Minerva McGonagall makes sure you're always occupied...

January 12th, 1994. Gryffindor Tower.

Harry was playing chess with Ron, both of them ignoring Hermione again, still peeved over the Firebolt incident, when Professor McGonagall entered through the portrait.

Both boys stopped their actions as they noticed her coming their way.

"Mr Potter, what is your relationship with Mr Peverell?" she asked.

Harry himself was not entirely sure of that,

"He is my cousin Professor, although other than that, not much." He replied.

Nodding, the Professor seemed to ease up before she took an object out of her pocket and unshrank it.

Harry couldn't stop his smile when he saw his Firebolt; he was finally going to be able to fly on it.

"It appears Professor Dumbledore has no issues with you receiving a gift from Lord Peverell, so we no longer need to examine it. Other than that, we will also return the other gifts you received."

Professor McGonagall said with a smile; now Gryffindor was sure to win the Quidditch House Cup.

Taking back his new broom, he asked her,

"What other presents?"

His head of house looked a little sheepish when asked,

"Your friend Hermione expressed concern when she saw how many presents you had received, especially from the Peverell Family. So, for your safety, I confiscated them before you noticed them."

Harry felt even more betrayed. How could she do that to him? Hermione had snaked him out because he had too many presents!

What kind of excuse was that! She hadn't even asked if he knew Ares Peverell.

He didn't feel so bad about Hermione getting trapped with her skirt down in front of Malfoy now.

He regretted forgiving Hermione yesterday and letting her sit with them at breakfast; he had only gotten into a fight with his cousin and the

Slytherins mainly because Ron had been pranked too.

"Where are they?"

Professor McGonagall reached into one of the pockets of her robes, pulled them out, and then unshrank them.

Harry nodded his thanks, scooped up the three other packages and hurried back to his dorm room.

Unwrapping the packages, he was pleasantly surprised to find clothes that fit him and a book.

Upon opening the book, he found it to be empty. There was no writing in it at all.

Just as he was about to close the book, writing appeared.

Dear Harry,

I know you have had bad experiences with talking books before, so I implore you to keep reading.

I have many secrets and spells to share with you. Unfortunately, we only have a little time, so please return my message as soon as possible by writing under this.

Yours sincerely,

Lord Peverell

Harry dropped the book in surprise. How did his cousin know about the diary? Then, realising he could ask the man himself, Harry found a pen in his trunk and wrote back.

Lord Peverell,

How do you know about the diary? What kind of secrets and spells do you plan on sharing with me? Why don't we have a lot of time?

Yours sincerely,

Harry Potter

It took a little while for him to receive a response.

Harry,

Call me Ares; we are cousins, after all. I know about the diary from research and a few chats with your Headmaster. You were once told there was no light or dark only power. That person was very close to the truth. There is no light or dark. Only intent. The most straightforward household charms can become evil when used with the wrong intention. For example, I could levitate someone out of the window of a tower and let them drop. As for secrets, I will require an oath first before I tell you more. Do hurry.

Your cousin Ares

The man was starting to sound dangerously dark, at least from what Hermione had told Harry about dark spells.

Screw Hermione! she hadn't wanted him to have the Firebolt or gifts.

Dipping his quill in ink again, he wrote back.

Ares,

How would I swear an oath on paper? You claim all magic is intent-based; how can the killing curse be used for good?

Harry

Satisfied with his question, he waited patiently for a reply.

Meanwhile, Ares was watching his younger self reply from his room in the dungeons.

Applying his fountain pen to the page, he decided on his answer.

Dear Harry,

You can write your magical oath in the book, and your inherent magic will accept it as binding.

The killing curse originated as a quick way for farmers to kill their livestock without unnecessary blood loss.

Ares.

Harry was surprised to learn that, but it weirdly made sense.

Harry wrote down his magical oath, promising to tell no one what he learned without Ares's permission.

Satisfied with the oath, the Dark Lord began to educate his younger self in ways most Hogwarts students had never dreamed of.

--------------------------------------

Detention

Transfiguration Classroom

Ares strode into McGonagall's detention without a care in the world. After all, what could this woman do to him? Despite her raging double standards, she was one of the fairest teachers in his timeline.

The Professor looked up from her desk and scowled upon seeing him.

"Mr Peverell, I know you attacked my students. Even if they were in your way, I find your behaviour unacceptable. You are to rewrite this textbook more concisely and usefully." She ordered him with a sneer that would have made Snape proud on her face.

Ares almost laughed. Even after he had assaulted her students, she was giving him lines. However, the Dark Lord stopped laughing when shown what was inside the textbook. It was NEWT level and entirely in ye olde English, which meant he would spend hours translating is t, well, at least until the detention was over and he could finish the translation using magic.

The now irritated Ares sat down and began to work.