Curiosity

Harry slowly regained consciousness.

He waved his wand, muttered 'Tempus' and saw that it had only been about half an hour since he had parted ways from the other Slytherins.

Since it was a Sunday and the sunset was still a few hours away, they must be enjoying themselves on Hogwarts ground. 

However, even though he had promised to see them in some time, he didn't have the heart to go and mingle with his peers for the moment.

What he had heard from Morpheus and Death had really piqued his interest.

Well, he wasn't foolish enough to go and get himself killed to find the answers to a mystery like he had been trained to in his younger years but this one felt a lot different from the subtly, behind the scenes manipulation done by Dumbledore.

Moreover, Death had said it would need his help in this matter - whatever it was. 

Though Harry hadn't shown it, he had noticed a few oddities during his talk today. 

When Morpheus had tried to hint that Death wouldn't simply let anyone join The Three Hallows and become its master, Death hadn't denied the claim.

More importantly, even though he had felt the restrained power of the intruder in the garden, Death didn't seem to have felt it and had only noticed just a split only before Morpheus had snapped off their connection. 

At that time, he had felt the strong sensation of coming across a power that was so strong that it couldn't be encompassed or quantified. 

He felt stunned and awed at the sheer power that the entity had in its grasp.

All the more, Harry had felt the probing undertones of that power as if the entity in question was looking for something.

He hoped to Merlin and Morgana that it wasn't him.

He wasn't the same snot-nosed brat who didn't realise how truly easy it was to take a wrong step and have everything come tumbling down on and around him. 

The Blacks were already being hounded by Grindelwald's Acolytes.

If in such a tense situation, he also has to deal with a bored entity who thought nothing of mortal lives, he would really have something to cry for in such a situation. 

Giving it some more thought, he realised that it had been so long ago he had joined The Hallows so it wasn't unreasonable to say that many entities have taken notice of this fact. 

So, it wouldn't take anyone much time to realise that he had greater power than Death and anyone who had any sort of beef with Death would come after him.

But since those powerful entities wouldn't be idiotic enough to come to the mortal plane, it meant that they might just simply send their minions to toy around with the people around him. 

Harry could feel his heart growing cold as soon as he realised this. 

Damn!

He couldn't bring harm to his family once again.

Once was more than enough.

He didn't want to be the reason they were embroiled in something bigger than anyone could handle. 

However, as long as his family was safe and sound, he couldn't deny the excitement coursing through him at the thought of another opponent he had to contend against this time.

After all, no matter how much he denied it, Harry had become accustomed to the smoke and fire of a battlefield and it had been too long since he had been away from such a scene.

He had been playing safe since he had come to this world but it seemed he should start gearing up for some excitement in his life.

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A few days later, Harry was seated with a group of Dark wizards who would have him shudder in disgust at them and he would have told everyone how repugnant he found them to be. 

Rookwood, Rosier, Carrow, Nott, Yaxley, Malfoy, Macnair, including himself. 

These people or their sons who were twice Harry's age at that time had stood opposite him in the war against Voldemort. 

Many of these lines had died in the various skirmishes and some hadn't even left behind any progeny to continue their lineage. 

It was truly a sad business all around. 

Now looking at them sitting and talking in the common room, Harry felt surreal but also ironic. 

Eight of them - either heirs or the spares - they represented a large block of Dark affiliated and declared families in The Wizengamot and here they were sitting and goofing around about trivialities. 

Well, Lestrange should also have had a seat within this group. However, since House Malfoy had dissolved its accord with House Lestrange, the heirs simply existed in a fragile semblance of peace.

Nobody wanted to go against the Blacks and the Malfoys for Lestrange. On the other hand, they didn't want to be on the chopping board if House Lestrange tied itself with another house in the sacred 'Twenty-eight'. 

Just as the discussion was about to get out of hand, he noticed Riddle entering the common room. 

His cousin also noticed the boy and called him.

Harry watched with thinly veiled amusement as he watched Tom notice his presence among the group and gave a small start at that. 

However, the other boy didn't say anything and simply walked forward. 

When it became apparent that the other boy was planning to join them but there were no further empty seats left, Rookwood tried to slide upwards on his couch because that was the only place that had more free space to seat another. 

Harry didn't know why but he raised his hand to catch everyone's attention and said, "Don't budge over, Rookwood. Having two people on the same couch would make both of you feel cramped." 

Then with a switch and flick of his hand, he conjured a chair for his roommate.

Meanwhile, when Lestrange noticed the newest addition to the elite Slytherin group, he couldn't help but feel waves of bitterness arise in his heart. 

He always felt that it was unfair that his actions had led to Riddle's acceptance into that group. 

The Mudblood was pathetic.

What right did he have to sit and mingle with people who were so high above his station in life?

As he watched Heir Black conjure up that chair and Riddle take that seat naturally - as if it was his due in life, he felt anger well up inside him.

That pathetic mudblood didn't deserve any of the recognition given to him by teachers and students alike.

Even Heir Black who was famous in the Dark Pureblood circle as an heir who couldn't be sweet-talked to and someone who kept to his own devices had started making concessions for this boy who came from unknown origins. 

Riddle had simply used the unfavourable situation he had found himself in at his own wand point to worm his way inside this group. 

Lestrange had also heard the hushed whispers in Slytherin where the students wondered what qualities did Riddle have to be accepted so readily by Heir Malfoy and Heir Black. 

In a way, Heir Black had also cut-off his cousin's path to being a Slytherin King when he had spoken out of turn for Riddle during the Halloween feast. 

He desperately wanted to question the including of Riddle into the pureblood circle when the other was nothing more than a mudblood at worst and a half-blood of some long-forgotten origins at best. 

But the time and place weren't right for that as of yet. 

Well, he would lie in wait and see for how long Riddle would be shielded by those two heirs.

After all, Grindelwald was on the rise and associating with this kind of riff-raff might just cause more trouble than it was worth for Malfoy and Black.

Moreover, if this issue was blown up in the correct manner, their families also wouldn't allow their future Lords to have ties with Riddle. 

So, for the time being, he kept his head low while plotting his revenge which would be swift once an opportunity was there. 

Meanwhile, on the other end of the common room, the pureblood elites carried on with their homework, wizard chess or gossiping. 

Suddenly Malfoy raised his head and with a schadenfreude smile called, "Black" 

Harry didn't look up from his own Charms homework and just gave a vague hum which was indication enough that he was listening. 

The blonde leaned forward in his seat and with a pronounced smirk on his face said, "Grandfather just told me that the Delacour's are coming to Britain for the Yule Celebrations."

Tom's eyes and hands paused as soon as he heard the exchange.

No matter how hard he denied, it still didn't escape his notice of how Black's hands seemed to stop in their writing as soon as he heard those words. 

Simultaneously, it was like the rest of the Heirs were like a shark on the hunt after it had smelt the scent of blood in the air. 

"Don't care," was the only response from Black even though he seemed to be hyper-aware of how everybody was paying close attention to his response. 

His words didn't seem to satisfy the rest of the group because Heir Rosier who was the same age as Black and of somewhat equal standing mocked, "Really?" 

Black seemed to be hell-bent upon ignoring the topic because he didn't care to respond to those words and simply made a crude gesture at Rosier which had the rest of the boys laughing. 

Though Tom didn't know who the Delacours were, it could be seen that they were important enough to have regular correspondence and some semblance of relations with the group that controlled half of The Wizengamot and the economy of British Isles. 

Malfoy it seems was in a happy mood because he didn't stop the rubbing from others and instead poured more oil into the fire.

"Oh! Boys, don't tease little Black. He is busy thinking about how he will woo Miss Delacour when she arrives  in a few days time."