last thing Harry remembered until the next day, when he woke up in a bed that was not his own while his head was about to explode. Harry blinked bleary eyes as he looked around in confusion, until he saw an equally bleary Voldemort lying beside him, blinking at him with bloodshot eyes.

Chapter Text

Chapter 32

Harry carefully, very, very carefully, took stock of the situation. He was in Voldemort’s bed, his shirt was open, his trousers were half off with one leg bare and his head was pounding. Harry glanced at Voldemort again. “I don’t think we fucked, but my trousers are half off for some reason.”

Voldemort swallowed, his throat making a very dry sound, and then he lifted the covers and examined his own body. “My trousers are opened but still on. I agree that we probably didn’t have sex.”

“Good,” Harry said, letting his head drop back in his pillow. And then he realized how that sounded, so he quickly added, “When I fuck you I want to remember it.” Harry wasn’t a complete idiot. He had eyes and he could see how utterly attractive Voldemort was. Not just in the looks department, but more importantly in the magical department. There was something so deliciously raw and dark about the man and his magic that Harry felt drawn to without even realizing. And now that Harry knew Voldemort at least welcomed the idea of having sex with men the chances of them eventually fucking had just risen exponentially.

Voldemort couldn’t hold back a grin and released a burst of laughter, which quickly transformed into a pained groan.

Harry threw his arm over his own face and joined Voldemort in groaning in absolute misery. Not just his head was pounding, his whole fucking face was aching. “What sort of poison did you serve me last night?”

Voldemort had his eyes squeezed shut, face a picture of misery. “Guinness is a muggle beer, so I’m simply blaming this whole terrible hangover on the muggles.”

Snorting, Harry couldn’t hold back some laughter, which caused even his teeth to ache for some fucking reason. That is when Harry’s stomach made it known it wasn’t happy, either. “Ah, I feel so sick.”

“If you throw up in my bed I will curse you,” Voldemort said and he even managed to sound kind of menacing for a second or two before he groaned in absolute misery again. “Look what you have done to me.”

“What?”

“I used to be a Dark Lord,” Voldemort whispered, licking his dry lips a few times. “A respected, feared Dark Lord. People were literally too scared to even say my name. And now I’m reduced to a hungover fool who spent a whole night in a pub making merry and getting drunk with werewolves and muggleborns. It’s all your fault.”

Harry cracked up again and then quickly rolled onto his side, one arm curled around his stomach. “Stop…stop… Fuck, what do I call you? I keep calling you Voldemort in my head, but that’s just not right.”

Slowly letting his head drop to the side, Voldemort stared at him. “I go by Marvolo these days. You could try that.”

“Ugh. It’s too fucking long,” Harry muttered, face pressed against the pillow.

“How is that too long?” Voldemort demanded, expression briefly lighting up in outrage before crumbling in pain again. “It’s exactly one syllable longer than your name. Har-ry. Mar-vo-lo.”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry conceded. “Marvolo, do you wizards have something to fix this mess? In Santika we had a herbal brew that worked pretty well, but I don’t have any doses ready.”

“Dobby!” Voldemort called, voice cracking and he ended up coughing a few times while the eager house-elf appeared at the side of the bed. “Get us some hangover cures, quickly!”

“Master Gaunts is not be having them in the mansion,” Dobby said while pulling on his own ears in obvious distress.

“There’s a money pouch in my cloak, grab that and go to Diagon Alley to buy some,” Voldemort said…no, Marvolo said. Harry decided he was going to make an effort to think of the man by his newly chosen name because if last night had proven anything, it was that Lord Voldemort as he’d once existed was well and truly gone.

Dobby popped away and Harry and Marvolo both lay very still until a few minutes later the house-elf returned and gave them both a vial with a bright blue potion inside. Marvolo sniffed his briefly before downing it and falling back against the bed with a relieved sigh. Harry drank his own dose, which had a surprisingly minty flavour, and at once his stomach settled and his head stopped pounding.

“Oh yeah,” Harry moaned in absolute delight. “That’s so much better. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Marvolo said, eyes still squeezed shut but his face utterly relaxed now.

Harry licked his lips, his mouth now a lot less dry. “We should make this a thing.”

“A what now?”

“Saturday nights,” Harry explained, glancing at Marvolo again. “We should go to the pub on Saturday nights from now on.”

Marvolo looked at Harry as though he’d utterly lost his mind for a moment but then he released a resigned little sigh. “Fine. We can do that. Mingling with the peasants is probably a good idea, politically speaking.”

“Fuck off,” Harry said with a snicker, pulling his pillow out from under his own head and smacking it against Marvolo’s face. “We’re just going there to get shitfaced. It’s healthy, considering all the stress we’re under.”

Marvolo’s expression was stuck somewhere between outrage and sincere surprise and Harry got the ridiculous impulse to kiss the man, just dive right on top of him, push him down against the mattress and snog him within an inch of his life. But they were both sweaty and smelly and had morning-breath that could knock a dragon out, probably, so this really wasn’t a good time.

Still, the idea of snogging Marvolo had now taken up root in Harry’s brain and knowing himself, Harry was sure that someday soon he was going to act on that impulse. And from what he’d seen so far, Marvolo probably wouldn’t be opposed to such a thing. He certainly hadn’t reacted with revulsion to the idea of having sex with Harry earlier.

“We need an apothecary,” Harry mused, giving Marvolo no chance of retaliation by quickly sitting up. “All those poor bastards out there who got just as drunk as us but who don’t have house-elves to visit Diagon Alley for them.”

“They should have thought of that before they entered the pub last night,” Marvolo grumbled, still staring at Harry in slight disbelief he’d just been smacked in the face with a pillow like that.

There was a strange tapping noise that Harry couldn’t quite place as he slowly pushed himself out of bed and stretched out his arms over his head. “I should head home, have a bath.” Harry frowned as he considered his option. “I might even take the day off, or at least do some quiet stuff around the castle.”

“Merlin knows we have earned some time to ourselves,” Marvolo agreed, making no effort to get up just yet.

Harry looked around in confusion as he pulled his trousers up all the way. Next he buttoned his shirt while Marvolo stared at him with narrowed eyes.

“What do the tattoos mean?” Marvolo asked quietly.

“They’re runes that provide safety when walking the deathlands,” Harry said while he looked all over the large room. Where the fuck was V? “And there’s a few little extras I’ve added over the years, to help focus my powers.”

There was that tapping noise again, and only now did Harry realize it came from one of the windows. There, on the windowsill outside sat V, tapping his beak against the glass in quiet outrage.

“Aw, buddy,” Harry said with a chuckle. “Just fly to the castle, I’ll be there in a minute.” V did not seem reassured by those words and tapped the glass harder.

Marvolo ignored V completely, as he usually did. “Does that mean I will have to get those tattoos as well?” Marvolo’s face was scrunched up in clear distaste.

“Seriously?” Harry said, more than a little surprised by Marvolo’s negative response. “You’ll rip your own fucking soul apart like it’s nothing, but the idea of permanently inking designs into your skin is freaking you out?” Harry snorted with laughter, shook his head and walked to the bedroom door. Marvolo was giving him an unreadable look while Harry glanced at him over his shoulder. “I had a great time. I’ll see you tomorrow to move some more homes. Bye, Marvolo.” And with that, Harry slipped through the bedroom door.

Harry decided to walk back to his castle across the brand-new paved road, to help wake him up a bit more and to clear his head. V landed on his shoulder almost at once and chattered in annoyance for most of the way home. By the time Harry stepped through his own door he was feeling back to his usual self again. He was also surprised to see it was after noon already.

“Igor, run me a bath! Violet, some lunch, please!” Harry shrugged off his brand-new cloak, glad to see it still in pristine condition, and hung it up on the coatrack beside the door.

“Eurgh!”

“Eep!”

Once Harry was fed and washed and dressed in his normal attire again, he settled in the library where a generous pile of mail awaited him. Harry had been neglecting it, and as expected, it had only grown over the past couple of weeks. Most of it was nonsense from ‘fans’, people who didn’t know him but insisted on putting him on a pedestal anyway. Harry had no patience for that kind of nonsense and chucked those letter straight onto the pile meant to light fires with.

It was stupid, tedious work, to go through every piece of mail, make sure it wasn’t cursed, only for it to be a letter from a complete stranger singing his praises over nothing.

There was one letter, though, that brought a genuine smile to Harry’s face. His three young assistants had sent him a letter, talking about their lives at Hogwarts. Apparently the Yule Ball was a big thing amongst the students, and Hermione had a date but wouldn’t say who it was, while Ron and Neville had managed to convince a pair of sisters to go with them to the dance. Ron had apparently received dress-robes from his mother that might have actually belonged to his many times great-grandfather born in the 1700s, if Harry was the believe the description Hermione gave of it.

Still, Harry appreciated his young friends keeping in touch with him, so he decided to give them a new project to research. He wrote them a letter back and asked them to design a judicial system, including a branch of law enforcement, from scratch for a hypothetical new country. Harry was genuinely curious what Hermione would come up with in all her idealistic glory.

Once he sent Poppy off with the letter for his assistants, Harry frowned and realized he probably needed such dress-robes for himself to wear to the ball. He should probably visit Melissa Greengrass, their resident tailor, soon. Which reminded Harry that he had meant to go through his own wardrobes and sort through old clothing to donate to Melissa’s clothing bank.

So, after Harry finished wading through his mostly useless mail, he headed upstairs and opened each and every wardrobe and closet he had in search of old clothing and other linens. It turned out Harry had a ridiculous amount of sheets and blankets and towels that were still in usable shape, which he set aside to donate.

Next came his clothing. For some reason, Harry had about a hundred thousand socks with a single hole in them. It was a habit for Harry to put aside any sock that developed a hole with the genuine intention of fixing it later, only to forget about it entirely.

“Lavender!” Harry yelled, sitting on the floor beside his small mountain of socks. “Fix the holes in these, make decent pairs and then put them aside to be donated.”

“Eep!”

Next came shoes, which Harry didn’t have that many spare pairs of, since he usually wore his boots down until they practically fell apart and even magic couldn’t hold them together anymore. As Harry crawled onto his knees inside his biggest built-in closet in one of his storage rooms, he found an old trunk which he didn’t even remember storing there.

Harry pulled the trunk out of the closet, opened the lid, and gasped at what he saw.

Small clothes. Tiny shoes. Little tunics and trousers and dresses and ribbons in all colours that had once tied his daughters’ hair in ponytails.

Swallowing, Harry sat back on his butt and ran a hand over his face. He was sure he’d passed on all his children’s clothing to his grandkids as some point. When had he even put this trunk in the closet? Had Mal done this? She could be oddly sentimental at times, even though she usually was refreshingly pragmatic in her day to day life.

Well, had been.

A sob rose from Harry’s chest, but he bit down in it, refused to let it surface, because he was not dealing with this right now.

Harry had lost his entire family, his entire fucking world, and he was not fucking dealing with it right at that moment.

Harry had built an entire new country to fill the vast chasm of grief losing everyone he’d ever loved had left inside of him and apparently even that wasn’t enough because his chest still burned with heartache.

V sat on the edge of the trunk and picked up a few ribbons while he hung his head. V had always cared for Harry’s kids just as much as Harry had, even if he liked to pretend they were annoying little miscreants that always got underfoot.

“Call, call,” V cawed softly, letting the ribbons drop around his feet. “Call kids.”

“No,” Harry said, his voice thick and his eyes closed. “No, V, not now.”

A shadow fell over Harry and when he looked up he saw Keket standing on the ceiling. She jumped to the floor and settled behind him, leaning her massive head around him to sniff at the clothes in the trunk. Keket released a soft, keening noise. She, too, had been there to see Harry’s children grow up.

“Let’s go outside for a while,” Harry said, gently closing the lid. V flew up as he picked up the ribbons to settle on top of the closed lid again.

“Tie, tie,” V cawed, waving the four ribbons at Harry while he stuck out a foot. “Tie foot.”

“You’ll look like a clown,” Harry warned him with a chuckle, but he still tied the four ribbons around V’s skinny leg, so he had a bunch of colourful tails hanging down from his ankle. Then Harry shoved the trunk back into the wardrobe, closed the door and decided Melissa could make do with his linens and mountain of socks for her clothing bank.

Harry pulled on his cloak, got his broom and he flew down the new paved road the elves had built around the island while V flew ahead and Keket loped after him. They saw the thestrals munching on some fresh cow carcasses on the edge of his property, so Masaru had been able to keep them fed well enough. Right as they passed by Gaunt Mansion they saw the Scottish Highland coos grazing, spread out across the meadow opposite Marvolo’s home. The elves had done a good job and the road looked great, and beside it small trees were already emerging from the soil. And Harry took his time flying, since he wasn’t in a hurry.

This was his home now. He had nowhere else to go.

As Harry stopped for a break in the young forest he’d planted on the westernmost point of the island, he decided that he was lucky.

No, really. Harry was incredibly lucky. He was an old man. He should be wrinkled and grey by now, on his deathbed even. And here he was, young and vital and with many years still ahead of him.

How many people were that lucky, that they got to live not one, but two different lives like that? Raise a family in the first life, see his kids grow up, his grandkids find their ways in life. And now here in this new world he was able to provide a home for those who needed it the most, and maybe he would even be able to save the broken soul of a person who needed saving more than anyone else.

Harry hadn’t told him yet, but he already knew that Marvolo couldn’t walk the deathlands with the way his soul was shattered. The demons would sense such weakness at once and devour him alive. And without walking the deathlands, Marvolo would never become a genuine necromancer, just the pale illusion of one that he already was. Harry decided it was probably for the best if Marvolo studied the theory first, so he’d understand what was at stake, and then he could decide what he wanted to do about his broken soul.

When Harry got back on his broom after having walked down the coast a little amongst the young trees that now were a foot taller than him, he saw a few flying animals in the distance. At first Harry thought they were thestrals, but as he flew closer he realized these creatures had the heads of very large birds with sharp beaks.

These were hippogriffs, Harry was sure. His father had mentioned them so often during his stories about the marauders roaming through the Forbidden Forest, that Harry knew what they were the moment he saw them. There were five of them, all in different colours, flying high above the large lake Harry had created beside the forest when he’d just made the island.

Well, Harry hoped they liked carrion, too. Masaru now had two places to drop off carcasses, it seemed.

As Harry flew along the southern shore of the island he realized he still needed to adjust the coastal areas. The ocean around them was filled with life meant for the open waters, not for coastal areas. That meant Harry had to import coastal seaweeds and all sorts of critters, from fish to worms, to start the correct coastal ecosystem, and which would eventually provide food for them as well in the form of crabs and mussels, scallops and fish, and much more. Harry made a mental note to visit Rachel that week.

By the time Harry arrived back at his castle he felt a little calmer, the pain in his chest having receded for the most part. He had a quiet dinner and then retired to the library for a few hours where he read some of the new books he’d purchased before heading to bed.

The next morning the strange melancholic mood that had taken over Harry the previous day was gone, and Harry was ready to get some more work done instead of wallowing in the past. V insisted on keeping the ribbons around his leg, though, which was fine by Harry, even if seeing the four ribbons did bring up memories of his children every single time he caught sight of them.

The first thing Harry did was stop at Melissa Greengrass’ home. “I need dress robes,” Harry said the moment she opened her door. “For the Yule ball.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Melissa said and waved him inside.

“I also brought socks and linens, for your clothing bank.” Harry dropped a crate in the kitchen. “I didn’t have any other usable clothes.”

“Thanks, Harry. Every little bit helps,” Melissa assured him with a warm smile as she grabbed a tape measure from a nearby table. “Now stand still for a moment.”

Harry posed patiently as Melissa got his measurements and gave him some options for different types of dress robes.

“I basically want the kind that look the least like robes,” Harry finally said, since he really wasn’t a fan of the long, closed robes people like Dumbledore seemed to favour. “I don’t care what anyone says.”

Melissa grinned in response. “Well, it’s not as though they’d kick you out for not adhering to the dress code.”

“Exactly,” Harry agreed with a haughty sniff. Melissa showed him a few types of fabric, and Harry chose one of the black ones that seemed the nicest. Then he said his goodbyes and headed for Gaunt Mansion, since they still had a home to move that morning.

“I just ordered dress robes,” Harry said by way of greeting when Marvolo opened the door. And it was strange to think of him as Marvolo, Harry mused, but it was better than Voldemort, which didn’t seem to fit him at all anymore now that Harry had seen the man well and truly drunk and completely hungover.

“Ah,” Marvolo replied with a nod. “It’s good that you mention it, since I could do with a new pair as well. The last time I wore dress robes was in the seventies.”

“Melissa Greengrass is happy enough to help you with that,” Harry said as they walked down the garden path. Voldemort grabbed Harry’s shoulder and apparated them to Mulciber Mansion.

Jerome Mulciber Senior was a grumpy man with harsh features. His son, Jerome Jr, was serving a life sentence in Azkaban and was on the list to be freed, if they ever figured out a way to do so without alerting anyone. Mulciber Mansion was an average size, but it did have around 25 acres of land and 20 of those were used to grow rye, barley and dried beans. Mulciber didn’t care if he sold his crops in Britain or Magica, since it was a side income as he worked at the Ministry as an archivist. Harry moved his property to Blueberry Lane without any issues.

“Have you considered our Azkaban dilemma?” Marvolo asked him as they enjoyed the mild curry Violet served them for lunch.

“The problem is that if we use Muggles to Polyjuice into the wizards in question, the most basic tests will reveal the bodies never belonged to a witch or wizard in the first place,” Harry said by way of summing up the issues they needed to solve.

Marvolo nodded slowly a few times. “Exactly.”

Harry sat back in his chair, narrowing his eyes as his mind went around and around to figure out a solution. “What if the imaginary plague we thought about unleashing on Azkaban eats away the prisoner’s magic.”

Sitting up a little, Marvolo widened his eyes. “That would be a brilliant way to fool everyone.”

“Right.” Harry grinned for a moment, proud of his own cleverness. “That means we have to invent a new illness, and we have to start with just a few prisoners. We can’t break them out all at once.”

“We could use a potion,” Marvolo mused, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his folded hands. “I could create a new potion, that cannot easily be detected, that suppresses the magic while making the prisoners visibly ill.”

“Right,” Harry said, leaning forward, genuinely happy they seemed to have hit upon a strategy they could work out into a realistic plan. “We have to find a way to dose the prisoners without being detected, let them be ill for a while so some healer can at least examine them and conclude their magic is disappearing, and then when they find a dead body without magic in the cell eventually they won’t assume it’s a Polyjuiced muggle.”

“It’s a perfect plan,” Marvolo said with no small amount of satisfaction. “I’ll get started on a potion.”

“And I’ll find some muggles deserving of death who no one will miss,” Harry said easily. He wasn’t going to hurt innocent people, that wasn’t his style at all, but he knew all too well that there were always monsters living amongst humanity, and Harry had no problems hunting those down and using them for his own betterment. “Let’s postpone the actual breaking into Azkaban until after the Yule Ball,” Harry said with a tilt of his head. “We’re already stealing a basilisk in a week. Let’s make sure that goes down without any problems first.”

“Agreed.” Marvolo sat back in his chair and gave Harry a look that was simultaneously very fond and very sly, and it did things to Harry’s chest, and to Harry’s groin. By the Sun Goddess, Harry wanted to ravage that man and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could contain himself anymore.

That afternoon Harry stopped by Rachel’s home where they talked about the ecological progress of Magica.

“I’ve been stocking the lakes and river with lots of fish and crustaceans,” Rachel said with her usual amount of enthusiasm. “And I’ve added a few more important critters to the land. Lots of moles, since they are great at providing drainage for the fields. And lots of worms, who do the same thing.”

“Excellent work,” Harry said with a grateful smile. “I was thinking we can get started on the coastal waters.”

“How do you want to do that?” Rachel asked with a quirk of her eyebrows.

“We go around the British coast and without being spotted we transport patches of beach and coastal areas to Magica.”

“We’re going to steal bits of beach,” Rachel said in a sort of deadpan voice.

“When you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous.” Harry got up from his seat and waved at Rachel to follow him. “Come on, let me show you how it’s done.”

And they spent the whole afternoon stealing, as Rachel insisted, all sorts of natural features, from large pieces of rocks that had mussels and oysters growing on them, to swatches of sand with lots of worms and clams and crabs living in it, and they all transported it through portals to add to their own coasts. They also made sure they got lots of different kinds of seaweed and several species of fish.

“I’ll keep an eye on it,” Rachel said once the sun started setting and they had to call it quits. “And add more things as needed.”

The next day Harry sent a note to Sebastian Parkinson to come over, to discuss the planning of Spellbridge and of the rest of Magica. Harry had some ideas, but he could always use help.

Sebastian was an intelligent man, as Harry had guessed early on, and he took his job seriously as they stood in the library, examining the maps Harry had roughly drawn of Spellbridge and of Magica as a whole.

“You’ve only been adding residential streets, aside from town square,” Sebastian pointed out, quill at the ready to add to the map. “But towns need more than that. They need schools and offices and recreational spaces.”

“Sure,” Harry agreed easily.

Sebastian started drawing on the map of Spellbridge, until they had a design they were both happy with. It included lots of new residential streets, but also more commercial areas, a large school, office space for businesses and a few parks and play areas for children.

“Where do you want the seat of your government?” Sebastian asked at one point.

Harry pointed at Town Hall.

Rolling his eyes, Sebastian released a tired sigh. “That’s Spellbridge’s government. I meant Magica’s government. Eventually the country is going to have so many people living in it that you’ll need to build a functional government with different departments.”

“Right,” Harry said, not at all embarrassed he’d completely forgotten about that, or so he told himself. “We can build it north of town square, put a large park between the future Gringotts office and put the national government on the other side of that.”

“That’ll work,” Sebastian said and got drawing again.

“I have ideas for more towns,” Harry said once they moved on to the map of Magica. “We need a port, because at some point people will want to start fishing and stuff.” Harry pointed to the coast south of Spellbridge. “Here’s a bit of a bay. We can start construction there soon.”

“What do you want to call it?”

Harry frowned while he thought of a name. “Hexport.”

Sebastian snorted in amusement but wrote it down without complaint.

“And here,” Harry said, pointing at the coast north of the mountain, where there was only grassland since he hadn’t planted any trees there. “Is going to be an agricultural town. I plan on getting my house-elves to start growing commodity crops there. Wheat, corn, sugar beets, rapeseed, sunflowers, dry peas, that sort of thing.”

“All necessary,” Sebastian agreed with a thoughtful nod.

“Put a town there and we’ll call it… Kneazledale.” Harry grinned in amusement at Sebastian’s look of disbelief.

“Whatever you say, Guv,” Sebastian said, shaking his head, but dutifully penning it in.

“And here,” Harry pointed towards the large lake beside the forest on the westernmost point of Magica, “I’ve spotted hippogriffs. We can build a town here on the lake called Hippogriff Hollow. Eventually I want to invite merpeople and centaurs to live in that area. Other magical beings could move there, if they wanted.”

“And a school?” Sebastian asked once all the new plans had been put on paper.

“I thought we just added one to Spellbridge?” Harry asked with a confused look.

“A primary school for the little ones. But at some point they’re going to have to learn magic, or did you want our youth to attend Hogwarts in Britain?” Sebastian pointed out patiently.

“No,” Harry said at once. “We can’t expect our kids to grow up in a society where all magic is allowed and encouraged, and then send them to a school where nothing is allowed. We’re building our own school. I’ve done that before in Sildar.” Harry didn’t mention that he had modelled Sildar’s School for Magic on Hogwarts. “We can put it… here.” Harry tapped a spot in the southwest, right on the coast, against the edge of what one day would hopefully become centaur forest.

“There.” Sebastian gave Harry a satisfied look. “Now we’ve got something to work with, and I can keep our construction crew busy in a more efficient way instead of just letting them add streets randomly as they please.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with a sincere smile. He was more than happy he’d put Sebastian in charge because only now with a qualified person at the helm did he see what an unorganized mess his construction crew had been before.

“Right now I’ve got them working on a whole street full of vampire homes,” Sebastian said as he copied both maps with a wave of his wand, folding up one pair of maps and tucking them in his pockets. “Let me know if you need more of those in the future.”

After Sebastian left, Harry received a letter from Gringotts to tell him that Grimmauld Place had been sold. Apparently a squib investor had bought it for the asking price. He planned on stripping all magic from the building, gutting it and then rebuilding it into a luxurious muggle townhouse. Thanks to the location, it would earn him back a very nice profit on his investment this way. Harry briefly apparated to Diagon Alley to sign the paperwork and to collect his very generous pile of gold he’d just earned, and once back in his castle he stored it in a separate spot, to be used for the development of Magica in the future. For now he’d be using it to pay all the people’s salaries with it.

Sirius invited him to dinner that evening and Harry happily went to spend some time with his friends. He wasn’t the only guests, though, since Barty was there as well, sitting next to Regulus at the dining table.

Sirius laughed for a long few minutes when Harry told him the future of Grimmauld Place. “Our mother is rolling in her grave!”

Regulus looked equally as amused, though he kept it together. “I do find it deliciously ironic that Mother’s pride and joy, the family townhouse, will soon be bought by muggles.”

Harry toasted them with his glass of wine in response.

“We’ve all looked over the constitution,” Remus pointed out some time later. “And it looks good.”

“I’ll officially implement it then,” Harry said with a grateful smile. “Perhaps when we build Magica’s ministry. We can put it up on a wall there or something.”

“Inscribe it in the atrium,” Barty suggested with a small smile.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Harry agreed. “But that will have to wait, because first there’s the Yule Ball in a few days, when Marvolo and I are going to rescue a basilisk.”

Dead silence greeted Harry while all four men stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Harry blinked and gestured helplessly. “Why do you think I’ve built that extra island off the coast? That’s going to house the basilisk.”

Remus cleared his throat and briefly pursed his lips. “Rachel seems to believe that island is a future tiger sanctuary. She was complaining it was a little small for that.”

“What?” Harry asked in utter astonishment. “No. Tiger island is still a long ways away. I made a deal with Marvolo I would help him rescue the basilisk from Hogwarts in exchange for the Elixir of Life.”

That caused some murmuring around the table and Regulus at least looked a little contrite about his earlier response. Of course, Harry had exchanged the basilisk rescue for elixir for Keket, but they didn’t need to know that.

“Wait,” Remus said, blinking slowly a few times. “There is a basilisk at Hogwarts? Right now?”

“Yep,” Harry said with a shrug. “Apparently it’s sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets.”

“That needs to go,” Barty said, looking around the table a few times with a sense of urgency. “Right now.”

“It will go to Basilisk Island after the Yule Ball,” Harry pointed out, again, now feeling a little exasperated. “In less than a week.”

“I’m assuming the island is going to be warded, though?” Regulus asked delicately, looking as though he worried about upsetting Harry.

“Of course,” Harry was quick to reassure him. “Marvolo is adding the wards as we speak and I’m going to examine them thoroughly before adding the basilisk.”

“Well, we’ve already got a dragon,” Sirius said, grinning while he sipped his glass of whiskey. “What’s one more deadly creature.”

“I suppose. As long as it’s removed from Hogwarts,” Remus finally conceded with a small smile. “Rachel is going to be disappointed there aren’t going to be tigers moving in anytime soon.”

Chuckling, Harry sat back in his chair and sipped his own glass of whiskey. “I’ll get to creating tiger island as soon as I can, tell her that. But first we’ve got project Azkaban to tackle.”

And there were those wide-eyed stares again. Harry sighed, wondering what it was that upset his friends now.

“Project Azkaban?” Sirius asked, his face paling visibly.

“Yes,” Harry said with an impatient wave of his hand. “Marvolo wants to break his followers out of Azkaban and bring them here. And I want to remove all the poor bastards who were sentenced to prison for using dark magic and stuff.”

Again only silence greeted him and Harry looked around the table in confusion. Regulus was staring at the empty plate in front of him, while Barty was giving Harry an unreadable look.

“Oh, Marvolo wants to break his followers out of Azkaban,” Sirius said in a dark voice with an tone that got increasingly more dangerous. “And you’re just going along with it?”

“Er…” Harry opened and closed his mouth, unsure what to say but utterly unprepared for his godfather’s open hostility.

“Harry, those people are there for a reason,” Barty whispered, hands folded tightly on the table in front of him.

“You were sentenced to Azkaban yourself,” Harry felt compelled to point out, not understanding what the fuck was going on.

“Barty was an idiot!” Sirius all but yelled, pushing his chair back with too much force. He got up, glass of whiskey firmly in hand. “Young and foolish and hanging out with much older people he had no business hanging out with, who dragged him along whether he liked it or not.”

“Thanks,” Barty said, and he sounded as though he meant that sincerely, much to Harry’s ever growing confusion.

“But the Death Eaters that are still in Azkaban are there for a reason, Harry.” Sirius sloshed whiskey over his hand as he took a few determined steps towards Harry. “Did you even ask Marvolo what those lackeys of his have done?”

“I didn’t, no,” Harry said, feeling a little bit foolish that he hadn’t done so but had just blindly agreed to help them. “I’ll ask him first thing tomorrow.”

“Don’t bother,” Sirius said, placing one hand on the table beside Harry so he could lean over him. “Because you’ve got to understand one thing, Harry. If Bellatrix or Rodolphus or Rabastan or any of those cunts set one foot on this island, I am out of here.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 33

“Whoa,” Harry said, raising both hands to calm Sirius down. His godfather’s eyes were practically blazing and Harry had no doubt Sirius meant what he’d just said. “I honestly have no idea who those people are who you just mentioned.” Harry quickly brushed his thumb across his amulet and summoned his parents, who knew Sirius better than he did and could perhaps calm him down.

Sirius took a few steps back from Harry and gave James an accusatory look. “Prongs, your kid wants to free Bellatrix from Azkaban.”

James blinked as he looked from Harry to Sirius and back. “What?”

Lily floated over to Harry, her face full of worry. “Harry, why would you want to free Bellatrix?”

Harry briefly clenched his jaws before releasing a long, tired sigh. “Let me make this clear one more time. I have no fucking clue who that is. Marvolo wanted to free some of his followers from Azkaban. That’s all I know.”

Lily turned to James and mouthed ‘Marvolo?’. James shrugged in response and then gave his son a look that was probably meant to project patience and understanding but instead looked just a bit worried. “Harry, we know you’re still new to this world, and that you’ve made friends with Voldemort, but you are not a naïve man. Voldemort’s followers are not good people.”

Harry stared at his father with wide eyes and then snorted with laughter. “I just spent a whole week moving Voldemort’s people to this island and none of you said a word in protest. You even spent the evening with some of them in the pub just the other night.”

“Bellatrix and the brothers Lestrange are of a whole different calibre than Lucius or Theodorus or even Corban Yaxley,” Regulus said in a quiet voice, his stare intense. “Not all of the Death Eaters serving time in Azkaban are bad people.” Regulus quickly held up his hand when Sirius looked about to interrupt him. “People like Dolohov, Rookwood and Mulciber have done no worse than what Lucius got up to during the war, and you accept him as your neighbour just fine, Sirius.”

Sirius seemed to deflate a little and sipped his whiskey without comment.

Barty sat up a little and gave Regulus a brief smile before taking over the story. “Let’s put it this way, Harry. If Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers moved here you would seriously risk the lives of every single muggleborn and werewolf on this island. I can practically guarantee they will never agree with the laws of this country. And since they always had the Dark Lord’s favour, they would believe they could get away with breaking the rules and torturing and murdering as they please.”

Regulus nodded in agreement. “To be fair, there’s always been something wrong with Bellatrix. Even as children, long before she ever met the Dark Lord, she loved to inflict pain on others. Rodolphus was exactly the same since he was a child, and Rabastan quickly developed a taste for torture as well, though it’s hard to say if that would have happened if he hadn’t spent all his time with his brother and sister-in-law.”

Harry sat back in his chair and reached for his glass of whiskey. He took a long sip while looking between everyone in the room. “I will discuss this with Marvolo and I will make it clear to him I won’t tolerate people like that on the island if they cannot control their urges and go along with the laws of the land.” Harry gave Sirius a steady look and slowly raised his eyebrows. “Is that acceptable?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sirius said, and drained his glass of whiskey in one go. “I suppose I can put up with Dolohov and Rookwood, since they are no worse than Lucius. But I spent years and years listening to Bellatrix cackle and scream while the three of them reminisced about their glory days and I can’t have her here on the island, Harry, I just can’t.”

“I understand,” Harry said with a slow nod. These people obviously had contributed to Sirius’ traumas and Harry didn’t want to force them on his godfather. Marvolo would just have to find a different solution for those three.

“Hey,” Sirius said with a mischievous gleam in his narrowed eyes as he stepped closer to James. “Did you know your kid is rescuing a basilisk from Hogwarts?”

“Harry!” Lily said, eyes widening dramatically.

Harry sighed and shot a triumphantly grinning Sirius an annoyed look. He then spent ten minutes placating his worried parents that yes, Mum and Dad, it was perfectly safe to steal a basilisk from Hogwarts and he wasn’t being a reckless fool.

There followed no more ambushes the rest of the evening, and when Harry went home he was sure his friendships with the Blacks were still intact.

The next morning, Harry apparated to Britain first thing and went in search of bulk seeds for commodity crops. He chose wheat, barley, rye, oats, sweetcorn, dry beans and peas, sunflowers, rapeseed, sugar beets, fodder beets and soybeans. All of those crops would help feed both the human and the animal population of Magica. Once he got back home Harry took stock of his house-elf inferi.

Aside from the initial three from Sirius’ property, Harry had so far only turned three of the Malfoy elves into inferi. He still had four Malfoy elves left in storage, plus five Nott elves and another five elves from all the other followers who had house-elves buried on their smaller properties. That meant that there were thirteen house-elf inferi just waiting to be made, which is what Harry did next. Thanks to his ritual room it didn’t take him more than an hour and a half until he had his small army ready to go.

Harry stuck to naming them after colours and came up with names such as Mauve, Magenta, Ash, Cinder, Granite, Opal, Charcoal, Navy, Cobalt, Teal, Sage, Olive and Indigo. To be fair, at this point Harry had to write all the names down or else he’d forget them with as many inferi as there were running about. There were nineteen in total, and Harry dutifully wrote all the names down on a sheet of paper he carefully tucked in his desk in the library, after he charmed little nametags on the pillowcases the elves wore so he could tell them apart. To command inferi to do complicated tasks, you needed to name them and use that name while giving them orders or else they would be unable to do more than stumble around and look intimidating. Well, human inferi looked intimidating. House-elf inferi, as it turned out, looked just kinda creepy but also kinda cute.

Harry gathered all his new elves, plus Lilac, Plum and Boysenberry the first Malfoy elves, around the table in the library that held the newly created map of Magica and explained in detail where they should be digging and ploughing new agricultural fields and what crops should be grown where. Harry then marched all the elves out of the castle, pointed them towards the many, many bags of bulk seed he’d stored on his lawn, and set them to work.

While he’d been buying the seeds Harry had remembered another crop he wanted to grow on the island. Grapes, and specifically grapes for wine. Harry’s wine cellar was still quite full but Harry wanted to ensure that Magica had some wine production of its own in the future. So Harry got his broom and flew to the western part of Magica, where he selected a nice, open area and started transfiguring hills into the landscape. Planting the grapes on the south sides of the hills would ensure maximum sun exposure and a harvest of plump, sweet grapes.

Creating the hills didn’t take too much time, and as Harry got to hover on his broom while doing so the whole thing was a relaxing experience. V took to the sky and cawed obscenities at the hippogriffs who flew up to them a few times to check them out and probably to determine if Harry was a threat or not.

Just as Harry was about done with making hills, he saw a human figure flying towards him.

A figure that was flying without a broom.

“What the fuck,” Harry said, as he touched down to the ground on his broom and stared in amazement as Marvolo came flying towards him without any tools. “How did you do that?” Harry demanded the second Marvolo landed in front of him with an unbearably smug grin. “You have to teach me.”

“Name your price,” Marvolo said while he gave Harry a look that conveyed both innocence and a deep cunning, which did things to Harry’s entire body.

“Fuck, no, you name your price,” Harry said impatiently. He had no time to negotiate, he had to fucking know how to fly without a broom.

Marvolo laughed, his whole face crinkling with amusement. “I can see that patience is not your personal virtue.” Marvolo scrunched up his face as though deep in thought. “Very well, I’ll teach you how to fly without a broom in exchange for unlimited access to your personal library. My Santireen is coming along nicely and I’ll be able to read all those books sooner rather than later.”

“Done,” Harry said at once, extremely pleased with that deal, since he’d always planned on giving Marvolo access to his library anyway. Harry suspected Marvolo may even know that but just wanted to make a deal for appearance’s sake. “Now show me.” Harry quickly tucked his broom into his satchel and gave Marvolo an expectant look.

“Very well.” And for the next half hour Harry was treated to an in-depth lecture on the theory of magical flying without any objects to help you, which was surprisingly fascinating. Then Marvolo taught him the spells he used and Harry got to work trying it for himself.

It was a good thing the meadows around them were lush and the grass was long, because the first dozen times or so Harry managed to launch himself up into the air with no idea how to land safely again. Thankfully the worst of his injuries besides his wounded pride were a plenitude of scrapes and bruises.

V, in the meantime, laughed like he hadn’t done in a long time, his hysterical cackles probably echoing around the whole bloody island.

Marvolo hovered a few dozen feet in the air and watched patiently, though also with some obvious amusement, how Harry finally managed to touch down with his feet first. The next step was staying in the air long enough to manage to propel yourself forward, which also took some practice, and it took Harry well over an hour to ‘fly’ home, with both V and Marvolo moving around him as Harry launched himself up and down and left and right but rarely forward in a steady line. Eventually Harry got the hang of it somewhat and he made it home in one piece where V landed on his shoulder and sagged against his head in sheer exhaustion from laughing so much.

Marvolo had more composure than that, but he too looked as though he hadn’t had that much fun in years.

“Why I actually sought you out this morning,” Marvolo said after Harry invited him inside for lunch. “And may I say that while inferi are useful they lack the ability to answer anyone calling at your door asking for your whereabouts, which is highly annoying.”

Harry snickered while he led Marvolo to the kitchen, imagining how often Igor would have responded with ‘Eurgh’ while Marvolo asked him where to find his master. “So you flew around the whole island looking for little old me? I’m so flattered.”

“As I was saying,” Marvolo said, choosing perhaps wisely to ignore Harry’s childish teasing. “I have finished my homework and you had promised a test.”

Harry sat down at the kitchen table and gave Marvolo an amused smile. The man actually looked eager to take a test and prove himself. It was downright adorable, for some stupid reason. Marvolo sat down opposite Harry while giving him an expectant look, eyes wide and eyebrows quirked. “After lunch I’ll give you a test in the library.”

“Excellent,” Marvolo said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied nod.

Violet served them a delicious quiche with smoked fish and creamy leeks, and Harry and Marvolo remained quiet for a few moments as they enjoyed the meal.

“I talked to Sirius and everyone else last night about project Azkaban,” Harry said eventually as he was about halfway through his lunch. He sat back to sip his white wine and to observe Marvolo’s response.

“Am I to guess that Sirius did not look forward to a reunion with his dearest cousin?” Marvolo asked in a lightly teasing tone.

“Understatement.” Harry shook his head and took another bite of quiche which he chewed carefully. “Everyone present there was vehemently opposed to Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers joining us here on the island, and that’s putting it mildly.”

Marvolo sighed, long and deep, and put his cutlery down for a moment while he reached for his own glass of wine. “I must admit that Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers have been causing me plenty of inner turmoil these last few weeks.”

“Barty and Regulus claimed they would never accept the laws of Magica and just torture and murder people left and right,” Harry said in a steady voice while staring at Marvolo. He was glad to see that at least Marvolo seemed to understand the problem they were facing.

Marvolo nodded slowly. “That is what I worry about as well. Bellatrix was always unstable, very eager to inflict the most amount of pain on others she could get away with. And she genuinely despises muggleborns and half-breeds, that’s what she liked to call werewolves and their ilk.” Marvolo took a long sip of wine. “I doubt over a decade spent in Azkaban has improved her mentality at all.”

“They can’t come here,” Harry said, narrowing his eyes a bit to show this was not open to negotiation. “As far as I’m concerned it would be better to leave them in Azkaban altogether.”

“I know,” Marvolo said, looking quite regretful as he said it. “The problem with that, though, is that it might cause displeasure amongst my other followers. They might even take it as a betrayal, that I would rescue some from Azkaban but not others.”

Harry ate a few more bites of his quiche as he considered that. That was a tough dilemma, because it could very well lead to mutiny amongst the Death Eaters. Though, as far as Harry could tell, the ones that had moved to Magica so far all seemed perfectly happy to go with the flow now that they had a true magical land to call home where they could perform whatever magic they wished. None seemed set on taking over the world anymore, at any rate.

“I could free them and give them tasks to keep them busy in Britain, like I’ve done with Macnair and the Carrows. They are also three of my more volatile followers that refused to even consider moving here.” Marvolo gave Harry a questioning look, as though he wasn’t even sure himself if this was a smart thing to do.

Harry remembered that Marvolo had told him he’d been unsure how to approach his followers in the first place, because even without Harry and Magica his plans had changed once he returned to the land of the living with a large part of his sanity restored. This was just one more dilemma Marvolo was facing because of those changes, made even more apparent thanks to Harry’s construction of a land where all magic was legal. “From what I understand, it would not be a good idea to unleash those people on Britain in any way. Their presence would undoubtedly give people the idea Voldemort had returned.”

“Hm.” Marvolo sat back and frowned. “I hadn’t even considered that yet, but you do have a good point. Bellatrix especially does not do subtle. She’d be unable to remain unseen behind the curtains for very long. She’s always demanded the spotlight for herself.”

Harry finished the last of his quiche while he came up with a solution. “I’ve got an idea, but you might not like it.”

“I’m willing to at least consider any solution at this point,” Marvolo said with no hesitation.

Harry leaned forward, resting both arms on the table. “You free Bellatrix and the Lestranges from Azkaban, same as the others. Then you give them jobs and a safehouse in Britain somewhere. And once everyone is settled, you inform the Aurors of their location and let British law enforcement deal with them.”

“Aside from the utter betrayal of people who were always loyal to me, it’s not a bad idea,” Marvolo said softly. He didn’t outright refuse the idea, so that was something, Harry figured.

“They were always loyal to the old Voldemort,” Harry couldn’t help but point out. “Would they be so loyal to you if they could see you now? Sharing a companiable lunch with Harry Potter? Spending a Saturday night in a pub drinking muggle beer with muggleborns and werewolves?” Harry offered Marvolo a teasing but warm smile.

“You are right,” Marvolo said with a sigh and a nod, briefly bowing his head. “They would despise these recent changes in me, and they wouldn’t show this new me one ounce of loyalty.”

“Then you owe them no loyalty in return.” Harry raised his eyebrows in a challenge to see if Marvolo wanted to argue his point, but Marvolo remained quiet with a contemplative look on his face. “Either way, we don’t have to decide just yet,” Harry said to soften the whole conclusion a little bit. He understood all too well that betraying your own people would not sit well with Marvolo. Harry had been a leader for decades and decades at that point and he’d always prided himself on looking after his people no matter what happened.

“I still haven’t created a suitable potion to mimic the required illness,” Marvolo said while Violet served them tarte Tatin for afters. “So the break-out won’t happen anytime soon.”

“First there’s the Yule Ball tomorrow,” Harry said, sitting up and putting a little bit more energy in his voice. “What are your plans for stealing the basilisk exactly?”

And Marvolo told him what he had in mind for their Hogwarts heist while they enjoyed their apple tart.

“Now for the real challenge,” Harry said as he got up and gestured at Marvolo to follow him. Marvolo looked more eager than anyone Harry had ever seen on his way to take a test. Inside the library, Harry sat down behind his desk and wrote down seven questions about the subject matter of the necromancy book Marvolo had finished studying. Then he handed Marvolo the list, a few blank sheets of paper and a self-inking quill and sat him down at one of the empty tables. “No cheating,” Harry said with a stern frown as he wagged his finger. “V will keep a close eye on you.”

Marvolo, naturally, looked the picture of innocence as he started reading the list of question, while V settled down on the back of a chair opposite Marvolo, glaring at him with narrowed eyes.

“No cheat, no cheat,” V cawed in a menacing tone.

“I have to pop into the public library,” Harry said while he strolled towards the hallway. “I won’t be long.” Marvolo didn’t even seem to hear him as he was already writing down the answer to the first question.

Harry apparated to town square and hurried into the library where he found Regulus sorting through a crate of books at the front desk. It seemed that Regulus was still working his way through the many, many books Harry had provided him with.

“Hey,” Harry said as he stepped up to the desk.

“Harry, hello,” Regulus responded with a polite smile. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for books on wine, or more specifically, on what sort of grapes to use to make wine in this world,” Harry explained, leaning his elbows on the counter.

Regulus cracked an intrigued smile. “Are you going into the wine business?”

“Well, I suppose I am,” Harry said with a shrug. “I want Magica to be as self-sufficient as possible and I do enjoy a good glass of wine, so someone’s going to have to make it.”

Regulus chuckled and stepped away from the counter and into the library proper. Harry followed him at once. “This is our section on agriculture,” Regulus said as they reached a section in the back. “There are quite a few books that discuss growing fruit, so you might find something about grapes in there. I don’t think we have any specific books on making wine, though.”

“I know how to make the wine, I just don’t know what the right kind of grapes are called in this world,” Harry mumbled as he pulled a few books off the shelves.

“Perhaps you’d be better off asking wine farmers what kind of grapes they use,” Regulus suggested and then he cleared his throat, which made Harry looked up with a frown. “Some people have asked if we could start stocking muggle books.”

“What sort of muggle books?” Harry asked, wondering why people needed muggle books when he’d just copied the entire Hogwarts library.

“Fictional books,” Regulus said in a voice that suggested those words had a bit of a foul taste to them. “According to more than one muggleborn visitor, muggles are the superior writers when it comes to fiction.”

“Well,” Harry said as he considered that. “I’m not opposed to stocking some muggle books. I’ll pop by a muggle bookstore to have a look around when I go hunting for the right grapes to grow.”

“I’ll let people know they can expect some muggle additions to the library soon,” Regulus said with a short nod. “We’ve had quite a few visitors already.”

“If it gets too busy for just you to manage this place, you can hire more people to help you,” Harry felt compelled to point out, since he didn’t want Regulus to feel forced to run the library all by himself, especially since he didn’t even get paid for his work.

“I’m doing just fine by myself for now,” Regulus was quick to say. “Once Barty is done playing Moody he’s eager to join me here, so I’ll have help in a few months.”

“Sure, that will work,” Harry agreed and put the books back on the shelf. “It seems I’ll be talking to some wine makers to find what I’m looking for. Thanks anyway.”

“You’re welcome,” Regulus walked Harry to the door and Harry quickly apparated back home where he found Marvolo still writing down answers, head bowed, face creased in concentration.

“No cheat, no cheat,” V was quick to assure Harry, who grinned at his companion while he sat down in a nearby chair and picked up one of the books he’d been reading. It was funny, especially since Marvolo still didn’t have a clue about V’s true nature, but V was the reason Harry was so eager to have Marvolo in his life.

Harry wasn’t a fool. He knew Voldemort had done the exact same things that Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers had done, perhaps even worse. But Harry knew Voldemort’s soul, had spent most of his life with it, and it was impossible for Harry not to want to be close to Marvolo. Even if that perhaps made him a hypocrite. Harry honestly couldn’t care less. He was far too old to worry about any of his own perceived character flaws.

Marvolo sat up and lay down the quill while giving Harry an expectant look. Harry grinned at him, summoned the sheets of paper with a wave of his hand and then sat back to read the very well thought out answers. It illustrated perfectly that Marvolo had an incredible memory and a thorough understanding of the subject matter so far.

“Full points,” Harry said once he’d read all the pages. “I can’t find a single fault in the whole thing.” Then he went back to grinning. “Except perhaps the fact that you’re a tad verbose.”

Marvolo sniffed, raising his chin in the air. “You cannot give me full points and then criticize my work.”

“Fine,” Harry said with a laugh. “Your longwinded answers were absolutely perfect, nothing to critique there whatsoever.”

“Do I get the next book now?” Marvolo asked, eyes wide, looking like an overly eager student again.

Harry summoned the correct book and levitated it to Marvolo. “There will be more tests,” Harry added, just because he loved seeing Marvolo’s face light up in joy. “Also, would you like to go to a muggle bookstore with me?”

“Why?” Marvolo asked, though he didn’t sound opposed to the idea at all.

“Muggleborns want muggle books in the library, and I have no idea how to navigate the muggle world,” Harry said with a vague gesture.

“Shouldn’t book acquisition be a job of the librarian?” Marvolo asked with a curve of his eyebrow.

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “I honestly believe Regulus would be even worse than me at moving about the muggle world without attracting unwanted attention.

“Very well,” Marvolo said as he got up. “Let’s explore some muggle literature.”

Marvolo apparated them to a quiet street in some British town. Harry honestly had no idea where they were, nor did he care. Marvolo quickly disappeared into a small store filled with second-hand books and Harry eagerly followed him. As much as Harry wasn’t sure if muggle books would be at all interesting, he couldn’t resist the sight of so many books in one place.

“If you need anything, let me know,” the middle-aged man behind the counter said without even looking up from the book he was reading.

“Actually,” Harry said as he approached the counter. “I’m looking for a selection of books to start a small neighbourhood library with.”

The man looked up and raised both eyebrows. “What sort of books would you need for that? We’ve got a special going on. Buy one book, get one free. We’re bursting at the seams with our inventory.”

“I’d like the classics,” Harry asked as he considered what was needed in their public library. “But I’d also like a nice selection of more modern literature. What’s popular especially.”

“I can put together a complete package for you,” the man said, now sounding more than a little enthusiastic.

“Make sure they’re in reasonable condition,” Marvolo said, appearing out of the overflowing stacks. “And make sure it’s got a little bit of every genre.”

“And give me a price, so I can fetch enough money for you,” Harry added quickly.

The man got a big grin on his face, obviously eager to get rid of a chunk of his inventory. “I can do 50p per book, with every second book free.”

“So a thousand books would be 250 pounds,” Marvolo said by way of confirmation.

“Yes, exactly,” the man said with an eager nod.

“We’ll take four thousand books for a thousand pounds,” Harry said with a big smile. “If you have them, that is.”

“Just pile them up, we’ll bring the boxes,” Marvolo said with a chuckle at the man’s gobsmacked expression. “We’ll be back in half an hour with the money.”

While the man started rifling through his shelves, Harry and Marvolo apparated back to Harry’s castle to collect enough galleons, which they then exchanged into pounds at Gringotts. The man had a pile of books already waiting for them and Harry applied a few discreet notice-me-not charms on his expandable crates so the man wouldn’t question where all the books went. Harry saw books about a character called Sherlock Holmes pass through his hands, and from authors such as Charles Dickens, Jane Austen and Agatha Christie, and more modern looking books from writers called Douglas Adams, Thomas Harris, Terry Pratchett, Stephen King and Danielle Steele. Harry had no idea what any of these books were about, but he was curious about the books that had pictures on them of scantily clad ladies fainting in the arms of half-naked muscled men.

Marvolo helped the man pull interesting titles off the shelves while Harry dutifully filled up crate after crate until the store looked significantly emptier and the store owner much happier.

Harry paid the man a thousand pounds and Marvolo quickly adjusted the man’s memory so he’d believe Harry and Marvolo had transported all those thousands of books out of there using muggle means.

“What an annoyance,” Harry muttered as they left the store. “Having to always adjust people’s memories just because you used a bit of magic.”

“Thankfully, where we are going we no longer have to worry about that,” Marvolo said with a warm smile and apparated them to town square right in front of the library.

Regulus looked as if he wasn’t sure whether to smile or break down in tears when Harry started unloading the many, many expandable crates.

“There’s only four thousand books,” Harry said with a chuckle while Regulus’ face paled.

“These are all muggle books?” Regulus asked with obvious hesitation in his voice, looking as though Harry had just placed several hungry lethifolds at his feet.

“Every last one of them,” Marvolo commented from where he stood leaning against the counter. He looked as though seeing Regulus speechless and anxious over a pile of muggle books was the height of comedy somehow.

“Well,” Regulus said eventually, squaring his shoulders. “I suppose the third floor is still mostly empty. I can start putting them away there, though I have no clue where to start with all these strange titles.”

“Put up a sign on the door asking for a muggleborn volunteer to help. I’m sure there’s a few bibliophiles on the island,” Harry suggested and then laughed when Regulus all but flew towards the counter to write just such a note to hang on the door. “At any rate, the people have their muggle books. Good luck, Regulus.”

Once they were outside, Marvolo turned to look at Harry. “That was worth the effort just for the look on Regulus’ face alone. A pureblood Black having to decide what genre some of those muggle books are will never not be funny.”

“I’m going to take your word for it,” Harry said, well aware he was just as clueless as Regulus was when it came to those books. “But I am glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Were there any other pressing matters that you needed assistance with?” Marvolo asked as they strolled across town square.

“I need grapes for making wine,” Harry sighed, because he’d still not found a way to learn what grapes he would need. “But I have no clue where to start.”

“There are several large wineries in France that use magically improved grapes to make wine. Write to them and ask if they will sell you some grapevines,” Marvolo suggested with a careless shrug. “I’ll give you their names later, if you’d like.”

Harry could have kissed Marvolo just for that, but he resisted the urge. “Thanks,” he said instead with a small smile. “I would appreciate that.”

“It’s not a problem,” Marvolo assured him and then gave him a hopeful look. “It’s almost time for dinner. Shall we see what Dobby would serve us tonight?”

And that is how Harry joined Marvolo for dinner that evening, where they enjoyed some juicy lambchops with potatoes gratin and roasted vegetables while they talked about all sorts of things, and once again Harry was struck by how easy it was to spend time with Marvolo and how comfortable Harry felt in the man’s presence.

After dinner Harry went home with a glow in his chest and a smile on his face.

The next day Harry spent the morning puttering around his own grounds, checking up on his chickens and his pigs, which were doing fine under Slate’s devoted care. Right after lunch, Harry flew to Melissa Greengrass’ house and yes, he used a broom because he did not want to make a fool of himself trying to land in the middle of Spellbridge. He was well aware he needed a bit more practice in flying by himself.

Melissa had created a modern set of robes for him, that opened at the front and showed a rather tight pair of black trousers and a button-down black shirt. Harry gladly paid her a handful of gold coins for her efforts.

After carefully dropping off his new clothing at home, Harry did fly by himself, without a broom, to basilisk island, much to V’s amusement, who again couldn’t stop laughing at Harry’s inability to fly in a straight line. Still, Harry made it to the island and never once fell into the ocean, so he counted that as a win. The wards were already humming and ready to be activated, and Harry studied the intricate rune patterns Marvolo had inscribed around the edges of the island. They seemed familiar somehow, yet Harry was sure he’d never seen them before. He’d have to ask Marvolo about them, but that would have to wait for another day.

Harry returned home by way of apparition, to save some time, and then both he and V took a bath. Harry made sure to shave and brush his hair back in a tight ponytail at the base of his neck, and then he got dressed in his brand-new clothes. He admired himself in the mirror in his bedroom and thought he looked quite handsome and sharp by wizarding standards.

Marvolo arrived on time, dressed in brand-new black robes as well, and much like Harry’s they were opened in the front, though their design was a little more minimalist than Harry’s, which had some minor embroidery around the collar. Still, Marvolo looked ridiculously handsome and Harry admired what he saw while Marvolo looked him over a few times in return.

“Ready to turn some heads?” Marvolo asked, holding out his arm like a gentleman. Harry easily slid his arm through Marvolo’s.

“Absolutely. And to steal your murder serpent,” Harry added with a wide grin. Marvolo winked at him and apparated them to the gates of Hogwarts where they entered without any problem. They were right on time as they strolled across the lawn, through the double doors and into the entrance hall where they saw a few of the other champions already waiting.

“Ah, Mr Potter,” McGonagall said as she seemed to be herding all the champions together. “I am glad you came to your senses and decided to attend after all.” It was then that McGonagall noticed who Harry had brought as his date and her face paled at such an alarming rate that Harry stepped forward without a thought, and just in time, too, because McGonagall’s eyes rolled back and she promptly fainted in his arms.

Chapter Text

Chapter 34

Albus hated to admit it, but he was feeling a little…frazzled of late. It had started with Harry Potter rejecting the prophecy, it had worsened with Harry Potter emptying and closing the Potter and Black vaults, and it had come to an appalling conclusion with Harry Potter going to Gringotts and creating an official will.

And while Albus had no idea what exactly was written in that official will, he was fairly certain his own name wouldn’t be mentioned it in anywhere. And since Harry was an adult, this new, official will overruled James and Lily’s unofficial will Albus had clung to for so many years in the hopes of eventually inheriting the Potter and Black fortune for himself. To use for the war effort, of course.

Albus had thrown out a few careful feelers around the Ministry, to perhaps have Harry Potter officially declared incompetent so the Wizengamot could appoint a guardian, to make all decisions for him. But so far no one seemed at all interested in such an option. Bartemius Crouch had even pointed out that the Wizengamot didn’t have the authority to declare a foreign citizen incompetent or not.

That was one of the issues Albus ran into nowadays, whenever he tried to manoeuvre Harry’s life. Most people refused to help him since Harry was no longer a British citizen, at least according to Bartemius Crouch and everyone he’d managed to convince of that, even if no one could tell Albus exactly where Harry had moved to.

And then just hours before the Yule Ball was set to begin, Bill Weasley had flooed Albus to tell him that Harry Potter had successfully sold Grimmauld Place, one of the Black properties he’d inherited from Sirius Black.

And Albus had smiled at Bill while he thanked him for sharing that news, and the moment the floo connection was severed, Albus had thrown his candy dish straight across his office, sending his beloved sherbet lemons scattering around the room.

Albus had plans for Grimmauld Place. He was going to turn it into permanent headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, since the Black family properties were famous for their invincible wards. And now a squib had bought it and was going to remodel it so he could sell it to muggles.

All that magic and potential wasted, because Harry Potter refused to play the part Albus needed him to play.

And now Albus was stuck at that blasted Yule Ball while his nerves stood on edge and his mind was occupied with much more serious matters. But he was Hogwarts’ headmaster and he would play that part and play it well. So Albus talked genially with Karkaroff and Maxime while the students trickled inside the beautifully decorated Great Hall.

Minerva would guide the champions inside once they were ready. According to her, Harry Potter had vehemently declined to attend and she hadn’t heard anything to the contrary since. If Harry couldn’t be bothered to even attend a prestigious social gathering, Albus might be able to use that in his quest to seek some sort of official control over him.

Seeking a form of guardianship over Harry Potter was the only option Albus had left, save for putting the young man under the imperius curse. And while that latter option was tempting, Albus did think himself too good of a man to stoop to the use of the Unforgivable Curses.

There seemed to be some sort of small disturbance in the entrance hall, if the rumours that Albus heard spoken around him by various students were true, but it seemed to have been resolved quickly, whatever it was. Albus was sure Minerva would fill him in later, if it even needed his attention at all.

Minerva entered the Great Hall, signalling that they were ready for the champions to enter. She gestured at the students inside the Great Hall to form two rows for the champions to walk between, and the small orchestra started playing a lively tune that would allow the champion to open the ball with a dance.

Viktor Krum had Hermione Granger on his arm, Albus was surprised to see. And that was all Albus saw for a moment, because his vision swam when he noticed the two men entering after Diggory and Delacour.

Harry Potter had brought Lord Voldemort to the Yule Ball.

Albus blinked his eyes, and then blinked again. He quickly removed his glasses and rubbed a finger through his eyes, but even that did nothing to change the most disturbing image he saw before him.

Harry Potter had brought Lord Voldemort to the Yule Ball.

Minerva hurried to his side just as the champions spread out across the dance floor and started waltzing. Lord Voldemort took the lead, which was perhaps not surprising since Harry would probably have no knowledge of how to dance any official dances like a waltz.

“It’s his son,” Minerva all but shrieked in his ear. “Voldemort has an illegitimate son, and Harry has befriended him.”

Albus looked from the dancing Dark Lord to Minerva, still unsure if anything that was happening was even real. Could even be real. “His son? Are you sure?”

Minerva puffed up a bit in annoyance. “Honestly, Albus, do you truly suggest that is actually Lord Voldemort? Dancing with Harry Potter at the Yule Ball?”

Albus swallowed against a dry throat while his hand twitched to reach for the comfort of the Elder wand. Minerva was right. It didn’t make sense for Voldemort to come here with his prophesized enemy. Harry may have rejected the prophecy, but Lord Voldemort certainly hadn’t, Albus was sure of that. Voldemort wouldn’t play nice with Harry Potter, not for any reason. Voldemort was far too worried about his own mortality to ever entertain the idea of letting his prophesized vanquisher live.

Heaving a deep, slightly relieved sigh, Albus nodded at Minerva. “Yes, of course it has to be his son.”

Minerva’s tight expression relaxed somewhat, as though she’d honestly been worried Albus might not have accepted this news and would have insisted this man was Voldemort reborn. “His name is Marvolo Gaunt. He changed it recently. Apparently he grew up with his mother, didn’t even know the identity of his father until after she died earlier this year.” Minerva shuddered briefly. “Though I admit the resemblance is uncanny. It certainly caught me by surprise when they first entered the school.”

Albus nodded again, willing himself to further relax. He wasn’t yet sure what it meant exactly, Harry befriending Voldemort’s offspring, but at least he could rest assured Voldemort himself hadn’t managed to infiltrate Hogwarts.

The official dancing soon ended and tables were pushed into place around the hall for dinner. Albus knew he’d be sitting with Harry and his date, so he mentally prepared himself to question Harry about his current location and his questionable tastes in dance partners.

Once they were all seated and had ordered their food, Albus addressed the Dark Lord’s supposed son. “You look like the spitting image of your father.”

Gaunt blinked at him for a moment before offering him a small, almost shy smile. “You’re not the first to tell me this tonight. At least you managed to stay on your feet, unlike your deputy headmistress.” Gaunt chuckled for a moment, and then quickly covered his mouth with a hand, as though embarrassed to have shown any amusement. “I never knew my father, so I will take your word for it, Headmaster.”

Albus nodded genially, while his mind was full of contradictory thoughts. Gaunt truly did look like a copy of Tom Riddle, yet here he was, attending the Yule Ball with Harry Potter. It couldn’t be Voldemort, logically Albus knew that, and yet there was a small part in the back of his mind that kept insisting he was faced with the Dark Lord here as part of some sort of devious plan Albus hadn’t managed to unravel yet.

“I was sorry to hear you moved abroad,” Albus said, now addressing Harry.

“Were you really?” Harry gave him a disgusted look, as though Albus was something filthy he’d just scraped off the bottom of his boot. “You honestly thought I’d be happy to remain living in the country that refused to give my godfather a fair trial?”

Albus pursed his lips for a moment, before waving Harry’s comment away. “It is unfortunate that your only living link to your parents turned out to be a criminal.” Albus saw that Harry wanted to say something in return, but he never gave him the chance. “Your parents would be very surprised to know you’d left Britain altogether, I’m sure. They loved their country. They died for it. I wonder if you will ever feel that same kind of connection to the country you have moved to.” Albus briefly narrowed his eyes. “Where did you say you moved to?”

“I didn’t say,” Harry answered in a monotone voice. He gave a careless shrug while he cut up his porkchop. “I’ve been receiving all matter of strange mail, from people praising me for no reason to people sending me cursed letters. This has convinced me that it is in my own best interest to keep my current location a secret.”

Albus nodded thoughtfully. “I understand having to deal with such tasks might be a bit much for someone who grew up in a different society.”

“It’s not,” Harry was quick to say. “I manage just fine, thank you.”

Sighing, Albus considered how else he was going to try to get Harry to give up his new location. “As you are a participant of the tournament, it is vital that the officials know your current address.”

“No, it’s not,” Harry said with a crooked grin, as though he was well aware what Albus was trying to do. “I have read the entire rulebook, and nowhere does it mention that candidates have to hand over such information.”

Albus managed a brief but agreeable smile and focused on his meal for a while. He tried many more times throughout the dinner to get Harry to divulge his location, or to trip him up about having trouble adjusting to living in the wizarding world. Albus knew trying to get some kind of guardianship over Harry Potter was a longshot, but it was the only thing he had left to try. If he didn’t, the Potter and Black vaults were lost to him forever, and Albus simply refused to accept that.

At least the Dark Lord’s spawn seemed far too cheerful and besotted with Harry to actually be the Dark Lord, Albus decided by the time dinner was done. Thank Merlin for small mercies.

Once the tables were taken away and the dancing got underway, Albus lost sight of Harry and Gaunt, but he did see that ridiculous raven sitting up in the ceiling beams where he’d spent the whole night so far. Albus assumed Harry was still somewhere nearby, since Albus knew, from many reports he’d received from several different people, Harry never separated from the bird.

000000000000000

Right when Voldemort and Harry slipped away from the ball, Harry pulled an invisibility cloak from his pocket and opened it up. “Think this will fit us both?”

Voldemort stared at it in surprise and then shrugged. They might as well use that instead of casting disillusionment charms. It was only a short walk one floor up to the bathroom that held the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. “Let’s find out.”

They did fit, but it was a tight squeeze, and Voldemort found himself plastered against Harry’s broad back, his nose practically buried in Harry’s hair.

When Voldemort had started splitting his soul decades ago, one of the first things he’d lost was his libido. It had never been big or particularly active, but the moment he created his first horcrux, it had slowed down and down, until by the third horcrux it had just about seized to exist. But with his rebirth and the addition of the diary horcrux, his libido had slowly been returning. Having Billy Malone suck his cock had been a nice little test to see if everything worked, since it had been decades at that point since Voldemort had any kind of sex.

And while Billy Malone had gotten him off without any issues, it hadn’t been quite as satisfying as Voldemort wanted it to be.

It hadn’t been Harry, sucking his cock. And Voldemort very much wanted Harry for those kind of activities.

Spending an hour holding Harry in his arms while he swung him around the dancefloor just now had only confirmed Voldemort’s attraction to the man. And now he was practically riding Harry’s back while they snuck through Hogwarts’ mostly empty halls. Voldemort was more than tempted to drag Harry inside the first available broom closet for a quick snog and wank, but honestly, they weren’t teenagers. Voldemort could control himself enough that he could postpone such plans until after they relocated the basilisk.

But after they finished their serpent heist all bets were off. Harry smelled so good that Voldemort honestly had trouble concentrating and they almost walked straight past the girls’ bathroom before Voldemort steered them inside.

”Open,” Voldemort hissed at the correct tap, and the whole wall slid aside to reveal the dark tunnel.

Harry folded his cloak, stuffed it into his pocket and then gave Voldemort an inquiring look. “How are we getting down there?”

“We fly,” Voldemort replied with a grin before throwing himself down the tunnel, activating the charms that let him propel himself through the air without a broom. Lots of cursing told him Harry was hot on his heels but still had trouble flying in a straight line. At the bottom of the pipe, Voldemort touched down and then was able to grab hold of Harry’s arm and keep him from tumbling face-first into the muck and bones that lay beneath their feet.

“Is this the Chamber of Secrets?” Harry asked, slowly turning around the take in the dirt floor and the dripping walls covered in mould.

“No, but we’re almost there.” Voldemort lit his wand while a strange sense of nostalgia swept over him. He hadn’t been down there since he was a teenager, a student of Hogwarts. At the time, discovering the Chamber of Secrets had filled him with an enormous sense of entitlement. He was the direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin. He deserved to find the Chamber. It was his sacred duty to use the basilisk and rid Hogwarts of all the mudblood filth.

What a little fool he’d been.

He hadn’t gotten rid of anything, but he had almost caused Hogwarts to close, and the only person who’d died had done so by accident, by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And now, many decades later, Voldemort had finally come to the conclusion that muggleborns weren’t the problem, and never had been the problem. Restrictive laws implemented by a prejudiced ministry, and the threat of discovery by muggles were the main issues they now faced.

But Harry Potter had found the solution to those problems, and had willingly shared it with Voldemort.

What a difference a lifetime made, Voldemort mused as they walked through the tunnel to the actual entrance of the Chamber.

“Is that a snakeskin?” Harry asked at some point, eyes wide as he took in the sheer size of the shed skin they found.

“Yes, we should take it with us,” Voldemort said, summoning the skin with a wave of his wand. “I’m sure we can find some uses for it, other than letting it rot away here.”

Harry pulled his satchel out of his pocket and rummaged around for a shrunken down trunk. Voldemort had learned that Harry always had trunks and crates and boxes on his person, because he was used to travelling and coming across all sorts of useful things, from edible plants and barrels of beer to dead bodies. The shed skin disappeared into the trunk and they continued their way.

Voldemort opened the second gate with a hiss of parseltongue, and at once many torches around the room lit up, illuminating the whole Chamber with their flickering light.

“Ah, yeah, this looks more like it,” Harry said with an approving smile as he looked at Voldemort over his shoulder.

Voldemort wanted nothing more than to ravage him right there and then, but he controlled himself. Later. After Sylva was safely transported to her new home, Voldemort was going to positively defile Harry Potter.

Harry walked deeper inside the Chamber, head tilting left and right as he took in the whole room. Voldemort trailed after him, enjoying seeing the man look so impressed.

“Wait,” Harry said as he suddenly rushed forward. “Those are human remains.” Harry crouched down beside a skeleton, the ground beneath it discoloured where the body had decomposed. There were still clumps of long, red hair visible. “Who died here?”

Voldemort had the diary horcrux’s memories, but they were vague and felt very distant. He did know that the diary horcrux had found a young victim to possess, so he could steal her life and create a body of his own. “Ah, yes, that is the girl who died here some years ago. Lucius, against my wishes, foisted off one of my horcruxes onto her.”

Harry gave a thoughtful nod as he caressed a few of the rib bones. It slightly unnerved Voldemort, to see how comfortable Harry always was around dead things. Voldemort wasn’t as petrified of the idea of death anymore as he’d once been, when he first visited the Chamber all those decades ago. Nowadays he had multiple horcruxes and the Elixir of Life at his disposal, and he felt secure enough in his own immortality that he could face the idea of death without being filled with an overwhelming sense of anxiety.

But that didn’t mean that he felt comfortable around death, not like Harry did. Voldemort very much doubted if he’d ever be able to let go of his biggest fear to such an extent, no matter that he truly, desperately wanted to become a true necromancer.

“Do you know who it was?” Harry asked with a little frown as he looked up at Voldemort from his kneeling position. Voldemort decided there and then that he very much enjoyed the sight of Harry kneeling at his feet. Before Voldemort could answer, Harry added, “One of my young assistants, Ron Weasley, mentioned that his sister went missing. Was this her?”

Voldemort thought for a moment, trying to access memories that felt like they’d been made inside a different head that had never belonged to him. “I believe so,” he said eventually. “I honestly don’t quite remember. All I know is that Lucius gave away the horcrux against my express instructions to a young student.”

Harry went back to inspecting the skeleton, again touching the bones without any hesitation. “She looks young, no more than twelve. We saw what one of your horcruxes did to Regulus, and he was a fully matured wizard when he first encountered it.”

“A girl as young as that never stood a chance,” Voldemort agreed quietly. It was strange. Harry didn’t seem upset by the death of this young student, but he did look like he felt the need to acknowledge it in some way. Voldemort had never quite understood human emotions like that, but he was happy enough to let Harry do as he wanted.

After a few more moments of quiet contemplation, Harry got up again and gave Voldemort an expectant look. “So where’s your murder serpent hiding?”

Voldemort rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back an amused little smile. He reached for his wand and casually aimed it at Harry, who didn’t so much as flinch. Any other witch or wizard would have cowered in fear to have Voldemort point his wand at them, but Harry only looked mildly interested in the whole situation. “The basilisk’s look kills,” Voldemort said by way of explanation. “I’m a parselmouth, which means I’m immune to its gaze. But you need to wear a blindfold until I’ve managed to convince Sylva to use her nictating membrane to keep her deadly gaze covered.”

“Her what membrane?” Harry asked while he gestured at Voldemort to go ahead.

“Her third eyelid,” Voldemort said, and then waved his wand and conjured a black blindfold right over Harry’s eyes that tied behind his head. “Wait here. Whatever you hear, don’t move. Sylva may be a little confused from being woken up suddenly.”

Harry nodded amicably, and Voldemort turned his back to him and addressed the huge statue. ”Open,” Voldemort called out, and he waited a moment for the statue to move and reveal the large, dark tunnel that led straight to the basilisk’s lair. “Sylva, wake up! It’s Tom!” Voldemort decided it was probably best to refer to himself by his original name, since that was the name he’d used to introduce himself to Sylva all those years ago. Nowadays he’d decided to go by Marvolo, but for some reason that didn’t quite fit him just yet, so he still thought of himself as Voldemort, even though that wasn’t a comfortable fit anymore either.

A deep, grating sound filled the Chamber as something large and scaly slid across stone floors. Voldemort couldn’t hold back a genuinely happy smile. He remembered well how thrilled he’d been when he’d first met and befriended Sylva, and how truly sad he felt that he had to leave her behind when he couldn’t safely open the Chamber anymore. Back then, Voldemort had still been convinced that he’d be able to become a teacher at Hogwarts at some point in the near future, and that he’d have plenty of opportunities to visit with Sylva again. But alas, life hardly ever happened the way people expected it to. That certainly was a lesson Voldemort had learned very well over the years.

”Tom? Is that really you?” Sylva hissed as her large, green nose poked out of the opening, soon followed by her flickering tongue. ”How long has it been? It feels like a very long time since I last saw you.”

Voldemort released a little sigh while Sylva revealed her entire body as she slid inside the main chamber. ”I’m sorry to say it’s been fifty years since I last visited you. I meant to return sooner, but I was unable to for many reasons.”

Sylva came to a stop just a few feet in front of Voldemort, and he quickly crossed the remaining distance and placed his hand on her nose, giving it an affectionate stroke. ”Sylva, could you do me a favour and use your membrane to shield your gaze? My friend Harry has joined me for my visit and he has no natural protection against your powers.”

Instead of doing as he’d asked, Sylva seemed to peek around Voldemort for a moment before giving him a confused look. ”Are you sure about that, Tom? He seems to be doing fine.”

Voldemort blinked a few times in confusion and then he glanced over his shoulder and just about had a heart attack. His breathing all but stopped while his heart suddenly hammered in his chest.

Harry stood there, blindfold gone completely, eyes locked with Sylva’s gaze. Harry gave Sylva a little wave and Voldemort a huge grin. ”Don’t mind me, I’m fine. Nice to meet you, Sylva.”

That was parseltongue!

Harry Potter was a parselmouth.

Just when Voldemort thought Harry couldn’t possibly be anymore perfect, between his love for dark magic and his bottomless well of obscure magical knowledge, he proved the impossible and made himself even more desirable than he already was.

Before he could stop himself, Voldemort’s darker impulses took over and Voldemort rushed at Harry, grabbed both his shoulders and crushed their lips together. While Voldemort kissed Harry as though he planned to physically devour him, he pushed Harry back and back until Harry hit the wall behind them.

Harry responded with a heated groan while he pressed himself against Voldemort, one hand buried in Voldemort’s hair. Voldemort plundered Harry’s mouth with his tongue, bucking his hips against Harry’s, his cock hard almost instantly. He’d never been this aroused in his entire life, he was sure of it.

If Voldemort would have the power to design the perfect partner for himself, he probably would have dreamed up a man just like Harry. It was uncanny and even a bit suspicious how good of a fit they were together. Later, perhaps, Voldemort would once again question if his budding relationship with Harry Potter wasn’t all part of some elaborate trap, but for now his instant arousal demanded release and Voldemort tugged on Harry’s trousers with a great sense of urgency.

”Tom?” Sylva asked from a very large distance away. She was the last thing on Voldemort’s mind right now. ”Tom, if you’re going to mate instead of talk I am going back to bed.” A large body slid across stones in the background, but Voldemort hardly noticed it.

Harry was just as eagerly pulling open Voldemort’s trousers and before long they had each other’s hard cocks in their hands while they continued to kiss as though they would literally fall over dead if they stopped. Harry bucked against Voldemort’s fist, green eyes closed and tongue slamming against Voldemort’s. Harry squeezed his fingers around Voldemort’s hard cock, moving his hand up and down faster and faster, and if Voldemort hadn’t been so utterly consumed by heat and arousal he might have been a little embarrassed by how little time it took to shoot his release all over Harry’s fist.

Though Harry didn’t take much longer and was soon spurting strings of semen all over Voldemort’s black robes. They finally let up for air, tongues raw and lips mildly bruised. Harry leaned his forehead against Voldemort’s shoulder while Voldemort nuzzled Harry’s hair.

“This wasn’t enough,” Voldemort muttered, more to himself than to Harry. “This wasn’t nearly enough. I have to fuck you, Harry. I have to.”

Harry laughed, long and deep while he lifted his head up and gave Voldemort an unrepentant grin. “I would certainly enjoy spending a night fucking you, but now is not the time.”

Voldemort wanted to object, but Harry placed a finger against Voldemort’s lips while he kept grinning like a fool. “We have a murder serpent to relocate. And then we have to return to the ball, because V can only act as a distraction for so long before people realize we’re missing. Dumbledore seemed to accept you’re Voldemort’s illegitimate get for now. Let’s not give him any reasons to change his mind.”

Mention of Dumbledore certainly did cool down Voldemort’s overheated libido to the point that his brain started working properly again. “You’re right, of course. Let’s finish the mission, but afterwards…” Voldemort leaned closer to Harry and briefly bit at his bottom lip, which only made Harry grin wider. “Afterwards, we are going to fuck so hard we might actually bring that ridiculous castle of yours to the ground.”

Harry threw back his head and laughed again while Voldemort regrettably stepped back from his new lover. “My castle is not ridiculous,” Harry said with a mock-glare. “I’ve built it myself. Took me years.”

“It’s the muggle version of Hogwarts,” Voldemort said while buttoning up his trousers. “If you told muggles to build a magical castle, that’s what they’d come up with.”

“Pfft.” Harry put his own clothes back to rights but he was still grinning, eyes shining with amusement. “You’re just jealous you don’t have your own castle.”

Voldemort was a little jealous of that, actually, but he wasn’t about to admit that. Still, Voldemort had figured out some weeks ago, when he’d first decided to make Harry Potter his in every possible way, that they could use Harry’s castle as their private residence while keeping Gaunt Mansion for Death Eater meetings and such. He just hadn’t mentioned those plans to Harry yet, for obvious reasons.

”Let’s convince Sylva to move to Magica first,” Voldemort said in parseltongue, just because he could.

”Sure, let’s give her the sales pitch,” Harry replied in kind, making Voldemort want to ravish him all over again.

But Sylva, as it turned out, wasn’t so easily convinced.

”But I like it here,” Sylva said for the umpteenth time after Voldemort kept telling her about the amazing island that was waiting for her. ”This is my home. Salazar made it for me.”

Harry nudged Voldemort with his elbow and leaned a little closer. “I might be able to transport parts of the Chamber to the cave system on her island. I don’t feel very strong wards around this chamber.”

Voldemort frowned while he got his wand out and cast several detection charms around the chamber. The main wards of Hogwarts didn’t extend this far, that much was clear. But there were wards around the chamber, though they seemed very old and not as strong as they’d once been.

“You are the descendant of Slytherin, right?” Harry said, as he also examined the magic around the chamber with many flicks of his wand. “So you could, in theory, take control of these wards.”

“You have a good point,” Voldemort said and went to work unravelling the wards while Harry stopped Sylva from going back to bed again by explaining their plans to move the entire chamber. Sylva seemed perfectly agreeable to that particular plan, much to their combined relief.

It took some doing, but Voldemort managed to bend the wards to his will enough that he could give Harry access. Harry immediately started inscribing the necessary runes around the room, which didn’t take all that long since the chamber wasn’t that big. Within half an hour Harry had the whole place ready to fold up, and he opened a portal to Basilisk Island. They urged Sylva through first, Voldemort was second and Harry brought up the rear while he pulled the whole Chamber of Secrets with him through the portal. An enormous crash sounded in their wake, with the sound of debris falling and rocks crumbling while a huge cloud of dust exploded onto Basilisk Island through the opened portal.

“Did we just accidentally collapse Hogwarts?” Harry asked as he shared a wide-eyed look with Voldemort.

“I have no idea,” Voldemort said, gesturing at Harry impatiently. “But I suggest you get that chamber installed at once so we can hurry back to Hogwarts and make sure no one suspects us in case something did happen.”

Harry did as instructed and quickly jammed the whole chamber into the largest of the caves. Sylva seemed slightly overwhelmed by the whole thing, but they had no time to comfort her now. Voldemort activated the wards around the island while Harry closed the portal, and then they apparated back to just outside the Hogwarts gates. Voldemort quickly cleaned them both up with a few spells, making sure they didn’t look as though they’d just spent an hour stealing the Chamber of Secrets from Hogwarts. Then they walked onto the grounds while pretending to be out for an evening stroll while they took a break from all the dancing, like so many other couples seemed to be doing. Harry had his arm hooked through one of Voldemort’s and they made small talk about all the wonderful details they’d seen in the castle.

Just as they reached the main doors, Dumbledore stepped out, looking around wildly until he noticed the both of them. Then Dumbledore’s shoulders seemed to sag a little as though he was relieved. Severus came up behind the headmaster.

“Large parts of the girls’ bathroom and surrounding classrooms on the second floor have caved in, as have several classrooms on the first floor,” Severus said to a frowning Dumbledore. “It seems as though there always existed a huge cavern somewhere under Hogwarts that has now opened up for unknown reasons.”

“As long as no one was harmed, we can repair any damage easily enough,” Dumbledore said, right as McGonagall joined the headmaster.

“We cannot allow Hogwarts to remain open,” McGonagall said with an angry frown. “Parts of the castle just caved in. We have no idea why, and until we do we cannot guarantee anyone’s safety inside the castle. We have to evacuate Hogwarts right away.”

Dumbledore looked like he wanted to argue, but after a silent battle of pointed stares between him and McGonagall, Dumbledore finally nodded. “Very well. I shall inform the Yule Ball visitors that the ball has come to a premature end.”

“And I’ll get all the students to pack their belongings so they can head home for the holidays first thing in the morning,” McGonagall said with tightly pursed lips. “I’ll arrange for the Hogwarts Express to be here at the crack of dawn. In the meantime, perhaps we should conjure tents for them on the lawn.”

V came flying out of the castle and landed on Harry’s shoulder. “Castle go boom, castle go boom.”

Harry bit his lip, obviously to keep from laughing, and even Voldemort had trouble keeping his composure. They hadn’t meant to do it, but it seemed that they’d accidentally managed to implode Hogwarts. Voldemort couldn’t wait to see how this was going to bite Dumbledore in the arse.

Chapter Text

Chapter 35

“We can help with conjuring tents for the students,” Marvolo said to a clearly overwhelmed McGonagall after Dumbledore had disappeared inside the castle again.

“That would be most welcome,” McGonagall said with a tired sigh. She seemed to gather herself for a moment, brushing her hands down her robes a few times before she went to alert the students to start packing their belongings.

Harry got an idea and he followed Marvolo towards the open lawn where the tents were to go. “You start making tents. V, stay with him.”

“Why, why?” V demanded while he pulled on Harry’s ear in annoyance.

“Because I’m going to get that girl’s skeleton and place it in the wreckage we left behind so it will be found,” Harry explained, and V calmed down once he understood Harry actually had a good reason to abandon him again.

“Excellent plan,” Marvolo agreed quickly. “It will be one more very rusty nail in Dumbledore’s coffin tonight.”

Harry nodded at Marvolo’s words, inwardly amused that was why Marvolo thought Harry wanted to expose the girl’s remains. What Marvolo didn’t know, because Harry hadn’t told anyone, was that Harry was a father and a grandfather, and he could very well imagine the sheer terror the girl’s parents must feel not knowing what had happened to one of their children. This way they’d get some answers and some closure, no matter how heart breaking the confirmed death of their child would be. One of Harry’s young assistants, Ron Weasley, had mentioned a time or two that his sister had gone missing and Harry strongly suspected the remains belonged to her. This way Ron would get a chance to properly mourn his little sister as well.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Harry whispered, pushing gently against V until the raven flapped his wings and moved over to Marvolo’s shoulder. It still amused Harry to no end how put out Marvolo could look anytime he was forced to interact with a piece of his own soul.

Harry hurried towards the treeline so the darkness around him would hide his actions. Once cast in shadows, Harry pulled his broom from the satchel he kept in the pocket of his robes and enlarged it. Under the cover of darkness, Harry flew towards the school’s edge as fast as he could and the second he crossed the wards he apparated to Basilisk Island, broom still in hand.

Sylva wasn’t to be found in the haphazardly installed Chamber, which saved Harry an explanation of why he was removing the decomposed body. Harry opened a very small portal, just big enough to shove a skeleton through, leading to the location he’d used earlier, where the Chamber used to be. The whole place was covered in debris great and small, but there were plenty of air pockets in between the larger rocks, and Harry had no problems levitating the girl’s remains between some of the rubble. As people started repairing the castle they’d come across the body eventually.

Harry apparated back to Hogwarts and used his broom to return to the forest’s edge closest to Marvolo.

Moody was berating a very unimpressed looking Marvolo while small clutches of students and some of the Yule Ball guests milled about on the lawn in confusion.

“I know you had something to do with this, Gaunt!” Moody growled, artificial eye spinning wildly in its socket. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and I know exactly what tree you came from!”

Harry could have kissed Barty. By having Moody accuse Marvolo of all sorts of imagined crimes without a shred of evidence, Barty actually made it less likely that people would believe Marvolo had anything to do with it.

“Potter!” Moody barked when Harry strolled towards them. “And where have you been? Preparing more terrorist acts?”

Blinking in confusion, Harry gestured over his own shoulder towards the woods. “I was taking a piss. We’re not allowed to use the bathrooms in the castle anymore. It’s not safe.”

“Castle go boom, castle go boom,” V agreed, hopping up and down on Marvolo’s shoulder.

“You did this!” Moody grumbled as he took a few large steps towards Harry so he could glare up at him, his scarred face scrunched up in obvious anger. “You and the Dark Lord’s spawn did this, and I’ll prove it, mark my words!”

Harry held up both hands, giving Moody an unimpressed look while he really wanted to commend Barty for his acting skills.

Moody turned around and spotted some of the students gathered nearby staring at him with opened mouths. “What are you all looking at? Go back to your dormitories!” And with that, Moody stormed off across the lawn.

“Don’t go back into the castle,” Marvolo called towards the bewildered students. “We’ll have accommodations set up for you in no time at all.”

Harry shared an amused glance with Marvolo as V quickly flew back to settle on Harry’s shoulder. They dutifully conjured tent after tent, making them big enough to house an entire year’s worth of students inside, separated by gender. Marvolo took care of the tents, while Harry conjured sleeping mats and sleeping bags, making sure each tent had at least six. That would allow the students to catch a few hours of sleep at least before the Hogwarts Express arrived.

When they had enough tents set up and the students that trickled out of the castle retreated into them one after another, Harry and Marvolo walked back inside the castle. Officially, to see if they could be of further help. Unofficially, because they wanted to see the damage they’d accidentally caused.

It was quite the disaster, to be honest. Removing the Chamber had collapsed a significant part of the castle, several floors up. Debris and dust was everywhere, and several portraits had been lost or damaged in the collapse. Their occupants complained loudly, almost drowning out Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Maxime and Crouch Sr, who stood discussing the damage.

“We conjured enough tents,” Harry said to Dumbledore as though he was a soldier reporting to his general. Harry wanted to appear nothing but helpful at that moment, to hopefully drive any suspicion away from them. He truly hadn’t meant to cause such damage to Hogwarts. “Was there anything else you needed help with right now?”

Dumbledore looked at him in surprise for a moment before shaking his head. “Ah, no, there is nothing else needed at the moment. The Ministry will send some specialists tomorrow to assess the damage and arrange repairs. For now, the students need to be evacuated, but our staff is arranging that.”

“We’ll make sure all the students get settled into tents,” Harry suggested with a kind smile, putting on a bit of an act in front of their current audience.

Nodding, Dumbledore turned back towards the others. “Yes, thank you, Harry.”

But before Harry and Marvolo could take their leave, Moody came clunking around the corner. “They did it, Albus. Mark my words, these two terrorists just attacked Hogwarts.”

“Now, now, Alastor,” Dumbledore said with a surprisingly tired look aimed at his old friend. “Do you have any evidence of this?”

“Who else would have done it?” Moody pointed a gnarly finger at Marvolo. “You know who his father is. I daresay that boy came here to finish his family’s business.”

“I assure you I am nothing like my father,” Marvolo said in a frosty tone, glaring at Moody with all his might. Marvolo was just as good an actor as Barty was, Harry decided. “Besides,” Marvolo continued with an almost careless gesture at the disaster area in front of them. “It looks like a sinkhole opened up beneath the castle.”

“A what?” Crouch Senior asked with a worried frown.

“A sinkhole,” Marvolo said with a patient look. For some reason, Harry couldn’t stop looking at Marvolo’s lips while he spoke. He could still feel those lips devour him, as they’d done earlier in the Chamber. Kissing Marvolo had been just as good, if not better, than Harry had imagined and he was determined to do it again as soon as he could. “It’s a hole that opens up unexpectedly because a layer of earth or rocks beneath it have disappeared. Washed out suddenly or worn away over many years. When sinkholes appear under buildings, this is very much what it looks like.”

“Yes, thank you for that explanation,” Dumbledore said with a bit of a sour little smile, as though he wanted to reject anything Marvolo said simply on principle. “But we’ll first hear what the Ministry specialists have to say before we draw any conclusion.”

“Naturally,” Marvolo agreed easily enough. Harry admired his tactics. Even just mentioning sinkholes as a plausible explanation now made sure the others would at least consider it as a genuine cause of the collapse, and they might very well decide to go with it if they couldn’t discover any other obvious reason. And Harry very much doubted they would. No one would guess that the Chamber of Secrets had physically been removed, after all.

Harry and Marvolo left the scene of their accidental crime to make their way back to the lawn, to herd the students into tents and make sure there were no problems with hundreds of teenagers suddenly being asked to act in an organized and orderly fashion.

“Harry!”

It seemed Harry’s young assistants had been lying in wait for him, because they all but jumped on Harry the moment he stepped outside the castle.

“They’re saying the whole castle collapsed,” Ron said, face stark-white in the darkness. Neville didn’t look much better.

“It was a sinkhole,” Marvolo said in his most reassuring tone.

“Stinkhole, stinkhole,” V cawed wisely.

“A sinkhole? Truly?” Hermione asked with a thoughtful frown. “I wouldn’t think the rock formations here in Scotland were suitable for sinkholes to form.”

Marvolo gave her a very brief but very annoyed look. “The castle was built over a thousand years ago. Who knows what’s been happening to the bedrock beneath it during that time.”

Biting her lip, Hermione looked torn for a moment before finally nodding. “I suppose that’s true.” Then she looked Marvolo over top to bottom. “Who are you exactly?”

Harry wanted to laugh at Marvolo’s affronted expression at being addressed in such a callous way. “Hermione, this is Marvolo Gaunt, my dear friend and neighbour. Marvolo, these are my friends Hermione, Ron and Neville.” Marvolo managed a polite nod, but barely, and Ron and Neville seemed unsure how to respond to an unknown adult while Hermione’s gaze was full of speculation.

“I’m sure they’ll fix the castle up in no time at all,” Harry said in order to break some of the tension. “School will probably reopen once the holidays are over.”

“I certainly hope so!” Hermione said, face creasing with obvious worry at the idea that Hogwarts wouldn’t reopen in time.

“If you two are interested in becoming Prefects next year,” Marvolo pointed out to Hermione and Neville. “I suggest you go help make sure the younger students of your House are all tucked away safely in their tents.”

“Of course,” Hermione said, springing into action at once, dragging Ron and Neville with her towards the tents.

“But I don’t want to be a Prefect,” Ron protested weakly, yet Hermione put him to work anyway.

While Harry and Marvolo crossed the lawn towards the tents, Harry leaned a little closer towards his companion. “After we are finished here, I need you to come with me to my castle.”

“Oh?” Marvolo said, face the picture of innocence save for his sly grin. “Whatever for?”

Harry wanted to jump the man right there and then, rip his clothes off and impale himself on the man’s hard cock, but there were people all around them and obviously now was not the right time. Something must have shown on his face because Marvolo’s smile only became more crooked. “Fuck,” Harry sighed in utter frustration.

“That certainly is an interesting proposition,” Marvolo said, smooth as butter. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

Harry gritted his teeth. He was seriously horny as fuck. That little snog and wank number they’d performed in the Chamber of Secrets had only been the aperitif, and Harry was absolutely starving for the main course.

The man beside him did things to Harry. Many exciting and arousing and filthy things. His magic was so deliciously dark, his sense of humour so dry and sarcastic and his looks were so handsome it should probably be against the law. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever been this attracted to another person. He’d spent the majority of his time these last few weeks in Marvolo’s company and yet he still wanted more and more.

It was like Marvolo was the world’s most delicious drug and Harry an eager addict.

As they assisted the staff and prefects in getting all the students settled Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off Marvolo. And Marvolo noticed, if his amused little smirks and heated stares were any indication.

“I do believe we’ve assisted enough by now,” Marvolo said after about an hour, just as Harry was ready to rip his clothes off right there and then.

“My castle,” Harry growled. “Now.”

Marvolo didn’t object one bit when Harry grabbed his elbow and steered him across the grounds towards the gates. The second they stepped outside the wards, Harry apparated them to the doorstep of his castle. He attacked Marvolo’s mouth with his own before he even pushed the door open.

They somehow managed to stumble inside while their mouths never stopped their feverish kissing. Harry yanked on Marvolo’s robes, pulling a few buttons loose, while Marvolo did the same to Harry’s attire. During their trek up the stone staircase they both lost their shirts and by the time they stepped inside Harry’s bedroom their trousers were opened and barely hanging onto their hips.

“Tell me what you want,” Marvolo whispered against Harry’s lips.

Harry inhaled a shuddering breath as he pulled back enough to stare into Marvolo’s brown eyes. They gleamed with desire, and Harry was very happy to see the evidence of Marvolo’s attraction to him. “I need you to fuck me,” Harry breathed as he gently bit Marvolo’s lower lip. “I need you to pin me to my bed and impale me with your cock and fuck me until I no longer know my own fucking name.”

Marvolo very briefly closed his eyes while he inhaled a deep breath. “That can certainly be arranged.”

Before Harry knew it, he was lying on his bed and Marvolo devested him of his shoes and the rest of his clothes with a few flicks of his wand.

Fuck, having Marvolo use magic to help fuck him somehow made the whole experience about ten times hotter.

Smirking, Marvolo cast a few silent spells that prepared Harry’s body for a good fucking. A cool brush of magic tickled Harry’s entrance before something slick filled him up. Harry lay back on the mattrass and opened his legs wide, bringing his knees to his chest and opening himself up for Marvolo.

“Fuck.” With a few flicks of his wand, Marvolo got rid of his own clothes and a second later he kneeled on the mattrass, hard cock in his hand.

“Yeah,” Harry whispered, his own cock hard and leaking small drops. “Fuck me right now.”

That was all the invitation Marvolo needed and he positioned his cock against Harry’s slick hole and pushed inside without pause, slowly at first but it didn’t take long before he was buried inside Harry’s body completely. It had been a while since Harry had been fucked like this so there was a bit of a burn and a sense of fullness. And then Marvolo moved and everything was just as it should be.

“Fuck, yeah, harder,” Harry groaned, curving his back and pulling Marvolo to him so he could devour his mouth. Marvolo managed to brush his tongue against Harry’s a few times, before he pulled back and placed his hands on either side of Harry’s shoulders so he could really give Harry a good fucking.

It was exactly what Harry needed, this kind of submission. Nothing relaxed him like letting someone else use him for pleasure for a while. His mind blissfully blanked out while his body reached new heights of pleasure with every thrust of Marvolo’s hips. Marvolo reached between them and fisted Harry’s cock and it did not take long at all before Harry’s climax hit him and he spurted long strings of semen across his chest.

Marvolo lasted a while longer, and he angled his thrusts to hit just the right spot inside Harry, which prolonged the pleasure of his recent orgasm until he literally couldn’t see straight anymore.

Marvolo came with a quiet groan as he crushed his lips to Harry’s, his body shaking and his hips bucking as he emptied himself deep inside Harry.

“Fucking hell,” Harry sighed while Marvolo slumped on top of him, skin warm and slick with sweat. “We’re doing that again. I seriously need you to fuck me every day from this point on.”

“Challenge accepted,” Marvolo said against Harry’s throat, causing them both to chuckle.

They stayed like that for a while, Harry stroking a hand up and down Marvolo’s back while Marvolo nuzzled Harry’s cheek and neck. Harry glanced up and saw V sitting in his usual spot on the headboard. Usually, V had all sorts of inappropriate objections he insisted on saying out loud when it came to Harry having sex. But now V kept his beak shut and even looked a little smug about the whole display before him.

Harry supposed that V couldn’t very well object to Harry having sex with a part of V himself. Well, the part that was housed in a human body, of course. V was Harry’s favourite companion, no question there, and while their bond was intimate it had never crossed that line.

But Marvolo was human and willing, and Harry had been absolutely honest when he told his lover he wanted to get fucked every single day. He seriously hoped Marvolo had been honest in his response as well. Then again, they had plenty of time to come to some arrangement that suited them both when it came to their relationship. Nothing needed to be decided for good at that very moment.

Eventually, Marvolo’s soft cock slipped from Harry’s body and he rolled off Harry with a satisfied sigh. Harry summoned the blankets with a wave of his hand and rolled onto his side so he could look at Marvolo.

“I’ll fuck you first thing in the morning.” Marvolo’s eyes were half-shut, his face utterly relaxed. He looked as sleepy as Harry felt.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Harry murmured, letting his own eyes fall shut. It had been a few very long days, weeks even, and during all that time Harry hadn’t felt as relaxed as he did now, so it was no surprise that sleep claimed him before he could say another word.

Loud banging woke him the next morning. Harry was so sleep drunk that it took him a while to understand what was happening. Marvolo lay in bed beside him, also blinking confused eyes as he woke up. His short, black hair was adorably tousled and there were creases on his cheek left there by his pillow. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off the man, suddenly overwhelmed with happiness they’d finally fucked and had thus progressed to that new level of their strange relationship.

Harry’s bedroom door banged open and in marched Sirius, clutching the Daily Prophet. “Harry, did you blow up Hogwarts?”

“Castle go boom, castle go boom!” V crowed in utter amusement.

Remus followed Sirius, and much to Harry’s sudden horror, James brought up the rear.

“I don’t even care,” Sirius said as he stood beside Harry’s bed and took in the scene before him. Clothes everywhere and two naked, very well-fucked men barely covered by a blanket sharing a bed. “I don’t even care you’re fucking Voldemort, Harry.” Sirius shook the paper in Harry’s mortified face. “What I do care about is Hogwarts. Did you seriously blow it up?”

“It was a sinkhole,” Marvolo muttered, burying his face in his pillow, determined to ignore their impromptu guests.

“Stinkhole, stinkhole!” V announced, hopping along the headboard.

Harry, in the meantime, couldn’t take his eyes off his father, who seemed equally shocked to see the scene before him. Honestly, this wasn’t the first time a member of Harry’s family had caught him in an intimate situation. That was bound to happen when your immediate family members were incorporeal and could float through walls.

It was, however, the first time one of Harry’s parents found him naked in bed with their murderer.

“Harry,” James said in a quiet voice. “Really.”

“Come on,” Harry objected weakly, filled with equal amounts of shame and anger. “This can’t be a surprise, not really.”

“I’m not surprised!” Sirius announced, and then shook the paper in Harry’s face again. “Hogwarts, Harry!”

Harry batted it away with an annoyed gesture.

“Honestly, I told them to wait for you to get up and not barge into your bedroom,” Remus said in a resigned tone, looking like a man who was used to advising his friends to not do things they ended up doing anyway.

Harry only had eyes for his father, though. “Dad,” he said, determined to sort this out, whatever it even was. He didn’t want to end up ignoring his family for weeks again because he was worried how they’d react to his recent life choices. “You already knew I was working with Marvolo. Was friends with him, even. So what does it matter that he shoved his cock up my arse repeatedly and we both enjoyed it.”

Sirius clapped both his hands over his ears at once, smacking himself in the face with the Daily Prophet. “Not listening!”

“Cock in arse, cock in arse,” V cawed, because that bloody thing liked nothing more than causing chaos where ever he went. And if it embarrassed Harry on top of wreaking havoc, V probably considered it a bonus.

James managed to deal with the explicit details better than Sirius, but not quite as good as Remus, who merely looked mildly amused while James still had a bit of a pinched look on his face. “It probably doesn’t matter,” James conceded with a little sigh, giving Harry a searching look. “I know you’re a grown man, and I know that you’re a good man. But please understand that this is very strange for us.”

“We spent years fighting him, Harry,” Remus added, sounding like he was choosing his words with care. “And while we know things are different now, that doesn’t make this any less bizarre.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, sitting up a bit more in bed. Beside him, Marvolo still had his face pressed into his pillow, eyes closed, but Harry was willing to bet a significant amount of gold he was carefully listening to every word that was being said. “I understand this is a strange situation for everyone. Just please try to accept that I am going to continue fucking Marvolo for as long as he’ll have me.”

“Cock in arse, cock in arse,” V helpfully supplied, squinting his eyes in amusement.

“Are you lot done?” Sirius asked while he glanced between everyone, carefully removing his hands from his ears. “Now about Hogwarts. Harry, what the fuck happened?”

“What makes you think I had anything to do with it?” Harry asked with a daring curve of his eyebrow before he wiped loose strands of hair from his face. His ponytail had not survived the night intact, it seemed.

Sirius gave him a look full of disbelief. “You go and steal a basilisk from Hogwarts and the next thing the whole castle collapsed.”

“It does all seem too much of a coincidence,” Remus agreed with an amused chuckle. “We got up to plenty of mischief in our Hogwarts days, but we never actually damaged the castle.”

“Except that one time,” James said, leaning towards his friends a little while a huge grin stretched out across his face. “But that was just the wall beside the entrance to the Slytherin common room and it never even collapsed.”

Harry shook his head and glanced down at Marvolo. He had hoped for a different kind of morning in bed with his brand new lover, but it seemed that the world around them had other plans. “Do you lot want to stay for breakfast? We’ll tell you what happened to the castle.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes, arms crossed over his chest, looking as though he was contemplating if Harry was trying to play some kind of prank. “Fine. But we expect all the details.”

Marvolo finally pushed himself up on an elbow and glared at their unexpected guests. “We’ll tell you everything if you go downstairs now and stay there until we join you.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Remus placed a calming hand on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Violet!” Harry called as he sat up on the edge of the bed. Violet appeared in front of him with a soft pop. “Bring tea for our guests in the library.”

“Eep!”

Sirius shuddered while he stared at Violet with wide eyes. “That will never not be creepy.”

“She can hear you,” Harry said with a pointed look at his house-elf.

“She is dead,” Sirius countered in a deadpan voice. “She has no feelings.”

Violet popped away again without giving any indication she’d understood one word about that conversation, so perhaps Sirius had a point. Still, Harry loved his little undead house-elves and he took it as a personal insult if someone talked badly about them.

“We will see you in a few moments,” Remus said, all but dragging Sirius with him out of the bedroom, James floating behind them. At least his father no longer looked at Harry as though he was terribly disappointed in his only child.

“I suggest we take this to the bathroom,” Marvolo murmured as he crawled up to Harry and placed a soft kiss on Harry’s bare shoulder. “That way I can fulfil my promise while we get clean at the same time.”

And that is exactly what they did. Harry much preferred to take warm baths, but he did have a large, walk-in shower, which they put to good use that morning. Marvolo fucked him under the warm spray, Harry leaning against the wall with one arm, almost completely bent over while Marvolo pounded into him. It was the perfect way to start the day, and Harry privately made plans to convince Marvolo to fuck him every morning for the rest of their lives.

By the Sun Goddess, Harry had it bad, hadn’t he?

Harry wasn’t even sure what he felt for Marvolo. He just knew that he enjoyed spending time with the man, loved talking with him, listening to his suggestions and stories. And now he knew that he also absolutely loved fucking the man.

They were so very well suited for each other, physically, magically and sexually. It kept surprising Harry every time he realized it. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who was so perfectly suited for him, and that was a very tantalizing realisation.

Afterwards, they stood in a wet embrace for a few long moments while they kissed with lazy strokes of their tongues, just basking in their new intimacy.

“You need to repeat this tonight,” Harry all but ordered as he shut off the water. His arse was a bit sore from all the recent attention, but they had salves for that, so Harry wasn’t worried.

“Your wish is my command,” Marvolo easily agreed with a lopsided smile that made him look even more handsome than he already was. Harry’s spent prick made a feeble attempt to rise again but had to admit defeat for the time being, no matter how attractive Marvolo was.

Harry got dressed in his usual attire and Marvolo slipped on his formal robes from the previous evening, even if they were missing a few buttons. Igor had collected them and placed them on the dresser sometime throughout the night, so Marvolo reattached them with a few simple spells.

They found their guests in the library, Remus paging through one of the English books Harry had recently bought, and Sirius and James speculating over what could have happened to their beloved castle.

“Cock in arse, cock in arse,” V announced, just because he could, as he flew inside the library and landed on his perch.

“Did you really just fuck again while we were waiting here?” Sirius demanded, setting his teacup down with a loud clang.

Harry snorted, not at all put out by Sirius’ attitude. He was used to people giving him shit. That’s what family did, after all, and Harry had a very large family, living and dead. “I thought you wanted details about Hogwarts, not about how Marvolo just gave me a good buggering in the shower.”

Sirius quickly held up a hand to wards off further details. “Yes, your point is made, Harry. Now what the hell happened?”

“Sylva didn’t want to move so we had to sweeten the deal,” Marvolo said as he sat down beside Harry at the table in the library, opposite Sirius and Remus.

“Violet, breakfast for four!”

“Eep!”

“Who the hell is Sylva?” Sirius asked with a suspicious frown while he squinted at Marvolo.

“The basilisk,” Harry said with a chuckle. “So I offered to move most of the Chamber of Secrets to Basilisk Island and then she accepted.”

Remus ran a hand across his face while Sirius stared at him in complete disbelief. “And it hadn’t occurred to you,” Remus said softly, slowly, “That removing a large underground part of the castle’s foundation would cause it to collapse.”

“Not at the time, no.” Harry sat back a little when Violet appeared with a tray filled with a large collection of dishes, from scrambled eggs to fried mushrooms and crispy bacon. “Afterwards, yes, I realized I should have been a bit more careful.”

“You almost destroyed a thousand year old castle,” Sirius said in obvious dismay. “Because you weren’t paying attention.”

Harry wisely kept his mouth shut about Marvolo having distracted him with a bit of a snog and wank moments before the collapse and instead he just shrugged.

“They’ll have the castle fixed up soon enough. They have magic, after all.” Marvolo gave Sirius a look as though he was a bit simple for not realizing that before adding some eggs to his plate.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius sighed in defeat and turned his attention to the plate of bacon. “What’s done is done, I suppose.” After he placed four rashers of bacon on his plate, he looked up at Harry with a expectant smile. “Before I forget. I was talking to Kashvi about promoting Broomstix and I have an idea.”

“Broomstix?” Harry asked after he swallowed a mouthful of buttered toast.

“The name of the broom shop you opened with her.” Now Sirius was giving Harry a look as though he doubted his intelligence.

“Ah.” Harry gave a careless shrug, not at all concerned with such details.

“Anyway, my idea is that we organize a broom race around the island,” Sirius said, obviously warming to the subject. “We can do it somewhere in January. Maybe even make it an annual thing. Since you have so many second-hand brooms for sale in the shop, you could rent those out for the race. That way people can see for themselves how well those brooms are made.”

Harry chewed more toast while he listened to Sirius ramble on. “Sure. You can organize it.”

Sirius gave Harry the kind of bright grin that suggested that any previous transgressions were already forgiven. “Consider it done.”

Just then, Igor came shuffling inside the library, hands full of mail. Harry sighed when his butler placed the stack beside his plate.

“That reminds me,” Remus said with an apologetic look. “Rachel asked me to tell you to stop by as soon as you’re able. She was quite put out to learn you had in fact created Basilisk Island, not tiger island. And Mildred wondered when the next town meeting will be, since you had promised they would take place every week.”

Harry sat back in his seat with a frustrated sigh. “I’ve got so much to do, I’m not even sure where to start next.”

“Get an assistant,” Remus suggested with a kind smile, since this wasn’t the first time Harry had bemoaned his workload.

Harry gestured at his favourite inferius. Igor stood to the side, dutifully waiting for his next command. “I have an assistant. Lots of assistants, if you count my inferi house-elf army.”

“A living assistant. One that can at least talk,” Marvolo said with a pointed look, apparently in complete agreement with Remus about Harry’s immediate needs.

Harry gave Marvolo a horrified look at the very thought of having to work day in day out with a living person in his own home.

Chapter Text

Chapter 36

To distract himself from the appalling idea of having to hire a living assistant, Harry pulled the newspaper closer while he finished his breakfast. The main article on the front page was all about the collapse of Hogwarts, with a huge picture of the rubble on the ground floor, but immediately below that was a moving picture of Harry and Marvolo helping students find their tents.

Harry Potter and friend keep Hogwarts students safe!

Snickering, Harry elbowed Marvolo and slid the newspaper in his direction. “At least we got some good press out of it.”

Marvolo peered down at the article and snorted. “And friend. Honestly. The way you’re looking at me in that photograph clearly shows we are so much more than friends.”

Harry studied the photo again and had to conclude that yes, in between showing students where to go, Harry was rather undressing Marvolo with his eyes. He laughed as he looked up, and then laughed louder when he noticed Sirius’ constipated expression as his godfather stared at him.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Sirius grumbled, pushing a fried egg around his plate with his fork. “I was going to suggest you invite your new fuckbuddy here to our Yule dinner tonight, but now I don’t think I will.”

Harry shut his mouth while he gave Sirius a confused look. “The what dinner where?”

“It’s Yule today,” Remus explained with far more patience than Sirius was willing to offer. “It’s traditional for family to come together for an elaborate meal. So, you and Marvolo are invited this evening at Black Manor.”

“We’ll be there,” Marvolo answered quickly, but Harry hardly saw reason to object to Marvolo deciding for him. Of course Harry was going to attend a family dinner his godfather was hosting.

“It’s just a few people,” Remus said as he went back to slicing up his bacon.

“Oh,” Harry said as he perked up in his chair. “Since it’s a day for family, I can invite my extended family to come over as well.”

Sirius looked surprisingly grateful at hearing that suggestion. “I’d love to properly catch up with Fleamont and Euphemia. And Lily, of course.”

“It’s a great idea,” James said with an approving smile. “I’m sure the family would enjoy mingling and catching up for an evening.”

“As for you hiring an assistant,” Remus said, much to Harry’s chagrin. “We’ve got a large batch of new residents coming in tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone wiling and capable to work as your new assistant.”

“Yeah, fine,” Harry sighed, realizing he might as well get that over with. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t want to spend time with the living. He liked the living well enough. It’s just that when it came to his own work, Harry simply preferred to do things his own way and he’d learned over the years that the dead were much easier to work with than the living. The dead didn’t ask annoying questions but simply followed whatever order you gave them. The living tended to need a lot more attention and such to keep them happy.

Honestly, working with the dead was just a lot more efficient, but even Harry could see that he was practically drowning in work and that there was only a lot more work on the horizon and he really needed help.

So living assistant it was, no matter how much Harry wished things were differently.

There was no denying that Magica was growing in record time, though. Back in Santika, when Harry had started developing Sildar, it had taken much, much longer for the country to grow to the size Magica was now. Partially because Harry had to go look for all the new inhabitants himself in person, and also partially because there were a lot fewer magical people in Santika to begin with when Harry just founded Sildar.

But here on earth they had no trouble finding magical people happily willing to relocate to a whole new magical country, which led to some truly impressive growth rates.

“Thanks for breakfast,” Remus said as he and Sirius got up after their meal was finished. “We’ll see you tonight.”

After their guests were gone, Marvolo also pushed his chair back. “I should head home as well.”

Harry gave him a wide-eyed stare. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Marvolo gave Harry a look full of open amusement. “I do have things to take care off, no matter how much I’d enjoy fucking you right here in the library.”

“Promises, promises,” Harry said with a chuckle, getting up from his seat as well.

“Tonight, after your family’s dinner.” Marvolo leaned closer and brushed a surprisingly soft kiss across Harry’s lips. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

“Looking forward to it,” Harry mumbled, and gave Marvolo another quick kiss before the other man pulled back. Harry watched him stroll out of the library while his chest filled with a sense of warmth and desire. Yeah, he really had it bad.

Once Harry was alone, he eyed the pile of mail Igor had left for him and heaved a deep sigh. He might as well get all his paperwork in order before hiring an assistant. It was probably also a good idea to update his to-do list and to write down what tasks he expected an assistant to perform for him.

Violet brought him a steaming pot of tea and Harry spent the next couple of hours sorting through his mail and planning his work for the next few weeks. He didn’t stop until his stomach informed him it was time for lunch. Violet served him one of her amazing pork pies, which Harry ate right at his desk in the library. V flew over from his perch and demanded some of it for himself, not that Harry could blame him. Those pork pies truly were delicious.

After lunch Harry decided to spend some time outside, to see how far along his house-elf inferi were with getting all the commodity crops sown, and how his own garden was coming along.

As Harry strolled around the castle, he saw the herd of thestrals in the distance. Keket stood amongst them while they all seemed to be waiting for something. Which turned out to be Masaru, who had come to deliver two cow carcasses for the beasts.

“Is it just me, or has the herd grown?” Harry asked once he reached Masaru.

“It’s not just you,” Masaru said with a laugh. “I’m counting at least ten new animals. There are also more hippogriffs on the other side of the island.”

“Are you able to find enough food for them?” Harry was surprised to see Keket joining the thestrals in ripping into the carcasses. As far as Harry knew, Keket much preferred to actually hunt instead of eating ready killed animals. But apparently she enjoyed socializing with the thestrals so much she had no problems joining them for mealtimes.

“Oh yes,” Masaru said with an agreeable smile, crossing his arms as he watched the animals feed. “There are plenty of downed cows, pigs and sheep to be found at muggle farms, and thankfully neither the thestrals or the hippogriffs are very picky.”

“I’ve had some people do a little research,” Harry said vaguely, not wanting to disclose that his main researchers were a trio of fourteen-year-olds. “And they’ve come up with a list of magical creatures they believe should be added to a new country. Think you can take care of that?”

“Since I’m the game-warden, according to you, I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Masaru said while giving Harry a pointed look. “Send me the list, I’ll see how far I can get.”

“Thanks.” Harry and Masaru spent another half hour chatting about the state of the island and the animals on it before they parted ways. Harry was very pleased to find huge stretches of land turned into ploughed fields sown with all the seeds Harry had provided. Soon enough they would be growing a huge amount of food, for both humans and animals, which would go a long way into making sure Magica would soon truly be self-sufficient. While Harry was sure that they’d be able to buy plenty of food from the UK and mainland Europe for many years to come, you never knew what the future would bring. And Harry much preferred to be as independent as possible.

After admiring the newly created acres and acres of farmland, Harry strolled back to his own property where he was happy to see his own garden starting to sprout. Slate seemed to do a good job looking after the chickens and pigs. The pregnant sow had given birth to eleven tiny little piglets, who seemed very happy to nestle down in the deep straw inside the hut. Harry planned to raise them all up, keep one or two sows to add to his breeding stock, and sell all the rest for meat. It would also add lots of pork to his own stores. And seeing how much Harry loved Violet’s pork pies, that was not a unnecessary luxury.

Once the sun got very close to setting, Harry made his way back inside his castle to slowly get ready for dinner at Black Manor. Violet cleaned and pressed his dress robes which he’d worn the previous night so he could wear them again.

“You’ve been quiet,” Harry commented while he washed his hands and face in the bathroom.

V sat on the counter beside the sink and tilted his head a few times while he stared up at Harry. “V wants to live, V wants to live.”

Harry frowned while he dried his face. He knew that V possessed human intelligence, but that his ability to speak was limited by his raven body. That’s why it was sometimes difficult to decipher what exactly V meant to say. “I wasn’t planning on roasting you for dinner, buddy,” Harry said with a chuckle, though he carefully gauged V’s response.

V bobbed his head a few times and clapped his beak in frustration. Yeah, whatever his companion wanted to say was very important to him. “V not want go back, V not want go back.”

Harry stared down at the raven while he brushed his hair, utterly confused what V meant. They had already decided they wouldn’t try to return to Santika.

“V is own self, V is own self.” V pecked at Harry’s hand, trying to get his point across.

“Oh.” Harry’s eyes widened when he finally understood what V was trying to say. “Oh!”

V tilted his head again as he gave Harry a searching look.

“Yeah, I don’t want to lose you, either, buddy.” Harry swallowed once he realized V had just opened a rather important can of worms, one Harry hadn’t even realized needed opening. V was a horcrux, a piece of Voldemort’s soul. V had been independent from the main soul for decades, more than a century and a half in fact. V was for all intents and purposes his own person nowadays.

But Marvolo wanted to become a true necromancer and learn how to walk the deathlands, and the only way he’d be able to do that was if he reunited his soul pieces inside of himself.

All of his soul pieces.

“Oh fuck,” Harry sighed as the implications of that finally registered in his mind.

“V no go back, V no go back,” V crowed urgently, hopping around the counter.

“Yeah, that’s a given,” Harry muttered, stroking a calming hand down the raven’s back. “You’re not going anywhere. Now I just have to figure out how to break the news to Marvolo he’s never going to become a necromancer.”

Dammit, and they’d just started fucking, too. Harry sighed and shook his head. If Marvolo took this the wrong way, it might very well be the end of Harry’s new relationship. That idea was surprisingly unpleasant and sent a sharp sting through his chest.

Well, nothing had happened just yet. Harry had learned over the years not to dwell on negative thoughts concerning events that hadn’t yet come to pass. Best to come up with a careful plan on how to break the news to Marvolo that wouldn’t have his brand-new lover abandon him over it.

“Good, good,” V crowed, head held high. He looked much happier again, much to Harry’s relief.

As strange as it may be, outside of his children and grandchildren, V was the most important individual in Harry’s long life, more important even than Keket. Harry loved Keket, he really did, but Keket was a much more independent soul who enjoyed staying behind on Sildar whenever Harry travelled to find now magical people. V hadn’t left Harry’s side for more than a few hours in a century and a half. He’d been there for every moment of Harry’s life ever since the Figures had created him. That ensured that their bond went beyond intimate.

Yeah, no matter the consequences, V was staying by Harry’s side and that was that.

Just as Harry was finished dressing a knock sounded through the entrance hall. Marvolo was wearing different robes that evening, ones not quite as fancy as yesterday’s had been.

Harry shrugged when Marvolo looked him up and down. “It’s the same robes or my usual attire. I’ve got nothing else to wear.”

Marvolo shook his head and grabbed the front of Harry’s robes to haul him in for a long, slightly filthy kiss that promised all sorts of delicious things that made Harry want to call off the whole dinner so Marvolo could simply spend the whole evening fucking him.

Tempting. Very tempting. But thankfully, Harry had more self-control than that. Not much, but enough. Barely.

Dinner at Black Manor was a pleasant affair, as it usually was. Regulus had invited Barty, Remus was there with Rachel, and Sirius seemed to harbour a bit of a crush on Kashvi, who was there as his personal guests. And Harry made sure all his family members joined them for drinks in the drawing room after they’d finished their excellent three-course meal.

Auntie Eustice sidled up to Harry the first chance she got. “James told me you two have become lovers,” she said in an urgent whisper. “Well done, nephew. Make sure you get him to show you his personal library. Not the one he keeps in his mansion, but the one in his safehouse back in Britain.” Auntie Eustice made a face that conveyed an enormous amount of pleasure and desire. “It is truly magnificent. Since you let him in your bed, he owes you that much.”

“Thanks, Auntie,” Harry said, feeling more than a little amused at Auntie Eustice’s priorities. Though he was genuinely curious about Marvolo’s personal library, he couldn’t mention that topic without giving away he’d had his great-aunt spy on Marvolo. And that was a secret Harry wasn’t willing to share just yet.

Kashvi approached him next. “She’s not a ghost, is she?”

Harry shrugged and offered his business partner a sly smile. “I never said she was.”

Frowning, Kashvi looked like she wanted to argue for a moment until she heaved a deep sigh. “All right, so you didn’t. But how is she here then? She’s a great teacher and I’m learning lots, so it’s not that.”

“You must have heard the rumours about me,” Harry said quietly while he sipped his glass of wine. Marvolo was speaking with Barty and Regulus while Sirius and Remus were surrounded by dead Potters. Rachel stood slightly to the side, looking like she wasn’t sure how to act with so many transparent, floating people in the room.

“Sure, I’ve heard plenty of rumours,” Kashvi said with a shrug. “But I’d like the truth.”

“I’m a necromancer,” Harry said easily, since there was no reason to censor that information while they were in Magica. “I can summon souls. My family has been with me since I was a child.”

“Wow.” Kashvi looked very impressed for a few moments before a wave of melancholia passed across her face. “Can you summon anyone?”

“Who would you like to speak to?” Harry asked, knowing exactly where this was going. He didn’t mind summoning loved ones for people once in a while, but he always made sure they knew it was a one time deal. It cost Harry energy to keep souls in the plane of the living and he couldn’t be expected to keep everyone’s loved ones anchored at all times. It would wear him out, plain and simple.

“My grandmother,” Kashvi said with an obvious lump in her throat, her voice trembling. “She all but raised me as my parents worked and she died unexpectedly when I was at Hogwarts.”

“I’ll summon her for this evening only,” Harry said in a firm voice that brooked no argument.

“That’s more than I ever thought I’d get with her,” Kashvi mumbled.

“What’s her name?”

“Prisha Anand.”

Harry briefly touched Kashvi’s arm before he brushed his thumb across his amulet. If you had a loved one nearby the dead were usually more than willing to come for a visit. In moments an older woman in a sari appeared before them, her long, grey hair tied in a bun.

“Daadee ma.” Kashvi pressed both hands over her mouth while she burst into tears.

Harry left her to it, knowing Kashvi didn’t need an audience for the next couple of hours. He joined Rachel, who’d been watching him with wide eyes while he summoned a soul right there and then.

“How powerful are you?” Rachel said in a hushed voice while Harry stopped beside her.

“Is there a way to measure such things?” Harry wondered, sipping his wine.

Rachel remained quiet for a few moments as she pondered that question. “Perhaps not, but I sure as hell cannot summon souls.”

“Because you’re not a necromancer,” Harry said easily while giving Rachel a cheeky grin. “If you learned that sort of magic, you’d be able to summon souls as well. Simple as that.”

“Hm.” Rachel seemed a bit unconvinced but let the matter drop. “So where is my island for saving the tiger?”

Harry laughed and downed his glass of wine. “It’s on my to-do list, I swear. I’m getting an assistant tomorrow, so that should free me up some.”

“Thank fuck,” Rachel said in a heartfelt tone. “Remus and I have been saying for weeks that you’re overworking yourself.” Rachel gave him a calculating look. “I have an old classmate moving here tomorrow.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow in response.

“Elmer Branch.” Rachel got a look on her face as though she was pulling an epic prank. “He’s very… passionate. He’d be perfect.”

“I’ll keep him in mind,” Harry said vaguely, not liking that sly smile on Rachel’s face one bit. They went back to staring at Kashvi’s reunion with her grandmother, which seemed to go splendidly. Kashvi was telling all sorts of things with wide gestures of her hands while her grandmother looked on in fond indulgence. Kashvi even introduced Auntie Eustice to her grandmother, who seemed filled with pride that an enchantress like Auntie Eustice had taken on Kashvi as her apprentice.

Rachel had a look of longing on her face so Harry leaned a little closer and asked her, “Is there someone you’d like to talk to?”

Rachel swallowed once, twice before shaking her head. “There is, but not here.”

“I can summon someone for you at any time. Just let me know.” Harry figured that Rachel, who put up with so much of Harry’s distracted planning, deserved to see a dead loved one at the very least.

“Sure,” Rachel said with a small nod, unable to take her eyes off Kashvi and her familial reunion.

The evening went on for an hour more before people started leaving. Barty had to go, since Moody could only disappear for so long, and Kashvi had to open the shop the next morning so she couldn’t stay either, much to Sirius’ obvious disappointment. Rachel, however, didn’t go anywhere, Harry noted with a smile. Go Remus.

Marvolo walked Harry home through the darkness. At least there was a cobbled road to follow so they made it back without any problems. Their entry into Harry’s castle wasn’t quite as frantic and heated as the previous night, but they still couldn’t keep their hands and their lips to themselves as they stumbled up the stairs.

Once they were naked inside Harry’s bedroom and Harry threw himself backwards onto his bed, Marvolo crawled over him and brushed a fingertip across Harry’s entrance. Harry couldn’t hold back a slight wince.

“You silly man,” Marvolo said while shaking his head. He aimed his wand and cast a quick healing charm which took care of the problem at once, Harry was happy to note. “I don’t actually get off on causing others pain, no matter what some people might think of me.”

“Glad to hear that,” Harry said with a grin, relaxing against the sheets now that the important parts of his body were good as new. “I don’t get off on any of that, either. I just prefer to get a good fucking.”

“Well, that can certainly be arranged,” Marvolo replied with a bit of a leer, and then no more words were said for a good, long while as Marvolo gave Harry exactly what he wanted.

Afterwards, as they lay side by side, catching their breaths, Harry contemplated telling Marvolo about his inability to become a necromancer, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to ruin the relaxed, peaceful mood, plus he wasn’t quite sure yet how to explain things exactly. Perhaps he should break the news in stages. Harry wanted to consider his options for a while longer before potentially ruining his growing relationship with his new lover.

The next morning they received no surprise visitors, thankfully, and Marvolo was more than happy to repeat his performance of the previous night, much to Harry’s delight. They shared a quick shower, followed by a quick breakfast in the kitchen, since Harry had to hurry to Town Hall. A large batch of new residents was coming in and Harry had to select a new assistant.

With promises to meet him for dinner at Gaunt Mansion, Harry waved Marvolo off before he flew to Spellbridge. Without a broom. V cackled the whole way, even though Harry showed much improvement and could almost fly in a straight line.

Once Harry stepped inside Town Hall, he noticed the piles of papers on the desks that Remus had set up. Remus was reading through a list of new addresses Sebastian, their head of the construction crew, had dropped off, muttering as he made notes on the long list of new inhabitants they expected that day.

“Looks like I’m not the only one in need of an assistant,” Harry said with an amused chuckle.

Remus looked up at him in surprise. “Harry. Morning. And I can still manage.” Remus shuffled some papers and released a short sigh. “For now. If we get many more inhabitants in a single day I might very well need help, though.”

Harry thought about that as he sat down beside one of the desks. “Perhaps we should have a meeting, with all the officials working for Magica. So we can see how everyone is doing and what everyone’s needs are.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Remus said, just as the sound of a portkey arriving outside announced their first new citizens.

“I’ll put it on the agenda of my new assistant,” Harry said, winking at Remus before he focused his attention on welcoming the man who stepped through the door.

They received a lot of new people that day, but a few stood out for various reasons.

There was a pair of young muggleborn sisters, one three years older than the other, who were interested in opening a lunchroom and tea shop.

“We love tea,” Cecelia Flowers said, the older of the two. “And we love cooking simple dishes.”

“We can sell an assortment of teas from around the world,” her sister Briony agreed. “And serve soup and sandwiches alongside it.”

“We’d love to have you,” Harry said and hooked them up with a storefront, one of the last ones available in town square. There were still plenty of them available in the adjacent shopping street, so any future entrepreneurs had lots of space to choose from.

There was also a recently divorced muggleborn witch in her forties with two children in Hogwarts. “I’m a hairdresser. I went to school for that in the muggle world after I couldn’t get a job in the wizarding world.”

“We don’t have a hair salon yet,” Remus said with a welcoming smile.

Libby Patterson got the last storefront in town square, so she could open her own hair salon, much to her obvious pleasure.

There was also a muggleborn wizard and his obviously pregnant squib wife, both in their late twenties. “Logan and Fern Sadler-Black,” the woman said politely.

“I’m sorry, did you say Black?” Remus asked as he looked up in surprise while he was writing down their names.

Fern Sadler-Black gave Remus a bit of a suspicious look. “Granddaughter of Marius Black, in fact.”

“Now that is a familiar name. My friend Sirius Black is related to Marius. He’d be happy to meet you, I’m sure,” Remus explained eagerly.

Logan Sadler got a very confused look on his face. “Isn’t Sirius Black dead? Executed by the ministry?”

“Long story,” Harry offered with a solemn nod. “He’s alive and well and innocent.”

Logan and Fern shared a bewildered look between them but seemed at least willing to just go with the flow, at least for now. When Remus asked them what they had in mind for careers, they both immediately warmed to the subject.

“We were thinking of opening a muggle specialities store, if that’s allowed,” Fern said while Logan nodded along. “Sell muggle wares, like magazines and board games and specific muggle foods that people who’ve grown up in the muggle world might like to buy.”

Remus gave Harry a questioning look, so Harry shrugged in response. “I don’t see any problems with that. You’re welcome to start such a store.”

“Thank you!” Fern practically bounced on her feet while Logan signed an agreement to rent a storefront in the shopping street, which Harry decided to call High Street from then on, since that seemed an appropriate name for a such a location. The alley leading off High Street he dubbed Fantastic Alley, much to Remus’ amusement.

Next was Rachel’s friend Elmer Branch, a young, slightly portly man with bright blue hair and very large eyelashes. His eyelids were canary yellow.

“Oh my lord, you’re Harry Potter,” Elmer Branch all but shouted and then attempted to envelop Harry into a firm hug but V’s furious pecking kept him at bay. “I’ve heard so much about you while I was at Hogwarts, how you saved us all.”

Yeah, no, Harry wasn’t about to hire one of his adoring fans to become his new assistant, no matter how much he needed one. Remus looked quite constipated from trying not to laugh at Harry’s sudden discomfort.

“I cannot believe I get to meet you,” Elmer prattled on, waving his hand around, showing off very long and very colourful fingernails.

“What would you like to do for work?” Remus asked to spare Harry further embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m a nail artist.” Elmer wriggled his fingers, showing off those ridiculous nails again. Harry had never even heard of such a profession, but Remus seemed to take it all in stride as he nodded along with Elmer’s answers. “I would love to open my own nail salon, even though I might not get a lot of customers at first, but I’m sure I can convince plenty of my new neighbours that getting your nails done professionally is a human right. And I’d really like to open a proper store, since I’ve been doing this at my kitchen table for years now and I deserve better than that.”

By the time Elmer left, Harry’s ears were ringing and Remus laughed right in his face for a good minute.

The second to last arrivals put a smile right back on Harry’s face.

“Midge, Marge!” Harry jumped up from his seat to welcome his favourite hags. “I’ve created a storefront in Fantastic Alley just for you.”

“Is the rent still free?” Midge asked, squinty eyes narrowed.

“For you, always,” Harry said with a huge grin.

“That’s why we’re here,” Marge agreed.

“More will follow,” Midge said as Remus wrote down their information. “We’ve convinced most of Knockturn Alley to move here.”

Remus looked up in alarm, but Harry wasn’t worried in the slightest. “All are welcome here,” Harry told the sisters and he meant every word of that. Midge and Marge seemed most pleased as they trotted off to their new, free home from where they could sell their skins and pelts.

Right before their last new resident was to arrive, Harry gave Remus a hopeless look. “Not one proper candidate for an assistant.”

Remus smiled at him in sympathy just as the final portkey arrived.

The door opened very slowly and a short woman in her late twenties with long, straight white hair poked her head through, giving Harry and Remus a questioning look with her very large, blue eyes.

“Please come in.” Remus gestured at her to step inside, which she finally did. “You seem familiar,” Remus said as he picked up his quill. “Have we met before?”

The woman smiled, which made her seem a little unsure about life in general. “My older brother Xenophilius is quite famous. He runs his own newspaper. My name is Sabrina Lovegood.”

Remus frowned for a moment until he understood what Sabrina was talking about. “Ah, it’s called the Quibbler, right?”

“Yes,” Sabrina said, brushing a hand down her long, colourful skirt. “I’d like to start my own newspaper here in Magica, but the Nargles told me Harry needed help first, so here I am.” Sabrina gave Harry a wide-eyed look that seemed to see straight through him.

“I do need help,” Harry agreed, unsure how Sabrina even knew. Then again, she was the only potential candidate out of many new residents, so beggars couldn’t be choosers. “If you want the job as my new assistant, it’s yours.”

Sabrina stepped up to Harry, staring up at him with her slightly unnerving gaze. “Thank you. I don’t think you understand how much you’ve changed, about your own life, but also about all of ours.” Sabrina blinked her large eyes a few times. “And you should just tell him. He appreciates honesty more than anything, especially from you.”

Harry watched his new assistant turn her attention to Remus, to sort out her new accommodations, while his thoughts were in turmoil. He had been thinking about Marvolo and what to tell him quite a few times that day, and here Sabrina had hinted at knowing what Harry should do about it. Was she some kind of mind reader? She didn’t seem dangerous but harry vowed to keep a close eye on her nonetheless.

“I’ll come to your castle tomorrow after breakfast,” Sabrina announced after all her paperwork was taken care off. Before Harry could even reply she quietly slipped out of the door.

“Having her as your assistant should be interesting,” Remus said, proving he was a master of understatements.

“Weird witch, weird witch,” V agreed with a few bobs of his head.

Harry shrugged. “If she doesn’t work out, I’ll just hire someone else. See you later, Remus.” And with a wave goodbye, Harry left Town Hall, tired and hungry after a full day of welcoming new people to Magica. He couldn’t even be bothered to fly to Gaunt Mansion, so he apparated instead.

Marvolo welcomed him inside with a smile and a kiss, and at once something fell off Harry’s shoulders he hadn’t even noticed being there in the first place. Harry released a deep sigh and followed Marvolo to the dining room, where Dobby had a delicious meal of coq au vin waiting for them.

“They’ve started repairs at Hogwarts,” Marvolo said as they sat down opposite each other. Dobby served them both glasses of red wine, which Harry accepted gratefully. “Have you found a new assistant?”

“I have,” Harry said, taking a few long sips. “She’s weird.”

“Weird how? What’s her name?” Marvolo asked as he narrowed his eyes.

“Sabrina Lovegood. Her brother with an unpronounceable name runs some newspaper.”

Marvolo sat back in his chair and chuckled. “Ah, that kind of weird.”

Harry couldn’t quite join Marvolo in his amusement. “She seemed to know things she shouldn’t. She might be some kind of mind reader.”

That only made Marvolo chuckle louder. “I sincerely doubt that. Your Occlumency shields are magnificent, darling.” Then Marvolo frowned for a moment before giving Harry a considering look. “Though there are rumours that the Lovegood family is blessed with the Sight.”

“Huh.” Harry didn’t really believe in soothsayers and such, but Sabrina had seemed to genuinely know things she shouldn’t. “Whatever it is, I’ll keep a close eye on her.”

“That seems a good idea no matter who she is, if she is to work closely with you,” Marvolo easily agreed. They ate their excellent dinner and made small talk until their plates were empty. “If you don’t mind me saying, you seem a bit distracted,” Marvolo said while he refilled their wine glasses.

Harry had been a bit distracted because he couldn’t stop thinking about Sabrina’s advice. Perhaps he should just say it. “I’ve learned something I know is going to disappoint you,” Harry said, giving Marvolo a sympathetic smile.

Marvolo offered Harry a level look in return, face giving nothing away. “I’d rather just know what you have to tell me instead of you trying to wrap it up to ease any pain.”

Harry briefly ducked his head before he looked Marvolo right in the eyes. “I’ve learned that you cannot become a true necromancer.”

“And why ever not?” Marvolo sat up in his chair at once, wine forgotten in his hand. “I’ve been studying every text you’ve given me and I understand all the information, I assure you.”

Harry held up a hand to stop Marvolo from rattling off all his accomplishments so far. “I don’t doubt your intelligence,” Harry said softly. “It’s just that a person with a broken soul cannot walk the deathlands, and you can only become a necromancer once you’ve done so.”

Marvolo blinked once, twice. “Well. That is a disappointment.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 37

They remained quiet while they both sipped their wine. Harry understood Marvolo needed a few moments to come to terms with this news, though he sincerely doubted Marvolo would accept it without any sort of pushback. Marvolo was at heart an academic with a limitless sense of curiosity and the intelligence to master anything he set his mind to, so Harry expected some arguing soon to follow.

Marvolo set down his glass and leaned back in his chair, giving Harry a narrow-eyed stare. “What exactly would happen if I walked the deathlands as I am now?”

And there it was. Harry pursed his lips to hide his smile because he didn’t want to give Marvolo the wrong idea. “The demons would overpower you and you’d end up devoured, eventually turning into one of them.”

“Ah.” Marvolo briefly stared down at his empty plate to process that news. “And what if I returned the broken soul pieces to my main soul, would I be able to walk the deathlands then?”

“Yes,” Harry said and released a long, knowing sigh. “But you can’t return all your soul pieces.”

Marvolo blinked. “I am quite certain that I can, Harry. I know where they all are, and while the ritual to do so is quite painful, I’m willing to go through with it for the sake of becoming a true Necromancer. Afterwards, I can always create a few new horcruxes, as needed.”

Closing his eyes, Harry shook his head, hating what he was about to do. Crush Marvolo’s dreams, pretty much. “You can’t return all your broken soul pieces because one of them refuses to return to you.”

“I don’t understand,” Marvolo said slowly, carefully, while giving Harry a searching look.

Eyes still closed, Harry waved in the direction of the perch on which V sat. “That one is particularly stubborn and he’s made it more than clear that he wishes to remain his own person.”

When no sound followed, Harry finally opened his eyes again and saw that Marvolo’s face was pale with shock as he stared at V in utter disbelief.

“Are you saying that your blasted bird is one of my horcruxes?” Marvolo managed to say, voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Yep,” Harry said with a resigned nod.

“Surprise, surprise,” V cawed while he hopped along the perch, black eyes narrowed as he stared at Marvolo. “No go back, no go back.”

“You will do as I say!” Marvolo snarled, face tight and lips drawn back.

“Won’t, won’t,” V cackled, beak clapping in defiance. “Never go back, never go back.”

“You are part of me, whether you like it or not, you ridiculous ball of feathers.” Marvolo snapped his furious gaze towards Harry. “How did you even end up with him?”

“You did this,” Harry said as calmly as he could. He didn’t want to fight Marvolo over V’s right to his own existence, but he would if it came down to it. “The night you tried to kill me, a piece broke off your soul and attached itself to my scar. The first time I walked the deathlands, the Figures there turned V into a raven, probably so the horcrux wouldn’t end up possessing me like the locket did with Regulus. V has been his own person now for more than 150 years.”

“Well.” That was all Marvolo said for a good, long while as he looked between V and his defiant stare and Harry and his nervous expression. “You care for him,” Marvolo finally concluded.

“I love him, yes,” Harry confessed easily enough. He didn’t see why he shouldn’t. “He’s essentially my best friend, and he’s been by my side for a century and a half. I would miss him a great deal if he was gone.”

Marvolo nodded in understanding. “How long have you known it was a piece of my soul in the first place?”

“Not right away, but not that long after V became a raven I figured it out. Kept it to myself, though. The fewer people who know, the better. I’ve always told everyone V was a gift from the Figures, which is true enough.”

“Yes, it’s probably a good idea to keep his true identity a very well-kept secret.” Marvolo tilted his head as he observed Harry. His previous anger was gone now, Harry was glad to note. “What would happen if I reunited all my soul pieces, except V’s, and then walked the deathlands with V on my shoulder?”

“Huh.” Harry sat up in surprise, not having considered that as a possibility before.

“Good idea, good idea,” V cawed, also sounding far less furious than he had before.

“I suppose that could work,” Harry mused as he ran all the possibilities through his mind. “Your soul should be as intact as possible, but having one tiny sliver of it as a separate entity won’t cause much of a problem, I’m sure.”

“Well then,” Marvolo said with a growing smile. “Let’s do that.”

V quick flew over to land on Harry’s shoulder, rubbing is beak affectionately against his cheek. “V stay, V stay.”

“Yeah, I’m glad you are, buddy,” Harry said with a happy little sigh as he scratched V’s chin with two fingers.

“This does explain why you were so eager to work with me,” Marvolo said quietly as he observed them with a tilt of his head. “I had wondered.”

Harry chuckled. “You must have thought me an ignorant little fool.”

“At first I did, yes,” Marvolo agreed easily enough. “But then I got to know you and realized you’re many things, but a fool isn’t one of them.”

Harry smiled at his lover, extraordinarily happy that they’d come up with a solution that would let Harry keep his best friend by his side, while Marvolo still had a chance to become a true necromancer. “Speaking about the ritual that reunites your soul pieces, I’m sure I can do that for you without causing you so much pain.”

Marvolo leaned back in his chair when Dobby popped into the room to take away their empty plates. He replaced them with little plates of baklava and cups of steaming coffee.

Harry dug into his dessert while Marvolo continued to observe him. “Have you done this before?” Marvolo asked, finally picking up his own fork to start on his dessert.

“All soul magic comes naturally to me,” Harry explained in between bites. That baklava was remarkably delicious. “And a soul wants to be complete. Splitting it is an unnatural process, so reuniting it won’t be much of a problem.” Harry refrained from saying how horribly broken Marvolo’s soul looked. No reason to upset the man more than he’d already been that evening.

“Then I’d be happy to let you perform the ritual,” Marvolo said, and took a big bite of his baklava. He moaned as he chewed and certain parts of Harry’s body stirred as he remembered that Marvolo made a sound very close to it just before he climaxed. “When can you do it?”

“Er…” Harry swallowed. “Anytime. As soon as you have all the pieces at hand. We’ll just use my ritual room.”

They finished their dessert, and afterwards Harry made it clear he wanted a different kind of dessert, which Marvolo was more than happy to offer him.

Harry woke up the next morning, well-fucked and well-rested, to find a woman standing in Marvolo’s bedroom, staring at him with wide blue eyes.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good morning, Harry. I’ve come to give you my daily report.” Sabrina Lovegood held up a scroll and started reading from it.

Marvolo stirred awake, took one look at the woman and pulled his wand out from under his pillow. “How the fuck did you get in here?” Marvolo demanded while Harry stared at his new assistant in utter disbelief.

V sat on the headboard, clapping his beak at the witch in clear warning. “Weird witch, weird witch.”

“Dobby let me in. He’s very kind.” Sabrina didn’t even bother looking up from the scroll in her hand, entirely unfazed to have a Dark Lord aiming a wand at her. “I’ve gone through your mail, and left any important pieces on your desk. The rest I threw in the fireplace. Lots of it was cursed. I’ve also booked Town Hall for Sirius’ Animagus meetings. We have it available every Wednesday evening from seven to eight.”

“Sirius’ what?” Harry asked, pushing himself up in a sitting position while he wondered if this was some utterly bizarre dream.

“I’ve put an announcement on the notice board that Sirius will be teaching you to become an Animagus. There are lots of other people who’d also love to learn. Like me!” Sabrina gave Harry a very bright smile. “I’d love to be a butterfly. Or a parrot. Or a canary, one of those colourful ones. I do so love canaries. Do you think I’d make a good canary, Harry?”

Harry wasn’t even sure what the hell a canary looked like. “The best,” he said, because he wasn’t about to upset the weird witch in their bedroom.

Sabrina beamed at him before going back to her scroll. She had a huge quill made from a very flashy blue feather stuck behind her ear and she was wearing a necklace made from real, bright orange flowers. “I’ve also asked Violet to clear closet space so Tom can move his things into your bedroom at the castle.”

“Tom?” Harry asked in confusion while Marvolo sputtered in quiet outrage beside him.

Sabrina blinked confused eyes at them. “Oh, you don’t call him that yet? My mistake. I’ve also booked Town Hall for this evening and sent out owls for the meeting with the officials. You need to talk to them, Harry. Magica is a lovely country, but it is very chaotic right now. Also, you’ll come up with a very important plan for our people’s future this evening, so please do attend the meeting.” Sabrina rolled up the scroll and gave Harry a quick nod. “That’s all for now. See you this evening. Right now I’m going to start on creating my own newspaper. I think I’ll call it The Daily Snitch.” Sabrina gave Harry an expectant look.

“That’s a lovely name,” Harry said automatically though his brain hardly had time to process anything Sabrina had just said to him. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Sabrina gave him another bright smile. “Dobby!” The elf popped into existence beside her and gave her a curious look. “Harry and Tom are ready for breakfast in bed now. See you tonight, chaps!” And with that, Sabrina twirled around, colourful skirt fanning out around her and she strolled out of the bedroom.

“What the fuck,” Marvolo muttered, finally lowering his wand. “What was that?”

“My new assistant,” Harry said with a snicker, now seeing the humour in the whole situation. “She’s very eager, apparently.”

Marvolo let himself fall back against the mattress just as Dobby popped back into the bedroom with a tray full of breakfast foods. They enjoyed their meal and afterwards they took turns blowing each other in the shower.

While they were drying off, Harry gave Marvolo a long look while he remembered one of the things Sabrina had just said. “You could, you know, if you wanted to.”

“Hm?” Marvolo moved towards the sink to brush his teeth. “Do what?”

“Move a few things over to my bedroom,” Harry said quietly, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy. “Or lots of things, whatever you want.”

Marvolo curved an eyebrow as he glanced at Harry, the toothbrush in his mouth keeping him from replying verbally.

“I mean, we already spend all our time together,” Harry said reasonably. “And our nights, too, of late. I like having you around. And you’ll still have the mansion here if you need some time to yourself.”

Marvolo rinsed his mouth and gave Harry a ridiculously fond smile. “I’ll send Dobby over later with my effects.”

“Okay,” Harry said, beaming at Marvolo. He was pretty sure they’d just decided to move in together. “I’ll have one of the house-elves add another desk to the library, so you can use it.”

“That would be much appreciated.” Marvolo grabbed Harry’s wrist and drew Harry close enough so he could kiss him. “I’m going to collect my horcruxes today. It shouldn’t take me more than a few hours. Might I borrow your invisibility cloak?”

“Sure,” Harry agreed in between kisses. “I’m going to inform Sirius he’s apparently teaching community Animagus lessons. I’m sure he’ll be very surprised.”

“I’m teaching what?” Sirius asked, looking very surprised indeed, when Harry told him the good news later that morning. Sirius sat on the couch in his favourite drawing room in Black Manor and stared up at Harry with wide, confused eyes.

“Animagus lessons for everyone.” Harry held up a hand when Sirius started sputtering. “Let me explain, please. You’re an excellent wizard who’s also an Animagus and you have a way with people. Lots of our citizens would love to learn this particular magic, so why not teach them? I want to learn, and Marvolo, and Sabrina. That’s three already.”

“Who the hell is Sabrina?” Sirius asked, looking even more confused.

“Sabrina Lovegood, my new assistant.” Harry sighed. “She’s… interesting, to put it mildly, but she did have a good point about these lessons.”

Sirius remained quiet for a few moments, rubbing a hand down his face. “Yeah, all right. Kashvi also mentioned she’d love to learn when I showed her my Animagus form. And both Reggie and Barty also want to learn.”

“See, that’s six!” Harry could hardly stand still out of sheer happiness. He did want to learn how to become an Animagus, because that was one of the few kinds of wizarding magic he hadn’t been able to learn from his family while living in Santika. He’d learned the theory easily enough but he’d lacked the proper potions ingredients to manage the actual transformation. Now he couldn’t wait to see what sort of animal he’d turn into. He was equally as curious about Marvolo’s future Animagus form.

“When was it?” Sirius asked with a grin, obviously amused by Harry’s enthusiasm.

“Every Wednesday from seven to eight at Town Hall. Oh, and we’re having a meeting there tonight as well, with all the officials. You’re mayor, so you should be there.”

Sirius perked up at hearing that, surprisingly. “We can finalize our plans for the annual broom race then. Excellent.”

Snorting, Harry shook his head and was about to leave when Remus entered the drawing room.

“Ah, Harry, I was hoping to talk to you,” Remus said, and he looked almost hesitant when he stopped beside Harry. “You mentioned perhaps hiring an assistant for me, at Town Hall…”

Harry immediately understood what was happening. Remus needed help but found it difficult to ask for it. Harry sympathized. A lot. “Say no more. Hire however many people you need, Remus. I’ll add them to the payroll.”

“Thank you,” Remus whispered with utmost sincerity. Harry quickly waved his gratitude away and said goodbye to his friends.

V gently pulled at Harry’s hair once they stepped outside Black Manor. “V’s still here, V’s still here.” And with that, V flapped his wings and took to the sky. Harry was right behind him as he launched himself up into the air. For the first time since Marvolo had taught him to fly, Harry managed to keep a straight line as he made his way back to his castle.

Harry was about to sit down for lunch an hour later when Marvolo stepped inside the kitchen, a silk bag in his hand that rattled as he walked towards the table. “Good, I’m starving.” Marvolo leaned over to give Harry a quick kiss before sitting down. Violet was there immediately with a plate filled with chicken and mushroom pie and a glass of white wine. While Marvolo took a generous bite, Harry poked at his own plate of pie while a warm, sappy feeling filled his chest. Marvolo had agreed to move in with Harry, hadn’t he? This was Harry’s future now. Life with a clever, handsome man who fulfilled all of Harry’s needs without much effort. It struck Harry suddenly that at that moment he was happier than he’d been for a very long time.

“Did you get all of them?” Harry finally asked, and took a bite of his lunch.

Marvolo nodded and swallowed. “Yes, I even visited Hogwarts.”

“Is that why you needed the invisibility cloak?” Harry guessed.

“That was the plan, yes. But as it turned out, there were so many people walking in and out of the school, working on the damage, that I could stroll right in. I simply pretended to be concerned for the future of the school and no one stopped me. Well, Barty did, but he has a role to play.”

Harry chuckled and took another bite of pie.

“How long will the ritual take?” Marvolo asked in between sips of wine.

“Probably half an hour or so. Not very long.”

“Can we do it after lunch then?” Marvolo looked at Harry with wide, hopeful eyes. “Now that I have decided on this path forward, I find myself eager to see the ritual completed.”

“Sure,” Harry agreed easily enough. He tried to seem nonchalant, but deep down inside Harry was also quite eager to put Marvolo’s soul back to rights. It had never sat well with him that Marvolo was so damaged at his very core.

After their excellent meal Marvolo followed Harry down to the ritual room in the basement. While Harry activated the correct runes around the room, Marvolo emptied the bag. He placed the locket, diadem, cup and ring on the floor and gave Harry an expectant look.

“Take off your shirt and lay down in the centre of the room,” Harry told him while he finished with the runes. The room charged quickly, the magic washing over Harry like a soft, cold breeze. Marvolo did as he was told and the moment he lay down Harry got to work on him. Slicing his own finger, Harry painted several runes all over Marvolo’s chest with his blood. Marvolo craned his neck to see what Harry was doing, but otherwise remained perfectly still.

“Right, that’s done.” Harry picked up the horcruxes and placed them on Marvolo’s chest. “This shouldn’t hurt too much, but it will be uncomfortable. Stay as still as you can.”

Marvolo nodded, eyes a little wide and face a little pale, but he seemed determined to see the whole thing through, no matter what price he had to pay.

Harry placed his hands on the ring, which seemed to house the biggest piece of soul out of all four items, and poured his magic into it. The soul piece felt slightly withered, even a little shrunken, as though it had dehydrated over its many years apart from its main piece. Harry’s magic perked it right up and it seemed eager enough to join its original body. Harry pushed it inside Marvolo easily enough, and the only response Marvolo gave was a small groan while he gritted his teeth. The rest of the horcruxes went much the same way, though the experience did seem to become more and more painful for Marvolo. By the time Harry pushed the final horcrux back into him, Marvolo cried out for a brief moment and then curled up on his side, eyes squeezed shut, arms tucked protectively against his own chest.

“Marvolo?” Harry asked softly as he kneeled at his lover’s side. “You okay?” Everything had gone perfectly, so Harry wondered what was bothering Marvolo so much.

“For fuck’s sake, call me Tom.”

Harry blinked and then tried to bite back a grin. At that moment Harry was absolutely sure that Sabrina had some sort of Sight. “All right. Tom. How are you feeling?”

“Like a fucking moron.” Tom still had his eyes squeezed shut but some of the tension left his body and he released a deep, deep sigh. “Like I’m the biggest fool on this whole entire planet. I should be thanking Lucius on bare knees for planting my diary on that poor girl. If I hadn’t absorbed that resurrected horcrux I’d still be utterly insane.”

It took Harry a moment to piece together what Tom was actually saying, but he got there in the end. “I never wanted to tell you, but your broken soul looked like a hellscape. I’m so, so glad you decided to fix it.”

“You and me both,” Tom muttered, and he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. His gaze was much the same as it had been before, but there was a certain lack of tension in his face now, as though for the first time in many decades he was able to finally relax. “Hi, I’m Tom Riddle and I regret to inform you that you’ve invited an enormous asshole to move in with you.”

“Hi, Tom.” Harry offered his lover a bright grin. “I’ve done some stupid things myself over the years, so I won’t judge you. Much. And as long as you keep fucking me like you have, you can stay.”

“Yeah, that won’t be a problem.” Tom’s eyes took on a heated gleam as he slowly pushed himself up with his hands. “In fact, I wouldn’t mind giving you a good buggering right now. It’s either that, or I go and curse something. Anything.”

Harry licked his lips and leaned over to kiss Tom. His lips felt the same, his tongue tasted the same, and yet it felt like Harry was finally kissing the real man that had always been hiding deep inside the body he’d gotten to know over the last few months. Tom was eager to return the kiss, his hand finding Harry’s hair to pull him closer still.

They didn’t speak as they kept kissing while they removed their clothing piece by piece. Harry ended up on his hands on knees with Tom kneeling behind him as he rammed his hard cock inside. Harry groaned at both the intrusion and the feeling of their heady magic swirling around them and engulfing them whole.

It was a short, hard fuck, which ended with Harry coming all over the floor and Tom falling on top of Harry’s back as he climaxed with a groan, but it was exactly what they needed.

“I’m still me,” Tom said later, as they lay side by side on the cold, stone floor, sweaty bodies cooling down. “I’ve not suddenly changed completely. But it’s as though a curtain has been pulled away and for the first time in decades I can see clearly again. Think clearly again.” Tom glanced at Harry while his fingers sought out Harry’s hand. He carefully laced their fingers together. “Thank you. I mean that. Thank you, Harry.”

Swallowing, Harry gave Tom a small nod. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re whole again. Do you still want to become a necromancer?”

The tight look Tom gave him was full of offense, making Harry chuckle. “Of course,” Tom said, in a snooty tone as though Harry had just asked him an utterly ridiculous question.

“Good. Then I’ve got a few more books for you to read, and we’ll have to start on the tattoos soon,” Harry said and looked at Tom with an expectant curve of his eyebrows. He wasn’t disappointed when Tom wrinkled his nose and gave Harry a questioning look.

“Are they really necessary?”

“Yes.” Harry’s voice was full of quiet amusement. Unwittingly, Harry’s mind went back to his time with Rylan, when Harry had received his tattoos in between bouts of vigorous fucking. “But just think how intimate it will be. Me bending over your naked body, closely inking your skin while brushing my body against yours.”

Tom at least started to look intrigued by that idea, much to Harry’s satisfaction. “Fine, I suppose we can try it out.”

“Not today, though,” Harry was quick to point out. “We have a meeting later, and we should take a shower and have a meal beforehand.” Frowning, Harry remembered something he was curious about. “What’s with the names, anyway? Why now Tom instead of Marvolo?”

Tom snorted and pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Tom is my name, plain and simple. Why on earth I thought Marvolo was a better option I’ll never understand. It was my maternal grandfather’s name, and while I never met the man in person, I did see memories of him in my uncle’s mind and Marvolo Gaunt was an utterly unpleasant man in every way possible.”

“People are still going to call you that,” Harry pointed out almost apologetically. “You’ve introduced yourself as Marvolo to far too many people.”

Tom sighed the long suffering sigh of the defeated. “Yes, I am aware. But as long as you just call me Tom, I can live with it.”

“Sure.” Harry sat up and pressed several long, lingering kisses to the back of Tom’s neck. “Tom. I am yours to command.”

“You’re just asking for it, aren’t you?” Tom glanced at Harry over his shoulder and before long they were making out again as if their lives depended on it. This time they ended up with Tom flat on his back and Harry riding his cock to the high heavens.

“We should really get going now,” Harry panted once they were finished. Tom chuckled beside him before getting to his feet with a tired groan. He reached out a hand and pulled Harry up as well. They showered, which involved only some snogging since they were pretty fucked out at that point, and afterwards they enjoyed an excellent meal of spaghetti Bolognese that Violet served them. V hopped from Harry’s shoulder to Tom’s, and surprisingly Tom didn’t even seem to mind when V pecked at his plate to have some dinner of his own.

They flew to Town Hall side by side, V following with excited caws. They weren’t the last ones to arrive, thankfully. Sirius, Remus, Regulus, Rachel and Sebastian were already there. Someone had conjured a large table with plenty of chairs around it, and there were pots of tea and coffee, plus a plate of biscuits, waiting for those who wanted some. Sabrina stepped through the door next, took one look at Tom and beamed at him. Tom merely nodded coolly in return but that didn’t seem to faze her in the slightest. Masaru was next with Leon Greengrass at his side. Harry wondered for a moment why Leon was even there until he remembered he’d put Leon in charge of all squib affairs, so that made him an official as well.

“Welcome, everyone,” Sabrina said while gesturing at the table. “Let’s start the meeting.”

Tom poured both himself and Harry cups of coffee while Harry sat down. Tom seated himself in the chair beside Harry, while Sabrina ended up on Harry’s other side. She put down various colourful quills and several scrolls and then looked around the table expectantly while everyone got settled.

“Are there any messages people want to share?” Sabrina asked.

Sebastian raised a hand. “The underground housing for the vampires is finished. Remus, you can get word to them that they can move in.”

“Excellent!” It didn’t faze Harry whatsoever that he was the only one at the table to express any kind of enthusiasm at hearing that news. Harry loved the vampires and he didn’t care one bit that he was the only one to do so. V cackled on his shoulder at everyone’s else uncomfortable reactions. Tom rolled his eyes but otherwise didn’t comment. Smart man.

Regulus was next. “I know I told you I could handle the work by myself,” he said, looking straight at Harry. “But with all the books you keep bringing me, it’s getting to be a bit much. I’ve found an excellent muggleborn volunteer and I’d like to offer her a salary. I’d be happy to pay it, since we’ve got more than enough gold.”

“I’m fine with the Spellbridge library being sponsored by the Black family fortune,” Harry said easily enough and around the table people nodded in agreement.

“I have a subject I’d like to discuss,” Rachel said in the sort of tone that suggested she’d been stewing on that particular subject at least for a few days already.

“Rachel,” Remus whispered, leaning closer to her. “Perhaps now is not the time.”

“Now is the perfect time, dear,” Rachel said, giving Remus a hard look in return. “Harry, during Yule dinner, you discussed how you encouraged people to have lots of children to populate Sildar, correct?”

“Yep,” Harry said with a mild frown, wondering where Rachel was going with this.

“I didn’t say anything at the time, because the subject caught me by surprise,” Rachel continued, now in a somewhat milder voice. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but female werewolves cannot give birth. We can conceive, but during our first full moon we will have a miscarriage. The transformation is too violent for the foetus to survive.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Harry said, and he meant that. He’d always genuinely loved being a parent and he could imagine how heart-breaking it would be if one couldn’t have children of their own while desiring to have them.

Tom shifted in his seat, his face the picture of intense concentration as his mind obviously went a mile a minute. “I’d be happy to take a closer look at this problem, to see if we cannot find a magical solution. A charm or a potion, perhaps.”

“Thank you,” Rachel said, and she released an obviously relieved sigh. “I was hoping someone would suggest that.”

Leon was next with a report on the squibs he’d approached to move to Magica, but Harry hardly heard a word he said. His mind for reasons he did not understand wandered back to that conversation at the Yule dinner table at Black Manor. Harry had finally told them how many children and grandchildren he’d had, much to everyone’s surprise. No one had apparently assumed Harry to be a parent at all.

Remus had jokingly suggested Harry should volunteer for a sperm bank, and after Kashvi then explained to a bewildered Harry what a sperm bank even was, they’d all had a good laugh.

But now Harry couldn’t stop thinking about the problem Rachel had mentioned. A good portion of the women on their island were infertile for all intents and purposes, which meant they wouldn’t be able to replace and add to the population. Yes, someone like Tom might discover a magical solution, but that could take years. Decades, even.

Then there was the problem of the muggles and their growing numbers.

Something clicked in Harry’s mind, so hard and fast, that he actually gasped out loud.

“Yes, Harry?” Sabrina said with a knowing glint in her eyes.

“The muggle sperm bank donors, they are anonymous, aren’t they?” Harry asked no one in particular.

Sirius snorted in amusement, but Masaru gave a thoughtful nod. “Yes. People can select for race and intelligence and personality traits, but generally they don’t know who the exact person is that donated the sperm.”

Harry’s grin was wide and sharp. “I just realized how we can grow our numbers. Not just here on Magica, but in the magical community as a whole.”

Tom leaned closer to Harry, impatience clear in his voice. “What’s your plan?”

Looking at him, Harry couldn’t stop chuckling. “We replace every donor’s sperm at every sperm bank in the world with sperm donated by a wizard. That would ensure an enormous increase in magical births.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 38

“What?” Rachel asked in utter disbelief while Sirius started laughing.

Tom turned in his seat to stare at Harry. This was an utterly brilliant plan, a simple way to raise their numbers. It was positively clever. Let the muggles raise magical offspring and by the time the offspring were old enough they could join Magica and build a magical life there. Much like a cuckoo laying its egg in another bird’s nest.

Absolutely brilliant.

And yet…and yet…this didn’t sit well with Tom.

“There are a number of ethical concerns to take into account,” Masaru said delicately, giving Harry a searching look.

“As long as you match the description of the donor the muggle parents selected with whatever magical seed you replace it with, it shouldn’t be too much of an ethical problem,” Leon said, looking rather amused by the whole thing.

“I’d do it,” Sirius said, still laughing. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Tom still wasn’t sure what was keeping him from agreeing with Harry’s plan. It had only been hours since he’d had almost all of his soul returned to him. The one remaining piece was currently sitting on Harry’s shoulder, clearly enjoying the sudden chaos in the room.

Tom hadn’t been lying when he told Harry that he was still the same man. He was without question. He was the same man who had initially split his own soul and then committed any number of crimes. Yet Tom felt as though the whole world had been tilted off its axle but Tom hadn’t noticed until Harry had pushed it the right way up again this afternoon. Suddenly everything made a lot more sense, as though all of Tom’s sensory receptors were turned back on to full force.

“But we would leave the kids with the muggle parents, right?” Rachel insisted, giving Harry a desperate look. “Because I am not comfortable with this at all.”

Harry made to say something, but Tom beat him to it. “Neither am I.”

Clearly shocked, Harry turned to look at Tom with wide eyes. “I thought you’d agree with my plan.”

“As did I,” Tom said with a rueful smile before addressing the whole table. “I do not mind the idea of donating sperm to raise the magical population. However, I was born of deception and I know first hand what an utterly vile thing that is to discover about yourself.”

“Oh,” Harry said a very small voice, obviously only hearing this for the first time now.

Tom ignored him. “The last thing we need is for there to be resentment amongst these magical children for the donors who wilfully deceived their muggle parents. Imagine in 20 years a small army of pissed off wizards and witches coming to extract vengeance on their muggle parents’ behalf.”

“That problem would be easily solved by just donating sperm as sperm donors,” Sebastian pointed out. “Without replacing anyone else’s sperm.”

“Exactly,” Tom said, now offering Harry a reassuring smile. “We’d still raise the magical population, but there would be no deception. I’d rest easier if we did it that way.”

“We would still need laws,” Regulus pointed out with a frown on his face. “Imagine in 20 years 10 of your offspring showing up all demanding a cut of your family’s fortune.”

“Fair enough,” Harry said, leaning back in his seat. “We need to start building our national government anyway. We’ve got a constitution, but we’ll need more laws implemented.”

“We can simply say that only children that have been recognized and registered by the parent or parents can inherit from them,” Sebastian suggested.

“Sure,” Rachel said quickly. “But if you’re going to purposefully make magical babies it might be nice to offer them something, even just as a token.”

“They already get free housing when they move here,” Leon said and then shrugged. “But we could create a law about the donor parents giving the child a small amount of gold should the child seek them out.”

“I’m certain many children would prefer not to know,” Remus added. “But for those who do, it would be polite to offer them something, certainly.”

“So we’re not kidnapping babies, right?” Rachel insisted, something of a panicked look on her face. “Because I’m not okay with that at all.”

“The children will grow up with their muggle parents just like any other muggleborn,” Tom quickly explained, a plan forming in his head the more he thought about the situation. “What we’ll do is keep a close eye on whenever a magical donation is used, make sure the kids are healthy and happy and then around their tenth birthday, or ten and a half, we’ll contact them before Hogwarts does and offer them a place at our magical school.”

“Which we still need to build, obviously,” Sebastian said with a chuckle.

“Sure, but we’re not in a hurry to get the school done,” Tom replied and then he looked around the table. More and more people nodded in agreement until everyone seemed to be on the same page.

“Well then, that’s settled,” Harry said with a huge grin. “We’ll ask for magical volunteers to become sperm donors around the world. I’ll be the first to sign up.”

Tom considered that for a moment. He had no desire to be a parent himself, but it might be nice to have more people of Slytherin’s bloodline around. More witches and wizards who spoke parseltongue, for one. Yes, Tom realized he wouldn’t mind that at all. “I’ll donate, too.”

“Three!” Sirius said while he raised his hand and waved. “My family’s blood is all but extinct these days, not to mention woefully inbred. Making babies with muggles would revitalize our entire family line.”

“Hm,” Regulus said while giving his brother a curious look. “That’s not a bad point, actually. I’ll donate as well.”

“Me, too,” Sebastian said with a positively feral grin. “I absolutely love the idea of there being a whole bunch of half-blood Parkinsons walking around before long. It would drive my fanatical family completely mad if they knew.”

“I have no desire to donate my sperm, but I know several squibs who might be,” Leon said, glancing around the table.

“That’s great,” Harry said quickly. “Squibs still have magic and I’m certain that down the line they can produce magical children just fine.”

“Yes,” Tom agreed. “And the more diversity in donations, the better. We’re already a very small, rather inbred community.”

Masaru was the last to raise his hand. “I have no desire to parent anyone myself, but I cannot help but enjoy the idea of my bloodline not being lost. I’ll donate as well.”

“Excellent,” Sabrina said with a bright smile as she glanced around the table. “We’ll need someone to organize it. A fertility officer.”

Tom briefly raised a hand. “I can do that for now, since my official title is International Ambassador, but there’s not yet been any demand for that.”

Sabrina gave him a calculating look. “That will work. But you should start on composing some statements soon for when we’re discovered.”

Shifting in his seat, Harry gave Sabrina a look full of concern. “How soon?”

“Quite soon,” Sabrina said with a small shrug, as though she wasn’t worried in the slightest. “So many people are joining the island, Harry, that it’s inevitable that the news of Magica reaches certain official ears before long.”

“Duly noted.” Harry glanced at Tom and they both shared a knowing look. They really needed to get the official parts of the country set up if discovery was imminent. “So that’s settled,” Harry said with an accomplished smile. “I’m going to focus on getting our national government up and running. Sirius, as mayor, I need you to take over my duty of welcoming the new residents. We’ll also both need to hire more staff to man the buildings.”

“Sure thing,” Sirius said, sitting up a little. “Now for a much more important announcement. I’m organizing the first Annual Broom Race!”

This was met with many sounds of approval around the table and they quickly set a date and discussed a few of the finer details.

As a final point they set a date for a new town meeting at Town Hall and then they called the meeting closed. A few of them walked across the square to have a pint at the pub to socialize. Tom wanted to join them since he well understood the importance of networking, but in truth he was exhausted.

“You go,” Tom whispered when Harry quirked an eyebrow at him and gestured at Sirius, Remus and Rachel disappearing inside the Irish Cock. “I’m too tired.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’d much rather stay with you, if you don’t mind.” Harry fell into step with him as they walked towards the residential neighbourhood. As per an unspoken agreement they kept walking instead of flying back home. Tom didn’t mind at all. The cold December air did wonders for his clouded mind and he felt rejuvenated more and more with every step they took.

“Want to talk about it?” Harry asked just as they left Spellbridge behind and entered the open meadows while they walked across the cobbled pathway. In the distance they saw the black outlines of several Highland coos in the darkness around them.

“Not much to say,” Tom said. There was no need to guess what Harry meant exactly. “My mother was desperate to get out of an abusive home and so she doused my muggle father with a love potion. Eventually she stopped and when my father came back to his senses he left her while she was pregnant with me. She died in childbirth and I grew up in a muggle orphanage.”

“Wow,” Harry said, a heavy frown on his face. “That is a crappy situation. I’d imagine you’d want to be angry with you mother, but you can’t really blame her for wanting out, and you’d want to be angry with your father but you can sort of understand his actions as well.”

“I killed him,” Tom said, because now that they were talking about this he was going to come clean entirely. To then hopefully never speak of it again. “My father and my grandparents.”

Harry blinked in surprise but he kept walking. “For any reason in particular or just because you were angry and that rage needed to go somewhere?”

Chuckling, Tom shook his head. “Something like that. I went to see them and they called me every name in the book. Bastard, parasite, and that I ruined my father’s life, that sort of thing.”

“Hm.” Harry nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I’d probably have lashed out as well in your shoes. When I was a kid I killed my fair share of people who had hurt me, so you won’t get any judgement from me.”

“I appreciate that,” Tom whispered.

“And I appreciate you telling me,” Harry said while he grabbed Tom’s hand and held on. It was a decidedly strange thing to do, walking with someone while holding their hand. Strange, but also kind of pleasant.

“We’ll need to start working on our defences more,” Harry said after they’d walked in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the dark, cold air around them.

“We can both add stronger wards to the whole island,” Tom offered.

“Sure. And I want to lay more inferi traps, like the couple I already made,” Harry added.

Tom slowed their pace a little while he squeezed Harry’s hand. “If you need inferi, I know where to get some. A lot of them, actually.”

Harry perked up and gave Tom a bright grin. “Do tell.”

“I don’t think I will.” Tom’s returning grin was full of mischief. “I think I’ll let that be a surprise. How about we go on a little excursion the day after tomorrow?”

“It’s a date,” Harry said quickly, all but bouncing on his feet at the idea of getting his hands on more inferi. Harry truly was one of a kind, Tom decided as they resumed their walk. So full of dark magic, so comfortable with death, yet also so obviously full of life and happiness. Harry was the perfect magical paradox and Tom loved everything about him.

Wait…

Had that thought just been real? Had Tom actually just thought that he loved Harry?

They had all but moved in together at this point, and they were running an entire country together for all intents and purposes, but love… that was something new entirely.

Tom honestly wasn’t sure if he’d ever loved anyone like this before. In a romantic kind of way. Once upon a time Tom had genuinely cared about his friends, and he’d certainly loved places like Hogwarts. But to love another person in a way that meant you wanted to share everything with them including the rest of your life?

Yes, that was very, very new. But not unwelcome, Tom decided. It just took some getting used to.

Harry’s castle appeared on the horizon after a while and Tom felt a flush of warm happiness in his chest. That was his home now, too. Their home. And fucking hell, getting his soul back truly did make him a sappy little bitch, didn’t it?

--------------

Harry woke the next morning without any godfathers or assistants appearing in his bedroom so he counted that as a win. Tom was still sound asleep, his face utterly relaxed as it was burrowed against his pillow.

Without making a sound, Harry snuck out of bed and opened his main wardrobe. There, beside his own simple clothing hung an assortment of fancy robes. Dobby really had moved Tom’s things here. At least all of his clothing, by the looks of it. A heady rush of something washed over Harry. This was quite new and exciting. Harry had never lived with someone else. He and Mal had a lifelong friends with benefits relationship and they’d raised four children together, but they’d never actually permanently shared an abode.

And now Tom had moved in and Harry was beside himself with joy.

“It’s real,” Tom said, his voice raspy but with obvious humour in it. “I really moved in. Can hardly believe it myself.”

Grinning, Harry all but jumped back onto the bed. “Good morning to you!”

“Good morning to you, too, my dear.” Tom stretched out against the mattrass, the blankets falling away and revealing his naked, hard chest. “I don’t think we’ve got time for this,” Tom said when he noticed Harry’s heated look. When Harry released a disappointed moan, Tom added, “The anticipation will make me fucking you tonight all the better.”

“Fair point.” Harry crawled a little closer and couldn’t resist pulling down the blankets a little further so he could press a kiss to Tom’s body just above his bellybutton. “And what’s so urgent then that we can’t have a nice morning fuck.”

Tom craned his neck so he could stare at Harry, one arm hooked behind his head. “I’d like to get that fertility business set up before we’re discovered, for one. And I’m going to tell Dobby he has to answer your front door from now on.”

Harry sat up at once, aghast. “You’ll put Igor out of a job! How dare you!”

“Bad Tom, bad Tom,” V agreed as he hopped along the headboard. “Save Igor, save Igor.”

Tom glared at the annoying bird. “You are not part of me, I refuse to believe it.”

“Believe, believe!” V clapped his beak while Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

“I’m going to save my favourite inferius.” Harry looked towards the bedroom door. “Igor! Draw me a bath!”

“Eurgh!”

Then Harry mock glared at Tom. “You can go and take a shower because you don’t appreciate Igor’s hard work.”

Tom chuckled at Harry’s dramatics. “So what are your plans for today?”

“Start a proper national government, I suppose,” Harry said with a faint shrug. “I’m sure Sabrina will have a list of shit to do. That’s why I hired her.” Then he glanced at Tom over his shoulder and gave him a saucy wink. “Just let me know when you want me to make a little… deposit. In fact, I expect a personal touch from you once I’m ready to make a donation.”

Tom snorted and pushed himself up as well. “We’ll put a bucket under you the next time I fuck you raw.”

Harry cackled as he finally got up. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered once he’d calmed down.

“So am I,” Tom replied and quickly pressed a kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth before moving to the bathroom.

They managed to keep it proper for the rest of their morning together. They enjoyed a quick breakfast in the kitchen of eggy bread and bacon with a fresh fruit salad on the side and then they parted ways. Just as Tom opened the front door to go to his mansion so he could work on his own projects, Sabrina stepped inside the castle with a bright smile on her face.

“Hi, Harry! Ready to create a government?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

They apparated to the newly constructed ministry building. On the front of the white marble façade the construction crew had carved: THE MINISTRY OF MAGICA. Harry was fine with that name, so he didn’t comment on it as they stepped inside. The interior was still very bare, with stone walls and no furniture, but at least there were clearly separated rooms and a public area with a few desks and such. It was a very nice and functional start, Harry was pleased to see.

“What first?” he asked as he glanced at his assistant.

Sabrina peered at the scroll she had in her hands. “First we figure out what departments we need.”

At this point Harry summoned most of his family members. “Hi, we need to create The Ministry of Magica and we need ideas for departments. Also, Tom and I moved in together, just for your information.”

James shared a quick glance with Lily. “Who the hell is Tom? I thought you were dating Marvolo.”

“That is Tom,” Harry said with a chuckle. “That’s his real name. He’s taking to using it again since I fixed his soul up.”

Fleamont sighed. “Perhaps it’s best if we simply do not ask.”

“Great idea,” Lily said quickly, looking like she was more than happy to drop the subject of her only son’s rather strange love life. “You’ll need a Department of Immigration, first of all.”

“Of course,” Harry agreed happily. “Remus can run that department. He is the Immigration Officer.”

“Department of Sports!” James all but shouted. “This country needs Quidditch, Harry.”

“Duly noted.”

“Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Patroclus said with a stern look. “Sooner or later people are going to mess up. They always do.”

Sabrina was scribbling away while Harry nodded along as they came up with department after department.

It was Auntie Eustice who made the final suggestion. “A tax department. You’ll need to start taxing people to pay for all of this, especially once you start staffing all the other departments.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Harry said with a little sigh. He knew he couldn’t keep paying people out of pocket forever and ever. Eventually the country needed to run on its own economy and the government needed its own income by way of taxes.

“I’ll post a wanted ad for Ministry personnel in the very first edition of The Daily Snitch,” Sabrina said with a generous smile. “Free of charge.”

“Thanks, that will help. We’ll also announce it during our town meeting at the end of the week.”

For the rest of the day, Sabrina kept Harry plenty busy with setting up plans and rules and laws for each department. Thankfully his family was there to help and their suggestions and advice helped enormously. They went to the Irish Cock for a quick lunch of bangers and mash, and afterwards they went back to work.

And Harry discovered that for all that Sabrina was one strange witch, she was bright and clever and a very hard worker. “Thank you,” Harry told her sincerely at the end of the day when they were ready to part ways. “You’ve been a lifesaver.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, Harry.” Sabrina beamed at him. “I have one request, though.”

“Anything.”

“My brother Xenophilius would like to move here as well. Could you move his home? He won’t leave it behind because he built it together with his late wife Pandora.” Sabrina got a sad look in her eyes and she blinked a few times while she seemed to collect herself.

“Sure, that’s no problem. Just put it on my agenda.” And with that, Harry apparated home. He found Tom in the library where Harry’s house-elves had placed a desk for him to work at.

“Hey, we’ve got a government in the making, I’m happy to announce,” Harry said as he strolled up to Tom.

Tom rubbed a tired hand across his face. “And I’m happy to announce that I’ve got a working plan for Operation Cuckoo.”

“That’s what we’re calling it?” Harry chuckled and then leaned over to press a kiss to Tom’s lips. “Love the name. Very fitting.”

“Yes, I thought so,” Tom said with a proud little smile. “I want to bring a few more people on board to run the whole scheme on a day to day basis.”

“That’s fine.” Harry laughed outright. “The people don’t know it yet, but they’ll have to start paying taxes soon.”

“As is expected in any country,” Tom said reasonably, reaching for Harry’s wrist and pulling him closer. “I owed you a little something, I believe.”

“Don’t be so humble,” Harry whispered with a teasing grin. “There’s nothing little about it. I’ve seen it up close for myself.”

“Always fuck, always fuck,” V chattered from his spot on his perch, giving them a disapproving glare. “Boring, boring.”

Tom fucking Harry over his desk was anything but boring, as it turned out. Harry enjoyed it thoroughly, and so did Tom if his groans of satisfaction were any indication.

“Aw,” Harry said later, as he cleaned up his release that he’d spurted all over Tom’s desk. “We forgot the bucket.” That earned him a slap against his bare arse. Worth it.

They enjoyed dinner in the kitchen. Violet had made them some chicken pot pie with a molten chocolate cake for dessert. Afterwards they spent some time in the library together, enjoying a bottle of wine while they discussed possible statements to give to the world once they were discovered.

The next morning Harry was practically bouncing out of his skin with excitement. Tom was going to show him something amazing to do with inferi and Harry honestly couldn’t wait. He all but inhaled his bowl of blueberry oatmeal and downed his cup of tea when it was still just a bit too hot, but he didn’t care.

Tom chuckled all the way out of the castle and then apparated them right onto a rock in the ocean.

“What the heck,” Harry said in bewilderment.

Ignoring him, Tom waved his wand around, adjusting the wards and then immediately apparated them both to the rocky cliffside, right above the waves. A closed off entrance stood in their way, but Tom opened that with a small donation of his own blood. As soon as the rock wall slid aside an entrance appeared that led deep into a dark, damp cave.

There they found an enormous lake, the surface as flat as a mirror.

“Nice atmosphere,” Harry commented, just as V clapped his beak and said, “Dead, dead. Many dead.”

Tom glanced at Harry, gave him an utterly mischievous smile and then tapped the surface of the water with the toe of his shoe, just once.

Immediately a grey, decaying hand broke the surface, followed by more and more hands and arms and heads with stringy, soaking hair covering sunken faces.

“Holy crap!” Harry said in sheer joy. “That’s a lot of inferi. How many are there?”

“A few hundred.” Tom stepped a little closer, waving his wand to keep the inferi under his control. “And they’re all yours.”

Harry gaped at Tom, his heart close to bursting out of his chest. Inexplicably, his eyes misted over a little. “This is without a doubt the most amazing gift anyone has ever given me. Man, I love you.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 39

Harry realized at once what he’d said and then he couldn’t think of anything else to say. They stared at each other for a long while as more and more decaying corpses hauled themselves out of the water and surrounded them.

“I… er…” Tom swallowed once, twice and then seemed to shake himself out of whatever stupor had come over him. “I have feelings for you, too. Very severe and real feelings.”

Harry bit his lip so he wouldn’t burst out in laughter. He was so, so glad to see that Tom was worse at this than he was.

“I’ve just never had those feelings before, for anyone,” Tom continued, voice pitching higher and higher the more he talked.

“So what you’re saying is that there’s feelings and they’re real and they’re freaking you out a little bit,” Harry summarized when Tom looked like he was on the verge of hyperventilation.

“Yes, exactly,” Tom eagerly agreed, seeming very relieved that Harry had understood his mindless rambling.

“Let’s stick with that for now.” Harry closed the small distance between them and gave Tom a sound kiss. “I meant what I said about this gift, though. Best gift ever.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Tom sounded uncharacteristically shy and quickly cleared his throat. “How are we going to get them to Magica?”

“I’ll open a portal to my yard and store them there while we dig some more bunkers around the island.” Harry raised his hands and felt for the magic that surrounded the inferi. “This is fascinating, how you’ve reanimated them,” Harry said with a huge smile, looking between Tom and the inferi and back. “It’s like you needed to travel from here to the entrance thirty feet away but you decided to take a detour past London, Antwerp and Paris first before arriving at your destination. The magic is sound, but there’s just a lot of unnecessary steps involved.”

“Dumb wizard, dumb wizard,” V crowed while chattering in Tom’s direction.

Tom waved both their comments away with a roll of his eyes. “Yes, yes. Soon enough I’ll learn to do it the right way.”

Harry got a portal opened in no time at all, and as the inferi stepped through it, Tom released command of each of them to Harry. It was a heady feeling, to suddenly have a few hundred inferi more in your power, but Harry resisted the urge to just bask in this delicious dark magic that bloomed inside of him. He kept focussed and after half an hour or so they’d emptied out the lake and stepped through the portal to Magica.

The bedraggled inferi stood spread out across Harry’s yard looking very out of place in the bright sun. The Thestrals were spread out amongst the corpses and it took Harry a moment to realize those fucking things were nibbling on his amazing gift.

“They’re eating the inferi!” Harry cried, running towards the nearest Thestral who had a whole decomposing hand in its mouth. “Shoo, shoo!”

V took to the air and cawed, “Bad mule, bad mule. Shoo, shoo!”

Meanwhile Tom stood bent over at the waist, laughing hysterically in a way that made it clear he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

“Keket!” Harry yelled at his oldest friend, who sat sniggering as she watched the show. “These fucking things are your subjects. They’re not allowed to eat the inferi. Do something!”

Keket did nothing but snigger more as Harry frantically ran between the thestrals, making furious motions with his hands to shoo them away. The thestrals flapped lazy wings in his direction, as though he was nothing more than a tiny annoyance and happily kept munching on the feast before them.

Two teenage boys were hovering on brooms above the whole spectacle and it took Harry a minute to even notice them. “Hey,” Harry called, craning his neck to stare up at them. “Can you help chase off the Thestrals? They’re eating my inferi and they’re not allowed.”

“I can’t even see those things,” the boy with the light blond hair shouted back.

“I can but I’d rather not get so close to those dead bodies,” the boy with the darker blond hair added.

Well, what fucking useless neighbours did Harry even have? Harry tried feebly to chase off a few more Thestrals to no avail, and then he was just done.

Harry stood stock still in the middle of the feasting Thestrals, grabbed hold of his wards with his magic and summarily ejected every single fucking Thestral from his property. The lot of them went flying, wings flapping frantically, knocking over inferi left and right.

Keket let out an affronted roar but Harry turned on her and pointed a finger at her. “Don’t complain now, Keket. I gave you a chance to fix the problem yourself.” Harry straightened his shoulders and gave Keket a pointed look. “You can still play with your friends, just not on my property.”

The whole herd of thestrals, almost fifty animals at this point, stood right at Harry’s ward line, staring at the damaged inferi with hungry, white eyes.

Tom had regained his composure, though he was still wiping at his eyes as he joined Harry. “Nice show of magic.”

“Thanks.” Harry beamed at him. “Let’s get those bunkers made quickly. Who knows what else on the island might want to eat our new security personnel.” He noticed that the teens were still hovering above his property. “Anyone we know?”

“That’s Draco Malfoy,” Tom whispered, and honestly, that much was obvious since Draco looked a great deal like both his parents. “And the other one is Theodorus Nott’s son, Theo.”

“I don’t like people staring as I work,” Harry muttered and then waved at the boys. “Hey! If you like, you can go race a dragon. His name is Rigel and he lives in the mountain.”

“A dragon?” Draco demanded, flying a little lower. “What kind of dragon?”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Theo asked with a worried frown.

“A Hungarian Horntail, and he’s very friendly, promise. Go look for yourselves.” Harry was stoked when the teens couldn’t resist the temptation of seeing a real live dragon and flew off. Sharing a knowing little smile with Tom, Harry clapped his hands together. “Let’s make some traps.”

They selected sites all around the island and dug bunkers into the bedrock, much like Harry had already done when he’d turned Greyback and his cronies into inferi to use as security for the island. They added eight to ten inferi per bunker and then closed the whole thing off. The inferi would stay there, slumbering, until Harry summoned them to the surface in case of an attack.

Every fifteen minutes or so for most of the afternoon they saw Rigel’s enormous body flying over, followed by two small dots yelling in sheer delight. V cawed obscenities at them but otherwise left them alone.

It took them most of the day to get it all done, but Harry would sleep better at night knowing they had some defences in place now. The next day Harry planned to start working on strengthening the wards.

As they flew home, Tom turned to Harry, the wind whipping around their faces. “Want to go to the pub tonight?”

“Sure,” Harry yelled back. “Any reason?”

“It’s New Year’s.” Tom hesitated for a moment and then added, “And it’s my birthday.”

Harry almost fell out of the sky from shock and it took him a few tries to regain his trajectory. V cackled like a mad thing as he flew circles around Harry. “It’s your birthday? Fucking hell, Tom, you should have said something. You got me an amazing gift and I got you nothing.”

“You did!” Tom yelled back, cheeks red from the cold wind. “You got me a home!”

Harry’s smile was terribly sappy and the moment they touched down in front of Harry’s castle, or rather their home, Harry hauled Tom in for a deep kiss. “Happy birthday,” Harry whispered against his lips. “Sorry I didn’t get you a proper present.”

“You’ve given me more than enough already,” Tom assured him and they went down to the kitchen where Violet had a lovely meal of roast chicken with mashed potatoes and creamed spinach waiting for them. Dobby presented Tom with a birthday cake after dinner, with a lot of burning candles which Tom blew out with determination.

They took a shower together, with only some quick shared hand jobs since they were in a hurry, and then flew to Spellbridge through the dark sky.

The Irish Cock was crowded, which was to be expected since it was New Year’s Eve. Harry and Tom found some empty seats at Sirius and Reggie’s table. Sirius was heavily flirting with Kashvi, but Regulus seemed to welcome their company.

“Barty had to stay at Hogwarts?” Harry guessed while Tom went to get them all some pints of Guinness.

Regulus nodded. “He couldn’t get away. I’ll see him in a few days.”

“Just a few more months,” Harry said with a kind smile. Tom had decided to keep Barty at Hogwarts for as long as the Tournament was still ongoing, just so he had someone on the ground to make adjustments as needed.

There were a handful of teenagers cramped in a corner, Draco and Theo amongst them. Harry realized the other kids must be the children of some of the muggleborns on the island. Hogwarts was closed for repairs so those kids were all home for the rest of the holidays at least.

Yeah, Harry realized with a sigh. There was no way they could keep Magica a secret for much longer with teens blabbing to their friends. Oh well. The secret had to come out at some point.

“Barty made a good point this morning when I talked to him through the mirror,” Reggie said, gratefully accepting a pint that Tom handed him. “We should get the paperwork to file for independent status with the ICW filled out and keep it ready to file the moment we’re discovered.”

“That is an excellent idea,” Tom said with an approving nod while Harry wondered why they hadn’t thought about that earlier. “We’ll get that taken care of as soon as possible.”

The bar door opened and Harry looked at it with half an eye, until he saw that it was Remus who entered, followed by some of Harry’s favourite people in the entire world.

The vampires had arrived.

“Hey!” Harry yelled, jumping up from his seat and waving frantically.

“Hey!” Daniella and Shiv yelled back while the rest grinned in ways that perfectly showed off their fangs.

“Oh fuck no,” Tom groaned and took a fortifying gulp of his Guinness.

Harry ignored him and went to greet his new friends who welcomed him with open arms and many excited tales of their new underground homes that Remus had just shown them.

Ernest and his chaps had brought their instruments and before long a rowdy tune filled the crowded pub and the atmosphere became even more festive and jolly.

Harry danced with a few of the vampires until his feet hurt and then he sat down with Tom again because he didn’t want his boyfriend to be alone on his birthday. And yeah, Tom was totally his boyfriend, Harry saw that now.

In fact, just an hour before midnight, as everyone was getting well into their cups, Harry climbed onto his chair and raised his glass. “Today’s my boyfriend’s birthday! Happy birthday, Tom! Next round’s on me!”

Ernest and the band immediately started playing Happy Birthday, naturally, and the whole pub joined in giving a vividly embarrassed Tom a drunken serenade.

“How’s that for a gift,” Harry said with a cackle while V was bouncing around on the table in sheer happiness at seeing Tom’s face turn red.

At midnight there was a deafening roar as everyone wished everyone else a happy new year and the band started playing a rowdy version of Land of Hope and Glory, followed by Rule Britannia, which the entire pub sang along with, even when they didn’t know the lyrics and soon enough people started changing Britannia to Magica, allowing for even more confusion. But at that point most people were too drunk to care, so much fun was had anyway.

Harry wasn’t sure how the hell they got home, but they woke up in their own bed the next morning and ultimately that’s all that mattered.

“Potion,” Harry croaked as he woke up with a pounding head and rolling stomach. “Dobby, potion!”

Dobby, that amazing elf, knew exactly what they needed and before long Harry and Tom downed a hangover potion each and were ready to face the day. A full English breakfast in bed energized them enough for a nice fuck in the shower and afterwards they decided to start on strengthening the wards. But first Tom sat down at his desk and wrote a request for the forms to declare an independent nation and then used Poppy, Harry’s eagle owl, to send it to the ICW in Geneve.

“I also have a very vague impulse to ask someone to compose a national anthem for Magica,” Harry muttered as they opened the front door so Poppy could take flight. “Though I haven’t a clue why.”

Tom chuckled as he followed Harry out of the castle. “We should really implement anti-apparition wards,” Tom suggested as they stepped out of the castle into the brisk January air. If it weren’t for Harry’s runes that kept the weather nice and stable it would most certainly have been freezing.

A small distance away the herd of Thestrals stood behind the invisible ward line, giving Harry’s property forlorn looks. Yeah, fuck those things. Harry still hadn’t forgiven them for eating his precious inferi. They could stay outside for now.

“Bad mule, bad mule,” V cawed as he tauntingly flew over their heads.

“How should we implement those wards?” Harry asked. He had some idea of his own on this subject, but he wanted to hear Tom’s opinion on this as well.

“Direct all international apparition and portkey travel to one point on the island where visitors have to check in,” Tom said as they stopped walking for a moment. “We can still allow apparition within Magica, so people can easily get around.”

“And out of it,” Harry quickly said. He didn’t want to have to move to one fixed point on the island every time he apparated to the UK or mainland Europe. “Let’s go talk to Sebastian.”

They found their Construction Officer at his home, just finishing up his breakfast.

“We need a terminal for international apparition and portkey travel,” Harry said by way of greeting. Thankfully Sebastian was the kind of man who didn’t expect people to mince words for him. “I’m thinking behind the Ministry building, there’s plenty of space there. New arrivals can register at once and easily move to the Ministry if they have business there.”

One of the departments Harry and his family had decided on was the Department of Housing and Financial Assistance. They would be taking care of all the details from then on that Remus had looked after up until that point.

“Sure thing,” Sebastian said with an easy nod. “We’ll get started on it first thing in the morning. Any requirements?”

“Just that it’s functional,” Harry said with a grateful smile. “I’ll leave the design up to you.”

With that out of the way, Harry and Tom got busy with the wards. Tom was an absolute genius when it came to warding, Harry soon found out. Tom was quick yet meticulous with inscribing the necessary runes all around the island’s shoreline. Harry copied him but he honestly got rather distracted more often than not from watching Tom work.

Around lunchtime Harry summoned Violet and asked her to prepare a simple picnic for them. She brought them a thermos of tea, hot sausage rolls and little pork pies. They sat on the rocks overlooking the ocean as they devoured their lunch, much hungrier than usual from working in the cold, salty air around them. V demanded a whole sausage roll for himself, which he tore into with vigour.

“You’re still you,” Harry said after all the food was gone and they were finishing their tea. “You’re mostly still the same bloke, but you’ve also changed since you got your soul back.”

“Have I?” Tom quirked an eyebrow at Harry. “How so?”

“You’re more relaxed, I think,” Harry said, giving Tom a good once over. “Less stuck up.”

Tom chuckled and gave Harry a very fond smile. “I suppose I am. Also less inclined to want to rule the entire world.”

“Just our own country,” Harry said knowingly.

“Exactly.” Tom leaned over to give Harry a soft kiss. “Running one country with you is more than enough to keep my megalomaniacal side satisfied.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon finishing up the wards and once they got home they enjoyed a simple dinner of shepherd’s pie, a welcome, hearty meal after long day of work in the outdoors. They headed to bed early, both exhausted. Harry didn’t even mind that there wasn’t any sex but instead they cuddled for a while as they both succumbed to sleep.

The next morning they were up fairly early and there was plenty of time for a delicious romp between the sheets. After a shower they had breakfast, in the kitchen as usual. Both Tom and Harry enjoyed the comfortable hominess of the kitchen over the impersonal dining room.

Dobby popped into the kitchen as they were enjoying their waffles with strawberries and whipped cream. “Master Tom be seeing this right away.” Dobby placed the rolled up Daily Prophet in front of Tom instead of leaving it on his desk like he usually did.

Tom placed down his fork, unrolled the newspaper and looked at the frontpage with a curious curve of his eyebrow.

“What?” Harry asked anxiously. Were they already discovered? If so, at least they got the wards up in time, though they hadn’t yet activated the anti-apparition wards. The terminal wasn’t built yet to receive people.

Tom chuckled and quickly gave Harry a reassuring look. “The British Ministry has finally figured out that Knockturn Alley has all but emptied. Even Ruben Lyon has disappeared. The bartender and owner of the White Wyvern, the pub in Knockturn Alley,” Tom explained when Harry looked at him with a blank stare.

“So we’re getting another pub,” Harry concluded with a happy little smile. Harry loved a good pint, so the more the merrier, as far as pubs were concerned.

“I’m sure Ruben is setting it up in Fantastic Alley as we speak,” Tom said, referring to the alley off High Street that Harry had created especially for the Knockturn Alley denizens. “Listen to this,” Tom said and started quoting the newspaper. “Minister Fudge was just as puzzled as everyone else we’ve spoken to about the disturbing disappearance of the Knockturn Alley occupants. ‘We have not rounded anyone up,’ Minister Fudge insisted when we asked him. ‘None of these people have been chucked in Azkaban, I promise you.’ But when asked what did happen to the Knockturn Alley natives, Minister Fudge had no answer.”

Harry laughed, long and hard, as he threw his head back. “So they’re still going with the rumour that the Ministry’s been illegally detaining every werewolf and hag they could find.”

“Apparently,” Tom said with an amused chuckle, reading the rest of the article with rapid movements of his brown eyes. “Here’s another great bit: We found one lone occupant in Knockturn Alley packing up her Apothecary business. She wished to remain anonymous but she was willing to tell us she was leaving for better pastures. ‘I’m going to the promised land,’ she said while giving us suspicious glares. ‘Not a single one of you lot has ever accepted us, except when it came time to charge us ridiculously high rent and income taxes. No more. I’m going to a much better place. Now get the hell out of my shop.’”

“Oh, so we’re getting an apothecary,” Harry said, pleased by that bit of news. “I’m sure they’ll do really great business with hangover potions.”

Tom snorted and gave Harry a bit of a tired look. “I’m sure they’ll do much more business than that. But fact remains that people are now aware that something is going on.”

“But not yet what exactly,” Harry insisted. “We’re just about ready to be discovered anyway.”

Tom got a thoughtful frown on his face as he closed the newspaper and picked up his cup of tea. “We’ve only really recruited from the UK so far,” Tom said slowly and took a sip of tea. “Which might give the British Ministry some sort of vague claim over Magica.” Tom quickly held up a hand when Harry looked ready to protest. “One easy way around this is to start recruiting from mainland Europe. Put out some feelers with the werewolves there, and the muggleborns and perhaps the Veela community as well.”

“Sure, we can do that.” Harry wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat back in his chair. “We’ve got the town meeting tonight, so we’ll bring it up.”

“Good idea.”

Just then Igor came shuffling into the kitchen, a letter in his hand, which he placed in front of Harry.

“Thank you, Igor,” Harry said loudly with a pointed glare at Tom. “See, just as valuable as a house-elf.”

“But far less talkative,” Tom couldn’t help but say, which earned him an eyeroll in return.

Harry opened the letter and read its contents. “It’s from Gringotts. They’ve decided they want to open up a branch of their bank here in Magica.” Harry gave Tom a huge grin. “Stormaxe is asking for an appointment with us to sign some contracts and such.”

“Excellent.” Tom leaned back in his chair and exchanged an extremely satisfied grin with Harry. “This will only give us more credibility with the ICW.”

“Igor, bring me an empty bottle of wine!” Harry told his butler who stood quietly by the door.

“Eurgh!”

Harry folded up the letter. “I’ll send Stormaxe a portkey and then we’ll give him the full tour of Magica.”

Dobby popped back into the kitchen and handed Tom another newspaper. “Master Tom is receiving two papers this morning.”

It was a copy of The Daily Snitch, Sabrina’s brand-new newspaper.

“What’s in it?” Harry craned his neck to try to read the front page and Tom held the newspaper at an angle so Harry could at least see most of it.

The front page held several announcements, about the Daily Snitch itself, but also about the Ministry of Magica’s search for personnel and about that evening’s town meeting.

“Sabrina’s sending everyone a free newspaper twice this week, but after that people are expected to get a subscription,” Tom said as he skimmed the second page of the paper.

“We’ll get one,” Harry said at once, though that hardly needed confirmation with a bibliophile like Tom. Of course Tom was getting a subscription.

Igor returned to give Harry an empty bottle, and on his heels was Sabrina, who gave them both a happy smile to see them reading her newspaper.

“It looks great!” Harry said, genuinely impressed she’d put it together in such a small timeframe.

“Thanks! I used my brother’s printing press and Mildred let me use the owls at the post office early this morning.” Sabrina was once again holding a scroll and unrolled it so she could study its contents. “I promised Xenophilius we’d move his house today, if that’s all right?”

“Sure, we can do that right away.” Harry pushed his chair back and got up.

“I’ll put the finishing touches on Project Cuckoo and get started on some statements for once we’re discovered,” Tom said, also getting up. He gave Harry a quick but heartfelt kiss and then disappeared into the library.

Xenophilius and his daughter Luna lived in a house that perfectly reflected the peculiarity of the whole family. Luna seemed like a kind and inquisitive young woman who gladly followed Harry and Sabrina around as they prepared the property for relocation.

“What sort of animals are there on your island?” Luna asked. She’d been asking questions about anything and everything.

“We’ve got a dragon,” Harry revealed dramatically.

“Oh.” Luna frowned and gave Harry a serious look. “How about crumple-horned snorkacks?”

Harry gave Sabrina a questioning look but Sabrina’s face gave nothing away. “We don’t have them yet, but we might get them in the future. You should speak with Masaru, he’s our Game Warden,” Harry said to the girl who was just as weird as her aunt, as it turned out. Looked a lot like her, too.

“Could you not put us in a town?” Xenophilius asked when Harry got ready to move the property. “Somewhere a bit more remote would suit us better.”

“I know just where to put you,” Harry said as he opened a portal to where Hippogriff Hollow was planned, near the lake in the north-west corner. He placed the tower and its surrounding lands away from what one day would become a bustling town, right along the edge of what hopefully would grow into Centaur forest. The trees were now a good eight feet tall, but still looked quite spindly.

“Oh, this is lovely,” Xenophilius said, standing in his doorway and briefly glancing outside. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do. The Quibbler doesn’t print itself.” And with that he firmly closed the door. Luna stood outside and looked up to the sky where a few of the local hippogriffs were flying around.

“Are those Flurrieflies?” Luna asked, hand perched above her eyes to shield them from the sun.

“Weird witch, weird witch,” V cawed from his position on Harry’s shoulder.

“That’s not very nice,” Luna said with a stern look. “I thought sootwings were much more polite than this.”

And that was the day Harry learned that Sabrina Lovegood was the sanest person in her entire extended family.

Right after lunch, which Harry had with both Tom and Sabrina in his castle’s kitchen, an unexpected visitor dropped by their home. Harry, with Sabrina on his heels, went to meet them after Dobby popped into the kitchen to announce their guest’s arrival.

Lucius Malfoy stood in the entrance hall, dressed in his finest wool cloak with black fur collar, looking around in obvious distaste at the rustic surroundings.

“Lucius,” Harry said with an easy grin, voice just a tad too loud. Behind him Sabrina snickered. “What can I do for you?”

Lucius stared at Harry over his nose and sniffed. “I read in that quaint little newspaper this morning that the Ministry of Magica is looking for personnel. I do believe I am the best possible candidate for any number of positions.”

“Such as?” Harry asked with a curious tilt of his head.

“Such as Head of Law Enforcement,” Lucius said with an eager smirk.

Chapter Text

Chapter 40

Harry gave Lucius a considering look while Lucius smirked as though he’d just been made Governor of Magica. Harry didn’t want to outright dismiss the idea of having Lucius in the government, because Lucius was a seasoned politician who knew his way around a ministry. He was also loyal to Tom, up to a point. But Harry couldn’t see Lucius as the Head of Law Enforcement because Harry was quite sure that Lucius would turn it into his private paramilitary group of thugs before long.

No, Harry had a different position in mind for someone as ambitious as Lucius.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said with an entirely insincere smile. “But I’ve already hired someone as Head of Law Enforcement.”

Lucius’s smirk all but fell off his face and he gave Harry a questioning curve of his brows. “Who, if I may ask, have you hired for this job?”

“Patroclus Macmillan,” Harry said, unable to keep the humour out of his voice. “He spent many years in the field as an Auror, and after that became Head Auror and Head of Magical Law Enforcement for the British Ministry. Patroclus is exceptionally well suited for the position, I assure you.”

“He’s dead,” Lucius countered with the kind of finality that Harry simply didn’t understand.

“I don’t see the problem.” Harry shrugged and crossed his arms while brushing his thumb against the amulet around his neck. Patroclus appeared at once, giving Harry a nod in greeting and then sneering when he noticed Lucius Malfoy standing not three feet away.

“Patroclus,” Harry said as he gestured between Lucius and his great-grandfather. “I was just telling Lucius here that you’re the new Head of Magical Law Enforcement here on Magica.”

Without missing a beat, Patroclus played along, even if Harry hadn’t discussed any of this with him yet. “Naturally,” Patroclus said in a no-nonsense voice. “There is no one better suited on this island than me to whip a new generation of Aurors and hit-wizards into shape.”

“Exactly,” Harry agreed with a smile aimed just at his great-grandfather. “Now don’t be too disappointed, Lucius, because I have another position in mind for you.”

Lucius did indeed look a bit miffed and he wrinkled his nose as he brushed invisible dirt off his sleeve. “What would you have me do instead?”

“I’d like you to be Head of Taxes,” Harry said as sincerely as he could. Lucius was filthy rich and as far as Harry knew the man was not easily swayed by a bag of gold. Meaning he could be trusted to handle it on behalf of Magica. Not to mention Lucius was clever enough to set up a system for tax collection, and he was diplomatic enough to work with the goblins of Gringotts for banking purposes. Yes, the more Harry thought about it, the more he realized Lucius was a great choice for that position.

Lucius blinked a few times as he obviously considered his options and then a sly smile appeared on his face. “Very well, I accept.” Lucius held out a gloved hand and Harry shook it with a firm grip.

“I’ll let you know when our first meeting is to set everything up,” Harry said as he walked Lucius to the door. “In the meantime you’re welcome to hire a few members of staff you’ll expect to need in the future.”

“I will do exactly that. Good day.” And with a flourish of his cloak, Lucius swept out of the door.

“You’ll do it, right?” Harry asked his great-grandfather the moment he closed the door.

“Of course I’ll do it, at least to help everything get set up,” Patroclus assured him and then chuckled. “Though eventually you’ll want to hire someone that can actually hold a wand.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said with a dismissive little wave. “How is Hogwarts?”

“A little less broken than yesterday.” After it became clear who Moody really was, Patroclus had taken to patrolling the whole of Hogwarts and keeping an eye on everyone in the castle, not just Barty in disguise. “The renovations are coming along, but I believe it will take a few weeks at least before they can reopen.”

“Really?” Harry asked, surprised. “The damages hadn’t seemed that extensive considering they have magic with which to fix everything.”

“That’s what you’d think, yes,” Patroclus agreed with a little sigh. “But since they don’t know the exact reason why the castle fell apart, they’re taking much longer to put it back together.” This was said with a rather pointed look at Harry.

Ducking his head, Harry couldn’t quite hide his sheepish smile. “Yeah, yeah, my bad. But this will ultimately work in our favour, that Hogwarts is apparently not as safe as everyone assumed if it just falls apart for no reason at all.”

Snorting, Patroclus shook his head and gave Harry a glance that said a great deal about how he truly felt about his great-grandson’s actions.

“Okay, great seeing you, we’ll keep in touch,” Harry said quickly and with a brush of his thumb across the stone he dismissed Patroclus back to Hogwarts.

“So how long have you been spying on me?”

Harry just about jumped a foot in the air at suddenly hearing Tom’s voice behind him. He’d completely forgotten Tom was even in his castle.

“Blind fool, blind fool,” V cawed from his spot on the chandelier that hung from the ceiling.

“Er…” Harry turned around and gave Tom his most disarming smile. “What makes you say that?”

Tom didn’t seem too upset, thankfully, just a bit exasperated and vaguely amused. “Don’t, Harry. Just don’t. I’ve seen you summon your family members, even if you try to hide it. And your conversation with Patroclus just now confirms that he can visit Hogwarts without anyone seeing him.” Tom stepped up to Harry and gave him a level look. “Now, please answer my question.”

“From the moment I learned you were still alive,” Harry finally said with a defeated sigh. The niffler was out of the bag so there was no use trying to pretend Harry hadn’t done the things he’d done.

“Who did you have spying on me?”

“Auntie Eustice,” Harry said, and then quickly added, “it has to be said she’s been your biggest fan right from the start, been singing your praises ever since she met you. That’s probably because of the size of your personal library, but still…she adores you and always has.”

Tom ducked his head a little, his lips curving up in a tight smile, as though he was trying to hide it. “And can I assume that since Eustice is currently spending all her time teaching Kashvi all about charming broomsticks that her spying mission has come to an end.”

“Yeah,” Harry whispered, reaching out a hand to brush his fingers along Tom’s arm. “I’ve not had anyone spy on you in a while. I would apologize, but I’m not actually sorry, Tom.”

Chuckling, Tom shook his head. “I would have done the same in your shoes, I’m sure.” Tom got a sharp glint in his eyes as he stared at Harry. “Do you have your whole family spying on people right now?”

“Pretty much,” Harry said with a grin. “Bernadine and Henry are keeping an eye on the Ministry, specifically Fudge and Bones. Charis and Dorea are taking turns with Dumbledore. Fleamont is switching between McGonagall and Karkaroff, I believe. Lily is spending a lot of time with Snape, but I do believe that’s less about the spying these days and more about catching up with her old friend.”

“Impressive.” Tom nodded and finally reached for Harry’s hand with his own. “And knowing that a true Necromancer possesses this kind of power makes it easier to understand why governments around the world seem so determined to wipe them out.”

“We’re the ultimate spymasters if we want to be,” Harry agreed in a serious tone of voice while giving Tom’s hand a soft squeeze. “We can command those souls loyal to us to spy on others, and we can force the souls of our deceased enemies to spill all their secrets to us.”

Tom’s eyes were becoming more and more heated. “I want to fuck you so badly right now,” Tom finally breathed and Harry grinned while he pulled Tom closer.

“We really don’t have time right now, but tonight I’ll tell you all about how I used souls to spy on my enemies when I was a teen while you fuck me until I lose my ability to speak, all right?”

“I’m going to keep you to that, Harry.” Tom gave Harry a fierce kiss.

“Looking forwards to it. Now I really do have to get to work.” With another, much softer kiss, Harry said goodbye to his boyfriend and went to meet with Sabrina at the as of yet empty Ministry. Harry flew to Spellbridge and decided to walk through the town’s centre, which was positively bustling. It was a mild, sunny day though the wind was a bit crisp but that didn’t stop Magica’s residents from curiously checking out all the new shops that had opened.

Partridge Bread and Pastries was open and looked quite busy with at least five customers in the small shop. Elmer Branch was working hard on his nail salon and he gave Harry a cheerful wave when he spotted him. Libby Patterson was doing the same with her hair salon and Harry vowed to visit her as soon as her salon was opened. His hair could definitely do with a professional trim.

Harry walked through High Street on the way to the Ministry building. There he saw that the Muggle Emporium was under construction, and he spotted a shop he hadn’t known was coming to their small town.

Winston Family Butchers.

The shop looked almost completed and Harry pushed the door open to be greeted by a burly man with greying hair in his forties.

“Hi,” Harry said by way of greeting. “Are you interested in some rare breed pigs in six months? I’ve got some piglets just born.”

The man perked up and stepped up to Harry with his hand held out. “Mr Potter, great to meet you. Raymond Winston. And yes, I’d most certainly be interested.”

Harry shook his hand. “Excellent. I’ve got more litters on the way. I’ll also have some Highland cattle available for slaughter in the future. I’m thinking of getting some more commercial breeds as well to graze the countryside.”

“I recommend English Longhorn cattle, if you can find some,” Raymond said with an eager look in his eyes. “They give the best beef of any breed of cattle, I guarantee it.”

“I’ll add them to the list,” Harry said, happy to have received advice on what to buy. “Thanks. I’ve got to go, but I’ll stop by later to have a proper chat.”

“I’m looking forwards to it.” Raymond waved him off with a friendly smile.

As Harry continued his walk to the Ministry building he felt pretty chuffed that they now had an official butcher and Harry had a way to market his pigs and cattle.

Harry had expected perhaps a few people to drop by the Ministry building after Sabrina had posted the wanted ads for Ministry personnel in The Daily Snitch, but there was actually a line going out of the building.

Sirius stood in that line.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Harry asked while he stared at Sirius with wide eyes.

Sirius jumped out of the line at once. “Harry, you’ve gotta give me this job.”

“What job?” Harry asked, completely flummoxed by his godfather’s strange behaviour.

“Head of Magical Games and Sports, of course.” Sirius gave Harry his brightest grin. “James told me last night he had suggested you create that department and you’ll need someone to lead it.”

“You’re already Mayor of Spellbridge,” Harry pointed out slowly.

Sirius waved Harry’s remark away with an impatient gesture. “Hold an election for someone else to take over, Harry, because I’d much rather run Games and Sports.”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry said with a sigh. “You’re hired.”

Sirius bumped a fist in the air and followed Harry into the building, where they found Sabrina standing in front of the line, holding it back until Harry got there to interview people. That explained why Lucius had come to Harry’s home that early in the morning. He’d probably seen the writing on the wall and refused to wait in line with the common riffraff.

“I’ll be using that office,” Harry said, waving to one of the few offices that actually already had walls. “Send people through one by one, please, Sabrina.”

Corban Yaxley was first through the door while Harry was still conjuring a desk, some chairs, a perch for V and some quills, ink and paper.

“Whatever you have available,” Yaxley answered when Harry asked him what job he was applying for. “I’ve worked in several departments of the British Ministry, so I’m experienced enough in all manner of issues.”

Harry made a quick lists of departments that still needed heads. Yaxley was loyal to Tom, of course, but he was also an experienced Ministry employee. Harry figured he’d do well as a Department Head. “I’d like you to take the position of Head of the Department of National Affairs and Accidents.”

Yaxley nodded slowly but Harry could tell he wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

“It’s the department that will be in charge of all affairs on the island itself,” Harry explained as best as he could. “Everything from issuing licenses where needed, organizing festivals to dealing with accidents and inclement weather.”

Yaxley looked genuinely interested in all those things. “It’ll have a bit of diversity in my day to day job. I appreciate that.”

“You’re hired,” Harry said with a grin.

Next through the door was Theodorus Nott, and Harry knew exactly what to do with him. Theodorus was a smart, patient and cunning man.

“I’m making you Head of Education,” Harry said without even asking Theodorus why he was there. “Tom’s been working on some plans for that, so you should definitely talk to him, but I trust that you can set up the Department of Education without any issues.”

“I certainly appreciate the challenge,” Nott said with a grateful smile.

After that there were only two departments left that still needed heads, since Harry was promoting pretty much every officer who’d worked for him so far. Remus obviously became the Head of the Department of Immigration, and Sebastian became the Head of Construction and Planning, and so on and so forth.

But Harry needed Heads for Muggle Affairs and for Housing and Financial Aid. To counter all the purebloods he’d hired, Harry selected two muggleborn witches to take the jobs. Amira Saidi became the new Head of Muggle Affairs. She was the daughter of Moroccan immigrants and she wore a hijab in Gryffindor colours. She spoke four languages and seemed quite diplomatic in nature, which Harry figured made her good in dealing with all manner of people.

For Housing and Financial Aid he chose a witch named Paloma Villenueva, whose father was Spanish while her mother came from Aberdeen. Paloma had worked at an Accountant’s Office as an assistant, and she was very good with numbers and had great attention to detail. Something she’d need in that department.

Most of the other applicants got jobs as staff to work in the new departments, though Harry left most of the details up to the new Heads. Sabrina immediately scheduled a meeting with all the Department Heads for later that week to make sure everyone knew what was expected of them.

Harry went home for lunch with Tom, who had spent the morning filling out the ICW applications for receiving an independent status. “I got the package this morning,” Tom said when Harry raised both eyebrows at the pile of forms on Tom’s desk. “They’re certainly thorough. You’ll need to sign some things as well as the Governor.”

After a quick meal of some roast beef sandwiches, Harry and Tom flew to Spellbridge and waited outside the empty bank building for Stormaxe to arrive.

At one on the dot the portkey activated and Stormaxe appeared with a few other goblins. Introductions were made and then Harry stepped back and gestured to the large, white building behind them.

“This is just a placeholder,” Harry explained quickly when he noticed the unimpressed look on Stormaxe’s face. “You can tear it down and build your own bank, or you can renovate this to fit your own desires.”

“We’ll tear it down,” Stormaxe said bluntly, though he did soften his words by adding, “We prefer to build our own structures with our own magic.”

“I completely understand,” Harry agreed, and he did get why the goblins wanted to create their own homes. Wizards had never treated them as equals, so goblins were a suspicious bunch by nature.

“Will your people be living at the bank?” Tom asked with a diplomatic smile that said nothing at all. “You’re welcome to, of course. But if you and your kin desire some more fresh air, we have a stretch of land on the coast reserved for you and your people.”

Stormaxe got a contemplative look on his face. “For now we’ll remain within the bank, but I wouldn’t be surprised if some of my people would enjoy living above ground eventually.” Stormaxe chuckled in quiet amusement. “We’ve simply not had the opportunity to do so in many centuries.”

“We’ll keep the land reserved,” Tom assured him with a deep nod. “Whenever it is needed, it will be there for you and your people.”

“My thanks.” Stormaxe started walking towards High Street, which started opposite the bank. “I see that there’s plenty of commerce already. Goblins will be allowed to open shops, yes?”

“Oh yes,” Harry said quickly. “We’ve just started putting together Magica’s Ministry and our Housing Department will be in charge of dispensing residential and commercial properties. Any goblin interested in starting a business just needs to drop by and sign a contract and they’ll be given a building.”

“And if they want to build their own shop?” a young goblin asked with a bit of a challenge in his eyes.

“Then they’ll be given the land to build on,” Harry told him, not at all put off by his attitude. He understood that relations between goblins and humans would take time to recover from centuries of inequalities between them.

After a walking tour through Spellbridge, which the goblins seemed to enjoy quite a bit, Tom pulled a scroll out of his inner cloak pocket. “This is the contract for the building and the land. We’ve signed it, and you’re free to take it home with you and study it before adding your own signature.”

Stormaxe accepted the scroll with a solemn nod. “We will have this returned to you within a few days and we’ll want to start construction of our newest bank right away.”

“Excellent,” Harry said and there was an exchange of bows and nods before the goblins apparated away.

“Are we getting a Gringotts location?” Libby the hairdresser asked as she stood in the doorway of her new salon. When Harry nodded, she said, “Thank Merlin. I was already worried where I was going to put all my earnings every day. I hate keeping large amounts of gold in the house.” She laughed at herself. “I’m not that good with wards.”

“The goblins will have their bank up and running in no time,” Tom told her with a warm chuckle.

“We have time for a quick dinner before the town meeting tonight,” Harry said as he and Tom took to the sky right there and then, much to Libby’s surprise if her sudden shriek was any indication. Harry was just grateful that V had kept his mouth shut during the meeting with the goblins. Thankfully, for all that V liked to stir shit up, he did understand the importance of diplomacy in certain situations. He was a piece of Tom’s soul, after all.

They ate a quick meal of chicken a la cacciatore over pasta and afterwards they barely had time to freshen up a bit before they had to be off again.

“We need to enlarge Town Hall,” Remus said in a bit of a panicked voice the moment Harry and Tom entered the building.

“I’m on it,” Tom said, whipping out his wand and joining Regulus who was already inscribing runes left and right.

“How many people are we expecting then?” Harry asked while he gave Remus a dubious look.

Remus remained quiet for a few thoughtful moments before he shook his head and gave Harry an amused smile. “I don’t think you realize how quickly we’ve grown as a nation, Harry.”

Harry shrugged while he looked around the already large room. “I guess we’ll see.”

As it turned out, even with the enlargements Tom and Regulus had put in place, the room was still packed once everyone got there. Harry and most of his officers stood on the podium and even they barely fit on there since their numbers had grown as well.

“Welcome everyone,” Harry called out. Before he could do anything, Tom aimed his wand at Harry’s throat and cast a sonorous. “Sorry, let’s try that again. Welcome, everyone!”

Now people could hear him clearly, even in the back and everyone quieted down as they focused on Harry.

“Thank you all for coming. We have quite a bit to go over this evening, so I’ll get started right away.” Harry gave everyone a few seconds to pay attention to him before he continued. “We’re getting a Gringotts. Construction will begin in a few days.” This was met with lots of mumbling which for the most part sounded as though people appreciated that news.

“We’re also getting anti-apparition wards.” That was received with much less positivity. Harry quickly held up a hand to ward off the worst of the complaints. “Apparition within Magica’s borders will remain possible, of course, as will apparating out of Magica. But apparating into the country will only be possible from our Apparition and Portkey Terminal behind our Ministry building in the very near future. This is for security purposes because we have received signals that the world at large will probably find out about us quite soon.”

The people seemed to understand the importance of that and accepted this news, though some still grumbled.

“We have a few plans to keep growing Magica,” Harry continued. “First, I’d like to encourage everyone to recruit from abroad. Meaning from anywhere in the world that isn’t Britain. I’m sure some of you will have contacts with werewolf packs all over the world. Please do contact them and tell them about Magica. That also goes for any family you may have. And please remember that squibs are welcome here, too.”

People were nodding thoughtfully and telling each other about their magical friends in Romania or this specific werewolf pack in Denmark they were sure would love to come live in Magica.

“I’d also like you all to keep an eye open for any healers or wandmakers who would be interested in moving here, because those are two professions we desperately need at this moment. Another way we are going to be growing our population is through a way that will ensure we will not become inbred over the next few generations.” Harry inhaled a deep breath, understanding that for some people this subject would be a bit controversial perhaps. “We’re asking all those who are willing, to donate sperm to Muggle sperm banks. This way there will be in an influx of magical births around the world in the years to come, and we will monitor those children and eventually invite them to go to school in our great nation.”

The reactions were as Harry expected. Some thought it brilliant, some had clear reservations, but most seemed to think this was a perfectly acceptable idea as long as no one was forced to partake. There were plenty of mostly single men who volunteered to donate in the future.

“Marvolo Gaunt is leading this project right now, and in the future the Department of Muggle Affairs will take over, led by Amira Saidi.” Harry gestured at Tom and Amira so the people knew who to talk to.

“We also need a new Mayor of Spellbridge.” Harry waved Sirius over, who stepped up to him with an endearing grin, waving at the crowd. “Sirius here has accepted a new job at the Ministry. Thanks, Sirius for the three weeks or so you were Mayor. We appreciate it and we’ll buy you a pint in the Cock after we’re finished here.”

This earned Harry some laughter from the crowd. Harry gave people a moment to calm down before he continued. “We’ll elect our next Mayor and everyone is welcome to run. So, if you’re interested in becoming the Mayor you have one month to campaign because on February 1st we’ll hold the elections.” Harry raised both hands to silence people. “We’ll hold two elections, actually, because our amazing construction crew is going to start on creating Hexport soon and that town will need a Mayor as well.”

There was some applause for that announcement. People seemed happy to know that anyone could run and that Harry’s promises about future democratic processes were being honoured.

“And now for the bad news.” Harry grinned at the groans he heard around him. “Taxes.”

Immediately there was booing and Billy Malone shouting, “That wasn’t in the brochure!”

Harry laughed just as loudly as most other people. “I know, I know, no one wants to pay taxes. I get it, I promise. But the truth is that if we want Magica to become a real country, we’re going to need a real government with real people, and those people need to eat. So far I’ve been picking up the tab and I’ve paid people out of pocket but for obvious reasons that is not sustainable.”

There were more than a few understanding nods, thankfully. Harry didn’t want to deal with a revolt just because people couldn’t be bothered to pay their taxes.

“In the coming weeks we’re going to put together the numbers and you’ll all receive letters detailing how to pay your taxes. I know it sucks, but it’s got to be done.” Immediately Harry slung an arm around Sirius, who was still standing beside him. “To soften the blow of that news, our former Mayor has some good news.”

“We’re having a broom race!” Sirius shouted, raising both arms over his head. Lots of cheering and whistling could be heard around them. “This Sunday in fact. You can register with the beautiful Kashvi at Broomstix, where you can also rent a broom just in case you don’t have your own. The winner will receive 100 galleons plus a gift basket with some products that are for sale in the shops here in Spellbridge. Second place gets 50 galleons plus basket and third place gets 30 galleons plus basket.”

Those were generous prizes and at once there were lots of people making plans to join in the race. Harry was glad to hear that because it would be a great event to get people out and about and doing something together as a nation for the first time.

“That’s all we’ve got!” Harry shouted over the crowd’s noise. “Next town meeting will be in two weeks!”

The noise around them was deafening, just from hundreds of people loudly talking about their chances of winning the upcoming broom race.

“Nicely presented,” Tom said as he stepped up to Harry. “You balance the good and bad news really well.”

Harry grinned at Tom and then gave him a cheeky wink. “It’s not my first time telling a crowd of people they’re expected to pay taxes in the future.” Back in Santika, when he’d been setting Sildar up, Harry had made plenty of mistakes in running a country. Thankfully, he had learned from those occasions and nowadays he knew how to approach sharing news of any kind with a crowd.

They joined a large chunk of the crowd at the Irish Cock for a pint or two but they didn’t stay beyond that. “I haven’t forgotten the promise that you made this morning,” Tom whispered in Harry’s ear before playfully biting at his earlobe.

“Yeah, we’re going,” Harry said with a wave at Remus and Regulus. He’d had a busy day and he could do with a good fuck before getting a good night’s sleep.

But when they arrived at their home, someone was waiting for them in the entrance hall.

“Harry,” Bernadine said with an urgent look. “Henry is still at the Ministry, keeping an eye on things but I had to tell you right away.”

“What?” Harry asked, before leaning over and shouting down the hallway. “Igor, wine for two!” Harry already knew he needed alcohol for whatever Bernadine was going to tell him.

“Eurgh!”

“It’s Amelia Bones,” Bernadine said with wide eyes. “She’s heard the rumours about Magica, including how to apply for citizenship. She’s sending in an Auror to go undercover.”

“Who is she sending?” Tom all but demanded, face set in a dark frown.

“A young witch named Nymphadora Tonks,” Bernadine said with a grave look. “She’s a metamorphmagus. She can look like literally anyone.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 41

Sunday’s broom race was a huge success and just about everyone on the island came out to take part, either as a competitor or as a spectator.

“Why didn’t you compete?” Tom asked Harry quietly as they stood near the finish line in the centre of Spellbridge waiting for the racers to arrive. “I thought you loved flying on a broom?”

“I do love flying, sure,” Harry whispered back, meanwhile keeping an eye on street, which was lined with a crowd of people all eager to see who the winner would be. “But I’m the Governor. I’m not exactly impartial in such events, and the last thing I want is for other participants to feel like they should let me win or something silly like that.”

“I suppose that’s a concern, yes,” Tom agreed with a thoughtful look.

“I’ll just cheer people on and hand out the prizes.” Harry craned his neck as he heard the crowd further up the street start cheering.

The racers came flying towards them at breakneck speed, the first bunch of them very close together, but it was still clear who the winner was once they crossed the finish line. Nigel Patterson, Libby the hairdresser’s son who was a fifth year Hufflepuff, finished first on his own broom that he used to play Chaser on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Second was Amira Saidi, their new Head of Muggle Affairs, who had played Quidditch back when she’d been a Gryffindor. And third was Draco Malfoy, who was the current Seeker for the Slytherin team and who flew without a doubt the most expensive broom.

“This has been a great way to see who has some real talent on a broom,” Sirius said to Harry as they got ready to award the winners their prizes. When Harry quirked an eyebrow at him, Sirius added with a huge grin, “We’re starting a Quidditch League, didn’t I tell you that yet?”

Shaking his head, Harry gave his godfather a fond look. “Not yet, but I’m not surprised, honestly.”

“You know, Harry would be great as a Quidditch player,” James said as he floated a little closer to them, Lily by his side. Harry’s whole family had wanted to see the broom race, and aside from Bernadine and Henry, they were all there. Harry no longer felt the need to hide his family away as he’d done at first, especially since most of Magica’s inhabitants were used to seeing Auntie Eustice around as she taught Kashvi everything about charming broomsticks.

“I bet you’d be great,” Sirius said, staring at Harry with hopeful eyes. “If he takes after you just a little bit in that regard, Prongs, he’d be more than good enough to fly on a Quidditch Team.”

Harry held up a hand to ward off his godfather’s enthusiasm. “I am far too busy to play Quidditch, I mean it. Don’t even tempt me.”

James and Sirius exchanged a look that clearly showed they would be tempting Harry at some point in the future. Probably a lot.

Harry wanted to protest some more but the winners appeared before them so he got to work awarding them their prizes. Afterwards there was a gathering of people in the pub and on town square, and the pub and other stores like the bakery did great business as people mingled while enjoying a pint and some pastries.

Tom and Harry socialized with many of the people there, taking this opportunity to talk to those around them, and listen to their concerns or suggestions. They didn’t stay too late, and like most people they headed home early in the evening.

The next day they had their first official meeting of Magica’s brand-new government. The construction crew had done a great job finishing up the interior of the Ministry building, and they had a large conference room available for their meetings with a rectangular table made of dark oak. Harry sat at the head, with Tom on one side of him and Sabrina on the other one.

“Welcome,” Harry said as he looked at all the gathered Department Heads. “I’ve got a few announcements to make and after that each of you will have a chance to speak.” Harry watched as everyone nodded in agreement. “This week we expect an undercover Auror to join us from the British Ministry.”

That certainly got a reaction and everyone looked at everyone else as they asked worried questions or complained about foreign governments overstepping themselves.

“Not to worry,” Harry all but yelled over the many worried voices. “We know who it is and when they’ll arrive and I’ll be there to welcome them.”

“That’s it?” Lucius demanded as he gave Harry a disbelieving glare. “You are simply going to welcome this intruder?”

“Sure,” Harry said easily, quite amused to see everyone so up in arms. “We’re not hiding anything here, Lucius. We’re just building a brand new country. Britain could send a whole regiment of Aurors and I’d welcome them all and given them a private tour if they were interested. And by the end of that tour I’d tell them to fuck back off to their own country and leave us be.”

That got him a few chuckles from most of them, but it seemed that Harry had managed to convince them that nothing more needed to be done.

“This means that we will be officially discovered soon, though,” Tom added as he glanced around the table. “I’ve got all the paperwork for the ICW ready to file the moment Britain tries to lay a claim on us.”

“I doubt they’ll even know what to do,” Remus said with a small smile. “The British Ministry, I mean. This is unprecedented. At any rate, I’ve given priority to any applications from outside of Britain, so we’ll have a mixture of nationalities living here by the time Britain could try to make a claim.”

“That will help us in front of the ICW, I’m sure,” Tom said with a decisive nod.

“The Transportation Hall should be finished this week, before the undercover Auror arrives,” Sebastian said, which Harry was very pleased to hear. “After that we will have complete control over who apparates or portkeys onto the island.”

Tom frowned as he leaned forwards in his chair to glance at Sebastian. “How are you going to identify who is a Magica citizen and who isn’t?”

“That is an excellent question,” Sebastian said and looked at Harry with raised eyebrows.

“I’m not actually sure how we’re going to do that,” Harry said slowly, because he honestly hadn’t considered that issue just yet.

“The British Ministry uses magical passports,” Corban Yaxley said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Anyone wanting to travel abroad can apply for one and then use it to travel internationally.”

“We can create something like that,” Tom suggested before Harry could say something similar. “I think our departments should work on that together for the time being, Corban.”

Corban couldn’t help giving Tom a deep, respectful nod in agreement, even though Tom’s identity as Voldemort was officially a secret. Though to be honest, Harry wasn’t sure anymore if Tom even wanted to continue as Voldemort in any official capacity. He hadn’t really brought it up since getting back the majority of his soul. Well, whatever the case, now was not the time to consider such things.

“Great, so you’ll take care of magical passports. Sabrina, could you put a piece in The Daily Snitch about people needing them from now on to travel abroad?” Harry glanced at his assistant, who nodded eagerly and wrote down a reminder for herself. “Good, who else has an announcement to make?”

Everyone had something to say, and one after the other they got a chance to speak their minds. Since this was their first meeting and everyone was still busy with getting their departments up and running, it was mostly small issues that needed to be discussed. Harry was just happy they had a government and that everyone seemed dedicated to get their departments working like they should.

Lucius presented a preliminary tax plan, which consisted of everyone paying the exact same amount of taxes. Harry gave him a tired look. “The rich will pay more taxes than the poor, Lucius. Make that work.”

“Are you certain?” Lucius tried with a charming little smile.

“Yes,” Harry snapped, though he couldn’t fault Lucius for trying to get things working to his own advancement. The man was a Slytherin after all. “Create a tax scale that’s reasonable.”

Lucius nodded though he did look just a bit disappointed. Not that Harry cared.

“When can the primary school building be done?” Theodorus Nott asked while giving Sebastian an inquisitive glance. “We’re getting quite a few children now, not to mention the younger members of the Galloway Pack are ready for more formal education.”

Sebastian paged through a stack of paperwork in front of him. “The school is on our schedule. Should be ready within two weeks.”

“That’s workable. I’ll hire a few teachers in the meantime,” Theodorus said with a satisfied nod.

“There are still some people living on large pieces of land that are not contributing to the food supply,” Rachel said with a very pointed look aimed directly at Sirius.

“Yeah, fine, we’ll get some sheep,” Sirius mumbled, looking utterly uninterested in the subject.

Harry sighed and leaned back in his seat. He didn’t know what Sirius’ problem was when it came to keeping livestock, but Rachel was absolutely right to call him out on it. “What about I buy a herd of cattle and let them graze on your land?” Harry suggested, since that would be a great solution for getting some English Longhorn cattle and keeping them away from the Scottish Highlands, so their offspring remained pure. And Sirius had plenty of land for a small herd of cattle, Harry was sure.

“Sure, that would be great,” Sirius said quickly, offering Harry a relieved smile.

“That’s acceptable,” Rachel said, writing something down in her notebook.

“I think you’ll all be happy to hear I got an application from a healer,” Remus announced when it was his turn. He did get lots of excited reactions to that, since they were in desperate need of one. “A Danish wolf pack has sent in an application to move here. One of their newer members is a fully trained and experienced Healer, who got infected just last year.” Remus shuffled through some documents in front of him. “His name is Johan Rasmussen.”

“That is great news.” Harry couldn’t hold back a most satisfied grin. “When he arrives, be sure to ask him if he’s willing to train a few more Healers.”

“I will, don’t worry,” Remus said at once. “I have a small list of people who have indicated that they would like to work in healthcare.”

Harry released a deep sigh, glad to have that problem finally dealt with. Having a growing society with no one available to help those in medical need had been a very real problem, but now a solution to that was finally at hand.

Sirius was last to speak. “We’re starting a Quidditch League!” Sirius gave everyone expectant looks, and most seemed willing to indulge him by smiling and nodding at his enthusiastic announcement. “It’s going to be a while until we get it up and running, but Sebastian told me we’ve got four cities planned for the near future, so I suggest we get four Quidditch teams up and running to begin with.”

“I’m assuming it will be on a semi-professional basis,” Lucius said with an unimpressed glare. “Magica is hardly capable of supporting four fully professional teams at this time.”

Sirius waved those comments away as though they were the silliest things he’d ever heard. “Like I said, it’s a work in progress. I just want to start recruiting early. And I want to build a Quidditch Stadium.”

“We don’t have money for that. We haven’t even collected any taxes yet,” Lucius said at once, his voice taking on a sharp edge.

“Financed by me,” Sirius countered with a daring grin while he gave Lucius an utterly triumphant look. “Reggie and I have been talking, and he’s happy to chip in as well. It will be the Black Quidditch Stadium right here in Spellbridge.”

Lucius sat up and stared at Sirius as though the man had just personally insulted him. “Then I shall finance the construction of a Quidditch Stadium in Hexport. The Malfoy Quidditch Stadium.”

Theodorus chuckled as though he hadn’t seen something as funny as that in ages. “And I’ll pay for the Nott Quidditch Stadium in Kneazledale.”

Everyone looked around the table to see if someone was willing to sponsor the fourth and final stadium. Patroclus gave Harry a pointed look. Harry’s great-grandfather had always been a huge Quidditch fan, as most members of Harry’s family were. Harry also knew that James would never forgive him if Harry didn’t build a Quidditch stadium in the Potter name. “Yeah, all right. I’ll pay for the Potter Quidditch Stadium in Hippogriff Hollow.”

“Good lad,” Patroclus mumbled with a little smirk.

“Yeah!” Sirius punched a fist in the air. “That will certainly help to get the Magica Quidditch League up and running.” He gave everyone around him a knowing look. “You all saw how much the people enjoyed the broom race yesterday. Sports connects people like few other things can.”

Sirius did have a point there, Harry figured, so he gave his godfather an approving smile and called the meeting to an end. It had been a good first meeting, even if a lot was left on the table to decide on in the future. “Same time next week,” Harry said as he got up from his chair. Meeting like this every week seemed like a necessity until they got everything up and running smoothly, and probably beyond that as well. As Governor Harry wanted to keep himself informed on everything that was going on in his country.

“That was a productive morning,” Tom said with a warm smile as he accompanied Harry to his new office. There wasn’t any furniture in it yet, save for a few wooden chairs and a small desk Harry had hastily conjured.

And a very simple perch for V, who made his dissatisfaction known as he landed on it. “Dumb perch, dumb perch.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry mumbled and made a mental note to visit with Erika and Claire to commission some decent furniture for his office. “You can make do with that thing for now, V.”

Harry sat down behind his small desk with a sigh and summoned Violet. “Tea for two, please. And something light to eat.” Then he turned to look at Tom and smiled at him. “Yeah, things are really starting to run smoothly, aren’t they?”

Tom sat down on the only other chair in the office. “For as far as can be expected of a country that’s only been around for a few months, certainly.”

“I just want to have some level of government up and running for when we’re discovered,” Harry said as he poured them both a steaming cup of tea. “The more we resemble a real, fully functioning country, the fewer claims anyone else can make on us.”

“I have several different speeches already prepared to give in front of the ICW,” Tom said before blowing over his cup a few times. He took a long sip and released a satisfied sigh.

Harry quietly observed him while remembering his earlier thoughts about Tom’s old ambitions. “Do you still even want to be Voldemort right now?”

Tom coughed violently a few times while he stared at Harry with wide eyes.

Harry sat back and couldn’t hold back a knowing grin. “Did I just hit on something significant here, or what?”

For a moment Tom looked like he was about to verbally rake Harry over the coals but then he sighed, his shoulders slumping just a bit. “To be completely honest with you, I have no idea. I certainly don’t want to return to how things were in the past.”

“We already knew that,” Harry said, tilting his head as he stared at his lover in fascination. He’d never met someone who was undergoing such enormous changes in their life, on all possible levels. “But you seem to have lost any enthusiasm for the role of Voldemort entirely since regaining your soul.”

“Voldemort just seems entirely superfluous these days,” Tom said in a quiet voice, not meeting Harry’s eyes as he stared off into the distance. “Everything is running smoothly in Magica, and even if we were to run into problems, we would need diplomacy, not a Dark Lord, to solve them.”

Harry laughed and picked up a slice of lemon cake from the tray. “I’m glad you’ve come this far. It’s been amazing to see you recover the way you have.”

Tom didn’t seem to know if he should regard that comment as a compliment or an insult and his face did a few contradicting things before he simply nodded and sipped more tea. Harry could hardly imagine what it must be like for Tom himself to go through such radical changes. When Harry first met him, his soul was still a jagged mess and that was after he’d already reunited with the diary horcrux. Harry shuddered to think what sort of a man Tom had been when he’d only had a tiny fraction of his original soul to work with. There was a small sense of professional curiosity that wanted to see what a human being looked like without most of their soul, but mostly Harry figured he was lucky that he had never met the Dark Lord Voldemort at his most inhumane.

“You could retire Voldemort entirely,” Harry said on impulse, though he was immediately unsure if he’d taken things too far or not.

Snorting, Tom shook his head though he didn’t seem angry or truly upset in any other way. “I have considered that, yes. But I believe my followers still expect me to act like Voldemort from time to time.”

“Or,” Harry said slowly, leaning towards Tom a little and giving him an encouraging look. “You could stop thinking of them as followers and start treating them as colleagues, which is what they are to you right now.”

Something seemed to dawn on Tom and he looked at Harry as though seeing him for the very first time. “Look at you,” Tom said, voice full of astonishment. “Look at how easily you’ve vanquished Lord Voldemort.”

Harry raised both eyebrows as he stared at Tom. “Er…”

Laughing, Tom couldn’t disguise the admiration on his face, even though he seemed to be trying to. “You came out of nowhere and within barely two months you’ve lured me into your bed, you’ve got me working in the government you lead and you’re now encouraging me to do away with being the Dark Lord entirely. How utterly brilliant you are, Harry Potter, to have accomplished such a thing without even trying.”

Ducking his head, Harry gave a helpless shrug. “I’m not sure if you’ll believe me or not, but I truly didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”

“Oh, I believe it,” Tom said with a look not out of place on a lovesick fool. “I see how you operate, dearest. You couldn’t plan anything further than a week out even if the fate of the entire world depended on it. That is what makes this all so truly extraordinary.”

Grinning, Harry couldn’t help but say, “So was that yes on retiring Voldemort, or…?”

“I’ll consider it,” Tom said, most of the affection slipping off his face as he gave Harry an even look. “And there is a lot to consider, so you’ll have to give me some time.”

“Sure,” Harry said with an encouraging gesture before reaching for his tea. “Take all the time you need.”

Over the next three days Harry made sure everything was in place for the arrival of the Auror. Sebastian and his construction crew finished the Transportation Hall, Tom and Corban sorted out the magical passports, and Harry raised the anti-apparition wards over the island so that the Auror couldn’t call for backup and accidentally set off a genuine invasion of a foreign country. During those three days Remus and his immigration crew welcomed only new people from countries other than Britain. It was a ragtag assortment of werewolves and muggleborns, for the most part, from Denmark, Germany, Italy, Albania, Poland, Greece, India, Singapore, Kenia and one lone American half-blood. Remus had hired two assistants and he still had trouble keeping up with all the new applications from all over the world.

Mildred from the Post Office got a few volunteers together and organized free English lessons in Town Hall for all the international newcomers twice a week. Most of these new citizens spoke at least some English, but a majority of them could probably do with some language lessons.

Then finally the day came that the Auror was set to arrive. Thanks to Bernadine and Henry’s diligent spy work, Harry knew exactly what the Auror’s undercover identity was going to be and who to look out for.

Remus and his two assistants stood behind the immigration terminals in the brand-new portkey hall, registering all the new people coming in that day. Harry was there under the guise of talking a few issues through with Remus about the immigration process, but in truth he was simply waiting for the Auror to arrive. He’d left V outside, not wanting his chatty companion to spoil anything.

Nymphadora Tonks appeared at three o’clock sharp holding a rusty candlestick. She looked completely average. She had an average body of average height, with average hair and an average face. Harry thought this was an excellent disguise because Doreen Jones, as Tonks called herself on her application, was an utterly average and therefore forgettable woman.

Tonks stepped up to Remus’ desk, where Harry conveniently stood to chat with his friend. He immediately took a look at her soul, which was young and bright and full of energy and really didn’t match Doreen’s average appearance. And now that Harry had seen her soul once, he’d be able to pick her out from then on, no matter what she looked like on the outside. Souls were like fingerprints; they were all unique.

“Hi!” Tonks said with a huge smile, before remembering she was playing an average woman and toning her enthusiasm down a little. From what Harry understood from Bernadine and Henry, Tonks had only just passed all her Auror exams and she was brand new at her job. Which probably explained her excess energy. “I’d like to register and…er…get some more information about this place?”

Remus gave Tonks an apologetic smile, playing along perfectly. “I’m so sorry, Miss Jones, but we are swamped today. I don’t have time to answer many questions right now.”

Harry stepped in at once. “Just get her registered, Remus, and I’ll give Miss Jones a tour and tell her what she wants to know.”

Tonks blinked large eyes as she stared at Harry, as though only now noticing him. “Oh, you’re Harry Potter.”

“That I am,” Harry said with a grin. “And I also happen to be the founder and Governor of Magica, so there is no better man on our island to answer your questions.”

Tonks looked like her next promotion at work had come early. “Yes, please, thanks!”

“We’ll discuss that issue with the passports later,” Harry told Remus while he stepped around the desk to stand beside Tonks.

Remus asked her the usual questions, which Tonks answered without any problems, though she did pause a bit after Remus asked her what kind of work she wanted to do before she answered that she would like to work for the government.

“Which department?” Harry asked, leaning his hip against the desk as he quietly observed Tonks.

“Oh…er…any would do,” Tonks said quickly.

“Law enforcement?” Harry asked, giving her a hopeful look. “We desperately need people there.” Which wasn’t a lie, since Patroclus was a harsh taskmaster and wouldn’t allow just anyone in his department, so therefore the selection process to work there was particularly strict.

“Yeah, sure,” Tonks said, looking a bit puzzled, probably wondering if Harry knew more than he let on.

“My great-grandfather runs that department,” Harry said, keeping his tone light. “And he’s very picky about who he lets into his new Auror force. So we encourage everyone to apply. That way we’ll hopefully fill all the positions at some point in the future.”

Tonks cleared her throat. “Your great-grandfather?”

“Yes. Patroclus Macmillan,” Harry said with a proud smile. “He worked as an Auror for many years before becoming Head Auror and eventually Head of Magical Law Enforcement in the British Ministry.”

“I thought he was dead,” Tonks mumbled, clearly confused.

“Sure he’s dead, but that’s never stopped anyone when their great-grandson is a necromancer, now has it?” Harry gave Tonks a shit-eating grin, which grew bigger the paler Tonks became.

“You’re a necromancer?” Tonks whispered in utter disbelief.

“First rule of Magica,” Harry said with an airy gesture around the hall. “All magic is legal.”

“This is you done,” Remus interrupted, handing Tonks some paperwork. “Your new residence is at Fir Street number 12. Harry can show you where it is.”

“Sure. Come along, Miss Jones.” And without giving Tonks any time to process what she’d just learned, Harry turned on the spot and marched out of the hall towards the Ministry building and the centre of Spellbridge. V came flying down at once and landed on Harry’s shoulder, pulling on his hair a few times for having been left behind.

“That’s our Ministry,” Harry said as he pointed out the huge, white building with its large columns around the entrance.

“Wait, wait,” Tonks said as she came rushing after him, backpack slung carelessly over her shoulder. “Are you really a necromancer? That’s incredibly dark magic.”

“I am well aware,” Harry said with a bit of a snort, while V briefly cackled. “I practice that magic every day and have been since I was a teenager.” Harry stopped walking and gave Tonks a measured look. “Why do you think I created a whole new country? Because I found out that all the magic I want to do is bloody well illegal in Britain.”

Tonks sputtered for a moment, looking like she wasn’t sure which was up or down anymore. “But you can’t just create a new country!”

“Sure I can.” Harry turned around on the spot and spread out his arms. “You’re standing in it. I created the whole island in international waters, so no one has a claim to it but us.”

“But…but…” Tonks really looked utterly lost by this revelation, and Harry realized that she truly hadn’t understood what Magica was before coming there. The Auror department had probably only heard about a place where all the werewolves and other people from Knockturn Alley were disappearing to. So they’d sent in someone undercover to learn more about it.

Well, Auror Tonks was getting a few lessons, all right.

Harry crossed his arms and waited a few moments until Tonks looked like she wasn’t about to keel over from shock. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed this or not, Miss Jones, but there were a lot of disenfranchised people living in Britain’s wizarding world. The werewolves, the vampires, the muggleborns, dark wizards, squibs and more. They were all treated like lesser beings in their old country. So once I created this island I invited them to come live here. It’s as simple as that.”

Tonks looked so lost that Harry felt a bit sorry for her at that point. This obviously wasn’t what she’d been expecting to find. Harry resumed walking and Tonks quietly followed along as they walked from the Ministry through a small park towards Gringotts. The goblins had torn down the placeholder building in a day and had quickly started construction on their new bank.

“Is that a Gringotts bank?” Tonks asked, eyes wide as she glanced between the bank and Harry.

“Blind witch, blind witch,” V chattered while he glared at Tonks for stating the obvious.

“Yes,” Harry said as they rounded the building, High Street now coming into view. “We have more and more shops opening, so we desperately needed a bank. Thankfully the goblins were all too happy to open a new branch in a country where there are no restrictive laws against their species.”

“That is…er…fantastic,” Tonks said without any real enthusiasm, since she was still in too much obvious shock.

Just as they entered High Street, Rigel the dragon came flying over, barely clearing the buildings. He was being chased by at least half a dozen youths on broomsticks.

“Was that a dragon?” Tonks shrieked, going for her wand as she glared up at the sky.

“Relax, he’s friendly. His name is Rigel,” Harry said with a burst of laughter. “The kids like to chase him around the island, it’s this whole game they’ve got going on.”

“But the Statute of Secrecy,” Tonks said in an urgent voice as she glared at Harry. “They could be seen.”

“By who?” Harry shrugged and continued his walk down High Street. “There are no muggles here, Miss Jones, and therefore there is no Statute of Secrecy. Our dragon and our kids can do all the flying they want.”

Tonks couldn’t stop frowning now as she processed all that she’d learned so far. They made it to town square, where quite a few people were milling about, doing a bit of shopping or chatting with each other on the bench beneath the large beech tree.

The door to Broomstix opened and Sirius stepped out. “Hey, Harry!” Sirius shouted, raising his arm and giving Harry a big wave.

“Hey, Sirius!” Harry waved back.

“Dog man, dog man,” V chattered while bobbing his head in Sirius’ direction.

Tonks stood stock still, mouth dropped open. “Is that Sirius Black? He was executed.” And before she could stop herself, her hair turned from an average brown to a bright pink.

Chapter Text

Chapter 42

“It appears that some cosmetic charm just failed,” Harry said with a hesitant smile, as though he was embarrassed on Tonks’ behalf. He knew, of course, that Tonks had just accidentally shifted a part of her body thanks to her metamorphmagus powers, but he played it off as a cosmetic charm acting up to give her an out. “Your hair just turned a delightful shade of pink.”

“Ugly hair, ugly hair,” V cawed while he tilted his head to take a good look at Tonks’ new hair colour.

Tonks opened and closed her mouth a few times as Sirius came strolling up to them. She looked from Harry to Sirius and back and then raised a trembling hand to touch her own hair. “Ah, yes, I’ve been using a few charms lately and some of them just will not stick.” She managed an uncertain smile, probably not sure if Harry would buy such an explanation.

Harry studiously ignored the issue, not wanting to give Tonks the impression that she’d been found out. He was enjoying himself far too much, shocking her at every turn.

“Sirius Black was You Know Who’s most trusted servant,” Tonks whispered urgently as she leaned closer to Harry. “He betrayed your parents to their deaths.”

Just as Harry made to respond to that, James came floating out of Broomstix and made a beeline for Harry. “Why don’t you ask my dad who really betrayed them?” Harry gave Tonks a challenging look while he crossed his arms. By that point Sirius had reached them and Tonks lost whatever colour had been left in her face. Her sudden pallid complexion clashed horribly with her bright pink hair.

“Ask me what?” James said as he floated closer, giving Tonks a curious look. “Hello, I’m James Potter, nice to meet you.”

“Er…” Tonks swallowed a few times, gaze darting back and forth between Sirius and James, who stood amicably side by side. “I’m Doreen Jones. A pleasure to meet you, too.” Tonks seemed to take a few moments to gather herself, squaring her shoulders as she did so. “I was merely expression my concerns that Sirius Black is a convicted Death Eater.”

Sirius got an incredibly sour look on his face while James actually laughed, throwing his head back and everything. “I can guarantee, Miss Jones, that Sirius was never a Death Eater. He also never betrayed us, because Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper. Sirius did not kill him, nor any of those muggles. They died in an explosion caused by Peter while he scurried away like the illegal rat Animagus that he is.”

“Dumbledore wanted me gone so he could get at Harry’s money,” Sirius said while narrowing his eyes at Tonks. “So he gave me a sham of a trial, and had me convicted and executed so I was no longer in the line of people who would inherit Harry’s fortune before Dumbledore.”

“Wait, what?” Tonks’ mouth dropped open again. It had been doing that a lot in the past ten minutes. “Is that true?”

Harry nodded, arms still crossed, hip jutted out as he waited casually for Tonks to finally understand the bigger picture. “Hence why I rescued my godfather from beyond the veil. Of course, the good news is that he served his sentence in Britain now and that he’s officially a free man again.”

Tonks blinked, her pink hair growing a shade brighter. “That’s…actually true. He was convicted to be thrown through the veil, which he was.”

“Exactly.” Harry’s grin was full of satisfaction. “So even if Britain gets their knickers in a twist over Sirius living here, legally there is nothing that they can do. They convicted him and carried out his sentence. Case closed.”

“I suppose so, yeah,” Tonks agreed in a whisper, though she still looked rather dubious about the whole thing. Harry regretted not being able to see the faces of Bones and Fudge and Dumbledore when Tonks pointed this out to them. Still, he had family members who would be witnessing those moments and they would give Harry a detailed account, he was sure.

“See you later.” Sirius slapped Harry on the shoulder and then took off in the direction of the Irish Cock, James trailing after him.

“I was wondering,” Tonks said as Harry resumed their tour. “Can I just apparate out of here and come back?” When Harry gave her a questioning look, Tonks quickly added. “It’s just that I haven’t brought all my belongings yet. I wasn’t sure if I could move in right away.”

Harry smiled in response. It seemed Tonks was more than eager to report back to her superiors in person. “You can apparate out of the country anytime you like. But to be able to apparate back in, you’ll have to get a passport at the Ministry. It’s free to do so, just takes a few moments.”

“Thanks, that’s good to know. I’ll go there after you’ve shown me my new home.” Tonks asked a few more questions about the shops they passed and then about the homes as they walked into the residential areas. “So can anyone from Britain move here?” Tonks finally asked as Harry stopped in front of her new home. V flew up into the air and landed on the roof of the house so he could stare down at them with narrowed eyes.

“Anyone from the world, really. We’ve got something like fifteen nationalities already, and that number goes up every day.” Harry leaned against the wall that surrounded Tonks’ new garden. “As long as people are willing to abide by our rules they are welcome to live here. We accept all magical people, including squibs.”

“That’s good to know.” Tonks ducked her head and then offered Harry what looked like a genuine smile. “Thanks for the tour and for answering all my questions. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“It’s been my pleasure.” Harry tapped his finger against his temple in a little salute and then launched himself into the sky, much to Tonks’ obvious surprise if her sudden shriek was any indication. Harry laughed while V flew beside him as they sped over the many homes in the direction of his castle. It really was amazing to see how far Spellbridge and Magica had come already in such a relative short amount of time. Many people were working on their homes and their gardens, or flying broomsticks across the sky. Rigel sailed overhead again, followed by lots of very loud kids. Harry waved at them as he made his own way home across the green pastures.

The ball was now in Tonks’ court. Harry was sure she was going to give her superiors in the British Ministry a full report about all that she’d learned here. Which meant it was time to file all the paperwork Tom had prepared at the ICW.

Their days of secrecy were now officially over. Within the next few days they’d officially announce their existence to the world and Harry couldn’t help but wonder how all the other countries of earth were going to react to Magica.

Harry found Tom behind his own desk in the library. Tom had well and truly made Harry’s castle his home. Not that Harry minded, because he didn’t, at all. In fact, every time he saw Tom doing mundane things in Harry’s home, Harry felt a warm flush of emotions rise up in his chest. Having someone you loved occupying the same space as you did turned out to be a really nice thing, as Harry had recently learned.

“How did it go?” Tom asked as Harry leaned closer to press a kiss to his lips. V pecked at Harry’s ear in protest before sailing through the air to land on his perch. Tom had lots of sheets of paper spread out, full of notes on a variety of subjects. The more Harry got to know him, the more he realized Tom really was a certified genius who could easily work on any number of complicated projects simultaneously.

“As expected.” Harry sat down on the edge of Tom’s desk and gave him an even look. “I’m sure she’ll report to the British Ministry tomorrow at the very latest, so it’s time to announce our existence.”

Tom gave an agreeable nod. “Then I’ll send off the paperwork to the ICW first thing tomorrow.” For a moment, Tom got a thoughtful look on his face before he frowned. “Dumbledore is the Supreme Mugwump and he might very well try to disappear the paperwork if he gets his hands on it first. I’ll make copies and send them to various departments within the ICW to make sure this doesn’t happen.”

“Good idea.” Harry reached for some of the papers on Tom’s desk, moving them around a bit to get an idea what he was working on. “Looks like you’ve been busy today.”

“I’ve been working on a magic masking potion to use for our Azkaban project.” Tom fished out a few sheets with lots of formulas written on them that made little sense to Harry. “I’ve been trying to create a variation on an existing magic dampening potion that’s used to supress magic when treating certain magical diseases. The problem with that potion is that it only lasts a few hours. We need something that lasts for days, if not weeks.”

“Hm.” Harry frowned as he stared at Tom, remembering that they still did not have a complete plan on who to break out of prison. “Have you decided yet what to do with the Lestranges?”

Tom leaned back in his chair and ran both hands down his face in a gesture full of frustration and exhaustion. “We can’t simply let them loose in Britain and alert the Aurors to their location, as that would negate the whole plan to replace my Death Eaters with Polyjuiced muggles.”

“I could kill them,” Harry whispered, figuring he might as well offer to do so in case Tom had trouble killing his own followers. “It would be quick and painless. I’d just rip their souls from their bodies.”

Tom seemed to ponder that option for a moment while he ran his finger across his lips a few times. “That might actually be the more humane option, instead of simply leaving them to the dementors in Azkaban. Give me some time to consider it.”

“Sure.” Harry stood up from the desk and stretched his arms over his head. “I need to find some muggles who we can use to replace your followers.” He gave Tom a curious look. “Where would I find muggles deserving of death?”

Tom got a rather sinister smile on his face. “There are several wars being fought around the planet. I’m sure you’ll be able to find some war criminals that have committed atrocities against their fellow man.”

“That would work.” Harry shrugged and gave Tom a heated look. “How about we go to the bedroom and you give me a good fucking.”

“Why go to the bedroom at all when I can simply bend you over my desk,” Tom murmured as he stood up and grabbed Harry’s shirt to haul him in for a kiss.

“Not again, not again,” V cawed from his perch. He hopped around, turning his back to Harry and Tom while he clapped his beak in annoyance.

But no matter how much V protested, Tom still fucked Harry right there in the library, much to Harry’s pleasure. Afterwards, they had a lovely dinner in the kitchen where Violet served them a hearty meal of corned beef, cabbage and bacon and some mashed potatoes. Just as Harry and Tom sat down in the library again with some cups of tea, there was a knock on the door.

“Igor will let them in,” Harry said when Tom made to get up from his chair. “He is perfectly capable of showing people to the library.”

“Fine.” Tom sat back again and stared at the library doors, eager to see who it was. Moments later, Theodorus Nott walked through the door and gave Tom a short bow.

“My Lord, I wonder if you have time for go over some plans for a new magical school I’m designing?” Theodorus asked as Tom waved him closer. “And perhaps Mr Potter will want to give his opinions on the project as well.”

“Just Harry.”

Theodorus nodded. “Then please call me Dorus.”

“Gladly.” Harry got up from his leather chair near the fireplace, picking up his cup of tea along the way and gestured at Dorus to follow him to one of the large tables. Before he sat down he rubbed his thumb across his amulet and summoned Lily, James, Fleamont, Euphemia and Charis. He knew these members of his family had strong opinions on Hogwarts and its many faults, and Harry wanted to know their ideas for a new and improved version. Back in Sildar Harry had created a magical school from scratch, thanks to his family’s many ideas, but that school had been very different from what Magica needed. For one, the kids attending Magica’s school of magic would already have a solid basis in magic from being around it in their everyday lives. Back in Sildar magic had been an entirely new thing for most of the early inhabitants, so their educational needs had been very different.

Dorus gave no reaction when five translucent people suddenly appeared in the library. Serving Voldemort for many years had apparently taught him to mind his own business like a pro.

“We’re putting together Magica’s school for magic,” Harry said to his family by way of explanation while Tom and Dorus sat down at the table. “Violet, some tea for our guest.”

“I have been wondering if we can keep the tradition of the Hogwarts Houses,” Dorus said, barely reacting when a dead house-elf brought him a cup of tea. “Giving up Slytherin entirely seems like a huge loss somehow.”

“I know what you mean,” Tom said with genuine regret visible on his face.

“Those Houses have caused nothing but strife for the people of Britain,” Charis said with a frown as she looked between the three men at the table. “How many children haven’t been punished by their families for what a piece of enchanted headwear said about them when they were eleven.”

James gave Charis a look full of disbelief. “The Houses are a part of Hogwarts and have been ever since its founding.”

“That may be,” Lily said, floating closer to Charis. “But just because something’s been around for a long time doesn’t make it right. I agree that the Houses have caused far more unneeded competition and downright animosity than necessary.”

“We’ll divide students by year,” Harry said before a real argument could break out. “That’s what we did back in Sildar as well.”

Dorus frowned. “But then what will replace the students’ families throughout the schoolyear? The Houses were a way to give the students a sense of belonging while away from home.”

“Students won’t be away from home to begin with,” Harry said patiently. “Back in Sildar we gave students reusable portkeys to travel to school every day. That worked like a charm.”

Dorus looked as though he’d never expected to hear such a suggestion in his entire life. “You want to take away the boarding element completely?”

“It’s much better for students to spend time at their homes every day than being stuck in a large group of unruly students day in day out,” Lily pointed out.

“But it’ll be a lot less fun,” James muttered while giving his wife a quick, dirty glare.

“We’re not boarding kids when they have easy ways to travel to and from school, end of story,” Harry said, giving both his parents a dark look. This wasn’t the first time his family had this particular argument after all, and Harry didn’t feel like a repeat performance.

Dorus glanced to the side, clearly waiting to see what Tom would say about the whole matter.

“For some students the boarding option at Hogwarts was a necessity, to keep them away from unsuitable homes,” Tom finally said, eyes hooded as he gazed around the table. “But I suppose that the new Ministry in Magica is going to make sure that such children have appropriate homes to start with, so there won’t be a need for boarding at the school.”

“Very well.” Dorus made some notes in a leather notebook. “No Houses, no boarding. What do you want to see added to the school?”

“Core classes, such as English and Math,” Lily said at once before anyone else could react. “I’ve never understood why they aren’t taught at Hogwarts.”

“And all the magical classes that Hogwarts offers, naturally,” Tom said while Dorus kept taking notes. “Plus perhaps a few more advanced classes for the older years. Things like warding or healing.”

“That is a good idea.” Fleamont gave Tom a tentative smile and only now did Harry realize that his family really hadn’t spent all that much time around Tom over the past few weeks. Harry had, subconsciously or not, kept his family plenty busy with their spying missions and therefore away from Tom in the first place. “They could be extra electives, perhaps for NEWT students,” Fleamont added, much to Tom’s obvious approval.

“I’d also love to see more options for sports,” Euphemia said as she floated a bit closer to the table. “I know lots of people love Quidditch, but for those of us who aren’t inclined to spend all their spare time on a broom there were never any good options at Hogwarts.”

“It shouldn’t be too hard to create a magical assortment of sports kids can play,” James mused with a thoughtful frown. “You could enchant balls to be chased or you could transfigure an obstacle course or something like that.”

“All good ideas,” Tom said, much to James’ obvious surprise. He gave Tom a bit of a dubious look before he seemed to let the matter drop. Yeah, it was clear that Harry’s family still wasn’t completely sure what to make of Tom, especially now that he obviously didn’t act like Voldemort anymore.

Dorus kept taking notes with an agreeable smile on his face. “What should the school look like?”

“I built a castle back in Sildar to house the school,” Harry said while a wave of nostalgia washed through him. It had been a massive undertaking, young as he’d been at the time, to create such a huge structure by himself with magic. But ultimately it had worked out and the kids loved going to school in such a massive and majestic building. “I can draw up the designs I used back then and send them to you.”

“That would be welcome.” Dorus looked up from his notebook as though he’d suddenly realized something. “Having only day students would make staffing much easier. For one, we wouldn’t need a small army of house-elves to cook and clean.”

“I have plenty of house-elf inferi,” Harry offered, ignoring Dorus’ brief look full of distaste. “I could spare a few to keep the school clean and to cook up a lunch for the students every day.”

Tom bit his lip as though to keep himself from laughing outright while Lily and James got very constipated looks on their faces.

“What?” Harry demanded, looking between everyone with wide eyes. “They’re perfectly good servants, I’ll have you know.”

“I’m sure they are, dear,” Euphemia said delicately as she hovered a little closer to Harry. “But not everyone will be happy to have a bunch of corpses cook for their kids on a daily basis.”

Harry leaned back in his seat with a huff, crossing his arms while he glared at his family with a mulish frown.

“Just buy some living house-elves,” Charis snapped, not at all impressed with her great-grandson’s attitude. “And keep the dead ones to work the land where they won’t need to interact with the public directly.”

“Fine.” Harry gestured at Dorus. “Add buying some living house-elves to the list. We can always use some of the dead ones to look after the landscaping.”

“That would work.” Dorus sounded much happier, much to Harry’s chagrin. There was nothing wrong with inferi and he truly wished people would stop being so uptight about them.

Tom gave Harry a smirk, that absolute pillock, probably more than a little happy to see others denouncing Harry’s undead servants. Harry studiously ignored him.

“I believe I’ve got enough to get started on designing the school.” Dorus finished his tea and pushed his chair back. “How about we have another meeting in a few weeks?”

“That’s fine.” Harry turned around in his seat. “Igor! Come see our guest out!”

“Eurgh!”

Harry was damned if he was going to accommodate the people around him more than he was already forced to do when it came to his favourite servants. Igor shuffled into the library, grey face a blank mask.

“I’ll see you out, Dorus,” Tom said when Dorus seemed reluctant to follow Igor.

“Traitor,” Harry whispered as Tom strolled past him to see Dorus to the door. “Fine, then. Igor, bring me some wine!”

“Eurgh!”

Harry said goodbye to his family and dismissed them back to their spying job. He poured two glasses of wine and pointed one of them out to Tom when he returned to the library.

“It’s funny,” Tom said once they were again seated in their leather chairs in front of the fireplace. “How little attachment you have to Hogwarts and all the things that make it unique.”

Harry shrugged and sipped more wine. “I never went there. I know it from my family’s stories, of course, but I don’t feel any nostalgia for it that I can clearly see in you and Dorus.”

“For many of us, Hogwarts was a second home. A place where we grew up, where we made friends, and where we created the foundation of the people we ultimately became,” Tom said, his gaze distant as he stared at some point past Harry’s shoulder.

“I get that,” Harry said, recognizing that sentiment from his family whenever they spoke about their old school. “But for me it’s always just been a school in the end.”

“And perhaps that’s for the best.” Tom’s gaze became sharp again as he looked at Harry. “Perhaps that’s exactly what we need while making a new school, since it seems that our own sentiments towards our old school have made most of us blind to its many faults.”

Harry took a few moments to consider that. It would certainly explain why the people of Britain refused to change certain aspects that obviously weren’t doing the students any good in the long run, like the House system. “At least now we know,” he finally said. “And now we can build something better.”

++++++++

Severus was just done with the last class of the day when Dumbledore’s phoenix Patronus came flying into the classroom, urging him to come to his office at once. It didn’t give a reason but Severus was certain it had something to do with Potter or with the Dark Lord. Of course, Dumbledore still had no evidence the Dark Lord was back at all, but ever since Potter had taken the Dark Lord to the Yule Ball and passed him off as Voldemort’s illegitimate spawn, Dumbledore had been obsessed with this Marvolo Gaunt.

The Dark Lord had wrapped Severus up in so many Unbreakable Vows that there was no opportunity for him to hint at Dumbledore that Marvolo Gaunt was in fact the Dark Lord and thus Severus was forced to play along with the charade that there was a bastard child sired by the Dark Lord on the loose, making friends with their saviour.

Thankfully, the collapse of the castle had kept Dumbledore plenty distracted and the old man had yet to figure out that Severus simply wasn’t able to say as much as he otherwise would. Severus had no desire to find out what Dumbledore would do to him once he found out his spy was pretty much useless those days. Severus well remembered how easily Dumbledore had done away with Sirius Black. And while Severus had no love lost for Black, he had to admit that Black had always been a loyal follower of Dumbledore, and yet the old man had discarded Black like a mouldy slice of bread. Just tossed him right out.

Severus hurried through the castle, taking a few points from some unsuspecting Hufflepuffs who dared not move aside quickly enough. The moment he stood on the spiral staircase that brought him up to Dumbledore’s office, he heard raised voices coming from above. The door to the office stood open and Severus quickly closed it as the stepped inside the office.

Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, with Minerva standing to his right. Amelia Bones stood near a frowning Moody, with a pink-haired witch named Tonks standing between them. Severus well remembered Nymphadora Tonks from his classes and if she had as much talent as an Auror as she did as a Potions student the wizarding world was in serious trouble. Fudge was wearing his customary green bowler hat. Severus had yet to decide if Fudge truly had no idea how much that hat made him look like a buffoon, or if that was all part of Fudge’s clever plan to make the people around him underestimate him. Then again, the kind of regard the average person had for Fudge couldn’t sink much lower or else it would hit rock bottom, so perhaps the first option was the most likely and Fudge truly was a buffoon.

Beside the Minister for Magic stood a witch who radiated unpleasantness. Dressed in a pink cardigan, she gave everyone in the room a smile that somehow conveyed nothing but menace. She also had one of the most unfortunate faces Severus had ever seen on any living being, and that included any goblin Severus had ever met.

“Ah, Severus.” Dumbledore gestured around the room. “You know most of my guests, but allow me to introduce Madam Dolores Umbridge, Minister Fudge’s Undersecretary.”

Severus gave her a stiff nod, which she returned with equal enthusiasm, which is to say none at all. It was good to see she at least didn’t expect any false platitudes.

Dumbledore waved his wand around and conjured enough chairs for everyone. As the rest sat down, Severus remained standing, back to the windows. It was easier to draw his wand this way, as he’d learned from bitter experience during his days as a genuine Death Eater.

“The reason we’re here is because Auror Tonks is in the middle of an undercover mission and she has some urgent news to give us,” Dumbledore said before leaning back in his seat and gesturing at the young witch.

Tonks scooted forward in her seat until she almost fell off her chair, face flushed in a way that made her look rather blotchy. “Yesterday I managed to procure a portkey to Magica and Harry Potter himself gave me a tour of his new country.”

“Excuse me,” Minerva said, blinking her eyes rapidly. “Did you say 'a new country'?”

“Yes!” Tonks really was millimetres away from making an utter fool of herself. Well, more so than what she could accomplish by that atrocious hair colour alone. “Harry Potter is a Necromancer and he didn’t like all the restrictions on magic here in Britain so he made his own country where all magic is legal.” Tonks managed to get that out in a single breath.

“Harry Potter is a what?” Minerva gasped, clutching a hand to her chest in shock. “Lily and James’ child is a Necromancer? Are you sure?”

“A new country?” Fudge demanded. “Preposterous! There is nothing wrong with the country we already have!”

Umbridge narrowed her eyes, which shone with the same kind of malicious glint Severus had often seen in Bellatrix Lestrange. “If Potter is breaking the law by using illegal magic he should be arrested at once.”

“Weren’t you listening,” Amelia Bones all but snarled as she glared at Umbridge. “Potter created his own country. We have no jurisdiction there.”

“Where is this country located?” Dumbledore’s bushy eyebrows were drawn down in a heavy frown.

“Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean,” Tonks said, looking between all the people around her with wide, eager eyes. “In international waters. Potter mentioned they were going to file for independence with the ICW.”

“How many inhabitants are there?” Bones asked as she sat with a stiff back, glaring at Fudge and his dramatics.

“At least a few hundred, I believe. Mostly werewolves and muggleborns,” Tonks whispered. She might have said more, but Fudge cut her off.

“That boy can’t just make a country as he pleases!” Fudge sputtered, face reddening with obvious anger. “He has to obey our rules, just like everyone else.”

“That’s not even the worst,” Tonks whispered, face almost contrite. “Sirius Black is alive and living in Magica. Somehow Potter saved him from beyond the veil.”

The resulting reaction was loud and panicked and full of very real anger from just about everyone. If Severus wasn’t already aware of Black’s survival thanks to his few visits to Magica, he’d have probably become apoplectic with rage at learning that bit of information. Now he merely put on his darkest glower as he glared at Tonks as though this was all her fault.

“These are very worrying developments,” Dumbledore muttered, ignoring the cacophony around him. “Harry Potter is apparently a Dark Wizard without us having realized.”

Severus almost snorted at that. Anyone with eyes would have sussed out that Potter used dark magic on the regular five minutes after meeting him. But Dumbledore had apparently been so blinded by the whole Saviour Mythos, which Dumbledore had mostly been responsible for, that he’d refused to see the truth right before his eyes.

Potter was Dark and not at all concerned with the well-being of Britain. Potter also had a close relationship with the Dark Lord, though how close exactly Severus didn’t care to know. Potter would sooner kill Dumbledore than the Dark Lord, Severus was sure of it. He just couldn’t say that to Dumbledore.

“This won’t stand!” Fudge jumped up from his seat. “I want him arrested.”

“How?” Moody asked with a clear challenge in his voice. Of course, Severus now knew that was really Barty Crouch Jr, but that sort of recalcitrant reaction was not out of place for the old Auror at all. “Do you know how to get to this new country, Fudge? And if they’re filing for independence with the ICW you can’t just send Aurors there to arrest one of their citizens or you’ll cause an international incident.”

Fudge’s small eyes narrowed and he got a shrewd look on his face. “Potter will be here at the end of the month for the Second Task. We’ll arrest him then and throw him in Azkaban where he belongs!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 43

After a few more bold proclamations on how he was going to see Harry Potter thrown in Azkaban for life for daring to escape Britain and build his own country, Fudge stormed out of Dumbledore’s office, his simpering pink lackey on his heels.

“Fudge is a fool,” Barty as Moody grumbled, his good eye narrowing while his artificial eye gave a few aimless spins in its socket. Bones rolled her eyes in a way that indicated she was already well aware of that fact. “We cannot arrest the leader of another country without very good reasons. The ICW would eat our ministry alive.”

“Ah.” Dumbledore leaned forwards in his seat, looking very much like he knew something the rest didn’t, the conceited old tosspot. “But Harry’s new country isn’t officially a country recognized by the ICW yet.”

“Harry said they were in the process of applying for that at the ICW,” Tonks muttered, appearing thoroughly confused and just a bit shaken by everyone’s extreme reactions. Severus wondered if she even had what it took to work as an Auror, and an undercover one at that. What he’d seen of her so far in her job didn’t fill him with a lot of confidence.

“Paperwork can easily get lost, Miss Tonks,” Dumbledore said with an amused chuckle, eyes crinkling with obvious pleasure.

“Why?” Barty as Moody took a step closer to Dumbledore’s desk and leaned one gnarly hand on it so he could loom over the headmaster. “Do you really want to arrest Potter for no reason at all? Building a new country in international waters isn’t illegal as far as I know.”

Bones shared a knowing glance with Tonks, both apparently sharing Moody’s sentiment that there didn’t seem to be a true reason to go after Harry Potter at that time. Severus was thoroughly impressed that Barty as Moody was able to question just about every single one of Dumbledore’s suggestions without ever appearing out of character. Alastor Moody had always been a stickler for the rules, no matter how paranoid he became in his old age. The real Moody wouldn’t tolerate anyone, not even Albus Dumbledore, skirting the law to try to see an innocent man punished without reasons.

Dumbledore’s bushy brows drew down in a genuinely annoyed frown as he stared up at Moody. “Apparently Sirius Black, a convicted criminal, is on the loose in Harry’s country.”

“Sirius Black served his sentence,” Barty as Moody pointed out with a challenging grin that drew even more attention to the deep, disfiguring scars that marred his face. “He was sentenced to be tossed through the veil, which he was.”

Dumbledore seemed at a loss how to respond to that while he ran a hand down his beard. Then his eyes started gleaming again. “Harry Potter is a self-professed necromancer, Alastor. That is the darkest magic there is. He should not be allowed to lead anyone, let alone a whole country.”

Moody snorted and rolled his good eye while shaking his head. “I despise Dark Magic, as well you know, Albus. But in the end I’m a law enforcement officer for the British wizarding world. Do you know how many countries around the world allow Dark Magic? Do you know how many international leaders are Dark Wizards? Far too many, that’s what.” Moody took a few steps away from Dumbledore’s desk, as though to distance himself from his old friend and his unwelcome opinions. “I don’t bloody well care what anyone does in a foreign country, as long as they don’t do it on our shores. If Potter sets foot in Britain and performs Dark Magic, I’ll be the first in line to arrest him, but until he does I suggest we just leave the boy alone.” And with a huff Moody crossed his arms and gave Bones a questioning look, clearly wanting to see if she agreed with him.

Bones was a witch known for her unfailing sense of fairness, so Severus wasn’t at all surprised when Bones gave an agreeable nod. “Quite right, Alastor. As long as Potter doesn’t break our laws in our land, we will not arrest him, no matter what you or Fudge thinks, Headmaster. I for one am pleased that Mr Potter made the effort to not break our laws, first by actually studying our laws and later by creating his own country once he understood our laws were too restricting for his tastes.”

“I am deeply disappointed in both of you,” Dumbledore said, as though Moody and Bones were naughty schoolchildren that had been caught skipping class. Neither Moody or Bones seemed at all impressed by Dumbledore’s statement as they stared at him with blank faces. Dumbledore might have said more, but there was a furious knocking on his office door.

Filius Flitwick pushed the door open, clearly out of breath as he stumbled inside. “Albus,” Filius panted, rubbing a hand across his own chest as he tried to get his breathing back under control. “They’ve found remains.”

“What?” Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Filius.

“Human remains. Bones and long red hair.” Filius swallowed a few times before he could continue. “I believe it might be Ginny Weasley that they’ve found.”

Severus briefly closed his eyes. While he didn’t particularly care about the Weasleys, he did not like the idea of a student, any student, meeting their end in the school. He wasn’t sure what had happened to Miss Weasley, but he wouldn’t be at all surprised if the Dark Lord was somehow involved.

Bones, Moody and Tonks marched out of the office at once, followed immediately by Flitwick to show them the way to the potential crime scene.

Severus wanted to leave as well, to see what he could make of whatever was left of the missing Weasley, but Dumbledore stopped him.

“Severus, a quick word.”

Severus schooled his face into a blank mask as he gave Dumbledore a long look. “Headmaster?”

“I want you to find out what you can of Harry’s new country,” Dumbledore said with a dark look on his face, eyes shadowed and mouth drawn down. “See if Marvolo Gaunt has anything to do with its creation.”

“And when do you intend for me to do this? Do you expect me to follow in Miss Tonks’ footsteps and go undercover in Potter’s blasted land? I do have a full-time job teaching your students,” Severus couldn’t help but point out in a snappish tone.

“No, no,” Dumbledore said quickly in a placating voice while raising a hand in surrender. “Not right now, at least. Though perhaps over the summer you might like to take a holiday there, to see for yourself what Harry is up to. For now I merely expect you to keep your eyes and ears open, see if some of your old friends are unreasonably interested in this new country.”

“Certainly, Headmaster.” With a tight nod, Severus waited if Dumbledore had more to say. When the old wizard remained quiet, Severus stalked out of his office to go see about a dead student.

+++++++

Harry and Tom had just finished dinner in the kitchen of Harry’s castle when Charis came flying through the door.

“I have news,” Charis said with an urgent look. “About Fudge and Dumbledore both.”

“Let’s retire to the library. Violet, tea for two in the library, please.” Harry pushed himself up from the table, V hopping onto his shoulder, and he followed Charis, Tom not far behind. As they served themselves cups of steaming tea in front of the library fireplace they listened to Charis’ detailed report about Dumbledore’s meeting with Fudge earlier that day.

Harry laughed, long and hard, when Charis told him Fudge planned on arresting him and throwing him into Azkaban.

“I don’t see what’s so amusing about this,” Tom said while giving Harry a disbelieving look. “You can’t forfeit the second task or you’ll lose your magic.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry said quickly, still chuckling. “I have no plans of skipping the second task. They can arrest me all they want, but they won’t be able to hold me in Azkaban.”

“Of course they won’t,” Tom said at once, cup of tea clutched tightly in his hand as he leaned forward in the leather chair he was occupying. “I’d break you out at once.”

“That sentiment is certainly appreciated,” Harry said, still chuckling. What a corrupt mess the British Ministry turned out to be. Harry was doubly happy he’d created his own country and he wouldn’t have to deal with those bastards more than absolutely necessary. “But there are several ways I could leave Azkaban by myself. Open a portal, or walk through the deathlands. I can do those things without a wand.”

“That’s good to know.” Tom’s face relaxed a bit, his frown evening out. “I still suggest we make Project Azkaban our top priority. Get out the people we want to rescue as quickly as possible.”

Harry sat up and gave Tom a bright grin. “And once we’ve done that, we could simply level the whole building and do away with the dementors entirely! That way Fudge simply won’t have a prison anymore to throw me into. Problem solved.”

“Prison go boom, prison go boom!” V crowed from the back of Harry’s chair, hopping around in excitement. Apparently the unintentional collapse of Hogwarts had made V very fond of demolition.

Charis seemed terribly amused by that suggestion, but she managed to keep her composure as her eyes crinkled and her lips twitched.

Tom merely rolled his eyes, barely even looking at Harry. “You truly are a Gryffindor, Harry, with every fibre of your being. It matters not that you’ve never officially been sorted.”

“How is this a bad plan?” Harry demanded, honestly confused why Tom wouldn’t go along with causing some good old-fashioned destruction. V clapped his beak and lowered his head while he glared at Tom with narrowed eyes, clearly displeased as well.

“Because the British Ministry could take such an act to the ICW and call it international terrorism,” Tom said as he put his teacup down with far too much force, liquid spilling over its sides.

“How would they know it was us?” Harry muttered, hunching his shoulders a bit. He hated someone shooting down his awesome plans with reason and logic. Harry just wanted to cause a bit of destruction without anyone pointing out the consequences, thank you very much.

“Because you’re the only person in the entire world who’s ever destroyed two dementors, in public no less.” Tom looked at Harry with wide, disbelieving eyes and a rather tired look on his face. “Who else would it be?”

“Fine.” Harry stared off to the side, gaze fixed on the dancing flames in the fireplace. “We’ll leave Azkaban standing, for now. But it probably is a good idea to get your followers out as soon as we can.” Harry perked up again when something else occurred to him. “And while we break into Azkaban to give them the potion, I can learn its layout and study the wards, just in case I do get chucked in there anytime soon.”

“Fine.” Tom shook his head and then focussed his attention on Charis again. “Did anything else occur during the old man’s meeting?”

Charis told them about Barty as Moody’s rather successful attempts at calling Dumbledore out on his bullshit and about how the meeting was cut short in the end by the discovery of human remains in the castle’s ruins.

Harry nodded a few times, glad to hear that Ron’s family would finally get some closure.

“I wonder if the discovery of the remains might actually have some negative consequences for Dumbledore,” Tom mused with an eager glint in his eyes. “He’s already in hot water over the collapse of part of the castle. I imagine the knowledge that a student actually died there a few years ago isn’t going to do him any favours.”

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.” Harry shared an amused grin with Tom and then thanked Charis for her report before dismissing her back to her spying work.

Tom seemed deep in thought as he stared at the fireplace, a small frown on his face. “I believe I can shuffle a few things around in my agenda the coming days and spend most of my time finishing the magic masking potion.”

“The sooner, the better,” Harry mumbled in agreement. He truly wasn’t worried about what Fudge might try to pull during the second task. Then he realized that Fudge might very well try to have him arrested before the start of the second task, and risk Harry losing his magic by not letting him compete at all. A cold shiver swept across Harry’s skin and he gave Tom a worried look. “I need to break this fucking contract.”

“What?” Tom blinked at him in confusion.

Harry swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. The thought of losing his magic was more than Harry could handle. “I’d like to think I’m powerful enough to fight off Fudge and a couple of Aurors, but I’m also old and wise enough to know you should never underestimate an opponent. If Fudge tries to have me arrested before the start of the second task, he risks me losing my magic.”

“No, no!” V clapped his beak, hopping from the backrest to the armrest and looking up at Harry with beady, black eyes. “Keep magic, keep magic.”

Tom’s face paled considerably as he considered Harry’s announcement. “We cannot let that happen.”

“I know. Now how do I break the contract?” Harry’s entire body was taut with tension and he sprang up from his chair to pace across the library.

“I’m not actually sure.” Tom chewed on his thumbnail as he sat deep in thought. “The problem is that we’ve not ever seen an actual contract. It’s created by the Goblet of Fire. That’s what holds the magic of the contract.”

Harry stopped pacing at once and gave Tom a triumphant grin. “So I go and steal the Goblet of Fire.”

“Steal goblet, steal goblet,” V cawed as he danced up and down the armrest of the leather chair.

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” Tom answered Harry’s grin with one of his own, full of dark amusement. “Have fun. Don’t get caught. I’ll be in Gaunt Mansion working on the potion.”

“I should probably go right away,” Harry said, more to himself than to Tom. “There’s bound to be a lot of people moving in and out of the castle right now, so one more signature in the wards won’t stand out.”

“Take your invisibility cloak,” Tom suggested, which Harry appreciated since he’d all but forgotten he had the bloody thing. “And leave the bird here.”

“V go, V go.” V narrowed his eyes as he glowered at Tom, looking ready to fly at his face and peck his eyes out.

“No, he’s right, buddy.” Harry gave V an apologetic smile. He loved his companion but V was not well suited for stealth missions, especially when Harry had to spend all his time under his invisibility cloak. “I’ll be in and out in no time at all.”

V very demonstratively turned his back on Harry, beak in the air. Harry rolled his eyes and ignored his dramatic friend. He gave Tom a wink and a wave and hurried out of the library. He had to think for a few moments about where his invisibility cloak even was, until he remembered that he’d stashed it inside his satchel. He pulled it out and wrapped it around himself as he strolled out of his castle. Once through the doors, Harry apparated to just outside the gates of Hogwarts. It was dark already, but there were still plenty of people moving in and out through Hogwarts’ gates. Most seemed there to rebuild the castle, but Harry also spotted a few red Auror robes amongst the visitors.

Harry didn’t waste any time and hurried across the path and slipped inside the castle unnoticed. He spotted Bones and Tonks standing with a few official looking Ministry people near the stone staircase. Moody stood beside them and his fake eye spun wildly once it looked in Harry’s direction. Could that eye see through invisibility cloaks? Harry wasn’t sure, but he still grinned and waved in Barty’s direction before quickly moving along.

The Goblet of Fire stood on the pedestal in the Great Hall, still on display while the tournament was in progress, even though the goblet itself was cold and dark. There were a few construction workers sitting at the Hufflepuff table, enjoying a late meal. Harry made sure there was no one looking in his direction before he snatched the goblet from its pedestal and hid it under his invisibility cloak. Not a single one of the workers paid him any attention and no one seemed to notice that the goblet had suddenly disappeared.

Harry strolled out of the Great Hall, winked at Barty who he was now sure could see him. Barty’s mouth dropped open for a second as he saw Harry carry the Goblet of Fire out of the castle, but he quickly composed himself and went back to playing Moody.

Thankfully no one else spotted Harry and he was able to leave Hogwarts’ grounds at a quick pace. The second he passed the wards he apparated back to his castle.

Except he didn’t land in front of his own castle. He landed smack in the middle of the Transportation Hall just as he pulled the cloak off himself.

“Passport, please,” a young witch behind the nearby counter said. She had long, brown hair and her nametag on her shirt read ‘Joan’. Harry had never seen her before, he was sure.

“Er…” Harry licked his lips as he held the large goblet against his chest. He didn’t actually have a passport. “I’m the Governor. This is my country.”

Joan gave him a dubious look, obviously unsure what to do. “That might be so, Sir, but people travelling into Magica from abroad need a passport.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry sighed. “You’re absolutely right, Joan, but I haven’t had time yet to get a passport. I swear I live here. I made the bloody country.”

Joan, however, would not be moved and she shook her head. “Without a passport I cannot allow you entry, Sir. You need to leave again.”

Fucking hell. Harry considered just launching himself through the doors and into the air, but he didn’t want to freak out the obviously determined employee. Besides, he had to set an example, being the leader of the country and all.

“Harry?” Remus stepped out of one of the offices in the back of the hall. “What are you doing here?”

“He doesn’t have a passport,” Joan called out at once, obviously relieved the Head of Immigration himself had shown up. “I was just telling him to leave.”

Remus’ grin was entirely too amused. Harry just knew he was going to tell everyone he knew about this, and Harry would be hearing about it for weeks to come. “Oh, I think we can let Harry’s lack of passport slide just this once, if he promises to rectify that oversight first thing tomorrow. He is the Governor after all.”

“If you say so, Sir.” Joan still looked like she wanted to send Harry packing, but she was willing to let her boss have the final say, thankfully.

“I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience, Joan,” Harry said with his most charming smile. He studiously ignored Remus, who was still grinning like he hadn’t been this amused in months. “I’ll get that passport tomorrow morning, promise.”

And while still clutching that giant goblet to his chest, Harry all but ran out of the Transportation Hall. As soon as he felt the cool evening air he flew up into the sky. By the time he arrived at his castle most of his embarrassment had vanished and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing when he saw Tom walking towards him in the castle’s entrance hall.

“I was almost kicked out of my own country because I don’t have a passport. Also, someone needs to give Joan a raise, because she did her job very well.” Harry shook his head and then held up the Goblet of Fire while giving Tom a triumphant look.

“Actually, I’m glad this just happened to you, because I haven’t bothered getting a passport either. Let’s rectify that when the Ministry opens tomorrow morning.” Tom gestured at Harry to put the goblet down on the floor for a moment. “Take a few steps back and let me cast some spells on you to check if you’re even under a magical contract. That way we can verify if the magic is broken once we destroy the goblet.”

“Destroy?” Harry asked with a frown. Not that he objected to a bit of destruction, on the contrary, but he had imagined they’d be studying the goblet to find a way to break the contract, not just do away with the bloody thing entirely. Though now that he thought about it, he couldn’t help but wonder why they’d not considered doing that before.

“Goblet go boom, goblet go boom,” V cawed as he came sailing through the air to land on Harry’s shoulder. He puffed his breast out, feathers standing on end, as though he had come up with that genius plan all by himself. Considering V’s appreciation for demolition those days, he might very well have.

“I figured that’s the quickest and most efficient way,” Tom said with a bit of a shrug as he swished his wand through the air three times.

Harry started glowing purple. “What does that mean?”

“That you’re under a magical contract.” Tom marched out the castle, picking up the goblet as he went. Harry hurried after him while the magic around him started to fade.

“How are we going to destroy it?” Harry followed Tom through the darkness across the grass until they were a fair distance away from his castle.

“With something that destroys everything.” Tom gestured at Harry to step away from the goblet as he placed it on the ground. With a swish of his wand, Tom said, “Fiendfyre!”

A whole array of giant, fiery creatures burst from Tom’s wand and devoured the goblet. Harry saw a basilisk and a dragon and a giant bird of sorts. Their flames filled almost the entire night’s sky and between them they rendered the goblet to ashes in seconds.

Harry stared up at the impressive display of magic with wide eyes, his heart beating faster and faster. “That was fucking amazing. You need to teach me how to do that.”

It took Tom some visible effort to end the spell as the creatures writhed in a sea of flames to try to break free. But Tom persevered in the end and the flames died out, leaving only a trail of smoke in its wake. “The spell is not difficult to cast, but it is difficult to control. I’ll teach you, but not now.” Tom aimed his wand at Harry and cast the same spell as before. This time nothing happened.

“So the contract broke?” Harry asked with an eager grin, hoping with all his might that he was free from that ridiculous contract once and for all.

“It broke,” Tom replied with a satisfied smile. “You will not have to compete in the second task and Fudge, or anyone else, won’t be able to ambush you.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed. “I can’t believe it was that simple in the end. Just destroy the bloody goblet.”

“Yes,” Tom agreed while he stepped up to Harry and gave him a rueful look. “And I can’t believe we didn’t think of this earlier.”

“To be fair, we have been a bit busy.” Harry leaned closer and pressed a firm kiss to Tom’s lips. “I’m just glad that whole circus is over and done with. Now how about we go to bed and you show me how happy you are I won’t be losing my magic anytime soon.”

“How can I possibly resist such a tempting suggestion,” Tom muttered, eyes shining with amusement as Harry grabbed his arm and dragged him back to the castle, the small pile of ashes already forgotten.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast of oatmeal with stewed apples, Harry and Tom flew to the Ministry and got their passports sorted without much fuss. Thankfully no one mentioned that Harry had tried to enter his own country illegally by accident. As they stepped outside the building again, Tom turned towards Harry. “I suggest we still get Project Azkaban over and done with as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Harry agreed. Once the ICW processed their paperwork they’d probably be far too busy for a while to even think about breaking into Azkaban.

“I’ll return to Gaunt Mansion and continue with the magic masking potion.” And that is what Tom did the following days. Harry considered trying to help him, but the truth was that Harry didn’t know all that much about potions. He’d learned the basics from his family in his youth, but most of the ingredients that were used in potions in the wizarding world weren’t available in Santika, so Harry had never actually brewed any of them. And over the years, as he learned how to brew potions with the ingredients available in Santika, he’d forgotten most of what he’d learned in his early years.

So he would only get in the way if he hovered around Tom as he finished developing the magic masking potion.

Instead Harry spent his days checking up on his many projects. He spent time with Sabrina in the Ministry, making sure all the other departments were getting off to a good start. He also commissioned furniture for his own office and a few other offices from Claire and Erika. And he and Sabrina hired a few more assistants to man the office, freeing up Sabrina to work by Harry’s side as he moved around the island as needed.

Harry also spent an afternoon apparating around Britain in search of English Longhorn Cattle, which was easier said than done. It truly was a rare breed, as Harry quickly discovered. After being sent from farm to farm, he eventually came across on older farmer who was willing to sell Harry some of his small herd, since he was getting close to retiring anyway. Harry purchased two cows with calves, two steers, and two bred heifers. He still needed to find an unrelated bull but that would have to wait until later.

Sirius didn’t seem to care one way or the other when Harry opened a portal to his land and herded the cattle through. He did help Harry set up wards around his property, to keep the Longhorns in and the Highlands out. The cattle settled in quickly enough, since there was an abundance of grass to be grazed around Sirius’ land.

Harry then checked up on all the work his house-elf inferi had done, planting commodity crops around the island. Harry made sure all those fields were well warded, so none of the wild or domestic animals would ruin their crops while they sprouted and grew.

As Harry flew across the planted fields he noticed the construction of homes near the coast. Sebastian had hired more construction specialists who had started on building their second town, Hexport. It was amazing to see how quickly their country and its towns were growing. Every single day Harry saw new streets pop up in Spellbridge, with dozens of new residents moving in. Magica had come a long way already from its start when Harry himself had spent days and days creating homes one by one.

There was no mention of the missing Goblet of Fire in any wizarding publication. Harry wondered if anyone had even noticed it was missing at that point, since most people seemed to be focussed on the discovery of Ginny Weasley’s remains. It was confirmed that they were indeed her bones and the Daily Prophet had a field day speculating about what had happened to the poor girl and more importantly, who was to blame.

Dumbledore was raked over the coals more than once, while plenty of people openly questioned his suitability as the Headmaster of Hogwarts. After all, while he was in charge a student had died under mysterious circumstances while later the castle had collapsed. Harry loved reading all the articles calling for Dumbledore’s resignation during breakfast every day, though so far the Headmaster still had his job.

On the fifth day, Tom returned to the castle for dinner with a triumphant smile on his face. “The potion’s ready.”

“Excellent.” Harry gave Tom a grateful kiss. “Let’s break into Azkaban then.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 44

Later that evening, right before midnight, Harry and Tom left their castle and got ready to apparate to Britain. Tom carried a leather bag which held a generous amount of magic masking potion, and Harry checked to make sure he had his invisibility cloak stuffed in the pocket of his fur cloak. V hopped up and down a few times on Harry’s shoulder in nervous anticipation.

“For now, we’re giving the Lestranges the potion, just like everyone else,” Tom said as he stared off into the distance. “We pretend we’re planning to free them just like we’ll do the rest of my followers.”

“So they won’t give the whole game away as an act of vengeance,” Harry guessed in a quiet voice. He understood this must be very difficult for Tom, to basically betray some of the people who were once completely loyal to him. But Tom was no longer the Dark Lord he’d once been. These loyal followers would sooner turn on Tom than accept living peacefully among muggleborns and werewolves.

“Exactly.” Tom inhaled a deep breath and released it slowly, clearly torn by the decisions he was now forced to make. “And then next week, when we go to Azkaban to actually free the prisoners, I’d like you to take their souls and make it look like they died suddenly, perhaps as a side-effect of taking the potion. I’ll make sure I’ll look properly shocked and dismayed.”

Harry couldn’t hold back a chuckle, even though he knew Tom was being utterly serious about these plans. “Don’t worry. No one will notice me reaping their souls. They’ll just drop dead on the spot without anyone being any the wiser.”

“Thank you,” Tom whispered and held out his hand. Harry placed his own hand in it and without further delay, Tom apparated them to the east coast of Britain. “The approach towards Azkaban is warded against boats and brooms and flying carpets,” Tom said as a cold wind whipped around them, tousling their hair and ruffling V’s feathers. “But since everyone is convinced that wizards and witches cannot swim this far or fly without tools, it’s not warded against magical individuals.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, thinking it was rather stupid to not ward a prison against people sneaking in.

Tom gave him a wide grin, looking thoroughly amused by the Ministry’s incompetence. “It would make changing the guards too complicated. Wards that can filter individuals like that are complicated and very expensive to maintain. Ward Masters expecting to work around dementors demand a generous amount of hazard pay. So the Ministry bets on just the dementors to keep any unwelcome visitors away.”

“Yeah, those won’t be a problem for us.” In fact, Harry hoped some of the dementors would be foolish enough to attack them, so he could rip a few more of them apart. Those soul-sucking creatures, whatever they truly were, didn’t belong in the world, Harry was sure of that.

“Exactly.” And with that, Tom rose into the air and shot forwards into the dark, windy night. Harry followed at once, with V bringing up the rear. V cursed and complained because his light body had the hardest time flying against the wind, but he did manage to keep up as they flew across the choppy waves.

It took them perhaps an hour to make it to the wizarding prison. Azkaban loomed tall on the horizon, a crumbling black silhouette against the starry sky. The whole building looked rather decrepit, as though the dementors’ presence caused even the stone walls to decay.

They touched down on the rocky shores right beside a small pier. “We’ll step through the wards here, where the guards usually dock when they change shifts,” Tom whispered, urging Harry along quickly. “Once we’re through, we can fly up to the roof, where the ventilation openings are only protected by very weak wards.”

They did just that and before long they stood on a small piece of flat roof, right beside a larger, slanted roof covered in slate tiles. Tom flicked his wand a few times, easily dismantling the wards without raising any alarm. Then he enlarged the vent’s opening so it became wide enough to allow them through. Harry held V against his body with one arm as he followed Tom inside. They still had to duck as they crab-walked through the tight tunnel, but they soon came upon an exit that opened up into a dark corridor. V hopped up onto Harry’s shoulder the second Harry could stand upright again.

The stone walls around them suddenly developed a film of hoarfrost while the air around them grew colder and colder. Harry knew what that meant, and he stepped in front of Tom, holding a hand at the ready. A whole swarm of dementors rounded the corner, eager to confront the intruders. Without saying a word, Harry sent out his powers and felt the souls trapped inside the disgusting creatures. He yanked the souls right out of the nearest dementor, which had its rotting hands outstretched as it rushed towards him. The dementor exploded in a shower of grey flesh and strips of mouldy fabric.

“Demons go boom, demons go boom!” V cawed while flapping his wings in excitement.

At once, Harry did away with two more dementors. Only then did the other dementors stop their approach and hovered a few yards away. Harry sent his powers out again, to feel for the magic that these creatures might have.

“Let us pass,” Tom said in an even voice. “And no more of you shall have to perish.”

The essence of the dementors felt strangely familiar and Harry frowned as he reached deeper inside their powers. He’d felt them before, long ago, when he’d still been learning to walk the deathlands.

“Fuck me sideways,” Harry mumbled as he slowly lowered his hand. “These are demons from the other side.”

“What?” Tom looked at Harry with raised eyebrows.

“They don’t belong here,” Harry said, raising both hands to completely obliterate every single dementor in the entire prison. “My guess is that they came through the permanent portal to the deathlands that exists in the Department of Mysteries. They need to be destroyed.” And with that, Harry yanked the souls out of two more dementors, turning them into tiny pieces. He wanted to keep going, but Tom grabbed his arms and forced them down.

“Harry, you cannot get rid of every dementor right now!” Tom gave Harry an urgent look, his face a mask of determination. “We cannot draw that much attention to Azkaban while we’re implementing our plan.”

Swallowing against this bitter disappointment, Harry gave a slow nod. He knew Tom had a good point, but that didn’t mean that Harry wasn’t full of quiet frustration now. The dementors were soul-sucking demons that should never have left the deathlands, but some enterprising wizards had, once upon a time, carelessly opened a permanent portal to the deathlands and let them out.

“This is why the world needs Necromancers,” Harry said, staring the remaining dementors down until they floated backwards, away from him. “So that they can clean up the mess when idiots let demons out that should never have been freed from the beyond.”

“You won’t hear me argue,” Tom said in a soothing voice, apparently aware Harry was genuinely pissed off about this particular revelation. “But we can’t change anything about this tonight. After we finish our plan and get our people out of here, you can have your wicked way with every single dementor you can find.”

The dementors apparently understood enough English to comprehend what Tom was saying, because they fled the moment he was done speaking. The whole horde turned and hurried around the corner until none remained.

“Let’s go find my followers,” Tom said while Harry sighed in disappointment. “I doubt the dementors will disturb us again during this visit.”

They used a few spells to silence their footsteps as they walked across the stone floors and down the stone staircase until they came to the correct floor. A heady, dark feeling swept across Harry and it took him a moment to realize that Tom was sending out his own powers to alert his followers of his presence. Voices could be heard whispering and mumbling beyond the wooden door and they raised in volume the moment Tom pushed it open and stepped through.

“Master?” a man in rags in the cell to their right said. “Master, is that you? Have you returned?”

“My Lord!” a female voice screeched, which Harry guessed must belong to Bellatrix Lestrange. “My Lord, we remained loyal to you! We did not denounce you like so many others did!”

“Lord Voldemort knows what you did, Bellatrix,” Tom said as he casually walked down the corridor, as though he was out for a Sunday stroll instead of trying to organize a prison break. “I have come to give you all a potion, to make you appear ill. Next week, I will return and release you from this hell. I will replace you with muggles so we can fake your deaths.”

Bellatrix cackled at hearing that. Just as Harry approached her cell to take a look at her, she threw her head back, her matted curls spilling down her back while she bared rotting teeth as she laughed and laughed. Harry gently reached out with his power and took a good look at her soul. It was a dull, shrivelled, broken thing. Years of dark magic abuse and murder had mutilated it until it barely resembled a human soul at all. Yeah, Harry would feel no remorse taking her life in a week’s time.

Tom took his time talking to each prisoner while he gave them all a vial of the magic masking potion. Harry stood watch, keeping his senses alert so he could spot any approaching dementors or human guards, but no one bothered them. Harry guessed that the human guards must have nodded off in their quarters, and the dementors were probably far too spooked by Harry’s powers to approach him again.

After they were done with Tom’s followers, they moved down a level and talked to some of the prisoners there. They left any violent offenders alone, since Harry refused to let unknown rapists or murderers into his country. But there were also a couple of wizards and witches there who’d been convicted of using illegal magic that shouldn’t have been illegal in the first place. They were offered the potion as well and they all took it, eager to get out of there sooner rather than later.

On their way back to the vent from which they came, Harry said, “I’m going to close the veil portal tonight. It should never have been left opened like that in the first place. Who knows what else might come out of it, especially now that there’s an active necromancer around. I wouldn’t want my powers to accidentally summon a horde of demons from beyond the veil.”

“How do you plan on sneaking into the Ministry?” Tom asked with a sideway glance as they hurried through the corridors. “Because if your entrance is registered at the Ministry and minutes later the veil portal collapses, people are going to be drawing conclusions we can’t really use right now.”

“Hmm.” Harry grabbed a squirming V and held him against his chest as they tucked themselves inside the vent opening again. “The thing is, I don’t have to sneak into the Ministry. I just have to open a portal to the deathlands nearby and then I can probably dismantle the veil portal from the inside.”

“That would ensure no one can blame you for it, since no one would know you’ve been anywhere near the Ministry this evening.” Tom sounded rather satisfied by this solution. “I’ll come along and guard your portal while you get the job done.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Harry was grateful they found such an easy way to fix this rather glaring problem. They left Azkaban the same way as they’d entered it, and they flew back to Britain’s east coast without any delays. Once they touched down on the beach, Tom apparated them to London. They landed one street away from the Ministry where Tom quickly found a small office building. A few charms later, they let themselves inside without triggering any alarms.

“It shouldn’t take long,” Harry said as he started preparing the runic circle.

“I could come with you,” Tom offered as he took in every single thing Harry did with eager eyes.

“No, now is not the time for you to walk the deathlands for the first time,” Harry said, sounding a bit distracted as he put the finishing touches to the circle. “The first time you walk it, you should be by yourself so the Figures can judge you and your necromancy.”

Tom sniffed, as though being denied entrance to the deathlands was a personal insult to him. But when Harry glanced up at him in surprise, Tom quickly offered him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be patient,” Tom said, crossing his arms as he leaned back against a nearby desk. “And I’ll ward off any critters that try to escape your portal.”

“You don’t know the Patronus charm, do you?” Harry asked with a dubious frown, remembering Voldemort telling him so. The Patronus Charm was the only thing he knew would stop a dementor, aside from Harry’s necromantic powers.

“I still haven’t bothered learning it, no,” Tom said with a careless shrug.

“You might want to practice it while I’m gone. The incantation is Expecto Patronum. Think happy thoughts.” And with that, Harry opened the portal and stepped through it, into the deathlands. V took flight and soared ahead while Harry ran after him. The veil portal stood out like a beacon, a half circle of bright light in an otherwise grey world. So even from a distance, Harry could easily see it.

“Hurry, hurry,” V cawed, like he always did whenever they walked the deathlands. It was a decidedly unpleasant place, no matter if one was a necromancer or not.

They only encountered a few small demons that Harry easily scared off with a few simple spells. They reached the veil without interruptions and Harry took a moment to study the portal. It didn’t look too different from any of the portals that Harry always created, at least on a magical level. Someone had built a stone archway around it at some point, with a curtain of sorts covering the entrance. But ultimately, it was still just a portal, and portals could be closed. Harry started the ritual to do just that, and in the end it only took a few minutes to get rid of the portal once and for all. As the portal shrank and shrank, Harry saw and heard the stone archway crumbling. So the Unspeakables would find a pile of rocks in the morning, with no sign of a portal ever having been there in the first place.

“Let’s go, let’s go,” V cawed as he flew circles around Harry.

“Yep, right behind you,” Harry said the second the portal closed for good. But as he turned around, he noticed he was no longer alone. All around him, demons emerged. They stood at least twenty yards away, spread all around him as they stared at him with empty eye sockets. They were the size of an average human, though their bodies appeared like grotesque impersonations of what a human actually looked like, their limbs too long and their bodies too skinny. Their skin was grey and decaying and where their mouths should be they only had a toothless hole.

It was only now that Harry realized that these were essentially dementors without their cloaks. Or rather, that dementors were these demons with cloaks covering most of their form.

“Go, go!” V urged as he flew in a wider circle.

Harry reached out his power and sensed that a few of the dozen demons that had now gathered around him had consumed souls in the past. That was the only way Harry could destroy them, by ripping out the souls. He did so without delay, obliterating five of them, turning them into small pieces. But the other seven had no souls inside of them, and thus Harry couldn’t simply rip them apart. He quickly reached for his wand and cast a Patronus.

The silvery barok sprang out of his wand and circled him, opening its wide mouth at the demons, who backed away from the bright light. Harry started running, trusting his Patronus to keep him safe. The demons released a chilling shriek that might inspire madness in the average person, but Harry had heard it before. So he did his best to ignore it, even though it felt like his blood turned to ice in his veins. He ran across the deathlands, V cawing above him as he led Harry towards their portal. The demons were in hot pursuit, crawling on all fours and stumbling on two legs, reaching towards him with their rotting hands. But they never dared to come too close to Harry’s Patronus, even when more and more demons joined the horde.

Harry had never seen anything like it before. Sure, he sometimes encountered these demons when walking the deathlands, but only ever a handful, if even that. Now there were twenty following him, their numbers still growing as Harry ran across the grey interior of the Ministry. Could they sense Harry had killed some of their numbers that evening? Could they smell it, perhaps? Harry had no clue and now was not the time to find out. Harry was rather out of breath by the time he reached his portal. V flew through first and Harry threw himself out of it, landing on the carpeted floor with a thump. He stretched out his arms and pooled his magic around the portal, closing it as fast as he could. His barok Patronus paced around the portal until it was closed completely and then it dissolve into nothing.

“Was there a problem?” Tom asked, and only now did Harry look up at him from his position on the floor. Tom had his wand out and a familiar mist hovered in front of him. It seemed Tom had taken Harry’s advice and he’d been practicing the Patronus charm.

“Nah,” Harry said with a grin as he pushed himself up. “Just a bunch of naked dementors wanting to feast on my soul. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Tom shook his head and tucked his wand away. “I’m going to assume the mission was a success. Let’s go home.”

“Yeah, I’m knackered.” Harry brushed off his cloak while V landed on his shoulder. Then he accepted Tom’s outstretched hand and allowed him to apparate them home.

Joan was awaiting them in the Transportation Terminal. Those anti-apparition wards were really working well, it had to be said. “Passports, please,” Joan said, voice full of determination as she narrowed her eyes at Harry.

“Got it right here,” Harry said with a beaming smile, pulling his passport from his satchel. Tom also produced his passport and after a careful inspection, Joan let them through. They apparated back to the castle and Harry stumbled inside.

“That was more excitement than I’d counted on this evening,” Harry said, stretching his arms over his head. “Igor, wine for two!”

“Eurgh!”

“How about we take the bottle to bed?” Tom suggested, stepping closer to Harry so he could draw him into a long kiss.

“Excellent plan.” Harry smiled against Tom’s lips just as Igor came shuffling inside the entrance hall. “I could do with a good fucking to distract me from that little unpleasant adventure.”

“Your wish is my command,” Tom whispered and pulled him along up the staircase, Igor following them obediently.

Tom did manage to distract Harry thoroughly and they finished a glass of wine each afterwards before they fell into a much deserved sleep. Harry’s dreams were filled with chilling shrieks, as they always were whenever he encountered those demons in the deathlands.

“Harry, wake up!”

Eyes flying open, Harry sat up in bed, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Harry, the Ministry’s under attack!” Bernadine and Henry floated beside his bed, looking stricken, their translucent faces full of shock. “Dementors are swarming everywhere, attacking all they can.”

Light shone through the gaps of the curtains, so Harry guessed that it was morning and the usual commute of wizards and witches going to work had just started. “Were they naked dementors?” Harry asked, pushing the covers back, uncaring about his own nudity as he got dressed in a hurry.

“What?” Bernadine looked at Harry as though he’d just transformed into a dementor himself. “Why on earth would a dementor even be naked?”

“Okay, so they’re clothed.” Harry hopped around, trying to step into his boots. By then Tom was awake as well and quickly realized something was wrong. He jumped out of bed at once and reached for his trousers. “That means that they’re the dementors from Azkaban, and not new ones from the deathlands.”

“Are they at the Ministry, still?” Tom asked as he threw a shirt over his head.

Henry nodded quickly. “They swarmed the whole building, kissing who they could.”

“We didn’t dare linger,” Bernadine added, voice barely audible. “Because they could see us and they came straight for us.”

That wasn’t a surprise to Harry, since his family members were souls that he summoned from the beyond. Of course dementors could see them. “Stay here, where you’re safe. If any dementors show up on the island, come find me at once.” Harry turned around and looked at V, who was sitting on the headboard, ready to fly up to Harry’s shoulder. “You stay here, too, V.”

“V come, V come,” V crowed, clapping his beak.

“You are a piece of soul,” Harry said, uncaring that his family members were there to hear that particular fact. Harry had never told them exactly what V was, but now he didn’t care if they found out. “The dementors will come after you and I might not be able to protect you if there’s too many.”

V dipped his head, beady eyes narrowed. “V fight, V fight.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he picked up his fur cloak and slipped into it. “Nice sentiment, but you’re no match for a horde of dementors. Please stay here.”

Without saying a word, V turned his back on Harry. That was good enough for Harry. V might not like it, but he was at least willing to listen and do what Harry suggested.

Harry grabbed his satchel from a nearby chair and rushed out of the bedroom, Tom on his heels. “I’m guessing they’re pissed off since I killed a bunch of them last night and then closed their only way to get reinforcements.”

“Possibly,” Tom said, sounding like he didn’t care to find out why the dementors had gone rogue right at that time. Perhaps he was right, and they should save any investigation into their motivation until a later time. The second they stepped outside the castle, Tom apparated them to the visitor’s entrance. The red phone booth stood empty and they crammed themselves inside, wands at the ready.

“Stay behind me,” Harry said as Tom dialled the correct number and the booth started going down. “Cast your Patronus. Even a bit of mist will work against dementors.”

The atrium was empty save for half a dozen bodies strewn across the dark floors, their eyes unseeing as they stared up at nothing at all. Harry reached out with his powers and at once two dementors came shrieking around the corner, rotten hands outstretched. Harry yanked the souls out of them, exploding them in seconds. He didn’t bother to cast a shield to protect them from the bits of decaying flesh raining down but marched on. Tom did cast a Patronus at that point and kept his back to Harry as he held the whisp of mist in front of him.

They continued their trek deeper into the ministry and quickly came across a whole bunch of dementors, desperately clawing at something cowering in a corner. Harry yanked the souls out of them, too, and did away with five dementors. Once the flesh and fabric had stopped raining down, they saw a handful of people hunched together, one man with his wand out, a silvery weasel all that had been keeping the dementors at bay, and barely even that. Harry looked at the red-haired man and thought he might be Ron’s father.

“Stay here,” Harry told them with a firm gesture when it looked like they wanted to get up. “There’s more out there and they’re not playing around.” It was clear to Harry that the dementors knew their end was nigh and that they’d decided to go out with a bang. Good old vengeance on wizarding kind. Tom really should have let Harry go ahead and get rid of all the dementors the previous night, but that didn’t help them at that moment.

They found another cluster of dementors trying to get inside an office one floor down, where a blond witch was holding them at bay with a horse Patronus. Unfortunately, outside the office they also found three bodies of people who hadn’t made it to the safety of a Patronus in time. Harry did away with the dementors even as they tried to reach for him with desperate shrieks.

“I’ve never seen dementors act like this,” Tom murmured as he looked around with wide eyes. “They will usually back down once you cast a corporal Patronus, but not this time.”

“They know this is their only chance at feeding again before they cease to exist,” Harry replied as he walked down the hall only find it empty. “They cannot return home, they cannot stop me from destroying them, so this is all they have left.”

Harry and Tom continued their trek through the ministry, destroying every dementor they found. Eventually they came across Amelia Bones, who was keeping three dementors at bay with her owl Patronus. Harry pulled them apart with ease and then gave Bones a challenging look, as though he dared her to comment on the kind of magic he’d just used in front of her.

Bones, much to her credit, didn’t say a word about Harry’s magic. “Thank you, Mr Potter. How many casualties?”

“Dozens, from what we’ve been able to tell,” Tom replied, because Harry was busy trying to find the last few dementors he knew were still in the building. “But there were far more survivors than that.”

“Well, that is something, at least.” Bones, ever the pragmatic witch, looked at one of the Aurors she’d been shielding. “Parker, get in touch with Azkaban. Find out what on earth is going on. “Holstein, get me the registry of people who’ve visited Azkaban recently.”

They left her to it and made their way to the next level, where they found three bodies and the last of the dementors clawing at a door that was being patrolled by a silvery cat. Once the dementors were destroyed, they found Minister Fudge and a few others hiding there. Undersecretary Umbridge had been the one to cast the Patronus. Harry barely knew her, only remembered her as a very unpleasant witch he’d seen during Sirius’ farce of a trial.

“You’re welcome,” Harry said, sneering at Fudge and his flunkies. He still remembered that these people had happily executed his godfather for crimes he hadn’t committed.

“You!” Fudge puffed up in outrage once he recognized Harry. His cheeks reddened while his mouth opened and closed a few times. “You did this! You’ll pay for this, Potter!”

“The only thing I did was save your undeserving arses,” Harry said, turning his back to the Minister. Now that he could no longer sense any dementors in the Ministry, he wanted to find out what the hell had happened.

“Arrest him!” Fudge yelled as Harry and Tom walked away. No one listened to him, since there were no Aurors nearby.

They returned to the Department of Law Enforcement, where they found Bones barking orders. Mr Weasley was there as well, running around while he tried to organize a space where they could put all the bodies.

“Any idea what happened?” Harry asked as he and Tom approached Bones.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Bones said, narrowing her eyes at Harry in clear suspicion. “How did you even know there was an attack?”

“We didn’t know,” Tom said at once, voice as smooth as butter. “I’d finally convinced Harry that he should sit for his OWLs and NEWTs and we came here to register for them at the Department of Education. Imagine our surprise when we saw nothing but corpses littering the atrium.”

“Yeah,” Harry said with a wary sigh. “But now I don’t know if I even want to spend any time sitting exams here in the future, if this is how you run your Ministry. Soul-sucking demons aren’t a very welcome addition to the décor, I must say.”

Bones gave him a tired look, apparently not in the mood for Harry’s attempt at humour. Not that he could blame her. Lots of her colleagues had just been murdered and no one knew why.

One of the Aurors Bones had sent away earlier came hurrying back, a pale, trembling man in a blue uniform on his heels. His hair was grey and his face was wrinkled and he looked as though he wasn’t entirely sure if he was even alive or not. “Madam Bones, this is Mr Pluck. He’s the only Azkaban guard I could reach through the floo.”

“Mr Pluck,” Bones said, giving the man a quick onceover before summoning a chair for him to sit in. “Please tell us what happened. Why did all the dementors leave Azkaban?”

“Dead,” Pluck whispered, face paling even more as he sat hunched in his chair. “They’re all dead. I was the only one who could produce a bit of mist when I cast a Patronus. Everyone else is dead.”

“Who are you talking about specifically?” Bones asked, looking at Pluck with wide, alarmed eyes.

“Everyone,” Pluck said in a trembling voice, hands shaking on his lap. “All the guards and all the prisoners. Everyone’s dead.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 45

Mr Pluck’s terrifying proclamation was met by dead silence from all around him. It lasted for a long time as everyone looked at everyone else in disbelief. No one had seen this coming, least of all Harry.

“How is this even possible?” Bones finally asked as she ran a trembling hand across her cheek down to her throat. “Are you sure they’re all dead, Mr Pluck? Dementors don’t kill their victims when they suck their souls out.”

Before Mr Pluck could reply, Harry said, “They can if they speed up the proceedings.”

Even Tom gave Harry a questioning look at hearing that. “Please explain,” Bones said, narrowing her eyes at Harry. It was clear from her behaviour that while she might not have any proof, she seemed certain Harry knew more about the whole mess than he was saying.

Sighing, Harry absently rubbed a hand on his chest as he spoke. “When souls are ripped from a body quickly, the body dies instantly.”

“That’s what happens when one is hit with a killing curse,” Tom said quietly with a nod full of understanding.

“Exactly.” Harry glanced at the people around him, to see if they also understood this concept. “Usually, dementors remove a soul slowly, drawing out the process, savouring it. The body then remains alive for a while longer, depending on how much magic is left in the victim. But dementors can reap a soul quickly enough to kill their victims. This is what happened here, I’m sure. I doubt you’ll find anyone left alive.”

“But why would they do such a thing?” the young Auror named Parker asked, looking like he wanted to cry, his bottom lip trembling. “They worked for the Ministry. They shouldn’t have attacked us.”

“They only went along with the Ministry’s demands as long as it suited them,” Tom said in a voice that made it clear he found Parker to be terribly naïve. “They were never loyal to anyone here.”

Harry wisely kept his mouth shut, even when Bones gave him a searching look.

“Something must have set them off,” Bones muttered, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She bowed her head but once again glanced up at Harry. “Or someone ordered them to attack.”

“Are you accusing me, Madam Bones?” Harry asked, jaws clenched. He wasn’t about to let anyone utter any kind of accusations against him without a shred of proof. “Because I assure you, I did not order any dementor to attack.”

“Are you willing to repeat that statement under Veritaserum?” Bones asked, not at all impressed by Harry’s rising anger.

Harry whipped his wand out of its holster. “I can do better than that. I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic that I did not order the dementors to attack anyone in Azkaban or in the Ministry of Magic today. So mote it be.” A woosh of magic swirled around him, confirming the vow. Harry wordlessly cast his Patronus and the silvery barok loped around the room a few times before dissolving again.

Everyone stared at Harry with wide eyes, even Tom. Swearing on your magic was incredibly dangerous, because vows could be very tricky things. One never knew how certain words or phrases could be interpreted by the vow, so hardly anyone was willing to make them when their magic was on the line.

“Yes, thank you, Mr Potter, for clearing that up,” Bones said, and Harry could at least appreciate that she wasn’t giving him any false apologies about her earlier suspicions. Harry could well understand why she’d considered him a suspect in the first place. A powerful necromancer shows up out of nowhere and next thing the wizarding world knows the dementors go insane and murder innocent people left and right. If Harry had been in her shoes, he’d have been suspicious of himself as well.

“There he is!” Fudge said as he came storming up to them, his usual entourage following closely behind. “Amelia, arrest Harry Potter! He is behind this!”

“Cornelius,” Bones said with a tired sigh. “Mr Potter has just sworn on his magic that he had nothing to do with the dementor attack.”

That brought Fudge up short and he gaped at Bones. “Oh. Are you sure?”

“Yes, entirely.” Bones frowned and all but turned her back on Fudge. She clearly wasn’t in the mood to put up with the man’s usual incompetence. “Thank you for your help, Mr Potter. As you can see, we are in the middle of a crisis right now and don’t have time to entertain leaders of foreign nations.”

Well, that was a dismissal if Harry had ever heard one and he shared a knowing smile with Tom. “Send us a message if you need our assistance,” Harry said with a short nod at Bones. “Magica’s resources are at your disposal during these trying times.” Tom also gave a nod and then they headed for the exit.

Fudge gave Harry a faint sneer but otherwise ignored him. “We have to get on top of the press,” Fudge said as Harry and Tom slipped past him out of the door. “I could lose my job if they spin this the wrong way.”

As they walked out of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Harry thought that there was a very good chance that Fudge might lose his job over this mess, no matter how the press brought the story out in the open. Fudge was ultimately responsible for the Ministry and Azkaban. Something had gone horribly wrong under his leadership, so the right thing to do was for him to resign. Harry doubted Fudge would do such a thing, so the Wizengamot would probably end up voting for his immediately dismissal.

Ah well. Not Harry’s problem. He had his own country to run.

Tom was unusually quiet as they walked through the hallways and up a few flights of stairs. There were still bodies lying on the floor here and there, but there were also plenty of witches and wizards levitating other bodies towards a makeshift morgue. Harry wondered if Tom blamed him for any of this. Harry had brutally obliterated a handful of dementors, which probably helped to set them off in the first place. Then again, Tom was the one who had verbally signed the dementors’ death warrant right in front of them.

When it came down to it, they were both to blame, at least as far as Harry was concerned. He had no idea what Tom was thinking, because the man kept his mouth shut. He barely even looked at Harry. They used the visitor’s entrance and once they reached the street, Tom apparated them back to Magica.

An older wizard sat behind the counter of the Transportation Terminal and Harry and Tom produced their passport without even being prompted.

“I’m going to spend the afternoon at Gaunt Mansion,” Tom said, still not looking at Harry as they walked out of the building. The moment they were outside, Tom launched himself into the air and was gone in seconds.

Yeah, Harry wasn’t going to chase after him when Tom obviously wanted to be alone. So Harry flew back to his own home, where V was eagerly awaiting him.

“What happened, what happened?” V demanded from his spot on the chandelier the moment Harry opened the heavy door. “Where is Tom, where is Tom?” V took wing and sailed down to land on Harry’s shoulder, pulling on a few strands of Harry’s hair in greeting.

“The rest of you is currently moping in his own home,” Harry said as he scratched V’s feathery breast. “Though whether he’s pissed off at me or at himself, I haven’t a clue.”

“Stupid man, stupid man,” V concluded with a clap of his beak. Harry grinned at him, wondering if V even realized that he was essentially insulting himself. Perhaps he did, and simply didn’t care.

It was just past noon, according to the grandfather clock in the entrance hall. Harry thought about going down to the kitchen for lunch, but he didn’t have much of an appetite. He felt restless yet listless as he stood in the hall, unsure where to go and what to do.

“Tea, tea,” V insisted, pulling on some more of Harry’s hair.

Harry really could do with some wine, but perhaps day drinking wasn’t a good idea when he may or may not be having his first fight with his significant other. So tea it was. “Violet, please bring me tea in the library.”

Once Harry was seated in his favourite leather armchair, a steaming cup of tea in his hand, he allowed himself to relax a little more. He really had bollocksed this all up, hadn’t he? Dozens and dozens of people had been killed because he’d been careless, that’s what it came down to.

Harry hated failing at anything, but especially when it resulted in lives lost. He’d made mistakes, plenty of them, back when he’d been in charge of Sildar. But none of those mistakes had resulted in so many lives lost all at once.

No, this time Harry knew he was to blame and he wasn’t sure what to do with that knowledge. It sat like a heavy, bitter rock right in the middle of his chest, pressing on his heart. He considered visiting Sirius, perhaps talk to him, but no, Sirius might judge him. Sirius had been against the whole Azkaban breakout from the start, so Harry imagined that his godfather wouldn’t find it difficult to blame Harry for this whole mess. As he probably should.

No, in the end, there were only two people Harry really wanted to talk to. It was funny, in a way. Here Harry was, a century and a half old, and he still needed his Mum and Dad to comfort him from time to time. As he brushed his thumb across his amulet to summon his parents, Harry wondered if that sentiment would ever go away.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Lily asked the moment she appeared. “Severus had just been summoned by Dumbledore about something happening in the Ministry.”

“What?” James asked, looking between Harry and Lily a few times. “What happened in the Ministry?”

“Dementors attacked,” Harry whispered as he sipped his tea. “They killed a few dozen people before I destroyed them all.”

“Oh, darling, that wasn’t your fault,” Lily assured him as she crouched down beside his chair.

“But it was.” Harry had to swallow a few times against a hot lump in his throat before he could tell his parents about what exactly had happened.

“I can’t say I regret all the Death Eaters meeting their end,” James said, arms crossed and a defiant look on his face. “Good riddance, as far as I’m concerned.”

Lily ignored her husband and kept her focus on her son. “You didn’t intend for anyone to get hurt, sweetheart.”

“But they did,” Harry muttered, turning the empty tea cup in his hands around and around as he stared off into space. “Lots of people got hurt, because I fucked up.”

“You can’t control everything,” James said with a quiet chuckle. “I know this is hard to believe, Harry, but even you, powerful as you are, cannot control the actions of every living thing around you. At some point you’re just going to have to accept that you’re going to fuck up. Everyone does.”

Yeah, Harry knew that in theory, but in practice it was a lot harder to accept when there was a Ministry littered with corpses because Harry couldn’t plan two steps ahead to save his life. “I think Tom blames me, too,” Harry whispered, finally confessing what probably bothered him the most about the whole mess.

Lily narrowed her eyes, ready to come to the defence of her child at once. “If he does, he’s a toerag.”

“Toerag, toerag!” V cawed in agreement, hopping up and down the headrest of Harry’s chair.

“From where I’m standing, he holds more blame in this than you,” James said with a firm nod, sounding as though he brooked no argument in this from anyone. “You should probably just break up with him.”

Harry rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help a smile from pulling on his lips at his father’s rather obvious attempt to get rid of Harry’s paramour.

“Just talk to him,” Lily said quickly, scowling at her husband. “Ignore your father and just tell him how you feel. You know that good relationships start with good communication.”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry sighed and poured himself another cup of tea. He wanted to talk to Tom, but he wasn’t going to chase the man down, demanding his attention. He wasn’t a bloody teenager. Tom would come to him when he was ready to interact with him again. For now, Harry would allow him the time Tom needed to come to grips with what had happened.

The rest of the afternoon, Harry spent drinking tea and telling his parents about everything else that was happening in Magica. Right before dinner time, Sabrina stopped by.

“Would you give me a quick interview about what happened at the British Ministry today?” Sabrina asked, a notebook and quill at the ready in her hands.

“Sure,” Harry said and gave her the sanitized version of events, sticking to the story they’d told Bones. It was only now that he realized that there were probably at least a few inhabitants of Magica who had just lost a loved one in the Ministry that morning. “Perhaps we should have an extra town meeting tomorrow evening?”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Sabrina said as she scribbled in her notebook. “I’ll include it in the article. People will want to hear from their leader in the face of such loss.”

Harry nodded and walked Sabrina to the door. Sabrina strolled down the path towards Spellbridge as dusk fell around them. Harry looked in the direction of Gaunt Mansion but he detected no figure walking or flying in his direction. It seemed that Tom wasn’t coming home for dinner. Harry closed the door, his stomach full of regret and sorrow. He still didn’t have an appetite, but he forced himself to eat one of Violet’s pork pies in the kitchen. Afterwards, he decided he might as well go to bed, since it had been a long day.

Harry had a soak in his bathtub but he was far too distracted to enjoy the hot water like he usually did. So he dried off and crawled into bed, pulling the covers up all the way to his chin. It was funny how quickly Harry had gotten used to sleeping beside another person. Now that said person wasn’t there, Harry couldn’t find the rest he needed to actually fall asleep.

The door to the bedroom creaked open, letting in some light from the oil lamps in the upstairs hallway. Tom snuck inside without saying a word and started undressing himself. He still ignored Harry when he slipped under the covers and turned his back to him.

Sighing, Harry rolled onto his back. Yeah, he understood that Tom might need a bit of time for himself to deal with everything, but Harry wasn’t about to put up with any silent treatment in his own home. “I’d much prefer it if you just told me to my face that you blame me, instead of this passive aggressive bullshit that you’re pulling now.”

Tom also rolled onto his back and turned his head to stare at Harry. “I don’t blame you,” he said and then released a shuddering breath. “I blame myself.”

“Toerag, toerag,” V cawed from the headboard, ruffling his feathers in Tom’s direction.

“I’m quite sure we both fucked up,” Harry offered, because he didn’t think it was fair for Tom to shoulder all the blame. “We both could have done things differently, but neither one of us intended for any of this to happen in the end.”

“That’s not…” Tom swallowed audibly in the near darkness. “I’m not used to not being the Dark Lord anymore. When I spoke in front of the dementors, I assumed they still feared me as they did during the first war. But I’m not Lord Voldemort anymore and the dementors knew that and it cost me a few people I considered friends once upon a time.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Harry said because he only now realized that Tom had suffered personal losses that day. To Harry all the victims were anonymous casualties. Their murders were regrettable, but they were not of personal interest to Harry. But Tom had lost friends.

“I’m not sure who I even am anymore,” Tom mumbled, sounding as though he was talking to himself far more than he was to Harry. “This morning, in the ministry, I was practically useless because I couldn’t even cast a Patronus charm. It’s absurd.”

“I’ll help you learn,” Harry said quickly, because he hated how despairing Tom sounded. “It’s really not that difficult to learn. You’ve got more than enough power.”

“And then what?” Tom asked him, eyes opened wide but staring at nothing. “I’m a Dark Lord who no longer demands any respect or obedience. Before, the dementors wouldn’t have dared to touch any of my marked followers.”

Harry reached out a hand and placed it on Tom’s arm to offer him some quiet comfort. “Perhaps you need to establish your new identity without relying on people fearing you.”

“Perhaps,” Tom whispered, though he didn’t sound convinced at all. “I am simply lost right now. I don’t know who I am and I have lost some of my oldest friends because I forgot I am no longer Lord Voldemort.”

Harry blinked as he realized something. “If we can get our hands on some of the bodies within the next day or so, I can probably resurrect your friends.”

Tom sat up at once, staring down at Harry with widening eyes. “Could you? Truly?”

“I should be able to,” Harry said, before raising a hand to cut Tom’s reply off. “Unless the souls were damaged by being devoured by a dementor. I’ve never resurrected a soul like that, so I cannot be sure.”

“I could procure one body and we could try it out first thing tomorrow,” Tom said, his voice full of hope again. “Dolohov only has one elderly brother. I should be able to convince him to release the body to me. Or else I’ll just use the imperius curse.”

“That’s the spirit,” Harry said with a chuckle, glad to see his partner shed some of the grief that had cloaked him before. “You get the body and I’ll get the ritual room set up. If Dolohov’s resurrection is a success, we’ll do the rest as soon as you get those bodies as well.”

Tom rolled closer to Harry and pressed a firm kiss against the corner of his mouth. “We could even offer resurrection services to those who have perished in the Ministry. It would be a daring way to ensure people’s acceptance of Magica, if we can give them back their loved ones who died before their time.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said with a snort, though he wound his arm around Tom anyway to pull him into a hug. “I’m sure Fudge won’t mind that at all. He’ll probably claim I orchestrated the whole ordeal just so we could steal his citizens, dead or alive.”

Tom leaned his cheek on Harry’s shoulder as he burrowed closer still. “We can decide tomorrow, after we bring back Dolohov. Now let’s get some sleep. I’m truly exhausted.” Neither one spoke anything else as they waited for sleep to claim them.

After a quick, simple breakfast of scrambled eggs on toast, Tom went out to procure Dolohov’s body while Harry prepared the ritual room. He was quite surprised when Sirius strolled into the dungeon, a paper clutched in his hand.

“Intruder, intruder!” V crowed as he turned around on Harry’s shoulder to glare at the newcomer.

“Your dead butler let me in,” Sirius said by way of explanation when Harry looked at him in shock. “What the fuck happened at the Ministry? James told me a bit last night already, but he insisted I should let you get an early night in.”

“Basically, the dementors got wind that I planned to destroy them in the near future and they staged a revolt that ended in lots of people dead,” Harry said matter-of-factly as he went back to his work. Having a clear goal in mind to undo some of the damage certainly helped keep his previous melancholic mood at bay.

“Merlin’s sweaty socks,” Sirius muttered, rubbing a hand vigorously across his face. “Those fucking things. But they’re all gone now, aren’t they? The dementors?”

“Yep, and there won’t be any new ones immigrating here either,” Harry said absently as he tapped various runes with his wand. “Since I closed the portal in the Department of Mysteries.”

Sirius shuddered, probably remembering his very brief time in the deathlands after he’d been tossed through the veil. “And what are you doing now?”

Harry turned around to give Sirius a happy smile. “Resurrecting some of Tom’s friends. He’s getting one of their bodies, so I can hopefully put their soul back into it.”

Sirius blinked. “If you’re bringing back my crazy cousin, I’m cursing you, Harry, just so you know.”

“Nah, not her, don’t worry.” Harry gestured at the Daily Prophet in Sirius’ hand. “What’s the paper saying?”

“That there are 71 casualties, including the whole of Azkaban’s population,” Sirius said with a shrug that did nothing to rid him of the obvious tension in his shoulders. “They’re demanding Fudge step down since he obviously had no control of the dementors. Fudge is trying to blame everyone but himself, you included. Dumbledore’s saying it’s Marvolo Gaunt’s fault, though he couldn’t provide any evidence for his accusations.”

Yeah, of course Dumbledore would seek to blame Voldemort’s spawn, no matter any evidence to the contrary.

“Was there anything in the paper about the Department of Mysteries? And the collapse of their veil portal?” Harry asked with a small frown, wondering if the Unspeakables had even reported that event to Fudge yet. Or perhaps the Unspeakables had been so busy with the fallout of the dementor attack they themselves hadn’t even noticed the collapse yet.

“No,” Sirius said with a curious look at the paper. “Nothing about the veil.” He stared at Harry, his grey eyes full of stormy emotions. “Did you really do away with that bloody veil?”

“Really,” Harry told him in a calm voice, understanding that this must be bringing back lots of traumatizing memories for his godfather. “It’s gone and it’s never coming back. I promise.”

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut. “Good fucking riddance.”

“Toerag, toerag!” V cawed, announcing Tom’s arrival.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Sirius said with a wrinkle of his nose, clearly not interested in seeing a dead body being brought back to life. He hurried out the dungeon, studiously ignoring Tom and the wooden box he levitated behind him.

“I got Dolohov’s body.” Tom enlarged the box and levitated it into the ritual room.

“Put his body in the middle of the circle. It’s only been twenty-four hours, so the body should still be in good enough condition to resurrect.” Harry rubbed his hands together, focussing his magic as Tom got the body situated. “I’m going to summon his soul and then guide it back into his body. It shouldn’t take long.”

Harry brushed his thumb over his amulet to summon Dolohov’s soul. Harry had briefly met the man when he was still alive and he had his body laying on the stone floor in front of him, so summoning the right soul wasn’t difficult.

Dolohov’s translucent form looked twitchy and vaguely frayed. Harry frowned as he looked Dolohov up and down.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked, clearly realizing something was going on by Harry’s reluctant reaction.

“This will sound funny, probably, but Dolohov feels wrong,” Harry said, carefully extending his powers all around Dolohov. “He feels dead.”

“That is funny, considering the circumstances,” Tom said in a dry tone of voice, giving Harry an unimpressed look while he curved an eyebrow.

Dolohov’s soul twitched again a few times, as though it was flickering in and out of existence.

“Was his soul damaged by the dementors?” Tom wondered out loud.

“That seems to be the case. Dolohov’s soul did spend time inside of a dementor. Who knows how it was affected.” Harry shrugged, unsure what to do, if anything. He’d never seen a soul like this before. “Well, let’s bring him back and see what happens.” Harry cut his hand with a small knife and smeared blood over a specific set of runes, activating the whole ritual room. He wrapped his power around Dolohov’s soul and pushed it into the waiting body. At once, the body started convulsing, limbs flailing in all directions.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Tom asked with a dubious frown.

“No.” Harry leaned over the body and smeared a streak of his blood across Dolohov’s cold forehead, so he could get better control over the resurrection magic inside of the body. Dolohov’s eyelids sprang open, revealing bloodshot eyes. His lips drew back from blackened teeth and he released a chilling shriek Harry had only ever heard in the deathlands before.

“Fuck,” Harry whispered right as Dolohov jumped up, pushing Harry aside and launching himself at Tom with outstretched arms. Harry pulled his wand out and cast a silent Patronus. His silvery barok jumped between Tom and Dolohov, but much to Harry’s shock and horror, Dolohov barged right through the barok and pushed Tom to the ground, following him down. A blast of wild magic from Tom threw Dolohov back to the other side of the ritual room again, where Dolohov crouched down, eyes now dripping blood while his mouth remained opened as though it could physically not be closed again. Dolohov’s shrieked again, body twitching before he launched himself forward once more.

“Fiendfyre,” Tom said, wand aimed at the thing in front of him as he crawled back to his feet on unsteady legs. Harry ducked out of the way of the monstrous flames, quickly joining Tom’s position as they watched Dolohov’s twitching and shrieking body burn to ashes. Tom drew the flames back into his wand while sweat beaded on his forehead, and he released a deep sigh when all that remained was smoke and ashes.

Harry waved his own wand around to ventilate the dungeons, drawing the smoke outside of his castle. “So,” Harry said while his own body trembled now that the adrenaline was ebbing away. “I think it’s safe to say that dementor victims cannot be resurrected.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 46

Harry poked at the pork pie on his plate with his fork, staring straight ahead. They were having lunch in the kitchen but Harry didn’t have much of an appetite for some reason he didn’t quite understand.

Things had gone to shit over the last two days. And Harry hated when things went to shit. Absolutely despised it. Didn’t know what to do with himself when such a thing occurred. Resurrecting the dementor victims had given Harry some hope that he’d be able to correct some of the mistakes he’d recently made, but that morning's disastrous attempt at returning Dolohov to life had proven Harry wrong.

Harry had lived for such a long time and had mastered so many different kinds of magic that he truly wasn’t used to something not working for him, especially when it came to necromancy, and this failure bothered him in so many ways that his mind was fully occupied with it without any room being left for any other thoughts.

“I’ve finally got you figured out,” Tom said, swallowing his last bite of pork pie. Apparently there was nothing wrong with his appetite and he’d already cleaned his plate, though overall he also seemed more subdued than usual.

Harry arched an eyebrow, not even sure if he had enough energy to give a verbal reply. Had Tom actually figured something out or was he simply trying to lighten the mood? Though why he would even try to was a mystery to Harry, since Tom had just lost his friend Dolohov for good thanks to Harry’s failed resurrection attempt. Harry poked at his pork pie again with a regretful sigh. He loved Violet’s pork pies, he really did, but his stomach might as well be made out of solid rock. Harry doubted he could fit even one forkful of food in there.

Tom placed his fork down and sat back in his chair, giving Harry a look that clearly showed that he was feeling enormously satisfied that he’d uncovered the answer to one of Harry’s secrets. “I also finally understand why you prefer dead servants over living ones.”

That made Harry sit up a bit, unable to ignore his own curiosity. “Do tell.”

Tom’s smug little smile morphed into a shit-eating grin. “You’re a control freak. You are unable to deal with the idea of not being in control of your direct environment.”

Harry narrowed his eyes a bit, unsure if he should feel insulted or not. He’d never really thought of himself as someone who was desperate to be in control. “What’s that got to do with my preference for undead staff?”

“Because an inferius will do exactly what he’s told without argument. Living staff need managing and then might still go against their orders in some way.” Tom shook his head in an obviously fond gesture. “It’s rather amazing that someone with the chaotic energy that you carry with you and who is unable to properly plan a single thing is at heart so desperate for control.”

“Yeah, I hate to disappoint you, darling, but I don’t agree with your assessment of my character,” Harry said, sticking his nose in the air while giving a disdainful sniff. “Are you sure you’re not projecting? You’re the one who ripped his own soul apart to be in control of his mortality, after all.”

Tom wasn’t deterred by Harry’s attempt at shifting the focus. “And you made a whole new country because you disagreed with the laws of the land. How is that for a need for control?”

Frowning, Harry actually considered Tom’s words instead of dismissing them out of hand. It was true that Harry liked things going his way. He was used to it, after having created his own country back in Santika. “Still not sure that makes me a control freak,” Harry finally muttered while giving Tom a short glare.

Tom replied with an elegant shrug. “I suppose this condition stems from your rather unfortunate upbringing. Being a slave would have anyone desperate for control of their own destiny.” Tom held up a hand when Harry looked about ready to explode in his face. “But it takes one to know one, as the saying goes. My childhood was a nightmare as well, which is probably the reason I’m also very fond of having control over all facets of my own life.”

Harry sat back in his chair a bit and glanced up at the ceiling, carefully mulling over Tom’s words. It was true that Harry had grown up without any say in his own life, first at the Dursleys where he was kept in a cupboard as an unwanted burden, and then later in Santika where he’d been a literal slave unable to escape until Karakas decided to take his own life.

“What has happened has happened,” Tom said, this time with a gentle smile. “There is no turning back the clock and undoing any of the events of the past few days. The best thing to do is to accept that.”

“I know,” Harry sighed, shoulders drooping just a bit. “And I hate that.”

“Control freak,” Tom said, tone clearly teasing.

V, who had been polishing off the majority of Harry’s pork pie, stared up at Harry with beady eyes. “Control freak, control freak.”

Harry gave his feathery friend a soft shove, causing V to flap his wings so he wouldn’t fall off the table. “You two are absolutely the same person at heart. There is no doubt about that anymore.” Tom’s teasing smile made Harry oddly envious, that his lover could apparently cast aside their failures so easily. “How are you not pissed off at me right now? You’ve lost all your friends and followers for good. There’s no bringing them back.”

Before Tom could reply, a shimmering wolf burst through the kitchen wall and spoke with Remus’ voice. “Harry, we have visitors. King Malik and Queen Yumna of the Kingdom of Mutapa are here to see you on some urgent matters.”

Harry stared at the wolf in utter shock as the Patronus dissipated, leaving no trace behind. “What the hell is Mutapa?” Harry asked as he looked at Tom with wide eyes. Harry was no expert in this world’s geography, but Lily had made an effort to teach Harry at least a little bit about the most prominent countries when he was younger. Yet Mutapa didn’t ring any bells.

Tom looked equally as surprised but he recovered far quicker. “The Kingdom of Mutapa is a wizarding country in the southeast of Africa. The muggle part has changed into Mozambique over the years, but the wizarding part still bears the original name.”

Pushing his chair back, Harry straightened his linen shirt and stood up. “All right. Then I suggest we don’t keep them waiting.” He quickly cast a Patronus. “Please escort the King and Queen of Mutapa to the Ministry building, Remus. We’ll be there momentarily.” The silvery barok jumped through the wall to deliver the urgent message.

Tom also got up and followed Harry out of the kitchen. They made a quick stop in the downstairs bathroom where they freshened themselves up with a few simple spells and then they flew towards Spellbridge. Harry considered asking Tom if he knew what their visitors wanted, but he realized that he had probably more experience dealing with royalty than Tom did. And Harry could guess that their visitors merely wanted a piece of what was a very good deal as quickly as possible before the masses discovered Magica.

“Behave yourself,” Harry whispered the second V landed on his shoulder after they touched down. V clapped his beak but otherwise kept silent, thankfully.

Once they made it to Harry’s office inside the Ministry building, Harry was relieved to see that Sabrina had taken their royal visitors under her wing and provided them with at least some refreshments.

“Your Majesties,” Sabrina said, getting up from her seat the moment Harry walked into the office. “This is Harry Potter, Governor of Magica, and Marvolo Gaunt, head of the Department of International Affairs.”

King Malik got up to give them a small bow. He looked to be in his fifties and wore white, open robes over a bright yellow and green shirt and trousers. “Apologies for our unannounced visit, Governor Potter, but we come with urgent news about your application at the ICW.”

So it was as Harry and Tom had feared. Someone was probably meddling in their affairs and Harry had a good idea who that person was. “You are most welcome here, Your Majesties, especially when you come bearing important news.”

Queen Yumna chuckled at that. She remained seated, but she still had an air of strength and power around her. She wore a very bright, colourful dress that accentuated her dark skin perfectly. Her hair was done up in many small braids which reminded Harry of his old friend Valdis, who’d always had a similar hairstyle. “You might not like what we have to say, Governor Potter,” Queen Yumna said as Sabrina conjured chairs for Harry and Tom.

“Any news is important to know when you run a country, good or bad,” Harry said diplomatically, lowering himself onto his seat.

Tom also sat down while giving the couple across from them a genial smile. “We had expected world leaders to contact us eventually. You might be happy to know that you two are the first ones to do so.”

King Malik finally sat down again and grinned in response, looking entirely unrepentant. “As it happens, one of our subjects moved to Britain some years ago for love. A few months ago they got the opportunity to relocate to your unique country and they sent us a letter telling us all about it.”

That was a very diplomatic way of saying that Mutapa had spies everywhere, but Harry ignored that information. He’d dealt with enough foreign leaders to know that having spies in every imaginable country was expected. And who was Harry to judge others for using spies when he had his entire extended family keeping an eye on every prominent witch and wizard in Britain. “You are fortunate to have such loyal subjects,” Harry said with an understanding nod. “We would like to hear whatever you came here to share with us.”

King Malik’s face became utterly serious at once. “We know you applied for independence at the ICW, yet there are those that would see your bid fail.”

“They are lobbying quite extensively with other members to give your application a negative vote,” Queen Yumna added, folding her hands in her lap. “We believe we may have found a way to ensure your application is passed without problems.”

Harry raised his eyebrows while he shared a quick glance with Tom. Harry was certain it was Dumbledore who was lobbying against them, so that wasn’t a surprise. Having leaders of another country come to them with a solution, however, was. Harry knew enough about politics to understand that meant that whatever solution King Malik and Queen Yumna were going to suggest would benefit them as well. Quid pro quo.

“We’d be delighted to hear your suggestions,” Tom said, sounding genuinely eager while he leaned forwards a little.

“You made this country, yes?” King Malik gave Harry an intense look, dark eyes slowly narrowing. “You made the actual stone and rock right here in the sea.”

“I did,” Harry said, wondering where this was going.

“And you could do it again, yes?” King Malik couldn’t hold back a bright smile.

Ah. Harry finally understood where this was going and he had to admit that it wasn’t a bad idea at all. “I could.”

Queen Yumna cleared her throat as she sat up a little before giving Harry a regal nod. “When the colonizers came to our lands they brought their religions with them. Our muggle brothers and sisters used to accept witchcraft. They did not fear magic. But the white priests told them to fear it, told them to not accept any witch or wizard in their midst. Now the colonizers are gone but that fear remains. Like a cancer it has spread through the lands, growing and corrupting everyone around us. Even now they will brutally kill anyone they suspect of using magic.” Queen Yumna inhaled a deep breath, briefly closing her eyes. “When the muggles eventually discover us, we have much more to fear than you do here in Europe.”

Harry nodded in understanding. “Having a country like Magica would mean the difference between life and death for you and your people.”

“Not just for our people,” King Malik said in a soft voice. “For all the magical people in the whole of Africa.”

Tom had a downright shrewd look on his face. “I suspect that this doesn’t just go for Africa, but for every occupied continent in the world.”

“Exactly so.” King Malik nodded in agreement, clearly relieved that so far their ideas were not being dismissed. “And that is how you will win against the lobbyists. By promising every continent its own magical country, so we will all be safe once the muggles learn about our existence.”

That was ultimately a small price to pay, Harry figured. “I can easily create the rock foundation for a new country in international waters, one for each continent. I will even include a guide on how to dress up the land, make it into a living ecosystem, but you would have to do that part yourselves.”

“Of course,” King Malik said at once. “We have plenty of talented people who can turn bare rock into a lush and beautiful land.”

Harry exchanged a long look with Tom, who seemed happy enough to go along with these suggestions. It certainly was an easy way to ensure that not only would Magica be officially recognized as its own country, but that it wouldn’t be overrun with people should the worst happen when the muggles got wind of the wizards amongst them. There would be several magical countries to offer the global magical community a new home if need be.

“Would you like a brief tour of our country?” Tom asked with a charming smile. “We can walk to my mansion and have dinner there while we figure out the details.”

Before long Harry and Tom led their guests out of the Ministry building and into the centre of Spellbridge. “Our population has grown exponentially,” Harry said as he walked side by side with Queen Yumna, Tom and King Malik bringing up the rear. “We can barely keep up with the construction of new houses.”

“How do you decide who gets to live in which house?” Queen Yumna asked as she took in the newly constructed Gringotts building. There was a large pamphlet stuck to the heavy doors that the bank would officially open the next Monday.

Harry explained their housing system in detail as they made their way to town square. They drew a few curious looks from some shop owners and people passing them by but they easily ignored that.

“How will you deal with all the different nationalities?” King Malik asked as they arrived in Walnut Lane.

“All nationalities are welcome,” Tom said, gesturing at the homes around them. “But we are an English speaking country. Though perhaps in the future, we might create a few towns geared towards certain nationalities, to make people feel at home when they’ll be forced to leave their countries of origin behind.”

King Malik clasped his hands behind his back while giving a thoughtful nod. “When do you believe the muggles will discover us?”

“That’s impossible to say,” Tom replied in an even tone, though his expression hardened noticeably. “But at the rate the muggles’ technology is developing I doubt it will be more than a decade before they’ll invent some technology that’s going to pick up on magic. And once they’re able to do that they’ll have no problems detecting all our wards that are designed to keep them out.”

“Yes,” King Malik sighed. “I have spoken to many of my colleagues from all around the world and the majority feel that we will not be able to keep hidden very far into the future.”

Tom made a noise of agreement. “All the more reason to make sure Africa has its own magical land to move its people to before the muggles can start a genuine witch hunt.”

Queen Yumna spoke next while giving Harry a reassuring smile. “We will speak to all of our colleagues and ensure their votes for your independence.” They had reached the border of Spellbridge and followed the cobbled path into the wild meadows. “Tell me, Governor Potter, how you got all this growing in such a short time.”

Harry gladly explained their use of weather magic and runes for rapid growth as they strolled across the meadows towards Gaunt Mansion. At that moment, King Malik and Queen Yumna were rapidly becoming some of Harry’s favourite people in the entire world. Because they’d come up with a solution that not only would help Magica gain official independence, but would ultimately also help to save wizardkind as a whole. It was hard to remember why he’d felt so defeated just an hour ago when Harry was now feeling so utterly relieved that the whole inevitable confrontation with the ICW was probably already in the bag. And all Harry had to do was make more land, which would take him some time but no more than that. It was hardly even an effort at all, all things considered.

Even that evening’s town meeting concerning the rogue dementor attack no longer filled Harry with absolute dread, because he now had some genuinely good news to share with their citizens as well.

“Dobby!” Tom called out as they entered Gaunt Mansion. “Please serve us a dinner for four in the main dining room.” He then led them towards a large room with a long, gleaming dining table standing in front of floor to ceiling windows with a view of the ocean.

Just as they were seated, Dobby popped into the room, several glasses and bottles of wine floating behind him. Dobby served them all a glass of white wine while leaving the bottles of red wine to breathe so they would be ready to serve with the main course.

Queen Yumna narrowed her eyes as she followed Dobby around the room with her gaze. “Is that a free elf, Mr Gaunt?” she asked the second Dobby popped away again.

Tom got a slightly confused look on his face. “He is magically bonded to me, as all house-elves are in our culture.”

“That is a problem,” Queen Yumna said, face twisting up in clear distaste.

“How so?” Harry asked, taking a quick sip of his wine. “I was confused as well with this system, but I have asked house-elves if they wanted to remain magically bonded and they all said they did.”

“How can you expect slaves to want freedom when they don’t even understand what freedom looks like for them?” Queen Yumna said, sounding like a stern mother reprimanding her stubborn child. “In most of the rest of the world, house-elves are free beings as laws against slavery have been enacted. Only Britain and France and a handful of other European countries hold on to these outdated views on enslaving sentient beings for their own gain.”

Harry sat very still in his chair, feeling as though someone had just poured a glass of ice water down his back. He remembered living under the assumption that there was noting wrong with his circumstances when he’d first arrived at Master Karakas’ school. He’d loved it there and he’d been genuinely happy. If someone had asked him then if he wanted something to change about his life, he would have vehemently denied it. Granted, he’d only been a child, but it had still taken some effort from his friends and family for Harry to understand he was an actual slave and that life at the school was far from perfect. That being free was the best option, no matter what price he had to pay for it.

Was this how house-elves felt? Were they stuck in a system they thought was the best they could get because they had no one to show them otherwise? Apparently in other countries, where this kind of slavery was illegal, they were perfectly happy being free.

“No matter your personal opinion on the slavery of sentient beings,” King Malik said with a thin smile that seemed mostly diplomatic. “Having slaves will exclude you from gaining independence at the ICW. Countries like Britain have been grandfathered in thanks to some serious political manoeuvring on their part once these new laws were enacted. But it is clearly written that any new countries must abide by all international laws and that includes the absence of any sentient slaves.”

Tom blinked as he stared off into space for a moment. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to include those laws in our own constitution as well.” He briefly closed his eyes before he released a humourless chuckle. “Though how Lucius is going to take the news he’ll have to start paying his house-elves is anyone’s guess.”

“Thank you,” Harry whispered as he glanced at Queen Yumna, still feeing out of sorts by the revelation he’d just had. It genuinely disturbed him that he’d gone along with a form of slavery so easily after only questioning it once. He of all people should have known better. “We have a town meeting this evening. I will enact that law at once and inform our people.”

“Thank you, Governor Potter.” Queen Yumna’s smile was a lot warmer now that Harry had made these promises.

Harry returned the smile with one of his own until something else dawned on him. “Your Majesty,” he asked urgently. “These laws only pertain to living sentient beings, right?”

Queen Yumna looked politely confused. “I am not sure what you mean, Governor Potter.”

“I mean… let’s say someone were to take dead house-elves and reanimate them and then put them to work… would those be considered slaves, too?” Harry scooted forward in his seat in eagerness to hear the answer to that. He really did not want to give up his house-elf inferi army. They were just so bloody useful.

“Those would not fall under the anti-slavery laws. But should your country have laws against necromancy, then it might be a problem.” Queen Yumna’s tone was light and her eyes were bright with quiet laughter, and Harry wondered if she’d deliberately played dumb just now just to see him sweat.

“Good. That’s very good.” Harry released a deep, relieved breath and was tempted to tease Tom about his choice of living servants now that they would officially become illegal. Harry was more than a bit chuffed to know that his undead staff were perfectly acceptable on the global political stage. More or less.

V, who had been surprisingly quiet so far, hopped up and down his perch and cackled in Tom’s direction. Harry couldn’t help but wonder if V had just had the same kind of thoughts about their choice of staff as Harry had. Tom ignored V with a vengeance and instead made some small talk with King Malik about the kind of wand cores used on the African continent.

The rest of the diner went smoothly, without anymore life changing bombs dropped in their laps. Dobby served them scallops and mussels for a starter, followed by venison filet in red wine sauce with roasted vegetables and potato gratin, and for desert they were treated to several flavours of homemade ice cream with fresh fruit. They all enjoyed the excellent meal while talking about Magica and Mutapa, and its many similarities and differences.

After Dobby cleared the dishes and served them cups of coffee, Tom told him to stay for a moment and then conjured a blue sock.

Dobby released a squeak and wrung his spindly fingers in the tea towel he wore. “Has Dobby been doing something wrong? Dobby will do better, Master!”

“You’ve been brilliant,” Tom quickly assured him with a smile he was obviously making as kind as he could. “I do not have time to explain everything in detail right now, but I want to keep you as my elf, Dobby. I want you to keep working for me, but as a free elf. I will pay you and you’ll get a few days off. You’ll be able to come and go as you please then.”

Dobby wrinkled his nose at the mention of pay but otherwise seemed mostly relieved to still have a home to work in. “Dobby wants to stay. Master Gaunt is being a good master to Dobby.”

“I’m glad to hear that, though from now on you should probably refer to me as your employer.” Tom gently handed Dobby the sock and the poor elf couldn’t hold back a quiet sob as he accepted it. “You’re still my elf,” Tom reassured him. “You still work here. We’ll work out the rest of the details tomorrow.”

Dobby nodded, still overcome with emotions as he clutched the sock to his narrow chest, and he popped away without another word.

“It will take some adjusting for everyone involved,” King Malik said, looking most satisfied with Tom’s actions. “But they will adjust and in the long run they will be much happier for it.”

Harry knew from personal experience that the King was probably right. “Your visit has been most welcome,” Harry said once they’d finished their coffees. “But we have a town meeting scheduled for this evening and we cannot keep all our people waiting, I’m afraid.”

“We understand completely.” King Malik got up from his chair and everyone else followed his example. “You have been most kind and courteous to receive us so unexpectedly. We will keep in touch. Do let us know when the ICW summons you for the official hearing. In the meantime we will speak with our colleagues on your behalf. Can we use a portkey from this location or do we have to return to the transportation hall?” King Malik produced a small wooden disk from his robe pocket, which Harry assumed was a portkey.

“You can portkey from outside my personal wards.” Tom escorted the royal couple out of the mansion and after a few more heartfelt words of gratitude and promises of future partnerships, King Malik and Queen Yumna activated their portkey right outside the gates of Gaunt Mansion.

Tom turned to look at Harry at once. “Are you okay to lead the meeting right now? I can do it if you’re too overwhelmed.”

Harry waved his concerns away. “I appreciate the offer, Tom, but I’ve been leading my own country longer than you’ve been alive. I can do it.” And he could. Harry was used to pushing through and getting his work done even during moments when things didn’t go his way. No matter how much Harry wanted to sit in a steaming bathtub right now and empty a bottle of wine by himself, he had a job to do and he would do it, end of story.

Leaning down to give him a brief kiss, Tom whispered, “No matter what went wrong these last few days, some thing has also gone very right. We no longer have to worry about Dumbledore’s machinations at the ICW. Magica is as good as independent.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, briefly basking in that rather unexpected victory. Then he remembered it was time to go to the meeting and talk about the dementor attack in public. Well, that was the essence of life, wasn’t it? Dealing with all the crap while you basked in the small victories. It’s what Harry’s entire life had come down to when you really thought about it. Probably everyone’s lives for the most part.

“Ready?” Tom asked, and when Harry nodded he launched himself into the sky towards Spellbridge. Harry was right behind him and they made it to the town hall in record time. The place was already packed with more people filing inside at a steady pace. V landed on Harry’s shoulder and hunkered down as Harry gently pushed a way through the crowd to get to the other side of the room where Sirius, Remus and a few other officials already stood waiting on the small podium.

“We were worried you wouldn’t make it,” Regulus said by way of greeting when Harry and Tom climbed onto the dais.

“Did the visit go well?” Remus asked with a curious curve of his eyebrows. He was probably one of the few people who knew the identity of the unexpected guests Harry and Tom had been entertaining that afternoon.

“Very well,” Harry quickly said with a reassuring smile. “I’m sharing some details during the meeting.”

Sirius waved his wand around and released a few bangs to quiet the crowds. “Harry’s here. Let’s hear what he has to say. There’ll be time for questions later.”

Inhaling a deep breath, Harry looked out of the small sea of people in front of him. All were looking at him with anxious expressions and a thousand questions burning in their eyes. As much as Harry wanted to share the good news of their upcoming independence, he realized that was not what his people needed at that time.

“Dear citizens of Magica,” Harry said and at once Tom cast a Sonorus on him to make sure everyone could hear him. “First, my condolences to all who have lost loved ones, friends and family during the tragedy at the Ministry and Azkaban.” Harry paused a moment and solemnly bowed his head. “What we know right now is that the dementors went rogue and murdered everyone at Azkaban, prisoners and guards alike. Only one guard managed to make it out alive. Then the dementors moved to the Ministry, where they were met with some resistance from those witches and wizards who could produce a Patronus. Unfortunately they were able to murder some who could not.”

Harry spotted a few people in the crowd openly crying or dabbing at their eyes with a handkerchief. Some of his people had suffered personal losses by the looks of it, which reminded Harry he needed to create yet another new thing.

“For those who have lost someone, know that you will be able to bury them on Magica if you so wish. A cemetery will be constructed tomorrow at the foot of the mountain.” Harry looked around until he spotted the people he needed. “Sebastian, I ask you to create whatever structures are required, such as some walls and gates, perhaps a few benches here and there. And Rachel, I trust that you’ll make it a beautiful place with plenty of trees and flowers where we can lay those dearest to us to rest.”

This news seemed to have a positive effect on the people, all things considered.

“What about the dementors?” someone shouted. “Are they coming here? Should we be worried?”

“The dementors have been destroyed,” Harry said at once, making sure to square his shoulder so he radiated confidence and strength. The last thing he wanted was for his people to live in fear of creatures that no longer existed in their world. “You are safe here.”

“What caused them to attack?” someone else asked loudly and at once plenty of other people started murmuring amongst each other, sharing all manner of theories.

Harry raised his hands to ask for silence. “The British Department of Magical Law Enforcement are investigating the tragedy. We offered our help on behalf of Magica, but so far they have not accepted our offer. I’m sure that in due time we will learn what happened.” Harry hated lying but over the years he’d learned that it was better to tell the odd lie to keep the peace than to always insist on the truth and have a rebellion on your hands. What the people didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them and all that.

As Harry observed the crowd he realized that now was not the time to share his news about Magica’s independence. He might address that in an upcoming town meeting. But there was one other important thing that couldn’t wait, because it could derail their recognition as an independent country altogether.

“There is one important new law I have to share with you all, though the circumstances are not ideal.” Harry looked around the hall and recognized a few faces of people he knew kept house-elves. Theodorus Nott, Lucius Malfoy, Corban Yaxley and of course Sirius and Regulus. Well, they were in for a surprise.

Harry inhaled a deep breath and said, “As of today it is illegal to keep house-elves enslaved in Magica. They all need to be set free. They can keep working for you, but they will be free beings who are paid for their efforts.”

“The fuck, Harry?” Sirius blurted while giving him a wide-eyed look full of shock and surprise.

“This is preposterous,” Lucius snarled from where he stood beside Regulus. “You cannot demand we free our servants!”

“Kreacher won’t survive this,” Regulus muttered with a shake of his head. “Harry, this is ludicrous.”

“The Notts have had our line of house-elves bonded to our family for over seven hundred years. I consider this theft of a family asset, Potter.” Theodorus looked like he was prepared to duel Harry right there and then.

Harry sighed, hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. To think that he could have let Tom handle all of this nonsense while Harry happily got drunk in his own cosy castle. As Harry raised his head again he met Tom’s steady gaze, which gave very little away. Still, Harry couldn’t stop himself from getting one last jab in while he recalled their earlier conversation. “This is why I actually prefer my staff to be dead. Far less drama overall.”