Disclaimer - This is a work of fanfiction. I own nothing, all characters belong to JK Rowling.

Chapter 18 - The Spindle of Necessity

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When Rita returned to her flat back in London she had only one thing on her mind. It wasn't of what her next article was going to be. Or of how she could manoeuvre her editors into publishing anything about the return of the Dark Lord. Her type-writer was already gathering a thin layer of dust and the large pile of the unread post could wait. Only once she got off Hogwart's ground did she notice her stomach was practically eating itself. Her thoughts now were only of food.

The kitchen door flew open and she staggered forward. A foul rank smell from the pantry welcomed her. Without even contemplating she grabbed handfuls of blue-green cheese, half-rotten fruit and tore away at chunks of mouldy bread. She scoffed each them down in turn as fast as she could. Most would want to throw up in disgust at the very thought. But to Rita, the rotting fare was now all the more appetizing.

Once satiated, she slid down to the floor. Savouring the acrid taste lingering on her tongue, she wiped her mouth and chin of juices with the back of her hand. Her typewriter and quill could wait. Her editors at the Prophet and Witch-Weekly they could all wait. She had all the time in the world again. She let out one last long groan of pleasure before she let herself drift away.

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.

Harry snapped his fingers trying to get Tracey's attention. She jumped in her chair having been staring blankly out the window. They had only just taken their seats in Ancient Runes and her mind went wandering. In Tracey's defence, the sun was beaming through the west-facing windows tempting the entire class into drifting off for an afternoon nap. Outside the castle, the snow covering the ground was finally going to start melting away.

"Here professor." She chirped backed to Babbling calling out her name while Harry snickered to himself.

"Daydreaming already? Full of male veela and vampires I suppose,"

Tracey wrinkled her nose. "Male veela are a myth and no. Vampires are actually a big turn off for me and that's since before the half-vamp from the Weird Sisters was giving me creepy stares at the Ball. Although, a little biting is pretty hot."

"I'm shocked." He said dryly.

Professor Babbling finished with the register and began introducing the lesson.

"Good afternoon everyone, I hope you enjoyed the holiday break. Today, we will be taking what you have learned about Futhark as well as its variants to make a start with your inscription projects, these will count toward the overall score of your end of year exams."

She waited for the murmurs of interest to die down. Harry felt curious himself and with practical lessons promised he grew excited like the others too.

"Would anyone like to define to the class what an inscription is?"

Tracey raised her hand in competition with the others. But Hermione had started answering by the time her hand arrived in the air.

"Objects can be charmed and enchanted through inscriptions, it has been a timeless practice found in nearly all cultures spanning across history. Viking, Roman, Egyptian, Greek, Persia and Mesopotamia, they all used runic inscriptions in different and original ways."

"Thank you, Miss Granger, but please wait until I call on you before answering. Miss Davis, seeing as you do so rarely feel the need to participate in my class. For ten points can you give me one of the advantages of using an inscription rather than a spell?"

"Range, Professor,"

"If you want those points you will need to give us a little more than that."

Tracey replied with a smirk. "Properly made inscriptions do not need their creator to hang around, they could go halfway across the world and the inscription can remain active. Most standard spells, depending on the caster, have a maximum local range at which they are effective."

"Excellent answer, that's much better. Now lastly, who can tell us one of the disadvantages of an inscription?"

The classroom went quiet save Hermione who kept her hand raised. But Professor Babbling wasn't interested in rewarding her competitive nature after her earlier outburst.

"Really? No one else?" The teacher's gaze turned sharp as she scrutinised each of her students.

'Do you know?' Harry wrote in the margins of his book and nudged it towards Tracey.

'Not telling you,' She scribbled back to him with a smug smile.

"Daphne, I expect you to be able to answer this at least." Professor Babbling soon turned to her top student.

Harry's ears pricked up. The Slytherin girl had so far been sat at Tracey's old desk alongside Theodore Nott making herself as small and unnoticeable as possible. Hermione patiently waited with her arm mounted in the air but Babbling pretended not to notice. Harry sat up straighter and inched a little forward to hear her better.

"Sourcing." She said in a harsh tone as if she had just been personally insulted. "Every inscription requires power which means sourcing a supply of magic. Like charms, most magical effects lack permanence unless you are willing and able to supply magic indefinitely."

"Excellent, Daphne. The best magical inscriptions use an external magical source that achieves what we would call semi-permanency. Meaning the enchantment isn't perpetual but will not fail for a very, very long time. For example; I own a lovely winter cloak that I inscribed but has no sourced supply of magic. The inscription it holds is the equivalent of a warming charm, now on a day like today if I took a stroll down to Hogsmead it would do nicely. But should I take a bad portkey and find myself lost in an arctic tundra somewhere, with no shelter and with no way of apparating what is likely to happen? Mr Potter?"

His answer was immediate. "Magical exhaustion, with the extreme cold eventually you'd no longer be able to power the warming charm."

And then followed shortly by freezing to death. Harry thought to himself and raised his hand.

"The cloak's inscription is trying to maintain its user's warmth but because of the extreme stress of that temperature, it would drain you of magic. The time it takes would vary from person to person. Mr Potter, do you have a question?

"How would you give a cloak an inscription? Fabric and etching don't really seem to be very compatible."

There were a few titters shared between his classmates as if he had asked a rather stupid question. However, Babbling was a pleasant and patient woman. She wore a favourable smile as she walked through the aisles of desks.

"You're still eager aren't you Miss Granger, would you care to explain to your classmate?"

Hermione nodded vigorously. "An inscription is still just an array of itself, therefore, it doesn't necessarily have to be etched. I'd assume it had been woven into the cloak with embroidery."

Professor Babbling awarded them each ten points. This earned him a look of gratitude from Hermione since they were the only Gryffindors in class and at a disadvantage in her eyes. Tracey also gave him a tiny gesture of applause for his earlier answer. He couldn't be sure if she was mocking him or not but returned with a smirk.

'Go you, tiger!' She wrote in his margins. Her quill flourished excitedly as she drew a little smiling cat face. Harry had to roll his eyes while he struggled to hide his grin.

"There are of course other limitations. Which we will be going over as we discuss the differences between active and passive inscriptions..." Professor Babbling continued forward.

Sourcing magic wasn't as complicated as Harry first thought, or rather he understood the concept quickly. A wizard or witch just had to be sensitive enough in order to direct magical energy, creating a channel which acted as a pathway for magic to travel. Organic magical materials often behaved similarly to a core in the way they could store magic, naturally replenish through absorbing residual or background magic from its surroundings. Hair, bones, blood - any naturally occurring resource could theoretically be used, with direct correlations between what could also be used as ingredients in potions. While magical ink to make dyes could be used with various types of creature blood it wasn't the optimal material for an inscription equivalent of a warming charm. And there were ICW laws regulated its usage as it bordered too closely with blood magic.

For this theoretical cloak, by making the cloak with unicorn hair or grifffin fur the inscription could achieve permanence. Compatibility was also a factor that needed considering. As fur and hair originally provide warmth these were prefered materials for this the warming inscription. Magic followed logic in this instance.

And for those few witches and wizards that prefer not to use creature products, there were ways of syphoning and storing magic in gemstones. Another practice goblins were well versed in but was an impermanent solution which required actively replenishing the gems with magic. Metals were man-made and did not hold magic naturally, so for these to be inscribed metal had to be first imbued with or smelt from rare ores containing magic. Hence the value of goblin steel and silver being so high. As magical creatures that dwelled underground, they kept the locations of where magical ores could be found secret from wizards.

Even for a lesson that was mainly context and theory, Harry mostly remained engaged throughout. He and Tracey also passed notes, which was mostly her asking him invasive and random questions. He also had to ask how Neville knew she was good at Herbology, that seemed too odd for him to just mention since Slytherin and Gryffindor didn't take herbology together.

'We both help out sometimes. Astoria likes the greenhouses so it became a habit to give Professor Sprout a hand in there. Not just herbology either, I'm secretly a potions genius too.' She wrote with a self-satisfied smile.

'Aren't you barely in the top five of our year? Even Malfoy gets better marks than you.'

'Only because Crabbe and Goyle like to sabotage me!'

Harry didn't know how true that was. 'Want to do something about that?' He wrote.

'Oh, got something in mind?'

'I've been looking at human transfiguration recently and could do with some practice. We could turn their hands to tentacles maybe give them frogs legs too?'

'I was thinking something like an engorgement charm. Maybe turn their skin green?'

'You want to turn them into actual trolls? I like it.'

Tracey gave him an approving nod of her head.

Harry had told himself to not allow for any distractions outside of school and the tournament, except for quidditch. But he saw a unique opportunity with Tracey he simply found too irresistible. He could build a closer relationship with the girl, practice human transfiguration and lay on some punishment for the two boys all in one go.

"Potter, Davis - don't think I can't see you two. Stop whispering and passing notes and pay attention please." Seeing the two of them sharing similarly despicable grins, Professor Babbling called them out, snapping them out of the evil plan they were hatching.

Both of them bowed their heads low and stifled their laughter. Ancient Runes finished soon after and Tracey shot away with a cheerful wave. She practically pounced on Daphne as they left the classroom, he did his best to ignore that. They had arranged to have a strategic meeting later. Harry had things he needed to get done before dinner, once they had eaten they'd meet by the grand staircase before taking a trip to see the twins.

The first order of business was tracking down McGonagall with Hermione, who didn't seem to approve making target practice out of Crabbe and Goyle either. Harry thought that was funny considering she once had the bright idea to drug and impersonate them, but he wasn't about to call the kettle black.

"I feel like you two are going to be a bad combination." She said once more, while thoughtfully chewing her lip the way she often did.

"I was already going to go visit the twins later about our new little project, she might as well come. Besides, I think she genuinely likes hanging around with us." Harry said absent-mindedly while he checked the map for the location of their Head of House. She was already leaving the Transfiguration tower and likely heading to the staff room.

"She amuses herself regardless of the company. Do you think she'll be safe in the same room with Fred and George?"

"Safer than you or me. I honestly expect they're going to think she is their long lost sister or something,"

Hermione gave a sigh. "Alright, just don't stray too far from your real goal. Creating a new spell is dangerous and human transfiguration shouldn't be taken lightly. You have to get it exactly right or who knows what will happen."

"I know since you keep saying,"

"So long as you keep it in mind. Have you any further thoughts on what the base incantation will be yet?"

"Somehow, I think what I want will probably be too complex for even a three-component spell in Latin." He admitted tiredly.

Hermione hadn't needed much convincing to get on board with the idea. He saw how excited she was by her pulling out a notebook and furiously brainstorming immediately. They had all but discussed the matter nonstop once Harry returned from the prefect baths. Hermione promised to help him with the arithmancy side of the spell creation, she could process the statistics, make predictions on their success and calculate what their margins of error would be.

"I can see how that can be a problem. It isn't like we know any other root languages. Want me to look up some books on Old English? Perhaps Gaelic or Welsh for good measure?" She grew excited at the prospect of learning new root languages.

Harry tilted his head. "Isn't Welsh notoriously hard to pronounce?"

"Hmm true, but I doubt you could consider any of the three easy."

"What about Old Norse?"

"Also possible and now you have a better understanding thanks to um her now. So much more doable," She said and nodded thoughtfully. "I'll do some digging. But don't you think that trying to create a new spell out of a completely different root language might be creating too much work? There is only so much time left between now and the second task."

Creating a new spell would be less restrictive than going about transfiguring himself by going the route of potions - such as modifying the polyjuice formula to their needs. One of the key problems they came up with that idea was engineering the potion and getting ahold of the specific ingredients which would allow his body to mimic other creatures' biology. On top of that, there was a complicated brewing and reversal process. It took Hermione two weeks to go back from part cat in their second year. They had just under two months, time just didn't favour other solutions. An original spell created with a failsafe was the best option he had.

Harry laughed. "True. And I never thought I'd hear the words 'too much work' ever come out of your mouth. It isn't like we are exactly fluent in Latin after almost four years here."

"I'm semi-fluent now actually."

"Liar."

"Homines quod volunt credunt, Harry."

He rolled his eyes at her in disbelief. "And what other languages have you been learning?"

"Just bits of French, German and Italian from when I've been on holiday with my parents." She hummed with a self-satisfied smile. "Next summer is Greece, I'm by no means multi-lingual or fluent in them yet though. And I think next, I'd like to learn some Bulgarian from Viktor too."

Harry gave a short laugh. "Yeah, sure you do,"

Hermione blushed.

She really was a godsend. But what he needed next was to pick the brain of McGonagall and then the Weasley twins. Witnessing the Ton-Tongue Toffee first hand, their breakthrough with Canary-Creams and some of their other prototypes said it all. In Harry's eyes, their genius was criminally underrated, their input would be invaluable.

When they arrived at the staff room Harry gave a swift knock at the door. The door opened to reveal their Astronomy Professor. The smell of brass polish clung to her and oil smudged all along her arms. But somehow still she appeared incredibly elegant.

"Oh it's you, Professor." Harry said as he stared up at her.

He wasn't too surprised, he had seen Sinestra's name on the map when he checked it. With most of her lessons taking place after normal school hours, she spent a good portion of her time in the staff room. He always felt a little in awe of Sinestra for some reason.

"Hello Harry and Hermione," She greeted them with her usual kind smile. "What can I do for you two today?"

"We're looking for Professor McGonagall actually, is she in?" Hermione asked.

"She is. Excellent timing, I was just putting on some tea. Come in and sit down, would you like one?"

"Are we allowed?"

"Of course, we don't eat children before dinner. Your too sweet, it upsets the stomach." She joked flashing a brilliant smile.

Harry and Hermione let Sinestra guide them inside. They couldn't help but turn their heads as they soaked in every detail of the mythical staff room. It had a very homely feel and reminded them of their common room - only the decorations were in all four house colours and blended seamlessly. There were pigeon-hole cupboards for all their teachers, a noticeboard and what appeared to be a partially enclosed kitchen area.

On the other end of the room stood a large square table for staff briefings. On the wall behind it hung the enchanted hourglasses keeping track of house points and proudly displaying the house cup, blissfully unaware of how insignificant it had become. And in the centre of the room was a grouping of armchairs and sofas sat around a large single coffee table. This is where Professor McGonagall could be seen setting up for a game of wizard's chess. Her eyes following them over her half-rim glasses.

"What have you two done this time?"

"Nothing! I don't think so - not yet anyway." Harry was quick to protest his innocence and turned to Hermione, "Are we really always up to no good?"

"Clearly," Hermione said and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

The teachers always kept an ear out and McGonagall was no different. She had not enjoyed overhearing from a group of seventh year Slytherins about how Harry had been engaging in inappropriate behaviour at the ball and not for the first time either. While she had her doubts about its authenticity, it still left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Can I?" Harry asked, gesturing to the chessboard.

"Certainly." The edge of McGonagall's lips curled into a smile. "Now, if you are hoping to receive results for your homework from the holidays early you should know better. You will know at the same time as the rest of your class next week, once I have marked them all."

She finished setting up the chessboard and made her first move. Harry was again reminded of Ron's absence, he would probably have made a much worthier opponent.

"Actually Professor, we came to discuss some aspects of transfiguration with you." Hermione decidedly steered the discussion.

Extracting information like this was becoming too much of a habit Harry thought.

"And this couldn't wait until next lesson?" McGonagall arched her eyebrows suspiciously at them. Even if she didn't buy it because it was him and Hermione she wouldn't send them away.

"Sorry Professor, it's just a little outside the current curriculum so we didn't think it appropriate to take up lesson time from the others."

Professor Sinistra had finished making tea. She came over to sit with them, a cup for herself and placed another in front of McGonagall. Two more that had floated along with her hovering in front of Harry and Hermione.

"Ask away then."

The two of them politely accepted their tea and didn't waste any more time.

"We were hoping you could better help us understand what the limits of human transfiguration are." They began with a vague question.

McGonagall gave them a thoughtful look and took a long sip, "It should go without saying, there are many limits to human transfiguration. Just as there are limits to what is humanly possible with magic. The basics as you know: the size and complexity of the subject change increase the difficulty and the cost in magic rises proportionally. The human body is complex but once we know ourselves and what it is we are made up of that becomes the easy part."

"But, say you wished to transfigure several aspects of yourself," Harry cut in, "without committing yourself to the animagus ritual. Perhaps your aim is several separate cross-species changes. Specifically limbs so, muscles, bone, skin tissue and the lungs, all while keeping the human frame and mind. Would that be doable?"

Surprisingly, McGonagall did not look at him as if he was mad. Instead, she took his words seriously. "While keeping the human frame? I assume you mean keeping your torso, spine and head unchanged?"

"Well, if you make for a complete change without someone to transfigure you back and without being an animagus you are stuck then aren't you? The whole point of transfiguration is usually to make a permanent change."

"That would be correct. As long as you adhere to the laws of magic you can. But multiple changes does make for greater complexity but not to the point that it would be impossible. An elaborate spell such as that would not only require a powerful witch or wizard but clear and precise visualization." She emphasised this point most of all very specifically. "And since you are not making a single whole change but separate changes you would need a-"

"Multi-component incantation." Harry interrupted her impatiently. "We were thinking of three parts."

"At the least. I see you have already given this some thought." She pretended to be annoyed but her eyes gleamed a little too happily. "I have read that some wizards have managed it, long ago Professor Dumbledore being one of them as an experiment. But no spell has been officially been recorded to achieve this even to my knowledge. The many variables make it too difficult for others to replicate."

"Could you do it, Professor?"

She sat quietly again for a minute while she pondered. "Yes, I should think I could if I wanted, but I am not a performing ape here to satisfy your wild curiosities."

That was fair, Harry thought. She had reached the pinnacle of transfiguration by becoming an animagus already.

"These are some very fascinating and thought-provoking questions, it's good to see you have started to ask more and questions Harry." Aurora Sinestra clapped her hands together.

'Don't ask questions boy.' Aunt Petunia's shrill voice echoed through him. Harry felt a cool chill run down his back but smiled. He watched the woman as she wandered from behind them to sit beside McGonagall.

"And now you're looking at testing the limits of magic, how very youthful." She said.

"We've just been wondering if alternatives to the animagus ritual can be achieved. Like could a person turn themselves into a centaur for example." He shrugged.

Their transfiguration professor looked at him carefully and raised a brow. "Not the example you had in mind though is it? Without turning yourself completely into one animal with a human mind or transfiguring yourself into an animal and losing your humanity and spellcasting ability in the process. You think several partial transformations while retaining certain important human traits would be the most logical step. This would explain Pomona's comments about your recent interest in Gillyweed."

McGonagall had seen through them from the start, but it wasn't as if Harry had tried to be subtle either. It'd be unwise to try and deceive his head of house.

"Are you in need of a tail and fins, Mr Potter?" Professor Sinestra asked with amusement.

"Among other things," He replied with a cheeky grin.

"I expect this also entails the creation of an original spell?"

Harry and Hermione both looked at each other nervously.

McGonagall nodded as if she already knew everything she needed to know. "Remember the three tenants to Transfiguration. Understanding, deconstruction and reconstruction. You're highest priorities should be studying the physiology of what those changes are to be, the correct respiratory system and spinal structure especially. Spatial alignment is key. If you can't visualise correctly or understand the matter you are doomed to fail and cause yourself serious harm."

Perhaps choosing human transfiguration for his first time spell-crafting was incredibly stupid, but the challenge only made Harry want to succeed even more.

Sinestra crossed her legs and leaned forward with interest. "Ambitious and exciting. This will be your first-time spell crafting I imagine,"

"Yes," Harry answered feeling a little less confident.

"If I may offer some advice, practice each aspect of your changes separately under a simplified composition of the spell until you've mastered it. Once you can do each change individually you can attempt to string it all together into the whole spell, this will reduce the risks. It is not always wand movement, incantation and intent, although those are the standard. Figuring out the best methods for creating different spells comes with time but it gets a little easier, you can get a feel for it and start being more creative. But always remain careful and never overconfident. And do not ever work alone." Sinestra gave him an encouraging smile.

She made a very good point and Harry took it completely on board. He'd need to have Hermione close and armed with a range of detransfiguration spells just in case.

The vote of confidence for them wasn't lost on either of them. If it had gotten this far then both their teachers clearly believed in their abilities. Their individual talents complimented each other extremely well, well enough that not even McGonagall objected to their plan like he half-expected her to. Not that she could really stop them from trying. It only made him more certain that he was on the right path. Although it could also be because of the actual rules of the tournament which meant she could not actively help him and if not for that she might never allow them to try without supervision.

Harry glanced down at the chessboard and saw he was now within several moves of being in checkmate by McGonagall. She had just promoted her pawn into a queen. As she now began to take control of the board again all he'd be able to do was delay the inevitable.

Piece for piece, it was the same as the enlarged replica she had erected in his first year. This chess set wasn't like Ron's where the queen liked to shout at him and didn't trust his methods at all. Now that he could think more clearly he even managed to hunt and trap McGonagall's queen. This had been a shock to his Transfiguration professor who was forced to wake up and step up her game. But his usual aggressive strategy in attempts to restrict his opponent and take control of the game had a high price. With only one rook and bishop remaining, his defences crumbled too easily under McGonagall's counter-attacks.

When he had more time he felt like he should take the time to learn how to play a little smarter. With a grimace and a single tap, he knocked over his king in surrender. "We should be going now. Thank you for the game professor, and for the advice." He said turning to Sinestra.

"And Mr Potter," McGonagall called out. "Let's play again. If you are up to the challenge that is. Sunday afternoon at two o'clock I shall be in my office."

He grinned and nodded. Just as she had helped him with his duelling and she was seemingly prepared to do so again.

So engrossed had they been that neither he nor Hermione noticed the other faculty arrivals. Flitwick, Babbling and Vector had all been watching them with interest from the conference table. All the while Mad-eye stood by the door lurking too. His crazy eye remained fixed on Harry the entire time it took them to reach him. Harry thought it bizarre but had mostly gotten used to the strange fixation he had.

"Potter," He acknowledged.

"Cool socks you've got on today, sir."

They were already halfway out the door and grinning when he heard the ex-aura snarl behind them after looking down in a moment of lapsed vigilance.

"Well, that went better than expected," Harry said lightly.

"I'm surprised too. I imagine if they thought about putting a stop to it you might attempt something more dangerous, at least McGonagall can help guide your progress. You just know that's what she really wants to see you about on Sunday. We were even given a methodology to work with. I can make my target list for us now." Hermione beamed.

Harry had to resist a chuckle. "We were going to do things that way anyway, those were the same ideas you had."

"I know, it's just nice to confirm that was the correct and proper, most risk-reducing way."

"Yeah, Pomfrey would really lose her shit if we did something wrong and I ended up a horrible malformed sea monster."

"She definitely would, on that note, do you think it's possible the giant squid was once a student who they couldn't turn back?" She wondered aloud.

"If it becomes too big and too complex it can't be untransfigured, so yeah maybe. That would actually make sense. Though I'd have expected Dumbledore to be able to do it. But if he can't either... That's actually kind of scary to think about."

"Let's be extra careful then. I'd hate to have to throw you bread from the lakeside every day until I leave in seventh year."

"Every day? Wow you're always so thoughtful, Hermione."

Hermione hummed happily in agreement.

.

.

"Here, I believe I have found it," Daphne announced.

Sage had been burning all evening, its sweet smoke twisting above their heads. Astoria said she needed a deep cleanse and then they spent their evening continuing their search for scrying spells. Because of the beetle, and since she had already finished with tarots and tea leaves, she decided that it was a skill she should start learning immediately.

"One spell for group anamnesis, The Well of Recall." She placed her grimoire down on the table, allowing them to read the contents of its pages.

Of course, it had been Daphne to find the kind of spell they wanted; and from inside the grimoire no less. Tracey clicked her tongue in envy. The divination books Tracey and Astoria had been rifling through seemed so useless in comparison.

The Grimoire wasn't exactly indexed by subject and its contents vast. So it had taken Daphne longer than she originally anticipated to find the page she had once skimmed over and barely remembered. This particular page dated all the way back to 762, had been rewritten and updated several times - most recently by her great-great-grandmother in 1850.

"Peering so close into the past will make this easier, we have the broken glass we can use for a catalyst and the three of us have excellent synergy."

"Three chants from each of us. So, nine invocations in total. That's a good number." Astoria nodded in agreement.

"But don't we need like a crystal ball, a mirror or a bowl of water for this kind of spell? To act as the medium," Tracey asked.

"No need, Astoria is our medium. She will channel us, we will power the spell and she will connect with the fates. In theory, we should see what she sees."

Astoria tensed up a little. "This is an old spell, Queenie. My inner eye might be strong but we are nonetheless calling on higher powers to see into the past."

Tracey had to roll her eyes hearing that.

"I know. Unless we use a sacrifice or an offering we need a healthy amount of magic. Which is why I shall be channelling Caelum. I have no intentions of being shipped home like that again."

Astoria shook her head disapprovingly. "You're the one who decided to show off using wandless magic."

This time Tracey smirked. This could only have been caused by some small feeling of inferiority that he had provoked, a rare need to prove she was equal or more.

"Okay, so a portion from Tori, a third from me and Caelum provides the rest. Can we get this show on the road?" Tracey said. "I'm getting super hungry, it'd be good if we finished before dinner not after."

Daphne was beginning to lose her patience too. "Let's just practice the incantation first, dinner can wait. I should not have to remind you of the importance of delicacy and care over haste and negligence."

"Right, of course, of course," Tracey repeated with a sweet smile.

Daphne ignored it and pressed forward, unusually forceful in her instruction. While not unkind she was however strict, if not for Daphne's non-nonsense-at-all mood she would have jokes about spanking and flirted with ideas of 'punishment' but even she knew in this case to toe the line.

Even a couple hours later and Tracey was still being scolded on slight mistakes. And as Tracey grew more tired and berated she made more mistakes. While Astoria was as equally focused as Daphne, it seemed it was only her own stomach that whined to be fed. She could only endure and pout while the hours passed until they all had it perfected.

The broken glass was gathered into the middle of the table and surrounding it five candles were lit in the shape of a pentagram. Tracey, Astoria and Daphne all linked hands and closed their eyes.

"Atropos, Clotho, Lackesis." They began. "Moirai, theés tis moíras - Sas parotrýnoume - Deíxte mas to parelthón."

From nowhere a fierce wind entered the room. The torches were all blown out, leaving the three witches illuminated only by the candlelight.

"Atropos, Clotho, Lackesis. Moirai, theés tis moíras - Sas parotrýnoume - Deíxte mas to parelthón."

Astoria's eyes flew open completely white.

"Atropos, Clotho, Lachesis!"

Whispering voices and singing surrounded them on all sides. Tracey could feel herself detaching from the world as everything turned cold. It felt like she was slipping into a dark empty space.

"Moirai, theés tis moíras - Sas parotrýnoume - Deíxte mas to parelthón!"

They all gasped at the sudden sensation like they were falling. The space surrounding them turned dark like the dead of night. With threads of silver light floating by, together they drifted through the abyss. Until the whispering that seemed so endless and incomprehensible unified into a voice, one single female voice.

This was her best chance, Rita Skeeta told herself.

Everything was prismatic and compound, this had become second nature since her first transformation many years ago. But the glass of the beetle jar blurred and obscured the room around her. She knew she was in the Slytherin girl's dorms, she was more than familiar with her old house. It was near constantly dim and never saw the light of the sun. Since the reporter had been imprisoned her time spent had been quite unfruitful. And now she had almost lost count of the days.

Trapped and confined with no food and no water, it was slowly becoming unbearable even to her incredible and well-practised patience. That wasn't to mention the constant ogling by the girl, a lonely little thing who wasn't very interested in leaving her room much at all. She owned piles of books and kept trinkets of all sorts stuffed under her bed but none kept her entertained for long. Often all she could see of the outside were her two large blue eyes multiplied, looking down at her like an eldritch god. Astoria had even decided to name her 'Cleoptera' like some sort of pet for her own amusement. As if that wasn't humiliating enough, it was no wonder the little girl had no real friends of her own.

The last thing she remembered before waking up on the girl's bedside table was how Potter and the other Greengrass girl had spurned one another. The whole affair had been delicious start to end and it kept her steadfast about her current situation. She was hoping to glean more details or something even mildly useful from the younger sister but to no avail.

Whether she personally believed Harry Potter's word was irrelevant. She had a good sense for the current peacetime climate and Minister Fudge was highly averse to his perfect little bubble being burst. After Sirius Black escaped Azkaban and the attack at the Quidditch World Cup he'd rather obliviate himself than admit the country had another war on the horizon. Another war would call for a different kind of leader, a leader that was not Cornelius Fudge.

To boldly claim the return of You-Know-Who based on hearsay from Harry Potter or even from the whispers of two former ex-death eaters - if she ever wrote it - Fudge, by directive of his top political ally Lucious Malfoy, would put all pressure on her Editors-in-chief to make certain she'd never write for the Prophet again. But only for as long as Fudge and by proxy Malfoy remained in office. She couldn't see that being the case for much longer if what she heard was true, the writing was well and truly on the wall now.

As if she were licking her lips, her mandibles rubbed together greedily at the thought. With gold in her sights, Rita had waited and waited until it was finally time to escape.

The dormitories should have been empty again and with luck, she could escape the common room in no time. But no, the bratty little girl stubbornly refused to leave her room and had the audacity to call on her head of house to let her remain in bed.

But Rita just couldn't wait any longer. When the girl eventually went to wash up and took that threatening looking spider with her too, she knew it was time. She didn't need to think it over twice and waited until she could hear the faint crashing sound of a bath running. Rita shifted forms in quick succession. Beetle to human and back to beetle again - the jar exploded and glass rained down. Her wings carried her to the door where she made a run through the gap on all six of her tiny legs and flew up to the common room.

There were a few OWL and NEWT students studying through their free period. With them all concentrating hard and she safely scuttled along the floor unnoticed, only stopped briefly under one of the loungers before crawling up the wall to the ceiling. She kept her eyes on the common room exit and waited and waited.

The voice of an angry shriek could be heard from the dorms bellow and a moment of panic fell upon her, its vibrations even travelling up her legs. Her breakout had been discovered. Rita had to remind herself she was nearly there and Astoria had no idea where who or what she really was. Finally, the common room door opened revealing a young red-haired witch. Luck was finally smiling on her after such a miserable spell. Rita flew as fast as she could, narrowly avoiding getting crushed by the closing passageway.

The scene collapsed around them and the three witches felt like they had been shaken from a vivid dream. Light flooded their eyes and the scent of smoke refilled their senses. Tracey drank in as much oxygen as she could, seeing herself a hundredfold in the eyes of Rita was too strange.

This was her first time having an out of body experience. She had never felt magic envelope her entire being so completely. Her heart pounded in her chest relentlessly, even drumming in her ears so hard it was deafening. Like a potent cocktail, the composite mixture all three's magic was still rushing through her, it was an incredibly powerful feeling. The unfocused flickering in her vision subsided first, followed by the trembling in her hands and legs. But her lightheadedness and the coursing feeling of elation persisted.

Astoria had never described having visions or dreams like this before either. She always described flashing fragmented imagery, full of metaphors to be interpreted. This was too personal, Rita's thoughts had danced across their minds as if they were their own, like witnessing her memories from the inside.

Tori. She suddenly thought. Tracey panicked at the sight of her, she had been so caught up in the overwhelming after effect of the spell.

The younger girl had hung her head back. Blood was weeping from her eyes and trickled from her ears. Daphne was already kneeling beside her, clutching onto her sister's hands.

"You did amazing Tori, you did so well. On your first try, I am so proud and mother would be too." She said.

There was an apology in the way Daphne kissed her sister's palms. Astoria just nodded without the energy to give even a weak reassuring smile. Tracey noted how Daphne's legs were still tense and shaking.

"I don't th-think I should try that again v-very soon." She managed to stammer.

"Can I get you anything?" Tracey asked. She stood up to hover near, unsure of what to do.

She wanted to suggest taking her to the hospital wing but neither sister would agree to that. There was too much anxiety over appearing weak and inviting unnecessary questions. The fact she was bleeding made it obvious she wasn't ready for this level of magic. Tracey regretted ever having supported this idea. Brushing with powers that transcend time and consciousness, which had them all jacked up on something crazy as a result.

"No potions - just tea, mint please." Astoria answered calmly as she took in deep breaths.

Tracey nodded and walked to the side of the room where a tea set was ready and waiting. With the tap of her wand, she filled the pot with water and cast another charm to set it to boil. Daphne conjured a handkerchief to begin wiping away the blood.

"What a big mess you have stumbled into Queenie," Astoria said.

"Yes, you were right. Are you happy?" She rolled her eyes. "Not to worry though, it is only a beetle in the wind to take care of now."

As Tracey listened she noticed how Daphne didn't seem panicked at all, but there was a grave seriousness in her voice. She had been much more tightly wound prior to the spell. Knowing was better than being in the dark she supposed.

Skeeta being an animagus was unsettling information. The fact she had been so close to Astoria like that made Tracey's skin crawl. Stuck in the second year dorm room she wouldn't have been privy to much more than juvenile boy talk and gossip. But from where and when Daphne had retrieved the beetle, spying on her and Harry in the rose garden. A topic Daphne wouldn't even touch on with her best friend no matter how much she begged.

Tracey's desire to know burned even greater in the fog of ignorance.

For all Daphne had done in the pursuit of discretion only for it to be undone by the likes of Skeeta, Tracey thought it only right if she lost her composure a little. But no, Daphne tended to Astoria unfazed. She finished making the tea and brought it to the table. Time seemed to slow for them and no one appeared to have an idea of what to do next. They each drank deeply and felt a comforting warmth spread through them. The scrying spell drained each of them and had given them all something to ponder.

Astoria while she worried for Daphne, she hoped this would finally be the wakeup call to put an end to Daphne's meddling. Her concerns faded eventually as what became apparent now was how great and terrible the gift of sight could be.

Before falling into the well, there had only been obscure futures, distant and fragile. Seeing the past so definitively for the first time was like seeing herself for the first time. All at once she found herself on a chessboard and the very wedge which had split apart her family. She stood with a torch in the dark and held the keys to endless doors.

She stared at Daphne sitting opposite her. Still like a statue and swimming so deep in her own thoughts she hadn't so much as touched her tea. Daphne stood up suddenly causing the other two to sit forward in alarm. She snapped her fingers and the torches around the room all lit again.

"Caelum, I think it is time for a little hunt. Wouldn't you agree?"

Caelum replied with a tired yawn. He stretched out, dangerously unveiling his sharp little white claws. The black cat shook then himself, lowered his body as if getting ready to pounce and dove into her shadow. Tracey's eyes widened as he vanished completely behind Daphne's ankles.

Her brow furrowed. Now that she was thinking about it when was the last time she had seen Caelum? Surely with his cat's eyes, he would have noticed the beetle had magic, brimming with an aura the way only a witch, wizard or familiar could. Unless his focus had been entirely directed elsewhere.

A wolfish grin crept across Tracey's face. She circled around her friend and pushed Daphne back down into her seat.

"I think you have some explaining to do. Don't think you can just ignore me and block us out this time. That's not allowed. You are going to tell us everything, I want all the details."

"Must you really insist?" Daphne crossed her legs and folded her arms stubbornly.

"Yes, we must. Starting with the Ball. What went wrong there? What did he do to upset you so?" Tracey asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I upset him actually."

"Shocking." Tracey spun surprise into her voice.

"Everything was going well to start. We ate, we danced and we talked. It was perfect, and I assume he was happy to have my company," Daphne paused with uncertainty. "He kissed me."

"He did what?" Astoria spluttered.

"It is hardly that important." She waved her hand at them lazily.

"I disagree, this is huge news and very important. How was it? Good or bad? A little tongue or full-on snogging? Did he feel you up a bit - I bet he at least tried, right? Ugh, I wish I could've seen that. I'm so jealous."

"He did not put hands anywhere they shouldn't have been. Lovely and over far too quick. Not lasting nearly long I would have liked. He even confessed to me that he liked me." Daphne stared hard into her teacup regretfully.

"I'll bet he did, you are a catch Daph." Tracey giggled with glee. "This is amazing."

"But doesn't explain why you isolated yourself or why you have been so gloomy. Well, gloomier than the usual." Astoria, however, was far less amused. She already felt that there was something deeper to this little tale.

"I responded by throwing myself at him helplessly like a depraved tart. I only showed up to say goodbye because of that little surprise I almost didn't go through with it. That is when we overheard Snape and Karkaroff talking of Voldemort's return."

Feeling her blood run cold, Astoria's eyes widened. She had to hold her hands over her mouth to stop herself gasping.

"Following that I told him; I could not pursue a relationship of any kind. He did not react kindly, but I think could understand my decision. In his own way."

Daphne conveniently omitted the detail about her mild breakdown which fatefully led to getting her hands on Rita.

"Understand that you're a coward?" Tracey said with a cocky smirk. "No wonder he's done with you."

She had gotten over her surprise about Voldemort quickly. Even though her muggle-born mother left Britain to escape Death Eater attacks, the name Voldemort didn't hold as much weight over her.

Daphne's eyes lit up briefly. "Forgive me, but I am not putting either of you in the sights of those remaining purist murderers by fooling around with Harry Potter. I won't."

"One kiss and you use the most convenient reason to turn heel and run. Using us as an excuse? Tut-tut shame on you Daph. Potter was always going to have enemies. It didn't stop you introducing yourself and reaching out your hand in the first place." Tracey stood up. "The very hand you're hoping he will put a ring on once we are out of school."

"Do not think you can just summarise me as some frail lovesick little bird." She said through her teeth. "Harry is more to me than you can possibly fathom. The timing is just wrong."

In spite of the venom in her best friend's voice, Tracey laughed again. Frail wasn't a word she'd use describe Daphne. She already guessed Daphne anticipated it would take much longer for her and Harry to even become good friends. Perhaps years for him to trust her let alone requite her feelings. The speed at which everything progressed had sent her expectations all awry.

"At least you'll admit that much. I'd be surprised if you're not writing both your names in little hearts in your grimoire. So deep down you do want to be Mrs Daphne Metheven Potter."

Daphne hissed, slamming both hands on the table but she was blushing red like a rose. She glared as Tracey slowly continued to prowl around the table until she stood behind Daphne again. She drew in and wrapped her arms around her, her delighted laughter tickling the back of Daphne's neck.

Astoria was holding in her breath, her chest tight as she watched. She felt Daphne was right to wash her hands of him, even if it was torturing her.

Tracey wore a large victorious smile and whispered in her ear. "Tell me I'm wrong."

In their many years as friends, there was finally weakness in Daphne's walls and Tracey wasted no time attacking it mercilessly.

.

.

Much later that night the Headmaster had travelled on foot from the school through the bleak January night to a familiar avenue away from the high street of Hogsmead.

"Good evening Abe," Dumbledore greeted, as he stepped through the door of his brother's dingy pub, the Hog's Head.

He tapped his shoes free from clumps of snow and quietly locked the door behind him. The pub smelled of a homebrewed sour apple cider and the unmistakable animal musk mixed with some remnant of vomit. There were no patrons tonight and the bar was empty save his brother's goat, which bleated at him for his disturbance.

From the corner, he spotted a large man with thick matted grey hair and a beard smoking a pipe. His goat stomped it's hooves impatiently.

"Quiet Justinia it's only Albus," Aberforth Dumbledore grumbled without a trace of welcome or affection for his brother. "Your guests arrived a couple of hours ago. I've given them food and a room."

"As always, your hospitality is appreciated." Dumbledore could infer he didn't want them staying too long.

Albus smiled kindly, which Aberforth always found it to be unsightly. Estranged as they were, he was never fooled by the gentle teacher charade his brother had crafted over the decades. Even if Aberforth could say his brother did his best to do good, he would never forget the fanatical arrogant young man he once was.

Albus did not waste time to intrude on him any further and took to the stairs. At the end of the narrow landing, he entered a small guest room.

Awaiting him inside was Remus Lupin, he stood immediately when the headmaster entered. Sirius, in his dog form, sat up on the bed.

"No need for hiding here, this establishment is quite safe I can assure you." Dumbledore raised his hand in an attempt to dispell their caution.

Relieved, Sirius shifted back into his human self, looking far less dishevelled but still as equally worn and weary as Remus standing next to him.

"I was expecting your return much sooner." The headmaster raised his eyebrows slightly.

"There were complications, specifically a spook that tracked us. We had to separate and double-back in case we were being tailed. We weren't. "

"One of Bones'?" Dumbledore stroked his beard with concern.

Remus shook his head. "Didn't look like it. Her robes told us she belonged to Intacor, but she was there on a personal favour. Wearing her robes and showing her face was a deliberate attempt to gain our trust."

Hearing the name Intacor came as a small surprise, it was one in which he was very familiar. The International Auror Corps was created as a division within the ICW to combat Grindelwald in the last years of that war. Inatcor were charged with gathering and sharing intelligence on cross-continent criminal activity. Detaining dangerous Wizards and Witches who threatened the Statute of Secrecy who frequently traversed borders was another primary function. But as the interests and hands of power within the ICW changed Intacor reflected those changes. Operating in a moral grey area, they were more spies, mercenaries and hitwizards than actual aurors in recent years.

"She guessed pretty quickly we were there on your instruction and what we were doing there."

Dumbledore nodded with understanding, revealing their identity could be extremely dangerous in that line of work. He was now quite curious about this person but felt the two in front of him were being vague to avoid exposing her position further.

"And what made this operative take such a great risk in exposing herself to you?"

"To negotiate peace, she was delivering a letter. Handed it off to Remus but it was addressed to me." Sirius stood up and began to pace. "It was sent by my cousin Andromeda, trying to broker a meeting between Narcissa and me."

"Mrs Malfoy?" Dumbledore found himself unsure if he should breathe a little easier, this had been completely outside his expectations. "Hm, Andromeda is now a well respected as a legal adviser with strong ties to the International Aura Corps and the DMLE included, her daughter Nymphadora was one of Alastor's very last cadets. What is it do you think Narcissa wants?"

"To lure me into a trap." Sirius shrugged. "Though if she convinced Andromeda to reach out to me maybe not. I don't know, we haven't spoken in over a decade."

"Perhaps you should try to make peace with her," Dumbledore added hopefully.

Sirius responded with a disingenuous bark, he saw through Dumbledore's obvious attempt to try and gain a new political ally, someone able to sellout Lucius Malfoy would be a great boon. Either that or he had grown naive in his old age. "Not likely Albus. Lucius owns her now and she never had a problem with that before."

"Consider the possibility, with her son in the same situation as Harry is in now, that it is a problem? Might I remind you that many mothers will sacrifice everything in order to protect their children? She will have changed a great deal from the girl you grew up with."

Cissa's nothing like Lily. Sirius frowned. The thought of her ever wanting to stop being a Malfoy and return to Black made his heart stop.

"These are your family matters, Sirius. The decision on how you wish to respond ultimately lies with you. One last thing before we get back to business, were you seen?" Dumbledore's blue eyes found his.

"Only as Snuffles the dog." He shrugged. "Should I be worried?"

"That is too difficult to say at the moment. If she really is a friend of Andromeda's and wasn't there in an official capacity she might have no interest in your identity or arrest, that doesn't mean she won't try to sell or share her intelligence."

Dumbledore quickly realised that since she did have personal ties and that Remus and Sirius left out her name they likely knew of her already. So, she was likely a natively British witch and a Hogwarts alumni from their school years. If she did know about Sirius, with the way this mysterious figure had given away her identity so freely meant that both parties had equal amounts of leverage. Then again, that could have just been a well-crafted disguise.

As Supreme Mugwump Dumbledore did have the power to find out for himself just who this spy was. He only needed to ask the right friends and colleagues he had in the ICW. As a British witch, she would have undoubtedly been handled by Amelia Bones or her predecessor in some capacity before transferring over to Intacor.

"And to your investigation in Albania, what did you find there?" Dumbledore finally asked.

The expressions of the two men darkened.

"We found the remains of Bertha Jorkins, as you suspected. Hard to say what killed her, there wasn't much left. I think we can assume it was the work of the killing curse."

Dumbledore sat down on the bed and hunched over, his long white beard almost touching the dusty floorboards.

"I'll need her precise location. Then I shall have to tip off Madam Bones, her family should know the truth of her fate." He said gravely. While he had long suspected this his eyes still flooded with sadness.

"At least with her body there is cause for a full investigation from the DMLE- rather than being left as a cold case."

"I wouldn't pin any of our hopes on the ministry suddenly acting competent, Mooney."

"No Sirius, Remus is quite correct. Now there is Bertha's corpse for them to identify this is no longer a matter of expending limited resources into a mysterious case of a missing person abroad. The DMLE can act alongside Albania and Intacor and with luck arrive at the conclusions we are already aware of."

Dumbledore didn't need to say it to either of them. Despite being exposed as the traitor, Peter Pettigrew was more dangerous than ever now he was again under Voldemort's instruction.

"You've not explained that yet, Albus." Remus said, "both you and Harry are saying Voldemort isn't really dead. How is that possible? He's supposed to be gone, 'destroyed' were your words if I remember."

It was a question that had been bothering Remus for a long time. If he hadn't been killed what had it all been for? The losses they all endured almost seemed in vain and for ten years they had been living in an empty hollow victory, worse yet for Sirius who spent ten years in hell.

"That night on Halloween, only Voldemort's physical body was destroyed by Lily's sacrifice. But he exists still as a spirit of sorts, a detached presence desperately clinging onto this plane. In his recent attempts to return Harry has faced him twice now and thwarted him again and again, since coming to Hogwarts I am sorry to say."

As Dumbledore expected the two men stared in disbelief, that quickly became outrage. But he needed to confess his sins, he could not hold it in any longer.

"Twice? How could you let this happen? He's a child - you of everyone should be able to keep him safe!" Sirius' anger boiled over.

"Arrogance, failures and mistakes of an old man who believes he knows best. But I think we can all agree from what we have seen, he is no simple child."

"I'll be the first to admit, he is definitely in many ways years beyond his classmates but still…" Remus began.

"This isn't about his abilities Remus, but his mind and attitude. The result of my greatest mistake." Dumbledore's haunted stare troubled the other two men. "I very much doubt you will hear it from him but I robbed Harry of his childhood the day I left him alone on the doorstep of the Dursleys. Has Harry ever mentioned them to you?"

"Only that they were difficult to live with and he did not like them much." Remus answered, unease swelling in his gut.

"I am afraid he is severely downplaying just how difficult they have made his life. Minerva warned me and I failed to listen. I believed in the blood protection Lily granted him. I created wards that guarded the homestead using the bond of blood between Harry and his Aunt."

"Blood magic?"

"Is not inherently evil and I only expanded upon what Lily provided, but I do not think she intended for it to be used that way. I thought he'd be safest there far away from the magical world and his fame. Instead, he came to Hogwarts malnourished, half-starved, scarred both physically and mentally from his time there. He hid it almost too well, but when Promfrey first had him in the hospital wing - I did not want to believe what I had sentenced him to."

Remus and Sirius' anger and shock left them without words, but their pained expressions said more than enough. Overwhelming horror and disgust were so strong they felt like they were going to be sick. They did their best to remain composed, they knew Dumbledore wasn't finished yet.

"Despite this, he showed adequate social skills and a small group of friends formed even without much common ground to tie them. Still, I was highly relieved as I feared he would choose the familiar safety of solitude without discovering the value and joys of true friendship." He stroked his beard as he recounted his first impressions.
"For the rest of his that year, he remained curious and well mannered but defiant in ways that reminded everyone of James. And for all the concerns I had and my larger plans for that year, I failed spectacularly to realise how sharp he was too. A sharpness that went hand in hand with defiance and recklessness. He always had questions and he chased those questions headfirst into the greatest of dangers."

"The philosopher's stone, you had the stone hidden in Hogwarts and Harry went after it." Remus' gaze burned through the headmaster.

"To my greatest surprise, he only wanted to protect the stone from my incompetence and thus prevent Voldemort's return. When I learnt the trap I set up for Voldemort's shade for when he inevitably attempted to steal the stone had been sprung, it was Harry at the centre having faced and defeated him at eleven. Just saying it aloud sounds absurd but it is true. Harry's trials and dare I call it a victory came with a cost. Quirrell whom, Voldemort's spirit had been leeching off of, did not survive the encounter. Lily's sacrifice had manifested in unique ways, he still blames himself. I cannot excuse myself for turning Hogwarts into a target, the same school where Harry walked its halls... I only thought to try once more to play the game with Voldemort and win."

"You've abused your positions of power too much, Albus. Not just Harry but exposing other children to monsters. If the parents found ever out-" Remus started, and he was justifiably angry; for all he had to put up with after being exposed as a werewolf.

Dumbledore knew he had been too arrogant, suspecting that Quirell was a simple agent and having Severus watching him at all times would eliminate any threat he posed to the children. He had been so certain that Voldemort was hiding somewhere in the forbidden forest after Harry had been attacked there and he had been so very wrong.

"I would lose my remaining support with the board of governors. I'd be sacked and disgraced rather quickly I imagine." Dumbledore said unconcerned. "Lucius Malfoy tried it when he gambled on opening the Chamber of Secrets the following year and nearly succeeded."

Sirius watched as Dumbledore wore half a smile, clearly amused by a memory of something.

"Voldemort again?" He said quietly through gritted teeth.

"His shade from the past this time, young Tom Riddle. For once I found myself truly powerless to stop what was happening. I had no knowledge of the Chamber's whereabouts and if I did, I'd not be able to enter without a parselmouth like Harry. The school was on the verge of being shut down."

"And Harry succeeded where you failed. Found the chamber, killed a basilisk and saved Ginny Weasley." Remus' disapproving voice hung over them.

"When Dobby the elf told me Harry had entered the chamber... All I could do was ask Fawkes to aide him and he emerged victoriously again. Despite all odds."

Something smelled off, Remus thought. Dumbledore was never so forthcoming without a reason.

"What are you really trying to tell us Albus?" He asked, narrowing his eyes full of suspicion.

"Before I knew it the boy in front of my eyes was already more than halfway to being a wizard of age. His time at Hogwarts healed him much quicker than the years I was initially expecting. He became more adjusted, remained steadfast and principled in his ideologies. But with experience comes cynicism and suspicion. It chills me the strength he has, of what he can do when he puts his mind to it - what he is willing to do. You've both seen it yourselves."

"He is extraordinary we can all agree on that." Sirius nodded.

"This may be difficult for you to accept because Harry is James and Lily's child. You must prepare yourselves for the reality that Harry and Tom will continue to fight each other and in the end, one will die."

"You've gone mad." Sirius snapped. "You might be old Albus but you can't expect Harry to carry a war on his shoulders." He clutched his wand in his hand, his knuckles turning bone white.

"No more or less mad than I always have been. It isn't about what I expect only what I believe to be true. No matter how much we interfere or try to protect or hide Harry, they will find a way to face each other. It's their fate. Neither can live while the other survives."

"What does that mean?"

Dumbledore allowed silence to swallow them, patiently sitting until he had their complete attention so that he would not be interrupted.

"My belief comes from reason. The reason is that just before Harry was born a prophecy was made. One that foretold of the birth of the one who would end Lord Voldemort. Born as the seventh month dies to those who thrice defied him and he shall mark him as his equal."

"This is why you sent James and Lily into hiding." Remus's said in a low voice.

"They didn't want to believe me at first either. But I heard it here, in this very room myself. A copy was made and now it lies in the Hall of Prophecies deep in the Department of Mysteries."

Sirius glanced down at his wand, he remembered how helpless he felt seeing Godric's Hollow with Hagrid howling in the street holding his infant godson.

"Why Harry?" He asked desperately.

"Why indeed. Perhaps there is no rhyme or reason and he was simply chosen. I have often thought surely there must be some arithmatical theory yet to be discovered. It is a tale as old as time when darkness rises light must meet it."

"Is that what it was for you and Grindlewald? Were you given a destiny before you were even born, Albus?" The full moon wasn't even close but still, Remus felt the wolf inside growl feeding off his anger.

The old headmaster frowned. "No, but I suppose I always knew that it would have to be me to defeat Gellert in the end. Or maybe I was prophesied and I was just never made aware, just as Harry is presently unaware but yet feels compelled to fight Tom."

"Can't we just hide him? Have him run. The world is large enough to get lost in."

"It is too late for that I imagine and Harry is no coward. Running and hiding in shame is no way to live and Tom would chase him for eternity. Neither can live while the other survives. It's too personal now, destiny or not. Harry was instrumental to his fall and debilitated him. Tom stole the lives of James and Lily before Harry could even know them. Revenge, justice, scores have to be settled. I could stem the tide of this fight for a while but as you say I am old, and Tom has the means to return to from the brink of death. I will do everything I can to help Harry but someone must pick up the torch should I depart before this fight finishes."

Sirius rubbed his chin, "How is Harry supposed to finish this then? Or does he simply fight and defeat him over and over again and each time Voldemort still comes back - until he either doesn't or until Harry fails?"

"That might be one way." Dumbeldore's amused smile slowly faded. "It is not that Tom can't be killed. He has but taken great lengths to prevent himself from passing on. Tom's current existence is but a shade and is one of great pain and suffering, but it is still an existence he prefers over death."

"He isn't completely immortal then. Well, that's something at least."

"How?" Remus asked the all-important question.

"Dark magic that ought to be forgotten. I have done my best to keep those easily drawn into such temptations from stumbling their way upon its soft whispers - the same way Tom once did. And Harry, as luck or fate would have it, unknowingly took the first step in undoing what has been done. It will just take some time."

Sirius began to pace, neither he or Remus had any real idea of what Dumbledore was talking about, and the headmaster was content to give them only the vaguest of clues of their situation.

"I take it Voldemort knew all about the Prophecy too then since he ended up targeting the James, Lily so heavily?"

"Not all of its exact contents were revealed to him but he knew enough for him to connect it to the Potters, yes. When he went after young Harry he sealed both their fates."

Silence befell them on all sides. Dumbledore could see the questions that were growing in the two men and this was not a topic or task he believed was for them to be burdened with. Dumbledore feared where this line of questions lead to, they were half a step from linking Snape's turn-around to spying for the order and time of the prophecy being made.

"After tomorrow, I think it best you split up for a time." He interrupted their line of thought. "I shall keep an eye open and an ear out within the ministry and the ICW. Hopefully, no link between yourself, Sirius and his animagus form are revealed within the DMLE and Intacor."

"Then we'll know Andromeda's friend can be trusted, for now anyway." Sirius said and held his head in hands. He was still trying and failing to process all that Dumbeldore had laid before them. Dealing with Narcissa seemed like such a low priority now.

While he wanted to vilify Dumbledore - crucify him even, he also felt he had no right to do so. Each of the three men felt like they had failed Harry.

"I will write to you about future updates on Harry's well being and news of the ministry's progress in capturing you, Sirius. I expect that I will be needing to reassemble the Order soon in the future. I hope I can still count on you both."

"Then, I'll return to my kind in the underground and lay low there," Remus resigned with a polite nod.

"I'm staying. We found a cave in the mountains for Buckbeak, he could do with the company and I want to remain close in case anything happens."

"You should meet. It'll do you both some good to see each other again, send him my best." Remus gave a meaningful look and patted him on the shoulder.

"We're not done here yet, Albus."

Dumbledore stopped dead in his tracks before he could reach the door and turned around slowly.

"Harry needs to be told," Sirius growled at him, anger dancing in his dark eyes again.

"Sirius, I agree with you completely but I must ask you to indulge me a little longer. It must be me who does so, I owe it to him more than any of us. When the time is right I will tell him everything."

"Then why haven't you? With all that faith don't you trust him enough or is it that you don't think he isn't ready yet?"

"You have it all wrong, my friends. It is that I find myself not yet ready. I must find the strength to look him the eye when I tell him the truth. Goodnight gentlemen." Dumbledore excused himself and allowed them some space to rest and think.

AN - Hey again! Dw still not dead yet. I took a break and spent two months playing Destiny 2, FE3H and catching up on some shows instead of just finishing up with this final bit.

I guess we really are venturing into hard magic system territory now. I have a little document called about the rules of magic so it should help me give some consistency as we explore the different branches.

As for this last scene, I know it ended as just another canon recap so sorry about that. I don't think I remember one being written between these three at least not like this so I hope it's an original enough take. I felt like this is really just an important conversation that really should have happened.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter as always. I've gone over this many times looking for any errors but a couple may have slipped through the cracks they always do.

Thank you for reading this far. Let me know what you think in the reviews/pms