chapter 6

Well, Albus, I have to say, you still do things larger than life," Alastor Moody stated as he slid into a chair and gave Albus Dumbledore a long look. "A man who attacked some of the more prominent names in pureblood society, on both sides of the divide, and you single handedly managed to enable his escape."

"I thought…" Dumbledore started to protest before letting it die on his lips as he saw the look that Moody sent his way. "How bad is it?"

"This was the man who was responsible for the attacks that I told you about before." Alastor stated flatly. "If the witness statements were to believed, someone the Storm Chaser, who happens to be named Harry Potter, apparently, accused of murdering his own father."

Dumbledore slumped down as he stared at the desk in front of him as he let his body hunch back into itself. "How many is he responsible for killing?"

"Estimates range from a few dozen to past a hundred," Alastor stated flatly as he shook his head. "And, by all accounts, until you blundered your way onto that fight, this Potter had him almost defeated."

"It looked like a duel gone out of control," Dumbledore stated quietly. "There were bodies and dark magic littering the area. What was I supposed to do?"

"Make sure that no bystanders were hurt while checking with the people that were there to find out what was going on," Alastor stated simply. "Of course, that might just be the fact that I don't have the bloody power and skill to interfere in a duel like that and walk away in one piece."

"And I am, as you so eloquently pointed out to me before, a teacher," Dumbledore stated as he finally raised his eyes and looked back at Alastor. "And what does a teacher do when he sees a fight getting out of control?"

"When he's in his school? Intervene," Alastor agreed before pressing back. "When he's not? Find out if he should intervene."

"I have long accustomed myself to the idea that most of our society was still a part of my school." Dumbledore stated with a quiet sigh and a shake of his head.

"Well, it's not," Alastor stated simply before sighing and shaking his head. "Perhaps you should be taking a sabbatical."

"… From?" Dumbledore asked warily as he looked back at Alastor.

"Hogwarts." Alastor stated simply.

"But… why?" Dumbledore's face was cloaked in confusion.

"Do you know why the Storm Chaser, why Harry Potter, was there to begin with?" Alastor demanded with a look.

"I... do," Albus admitted, a frown of displeasure crossing about his features. "He was there applying for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

"And what did he demonstrate? In front of the entire hiring board?" Alastor asked leadingly as his face held flat look as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

"They can't be seriously considering…" Albus started to protest.

"He did good work," Alastor started off, a grudging respect as he . "Clean, efficient, kept the noncombatants out of harm, kept the threat contained…"

"That area was practically soaked in dark magic!" Albus cut in.

"None of it his," Alastor informed him sharply with a glare. "In fact, he made a point of collecting and containing the bloody stuff. Never even thought it was possible, but he did it."

"Then please, Alastor, explain to me the dead wizards with signs of dark magic damage." Albus stated with a calm, cold voice.

"He contained it." It was a simple response and a shrug. "How hard was it for him to turn the residue back against them?"

"And how does this make them any better than they were?" Albus demanded, anger again leeching into his tone. "So what if he didn't cast the spells himself! He still inflicted it upon living wizards!"

"Living wizards that had attacked Hogsmeade in broad daylight. Living wizards who were responsible for those curses to begin with," Alastor responded as he shook his head. "Those rules you cling to, Albus? They stop applying to people who break them to start with."

"Just because someone else breaks the rules, it is suddenly permissible to break them yourself?" Albus gave him a cold look. "That is not how society works."

"That is how war works," Alastor stated quietly as he then looked fully upon Albus' face.

"We are not at war!" Albus protested, though to his own ears, his voice sounded weak.

"What do you think this was? What else would you call a mass attack on a pub with so many innocent bystanders and some of the most influential individuals in Britain?" Alastor almost barked out his words in anger as he glared back at the man. "What do you think those attacks, those kills, have been? We are very much at war, Albus. This was just the formal declaration of it."

"Surely after what happened…" Albus started to protest again, even as his words died off and his shoulders slumped with the weight of realization.

"Not so easy to play it so high and mighty without looking the hypocrite, is it, Albus?" Alastor stated with a shake of his head. "He treated it as it was; a declaration of war. He showed them exactly what it will mean. And from what I guess, it wasn't what they were expecting."

"I won't have my students turned into killers, Alastor." Albus declared with a hiss.

"I had the opportunity to speak to the board about the incident. They had only barely gotten started on the interview when they were attacked," Alastor stated, as if he hadn't heard the other man's objections. "What they told me was fairly… interesting."

With a look of long suffering resignation on his face, Albus gave Alastor the question he was prompting. "How so?"

"The first thing they asked was about the Patronus spell. A nice bit of obscure trivia to throw people off their game. He answered it without hesitation, produced a fully corporeal one and then explained he was experienced in training people in its use."

Albus stared at him.

"The second was even more telling," Alastor continued as he gave Dumbledore a look. "They asked him what he'd teach them. He told them how to escape and survive. Then someone asked what they would need to know about that, when they wouldn't be attacked like that in Britain. Irony being, it was then that this Voldemort attacked."

Wincing as the image came together in his mind, Albus slumped back in his seat. "If I fought this…"

"Longbottom and Bones would help the Blacks crucify you," Alastor told him flatly. "And that's not counting the enemy you'd likely make out of the Potters."

Albus winced. The Potters were not known for being the most civilized of families. They could act the part when it pleased them, of course, and they weren't known for being dark wizards and sadists like the Blacks. No, they were simply known for ignoring the niceties of decorum, restraint and manners when it came to confrontations.

And for being more than a little recklessly headstrong.

For one of their own to demonstrate he was obviously the most qualified in such a spectacular fashion, and then be denied?

This was shaping up to be an incredible headache.

"My advice? Again, take a sabbatical," Alastor repeated his earlier advice as he gave Albus a look. "Otherwise this is likely going to get messy."

"You say it as if I won't be able to control myself." Albus said with a mild, reproaching look.

"You like to meddle. It's what teachers do," Alastor stated simply. "Sometimes, even when they be better served by not."

Albus sighed and leaned back as he contemplated those words.

"Charlus." The voice was weathered but strong as it spoke, its owner a man of perhaps a decade older than Charlus himself, his hair a full steely grey, but visibly related. "I am going to trust that you actually have an explanation for this."

Charlus did not wince though he did incline his head in acknowledgement. "It's a bit… well, to be perfectly honest, it's entirely bloody terrifying."

"Who is he?" the man demanded as he gave Charlus a look. "And why wasn't I told about him?"

"It started out as a favor for my nephew," Charlus admitted. "Then things, well… it honestly rather snowballed, Lucius."

Lucius Potter sighed as he slumped back in his chair and rubbed his temples. "There is no Harry Potter that I'm aware of, Charlus."

"He is a Potter," Charlus stated firmly. "That much I can assure you of… and his explanation…"

"What of it?" Lucius ask warily as he looked back at Charlus.

"He is a Potter, a Potter of Lord level might and skill. A Potter that we have never heard of. That no one has ever heard of." Charlus continued as he looked back at Lucius. "What does that tell you?"

"Assuming he is really a Potter?" There was the slightest hint of sarcasm in Lucius' voice. "I wouldn't know; it shouldn't be possible."

"Exactly," Charlus agreed quietly. "But, here he is. And his skill and power have been publically demonstrated."

Lucius grunted softly as he leaned back in his chair and then arched a brow expectantly at Charlus.

"He describes it as…" There was a pause as Charlus collected himself. "There was a dark wizard, one that had delved into insane and forbidden magics. He was there to stop him. He was at the center of a massive insane spell instead of the caster. When it was over…"

"When it was over?" Lucius asked as he kept his brow arched up.

"… As he put it… it was made as if everyone he knew, everything he had, was gone. Wiped out. As if they were never there. As if they had never happened."

"…" Lucius stared at Charlus for a moment and then arched a brow. "And you believe him."

It was a statement, not a question.

"I was looking into his eyes as he said it, Lucius. He has nothing left." Charlus stated simply and quietly.

"Then why would he even care about all this? Why get involved?" Lucius asked more pointedly. "If he truly lost so much, why is he even here?"

"Do you recall where he first appeared?" Charlus asked. "Where he first fought them?"

"A pub," Lucius stated with a snort. "Your point?"

"A muggle pub," Charlus corrected. "He never had any intention of getting involved. He was planning on avoiding the wizarding world entirely."

"… And then they just happened to stumble across him." Lucius stated with more than a small amount of skepticism in his voice.

"I've seen the memory of the only survivor of the attackers." Charlus said quietly. "It was Cygnus' daughter, Bellatrix."

"And it could still be an elaborate set up." Lucius answered back, unmoved.

"Not with the things he knows. Things he couldn't possibly know if he was anything other than what he claims."

Lucius reluctantly allowed the point as he recalled some of the things that Charlus had told him about what the young man had said. "A point. Then, again, why didn't you tell me?"

"Things tend to… snowball with Harry. Quite rapidly. As I said, I started this out as a favor for my nephew. And, quite honestly, I ended up getting so involved that, when I wasn't bloody well drinking myself stupid from even thinking about the sheer headache this situation gives us, I was waist deep in it." Charlus explained.

Grunting sourly, Lucius still glared at Charlus somewhat. "And do you know the shear headache you've inflicted upon me? The bloody Blacks knew about this before I did!"

"Well, in their defense, they have been in the middle of it longer than even I have," Charlus said with a shrug of his shoulders before brightening visibly. "I even got to terrify my niece Walburga because of it."

Lucius sighed softly. "At least you got something worthwhile out of your nephew. I still struggle to comprehend how my sister found Abraxas Malfoy of all people a suitable match. Let alone what possessed her to name their son after me."

"Because until little James was born, he was your heir presumptive," Charlus pointed out with a bemused little smile before glancing towards the door. "Speaking of whom…"

Lucius sighed audibly and gave the door a look. "Come out, James."

"No Jameses here." The replied was muffled. "Just us puffskeins."

As Lucius pressed his face into his palm, Charlus smirked at the man then shrugged his shoulders. "Well, if there's no James there, then I suppose I'll be keeping this James present until I see one."

"Well, wait, there might be a James here. One moment please."

There was a soft rustle of feet before the door creaked open and a ten year old boy pushed his head inside. "Hello? Did I hear cousin Charlus?"

"Puffskeins, really, James?" Lucius asked with a sigh as he gave his son a look.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, father," James said as innocently as he could before looking at Charlus eagerly. "Did you bring me a present?"

"Spoiled brat," Charlus stated with a sigh and an exaggerated shake of his head. "Why would I have a present for you?"

"But you said…!" James started to whine quietly.

"I thought we were talking to puffskeins?" Lucius couldn't help but ask as he looked back at his son.

James froze, his eyes wide as he tried desperately to come up with an answer to that. "Um, ah…"

"Thought so." Lucius stated with a nod. "Off with you. Now."

"Yes, father." James stated with slumped shoulders, moving back from the door, before pausing. "… Father?"

"Yes, James?"

"Is it true that the Storm Chaser is a Potter?" James asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

Lucius cast a foul look at Charlus, whom merely smiled back at him with an innocent curl of his lips before speaking. "According to Charlus, yes, he is."

"Then can I meet him?!" James asked, sticking his head back through the door, eyes shining hopefully.

Charlus visibly smothered a laugh as he looked back at Lucius.

Lucuis in turn gave Charlus a merciless, predatory grin. "It will depend on your dear cousin Charlus here. We'll see what he can do."

For a moment, Charlus blinked, then looked back at Lucius. Then he looked at the eager face on James and shook his head. "We'll see. Harry isn't very big on socializing."

"Please, Cousin Charlus? Pleeeeeeeeeease?" James asked, eyes wide and pleading.

Charlus was not moved in the slightest. "We'll see."

Voldemort screamed.

There was pain in it. There was agony. There was anger.

But most of all, there hate. It was a venomous hatred swallowing up the sinking pit of cold fear that had settled into his stomach. A twisting, angry thing.

He turned his gaze around onto his followers, revealing an angry, milky white orb set in a blackened, shriveled socket. The spell had been cancelled. It had been his to begin with, after all, but the effects could not be so easily reversed.

The Dark Arts were hardly forgiving.

"WHO IS HE?!" Flecks of spittle shot out of his mouth as he spoke. His fingers clenched about his wand, feeling the way it seemed to almost shudder against his grip.

No one had an answer for him.

He had spent decades preparing for this. Training for it. Learning every little thing he could to become unstoppable.

But this man, hardly more than a boy, had practically bested him in their fight. And what was worse was that he had done it in public. He owed his continued existence in this form to Dumbledore of all people.

It seemed impossible. For the longest time, the only stumbling block to his plans had always been Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore had everything; a reputation, Hogwarts, unmatched political power, awe inspiring magical prowess. All in the form of a foolish old man who was too weak to make use of his own might.

Now, however, there was another. One younger than both of them. One with power, skill and a ruthlessness that Voldemort did not know how to respond to.

With Dumbledore, it was simply striking, hard, fast and brutal and vanish like the mist when the old man finally left the vaunted security of Hogwarts. Whittle away at his spirit, at his position. Make him look useless and maybe even make the man himself think that.

If they did happen to fight him, Dumbledore would always duel. There was mercy and hesitation to exploit. He would try to capture them above all else.

This Storm Chaser, though…

He struck without pause or mercy. He destroyed without hesitation. He went for the killing blow every time.

And he was good enough to pull it off.

Reluctantly Voldemort looked over his followers. He could see in them a growing fear. Only, the fear wasn't just of him.

Most of it was, of course. His fury meant their suffering. But still, he could see it.

The glimmer where they were considering whose fury they feared more. His, or this Storm Chaser's.

Yesterday, there would have been no hesitation in it being his fury that terrified them more.

That was before he had returned alone and visibly wounded. Cursed scarred and half blinded. Before they could have written off this Storm Chaser as a fluke, as lucky.

Now…

He had to act swiftly.

He forced himself into the appearance of calm. Years of practice smoothed his features and stilled the sneering his lips into a thin line. Tom Riddle came to the forefront once more as Voldemort stepped back and let the mask fall into place.

"It would seem that there were grave… miscalculations made about our new foe."

His voice was smooth, cultured and precise as he calmly smoothed his robes and looked at them with an outward calm he didn't feel inside. But the fools needed calm, needed reassurance. Someone to sooth away their terror and remind them of their purpose.

Or, at least the purpose he wanted them to believe they served.

"And yet, I am still here. Both Albus Dumbledore and this Storm Chaser were there. And still I am here." It was a slight embellishment, but that was allowed. "I have been wounded, yes."

It made him queasy just to say it, to admit even the slightest bit of weakness. But, it would serve a purpose.

"But I still live. My power undiminished. My skills unmatched." He paused there before lifting his wand up, slowly gesturing to his milky white eye as he lightly traced around the shriveled eye lid. "This? A reminder. A price we pay in blood to free our world of the filth plaguing it."

The tip of his wand began to glow, a pulsing, angry crimson, like blood, boiling and ready to drip down its length.

"Perhaps you look at it and see weakness? Hmm? Look at it and think me maimed? Weakened?" He bared his teeth then, letting a flash of Voldemort shine through as he set his jaw before pushing the tip of his wand into his ruined eye.

With a snarl he drowned the pain in anger, hatred and fury. With one savage tug there was a gruesome eruption of blood as the useless organ was ripped out of the socket. Then, with a blank stare, he looked at it, lifted it up for them to see as blood began to slowly pour down his cheek.

"This. You see something lost, cursed, broken, ruined," he said, the words tinged with a hiss of anger, contempt, before flicking his wrist up. The eyeball shot into the air, hung there, caught in an angry crimson glow. "You suddenly doubt the power of Lord Voldemort so easily?"

And with growl he began to cast, magic flowing out of the tip of his wand and connecting to the suspended eye like a writhing serpent. Veins of dark, pulsing shadow followed it, wrapping it up, veiling it from sight. Then another squirming tendril of magic reached out and connected back to his bleeding socket.

"I. Am. Voldemort!" he declared as another angrily burst of magic poured out of his wand and flowed into the circuit as the air seemed to grow colder, the shadows around them darker.

"Behold!" And with that a final surge of magic splashed from the tip of his wand into the pulsing cloud of magic that surrounded the eye, before it drew itself back into his face.

For a moment, his features were half consumed by the cover of the spell before they condensed, pulling back further and further until at last they revealed a once more filled socket.

Only, the eye that stared back at them was not the eye that had been.

The white sclera was a deep, bloody crimson, the iris as black as shadows, and the slitted pupil an almost glowing bright red.

"What they think they can take from me, I can simply remake, I can restore!" he declared, his voice carrying over the room as he glared back at them. "They think that they have won a victory here, that I, we, have been defeated!"

He flicked his wand and the drops of his blood that had fallen on the ground burst into greedy black flames. "Instead they have only strengthened my resolve! We will show them that we will do what it takes. Whatever it takes to drive out this filth that contaminates our world. We will make it pure once more, we will make it strong again!"

There was a cheer from the crowd, though he could see there was still some hesitation, some doubt.

It made the anger inside of him burn even hotter.

"I will see them broken, bleeding and begging for the mercy of death before I am through with them," he stated with a hiss. "That, I can promise you."

And he would. Unfortunately, though, he would first have to find more… allies to help them. Fortunately there were plenty of dark creatures and creations that could be unleashed upon this Storm Chaser. All one had to do was know where to find them.

Something he most certainly knew.

Orion Black was staring at the family tapestry as he held a glass of scotch in hand when Cygnus found him.

"Well, you've met him." Cygnus stated as he watched Orion carefully.

"Met him, Cygnus?" Orion repeated quietly. "I've heard a few words, answers to a handful of questions, and prompts for dozens more."

"And you've seen his power," Cygnus added quietly. "Both of them."

"Of that, you are quite right," Orion agreed as he lifted up his glass and sipped his scotch. "And our neutrality has been violated."

"And your thoughts?" Cygnus asked, keeping his face carefully neutral.

"That I ill like the choices in front of me," Orion stated flatly and shook his head. "And that my wife is going to force me to cast her out of the family."

Cygnus had only the barest of winces at that and slowly sighed. "You are certain?"

"I know my wife," Orion stated simply as he stared at the tapestry. "Already you have seen how she tried to subvert me with your daughters. She tries it with our sons daily."

"I had hoped…" Cygnus began, only to sigh as he looked back at the Tapestry. "The world is changing."

"In ways I do not particularly care for." Orion stated with a grimace as he sipped at his scotch.

"You say it as if I don't find it particularly distasteful." Cygnus stated simply as he looked back at Orion.

"You do not act it." Orion stated flatly as he turned and gave the man a look.

Chuckling softly Cygnus stared at the tapestry for a moment, letting the pause in conversation draw out before responding. "What am I to like about the situation? I either sacrifice what we have been taught it means to be a Black, or I watch as my family goes extinct. You've seen the memory. Surely you could see how close he came to simply ending Bellatrix then and there."

And indeed he could. Orion remembered the detached consideration in Harry Potter's eyes when the man had held Bellatrix at wand point, weighing the life by things he couldn't quite determine. What had been clear was that Bellatrix's life had only slimly won out over her death.

"And now she is besotted with him," Cygnus continued as he grimaced. "She ignores the offers of upstanding and acceptable wizards in favor of the hope of pursuing him. A half blood. But a half blood capable of crushing us all beneath his heel.

"So, I have looked at the scenario. I have looked at our choices. I do not like them but I have learned to accept them," he continued as he shook his head. "Because what else can do we do? As my uncle stated? Cling to our pride and be laid low for it? His words rang of a truth painful to hear, but a truth none-the-less."

Orion took a harsh swallow of his scotch, scowling angrily as he stared back at the tapestry. "I know. By Merlin do I know. That fight… I have seen men like this Voldemort before. Never of such power and skill, but I have seen their like before. Your Storm Chaser was adept enough at stripping away his mask of civility, his pretense of humanity."

"The blind volley of curses was less than friendly as well," Cygnus agreed with a nod of his head. "We were fortunate that his attention was so quickly diverted and focused."

"As I said… power and skill," Orion stated, shivering at the memory. "To throw about those curses so quickly, so easily…"

"And to see them negated so handily," Cygnus added calmly. "And those animations…"

"Indeed," Orion agreed with a nod of his head as he sipped again at his scotch.

It was then that Walburga Black approached her brother and husband, a look of vicious glee upon her lips. "Well, brother, husband, I just heard the most… enlightening news!"

Both men glanced at one another before Orion took another drink of scotch. Sighing at the unspoken statement, Cygnus looked at his sister. "And what would be…?"

"That the precious Storm Chaser that you have us skulking away from our duty encountered Lord Voldemort at Hogmeade." The vicious, triumphant grin on her face spoke volumes as both men noted it and then glanced at one another.

"And your point?" Orion asked as he studiously set his attention upon the tapestry in front of them.

The flat dismissal in his tone made the confidence in Walburga's smirk crack for a moment before recovering. "Voldemort nearly bested him before that fool Dumbledore saved him. Now do you see? This foolishness is at an end! We should take our place in his service!"

"… Is that what they're saying?" Cygnus asked blandly as he looked back at his sister.

"Yes!" Walburga declared. "I just heard it from…"

"We were there." Orion stated flatly, still not looking at his wife.

"Then you should know firsthand the might of….!" Walburga began to state before her husband turned to her and she beheld a look that froze her to the core.

"What I know is what you heard was a lie. There was a fight between them, yes," Orion stated flatly. "The one saved by Dumbledore was not the Storm Chaser."

"… You lie!" Walburga hissed with only a moment's hesitation.

"We were there, sister," Cygnus responded back. "He attacked not only the Storm Chaser but us as well."

"Then where was your vaulted neutrality?!" There was a note of triumph in her voice as she smirked viciously back at them.

"We had been there all day, long before the Storm Chaser arrived," Orion said simply, still not looking at her. "We were a part of the hiring board for the opening at Hogwarts, to try and insure that the applications who made the initial cut had at least some idea of propriety."

"The interview with him had barely started with your precious Voldemort attacked us all." Cygnus noted as he didn't quite look at his sister.

Walburga was staring at them, her mouth half hung open, before clouding over with a furious scowl. "NO! You will NOT ally us with that like blood traitors! We are not…!"

"Be SILENT!" Orion cut her off was he turned upon her, his voice striking like a flash of steel. "You have ignored this for too long, Walburga! I have tried warning you. I have tried reprimanding you, but still you do not listen!"

Cygnus looked away as he stared purposely at his sister's name on the tapestry.

"And now, now you seek to dictate what I will and won't do? The decisions I will make that you are too blind and foolish to understand?" Orion loomed now, anger burning in his eyes. "You think I know not how you tried to poison our sons into breaking my declaration?"

Cygnus blinked slightly at that. He had assumed his sister had moved to his own daughters because she knew better than to attempt such an overt action against her husband's wishes. To have fallen so…

"And what's more… you try to drive us into the service of a thing so foolish and arrogant as to make horucruxes?!" Orion's eyes burned with fury. "Not simply horucruxes, but horucruxes made from the murder of his own family?"

"We are…" Walburga began, drawing herself up straight and proud, only to find her husband stepped forward to loom over her.

"We are Blacks." Orion stated for her as he glared down at her. "And it is time we had more pride in that fact. I will not whore out are family to serve as the boot lickers of a monster simply because he says and declares what you want to hear!"

"And it is better to prostitute ourselves to a piece of filth who follows the ideals of the blood traitors? To turn our backs on everything we've stood for?!" Walburga snapped back, her whole body trembling with rage.

"That is your ignorant presumption, and why we are changing who we are." Orion responded with a growl. "We will serve NO ONE! We are An Ancient and NOBLE House! What power is it we would have if we swore ourselves to anyone's service? None! Any power we had, any prestige, any influence? All of it would be attributed to the one we follow."

Her mouth hung at that as she struggled to come up with a proper response.

"What, did you think that following your Dark Lord would grant us influence? Power? All it would do would give us an excuse to kill muggles and end up sending our society into a civil war. Do you think your Dark Lord would share power, hmm? Do you think he would come to us, allow us a say in how the world should be?"

"We would be…" she started to say, only to again be cut off by her husband.

"We would be favored chattel. He cares nothing for his followers. If he did, he would've saved them instead of ignoring them to rot and die while he practically frothed like a mad dog at the Storm Chaser." Cygnus stated quietly as he shook his head.

"So, instead we will choose to ally with the only one that showed some interest in individuals other than himself," Orion stated flatly as he gave his wife a look. "Because he can at least be reasonable, perhaps even be manipulable. Either way we can insure the prestige and influence of our family far more standing beside him than we can following behind this monster Voldemort."

When she looked as if she was about to protest further, Orion gave her another cold look. "This is not a debate, Walburga. Try to subvert this in anyway and it will be your last act in this family. It will not be tolerated any longer."

Her face flushed and her eyes widened as her nostrils flared with rage. Only, he did not back down. He did not apologize, he did not diminish in the least. He stood firm, proud, and angry as he glared back at her.

"We shall see," she finally hissed out before turning and stalking away.

"Well, that was bracing," Cygnus noted once his sister was gone.

"And now I must prepare my sons to the concept that their mother is not to be listened to, trusted, or even relied on." Orion stated sourly.

"And I get to tell my wife that if she keeps falling in with my sister's plots, she will suffer the same fate." Cygnus noted with a twist of his lips and a sour grunt.

"The price of finding a way to make the best of this madness," Orion stated with a shake of his head.

"Though I imagine Uncle Charlus will find your use of his reasoning most… illuminating."

"Be silent, Cygnus," Orion said as he gave the man a mild glare, receiving only a thin smirk in response.

Harry stood in front of the serene looking pond and lightly rolled the handle of his wand between his finger and thumb. Then he lifted it, holding it more like a conductor's baton than a wand. A breath was taken, drawn in and held before in a rush it left his lips and he began.

A trail of ripples stirred across the pond's surface, making a slow counterclockwise turn. His wrist was loose, making long, exaggerated movements that kept the tip of his wand in an ever steady motion. Gradually the tip began to glow, collecting a small corona of light.

On the pond, a shape formed, indistinct with a rippling twisting and turning as it tried to take on definition and distinction.

It failed, revealing a misshapen quadruped form struggling to step out of the water. And for a moment, it looked like it would. One foot settled onto the pond's shore and at first held firm. Then it wavered, wobbled and finally collapsed in a wet splash.

"After hearing how you fought Riddle in Hogsmeade, I'm surprised to see you struggling with something like this," Charlus stated as he eyed Harry critically while making his presence known.

"Water's always been something I'm not quite comfortable with," Harry stated. "After Hogsmeade, I figured I should start working on it again. Never know when you might need it."

"Still surprising," Charlus stated simply. "I never found the elements to be too terribly difficult to manipulate…"

"Then you're doing it wrong." Harry stated flatly and shook his head.

Charlus blinked slightly, taken aback by Harry's words. "… What?"

"Changing the earth's shape, moving it around, that's not manipulating its element," Harry stated simply as he crouched down and then lightly tapped his wand against the ground, causing it to suddenly shift as a draconic head rose up and butted lightly into Harry's hand. "Actual manipulation… you stop using spells. You infuse your magic into it. You give it purpose and direction."

He lightly stroked the top of head before looking back to Charlus, who looked confused and more than a little skeptical. "You change something into something else. What happens when it comes into contact with more magic?"

"Depending on the spell, one generally cancels out the other." Charlus allowed carefully.

"But mine can cage dark curses, even fiendfyre, while maintaining their movements and actions. Why?"

That made Charlus pause as he blinked at that. "I had merely assumed the spells cast upon them were strong enough resist the other spells."

"… Animation spells, able to just resist fiendfyre?" Harry asked with an arched brow and a deadpan voice.

That again made Charlus pause, then frown. "… Then what was it then?"

"At its base, its animation, I suppose." Harry allowed before chuckling a bit. "It actually started out as a prank spell."

Charlus stared at him.

"Yup. My father and his friends were great pranksters in their youth," Harry stated nostalgically. "I ended up stumbling on it."

Harry slowly gestured to the head. "Animation charms… well, they have limits. What I do is impart my will on what I'm shaping. A strong enough wizard can still disrupt the shapes, but if you practice enough, it's easy to reform them."

"… Your will." Charlus repeated as he looked at Harry.

"Yes," Harry agreed with a nod and a sheepish grin. "At least, that's how I think of it. I don't really know how else to describe it."

"… I suppose," Charlus reluctantly allowed. After all, the whole basis for silent casting was intent and will.

"Water, though… I have trouble with," Harry admitted as he focused on the pond again. "I can't seem to get the right feel for it."

"I see," Charlus said in a tone that indicated he clearly didn't.

"Everything has a certain feel to it. A way it interacts with your magic," Harry stated simply. "How it handles being infused with it."

He gestured as some of the pebbles at the pond's edge rose up on a slick serpent of mud. "How earth reacts is different from stone. Mud is different from earth, and different from water. Wood is different from both. Everything is unique in and of itself. You have to learn to get a feel for it in order to direct it."

"And dark magic traces like you were said to manipulate in Hogsmeade?" Charlus asked bluntly.

Harry laughed softly at that. "I wasn't. I was manipulating something else that in turn manipulated it. That allows my magic to shield things from it. Or at least blunt the effects."

"… You do realize you're absolutely terrifying, yes?" Charlus asked as he looked at Harry critically.

"I am as I am," Harry stated simply with a helpless shrug. "I ended up hunting dark wizards not long after I finished school. Tried being an auror. Too much bureaucratic nonsense."

"I… see," Charlus stated as he stared back at Harry. "What're you going to do?"

"Pretty sure I just picked up the gauntlet," Harry stated simply as he looked out onto the pond and tilted his head to the side. "Won't matter where I try to run now, he'll come for me anyway. Might lead him on a nice little chase, though he'd end up killing too many people trying to hunt me down to make it worthwhile."

"… You don't think you can defeat him?" Charlus stated as his brows arched up in surprise.

"I know I can beat him," Harry said with a faint chuckle. "And I know he could beat me. If he was smart about it. I'd rather do what I can to stack the deck in my favor so it doesn't come to that."

"I would advise you to not make such statements where the average witch or wizard can hear you," Charlus stated warningly. "They won't take the time to actually listen to the full explanation."

"I know," Harry said with a tinge of bitterness in his voice. "Oh, do I know. Have you had much luck talking to the 'old guard' you've been telling me about?"

"They've been reaching out to my cousin, Lucius, more since the revelation that you're a Potter has come out." Charlus stated simply. "He, in turn, has been reaching out to me. Wondering why I hadn't mentioned that little fact to him previously."

"Ah," Harry allowed a small grin of bemusement to cross his features. "Are you in trouble?"

"No, not particularly," Charlus responded with a slight shake of his head. "Though his son, James, is quite eager to meet the infamous Storm Chaser now."

"… Oh?" Harry blinked a moment, then reached up and pinched his nose. "Really? Already?"

"What already?" Charlus asked, though with a slight amusement in his voice.

"Fanboys," Harry said with a shudder. "A horrible condition, one that turns normally even tempered and intelligent wizards into drooling, babbling idiots unfit to tie their own shoes."

Charlus just smirked at him.

"Oh, shut it," Harry stated with a sour mutter. "Until you've had to put up with them... It's not pleasant, at all. One good thing about hunting dark wizards full time, most of them would leave me bloody well enough alone."

"Of course," Charlus stated agreeably.

Harry gave him a look before rubbing his temples. "I need a flawless quartz and someone good with wards."

"Why?" Charlus asked curiously.

"To catch the bastard when I kill him. The quartz to trap him, the warder so I can make the prison I have for him vanish." Harry stated simply.

"… you already have a prison?" Charlus asked, blinking in surprise.

"Yup, one of his old hang outs, in fact," Harry stated with a dark grin. "Out of the way, hard to find and, with a bit of spell work, not likely to be found by accident. I'm going to trap the bastard in that gem and then I'm going to leave it in that deep, dark hole and forget about him."

"Ah," Charlus stated quietly before slowly nodding his head. "And Hogwarts then?"

"I still need to get rid of the Horucrux in Hogwarts." Harry stated simply. "Otherwise, the jinx will never be lifted."

"Very well," Charlus stated with a slow nod. "I will talk to Lucius. I'm sure he should be able to help us acquire the gem. As for the warding… Orion Black would likely know best."

"… Really?" Harry's face twisted in distaste. "I don't suppose you know of anyone else?"

"He would be the most expedient one. Do you have something against the Blacks?" Charlus asked with an arched brow that rose with a dangerous warning.

"… I honestly was more hoping to stay as far away from Walburga Black as I could." Harry said blandly. "Foul little hate mongering bitch."

"She is my niece." Charlus stated dryly.

"And this changes what I said?" Harry asked as he gave the man a look.

"Oh, it doesn't," Charlus agreed with a nod. "I had great fun reminding her that she was pushing past the bounds of what was acceptable. My great nieces deserve better than her venom."

There was a pause before he suddenly smirked almost predatorily at Harry. "And speaking of those great nieces… you made quite the impression on young Bellatrix."

"… what?" Harry asked, staring Charlus as if the words had not quite been in the Queen's English.

"Yes," Charlus said simply. "She has been quite the adamant defender of you to her family. Very… vigorous in making her case. Extremely passionate."

"… What." Harry repeated again stared at Charlus. "… Bellatrix?"

"Quite," Charlus agreed. "Her mother is quite put out. She's not taking a single one of her new courtship offers seriously. Has her sights already set on someone."

Harry just stared at him.

"She is an attractive young woman," Charlus stated. "And you are, by your own admission, an unattached young man."

"… Bellatrix?" Harry repeated again, just staring at Charlus.

"Most men would find that to be a rather intriguing thought," Charlus noted with a frown. "You do like women, don't you?"

"I like women," Harry agreed with a slow nod, "but… how the hell did that happen? I distinctly remember doing my best to put the bloody fear of Gods' wrath into her. And judging by my recollection, doing a damned good job of it."

"Well, I suppose she was never the most… stable of girls." Charlus admitted as he never lost the look of amusement on his face.

"… Bloody hell," Harry stated with a groan. "I… Bloody Hell. Can't I ever have things be simple?"

"As a completely unbiased observer, I'd have to say… you probably bring it on yourself." Charlus stated with a chuckle.

Harry just glared back at him.