Chapter Text
Harry exited the chamber of the Wizengamot to stretch his legs. Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock, had called for a fifteen minutes recess. Although this meeting wasn’t mandatory especially for guests such as himself, Harry had opted to attend. He was already at the Ministry of Magic to petition for a name change. Lord Black’s last wish was for Harry to adopt the name of Harry Arcturus Black. Harry accepted his lord’s wish and waited until he turned fourteen before he could petition the Ministry of Magic. The day of the petition coincided with the Wizengamot emergency meeting, and Harry figured he could request to attend as a guest. He wanted to attend various Wizengamot meetings under different circumstances to build a repertoire of every member and their motives. He had already attended criminal hearings, judicial hearings, but never an emergency meeting. The meeting was to discuss the budget allocations for the Triwizard Tournament. Apparently, Bartemius Crouch Sr. had made some questionable choices, which would result in overspending or money laundering.
As Harry paced in circles in the hallway outside of the chamber of the Wizengamot, he smelled the waft of a flowery perfume as a presence came to a halt behind him. He turned around to find none other than Lady Potter, the redheaded mudblood that abandoned him as a baby. She wore a simple but elegant purple dress and beige shoes with heels as long as a wizard’s wand. It did wonders for her regal but feminine posture. Even for an emergency meeting only the wealthiest wizarding families had attended, Lady Potter was dressed to impress.
Harry bowed in respect and said, “Lady Potter.” His tone was cold but composed.
He saw the flickers of grief in her heart, but they vanished behind occlumency shields. “How are you, Harry?” She asked.
“Fine. Is there anything I can help you with, Lady Potter?”
“I … I just …” she shuttered for a moment, which unwittingly answered Harry’s question. He knew why she came to talk to him, and he mentally rolled his eyes. He thought he had been clear about his feelings towards her and her family, but apparently, her stubbornness was rearing its ugly head again.
He sighed and shook his head. “Let me guess,” he started, “you heard about my petition to change my name. The last vestige of my connection to the Potters. You figured you’d appeal to me before it was too late. You knew your appeals would fail, but here you are anyways. Speaking of appealing to me, let’s see if I remember your greatest hits over the years. ‘I’m sorry’ … ‘It was supposed to be temporary’ … ‘Your grandfather took advantage of our moment of weakness’ … ‘Please, give us a chance’ … ‘You will always be welcomed with us’ … And my personal favorite: ‘I love you.’ Did I miss anything, Lady Mudblood?”
Harry saw as the flickers of grief returned in her eyes. He saw as she tried to suppress them behind occlumency shields, but the flicker grew in a blaze of pain in her eyes. Her occlumency shields couldn’t contain her pain, and her eyes bled with sorrow. “Plea — Please,” she muttered. “I just … Harry, please.”
Harry scoffed in disgust. “It’s Heir Black,” he retorted. “We’re not familiar enough for first names. Especially after you aband —” His words died in his throat as he felt waves of magic surrounding his being. Hunger awoke in his belly, growling and salivating. Harry reached out for the transfigured mokeskin pouch necklace around his neck to siphon magic and feed the hunger, but the beast roared in defiance. The powerful artifacts inside the mokeskin pouch were mere scraps compared to the buffet of magic surrounding him.
With the hunger growing restless and vowing retaliation, Harry searched his surroundings for the source of the potent magic. His eyes locked on the barefooted Heiress of House Lovegood. She was wearing a cyan dress made of what Harry assumed to be acromentula silk, the default clothing material for the elites of magical society. The sigil of House Lovegood was embroidered on the left of her chest. She radiated wealth and power, a lot more power than any thirteen-year-old ought to have.
Harry could sense the waves of magic weren’t emanating from inside Luna’s body; they radiated from the winged-heart locket resting on her chest. Every wave of magic crashing against Harry’s body sent shocks of electricity coursing through his veins. The hunger in his stomach howled as it salivated. “I have to have it,” he thought to himself, but his voice sounded like a growl.
“Hey, Harry,” Luna greeted. “What are you doing out here? I thought you’d be — Lady Potter? Were you crying?” Luna furrowed her eyebrows. “Oh … I’m interrupting, aren’t I? I’m so sorry.”
Harry shook his head, “It’s fine. She was leaving.” A whine escaped Lady Potter’s lips before her shoulders sagged in defeat. She wiped her face, gave Luna a somewhat genuine smile, then left for the door leading to the Chamber of the Wizengamot. Harry waited a few moments for the chamber’s door to close before turning his attention to Luna. “Heiress Lovegood,” he said with a bow of respect.
Luna chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Enough of this grownup nonsense,” she retorted.
Harry smiled, shaking his head. “You’ll be Lady Lovegood one day,” he said. “You won’t be able to escape all the ‘grownup nonsense’.”
“Yeah well, I’m not Lady Lovegood yet, so enough of this grownup nonsense already.”
Harry chuckled. “Fair enough. So how are you?”
“Good,” Luna responded with a nod. “I just came back from a walk to the Department of Mysteries, and you won’t believe what I found.”
Harry cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? And what was it this time? Nargles? Gulping Plimpies?”
Luna closed the distance between them and leaned on his ear. “It was actually a version of you from another world,” she whispered before straightening herself.
Harry’s eyebrows rose above his forehead until he felt them fall off his head. “That’s a new one,” he commented.
“It surprised me too,” Luna retorted with a nod. “He talked about you and how he wanted to take over your body. I told him he wouldn’t succeed because your head is full of Wrackspurts.”
“Ah, there it is. Wrackspurts have saved the boy-who-lived.”
“Luna,” a firm but loving voice beckoned from behind the pair. They glanced at the source and found Xenophilius standing at the entrance to the Chamber of the Wizengamot. “Come on, sweetheart. There is someone I’d like you to meet.” He glanced at Harry and nodded. “Heir Black.”
Harry bowed in return. “Lord Lovegood.” He glanced at Luna standing before him and said. “You might want to avoid talking to any alternate versions of me. Some of them might be evil.”
Luna chuckled. “Nonsense. The boy-who-lived is the chosen one. He can’t be evil.” She approached Harry again and pulled him in a hug. “Watch out for the Wrackspurts, by the way. Too much of anything is always a bad thing.”
Harry smiled and winked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Luna waved at him and went to her father who cocked an eyebrow when he noticed his daughter’s feet. Harry felt the waves of magic emanating from Luna’s locket growing farther and farther, and the hunger in his stomach whined in protest. “I have to have it,” Harry whispered to himself as well as the hunger. “One way or another, it’s got to be mine.”
*****
Harry woke up in the fourth year Slytherin dormitory and found himself alone in the room. He casted a wandless and silent tempus, which indicated he would miss breakfast. He swore to himself he’d never pull another all-nighter reading some anonymous journal about wand making. He groaned in his pillow, but rose to his feet and headed to the washroom.
Within the next fifteen minutes, he was ready. His robes were made of the finest acromentula silk, and his boots were made of dragon hide. Lord Black had always insisted on the importance of presenting oneself with the utmost class. The heir and eventual lord of a Most Ancient and Noble house should always look his best, no matter the circumstances. Harry nodded to himself as he finished fixing his tie. He grabbed his backpack beside his bed, but his hand froze as it hovered above the nightstand where the brown leather journal sat, with Harry’s Holly and Phoenix feather wand used as paperweight. Harry didn’t want to grab his want because he didn’t want to feel its rejection again.
For the past two days, his wand had been resisting him. He noticed it after leaving the emergency Wizengamot session. He ignored his wand’s resistance and continued with his day. However, as hours ticked by, his wand’s resistance grew in severity. Spells that he had mastered under Lord Black’s tutelage required more and more power to perform. He was always the first to succeed at casting a spell in class, followed shortly after by Hermione Granger, Rose Potter, and Daphne Greengrass.
The tables turned the previous day when he had failed to perform a basic Banishing Charm during Charms. Depulso was a spell that he had mastered before he visited Ollivander with Lord Black, and he could cast it wandlessly. As if things couldn’t get any worse, the brown-haired mudblood succeeded in her first attempt, which shocked the whole class. The smug smile on her face had angered Harry more than he cared to admit. He wasn’t a nerdy bookworm that needed to have the best scores in class; he needed the best scores to assert House Black’s dominance. The fact that he failed a simple spell, and that a mudblood succeeded and had the gall to taunt him? He was seething.
After the class ended, he went to the Room of Requirements where he summoned Kreacher and ordered him to research everything there was about wand making. When he returned to his bed last night, he found a brown leather journal and a piece of parchment, lodged a bit over halfway through the journal. Harry opened the journal at the bookmarked spot, and read the note on the parchment. Kreacher was urging him to read the annotated sections.
The longer Harry read the journal, the more infuriated he grew. A wand only resisted its current user if its allegiance belonged to someone else. In order to win a wand’s allegiance, one needed to disarm or kill the wand’s current master. The last person to disarm Harry was Voldemort, who was possessing Professor Quirrell. That had been three years ago, and Harry had bested the duo. His wand never resisted him, not until that goddamn Wizengamot session with Luna Lovegood and her golden locket.
Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he growled. “It’s because of that goddamn locket. It radiates enough magic to power up the whole fucking sun, and I swear, I’ve seen it somewhere. All of this nonsense with my wand started after Luna hugged me goodbye. I wanted to get that locket because of the powerful magic inside of it, but now, I need it to get my wand’s allegiance back.” With a firm nod, he pulled his wand out of the journal. “Kreacher,” he beckoned.
With a faint pop, the elf of House Black appeared before him and bowed. “Yes, Master Black?”
“Whose journal is this?”
“It belonged to Master Licorus Black,” the house elf retorted.
“One of my ancestors studied wand making,” he whispered to himself. “Interesting. Did you find anything else with the task I gave you?”
Kreacher nodded, “Yes, Master Black. Kreacher found that Master must meditate if they wish to gain the wand’s allegiance.”
Harry cocked an eyebrow. “How do you know I’ve lost my wand’s allegiance?”
“House elves are magical, Master Black. House elves see magical pathways.”
“I see. Anyways. Return the journal where you found it.”
“Right away, Master Black.” Kreacher bowed to Harry, took the journal, and disapperated with a pop.
Harry glanced down at the Holly and Phoenix feather wand in his hand. Even far away from Luna and her locket, his wand still resisted him. He gritted his teeth, his blood boiling in his veins. “I need to use wandless magic until I get my wand’s allegiance back,” he thought. “I can’t have the school think House Black is slacking behind a fucking mudblood. And Luna … Oh, you’re going to pay for humiliating me. No one touches House Black without consequences.”
He placed the wand in its holster and left the Slytherin dormitory. It was Wednesday, which meant Divination with the lunatic fraud that always predicted his death, History of Magic with Lady Potter, Arithmancy with Septima Vector, and finally, Astronomy with Aurora Sinistra. Harry didn’t even bother going to breakfast since he knew he’d be late for class. He went to Divination class where he sat at the back of the room and waited. Slowly, students trickled inside the room until everyone was accounted for. As always, Rose was at the front with Hermione Granger and Susan Bones. Behind them were the Patil twins, and behind them were the Weasley loud mouth and Neville Squibbottom. Draco and his cronies came after with Daphne preening between Draco’s group and Neville’s. As for Harry, Nott sat on his left, and Zabini was on his right. The rest of the room was filled with the other fourth years Harry couldn’t care less about.
Harry waited for the attendance calls, responded to his name, then fell into his occlumency meditations while his body went on autopilot and pretended to be an attentive student. He needed to find a way to rid Luna of her necklace without raising any red flags. He was tempted to use his signature Harry Potter charm, but Luna wasn’t exactly his type. The heiress of a Noble House walking around barefooted was a major turnoff. Besides, she always had the uncanny ability to see through people’s actions, as though she could read minds. He could try purchasing it outright or trading it for something of equal monetary value, but the locket could be sentimental, therefore priceless.
“If it comes down to it, I’ll ask Kreacher to get it for me,” he thought to himself. “But in that case, I’ve got to be careful. I can’t let anyone see me with it.”
By the end of the class, Harry resurfaced from his meditation to find Professor Trelawney predicting his death at the end of the day. Apparently, Harry’s own shadow would kill him. “Fucking fraud,” Harry snarled in his head. He grabbed his backpack and headed to History of Magic. He didn’t have a solid plan to gain the locket, and occlumency meditation during a class with Lady Potter was a bad idea. Especially since she was always hyper-attentive to his every movement. He needed to be at his best behavior.
Harry ran into a few of Beauxbatons’ students as he made his way towards the North Hall. Some of them were certainly attractive, but Harry didn’t quite understand most of the boys’ infatuation. He knew most Hogwarts students didn’t have occlumency shields strong enough to withstand the Veela allure, but even Beauxbatons’ non-Veela populace were leaving most of Hogwarts’ boys speechless. “Blue balled virgins,” he thought as he entered the classroom where he found Professor Potter seated at her desk. He made his way to the back of the room, and readied his quill, ink, and parchment while the attendance was being taken.
Professor Potter finished with the attendance and smiled at the class. “Today, we’re going to continue our lessons about the Triwizard Tournament,” she said. “Can someone remind me when the Triwizard Tournament first took place?” One hand shot up at the front of the class, and Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, Ms. Granger.”
“1294,” answered the Gryffindor mudblood.
“Indeed,” Professor Potter nodded. “Take two points to Gryffindor.”
“Know-it-all squirrel,” Harry sneered in a hushed, which earned him a few chuckles from Nott and Zabini.
The class resumed as expected. Professor Potter lectured about the intricacies of the Goblet of Fire, the magical contract binding the Champions, and so forth. Harry wanted to meditate and think about his plan to retrieve the locket, but he knew Professor Potter was watching his every move like a hawk. He recalled when she started watching him in class.
It was during his second year at Hogwarts when Lady Potter had replaced Binns as Professor of History of Magic. History of Magic had quickly lost its reputation as the class to catch up on sleep and homework, and even pulling a few pranks. While some had always slept during Binns’s lectures, Harry always meditated and left his body on autopilot. He always used a notice-me-not charm for good measure. He thought it’d be the same with Professor Potter, but he was sorely mistaken. Within the first few minutes of diving into his meditation, he found Professor Potter waiting for him in his mindscape. The shock had him screaming in both the mindscape and real space.
Harry wanted to report her intrusion to the Headmaster, but that would mean accepting weakness to another human being. And if there was any lesson that Lord Black taught him, it was that the Blacks never showed weakness. Instead of mouthing off about his weak occlumency shields, Harry worked day and night to better himself. It took him many months of trying and failing to repel legilimency probes from Lord Black’s portrait until he finally managed to protect his mind from any intrusion. Like with any of his other abilities, Harry pushed his occlumency to the limit. He started by building a mental fortress that resembled Number 12 Grimmald Place with the entire Black family as its protectors. It had taken him an entire year until he completed his mental fortress.
As he built the defenses of his mental fortress, he realized this newly found ability came with a powerful drawback; the magical defenses were draining his magic faster than his body could supply. The stronger the defenses became, the more magic he needed. Coupled with his hunger to consume magic after undergoing the half-blood purifying rituals with Lord Black, he’d eventually die of magical exhaustion if he continued building his mindscape’s defenses. This led him to carry a mokesin pouch with powerful artifacts of magic that he would consume magic from. He didn’t want the mokeskin pouch to draw any unwanted attention, so he transfigured it to resemble the insignia of House Black with its motto “Toujours Pur.”
The artifacts in his mokeskin pouch came from various sources: the Black vaults at Gringotts, the Room of Requirements in Hogwarts, and a few purchases at Borgin and Burkes. Whenever he’d be done draining one artifact, he’d resell it to the Goblins or Borgin and Burkes, depending on the artifact’s origin. Although the monetary gains weren’t the original objective, it was very welcomed. Slowly but surely, the Black wealth was growing.
Harry unconsciously reached out for the transfigured mokeskin pouch around his neck and smiled. He felt strong eyes burrowing into his skull and glanced up to see Professor Potter staring at him from the front of the classroom. Although her face was void of expression, her eyes were easy to read. After all, those were the same eyes that looked back at him in a mirror. The emerald orbs currently holding his gaze intently were oozing with sorrow.
“Nott,” called Professor Potter.
Nott shook as if being raised from sleep. He glanced around himself before his eyes settled to the front of the classroom. “Yes, Professor?” He responded.
“Can you tell me why Champions of the Triwizard Tournament cannot forfeit their position after being selected by the Goblet of Fire?”
Nott’s face drained of color while Hermione’s hand shot up. Draco glanced back to find the look of horror on Nott’s face, and smiled. Nott searched the eyes of his Slytherin peers in a desperate attempt to find someone to rescue him. His gaze landed on Harry and Zabini beside him, who had mischievous smirks on their faces. He knew they wouldn’t help him either, and his face fell in defeat. “I don’t know,” he replied.
“Detention and twenty points from Slytherin for sleeping in the classroom.”
Nott sighed. “God fucking damn it.”
“What was that?”
“I said, ‘Yes, professor’.”
Zabini chuckled on Harry’s right while Harry’s mind raced. “Every time,” He thought as he watched Professor Potter resume her lecture about the similarities between the Goblet of Fire’s binding magical contract and an Unbreakable Vow. “She was looking at me, but she realized I caught her, and she targeted Nott. It’s always been like that. She stares at me, I catch her, and she targets someone else, which’s weird because she wasn’t always like that. Even after she caught me in my mindscape.” Harry glanced at his hand holding the transfigured Black family insignia, and realization dawned on him. “That’s why. All of this staring started after she saw me wearing this thing. She’s mad that I’m wearing a symbol of the Black family, instead of that winged-heart locket that Rose wears all the time. That winged … that winged … YOU BITCH.” Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “Luna’s necklace is actually Rose’s. After Luna hugged me at the Wizengamot, I lost my wand’s allegiance. One day later, Hermione beats me in Charms, and Draco drags my name in the mud. OH HELL NO.”
Harry was fuming as the class continued. He didn’t bother paying attention or pretending to listen to the lectures. He was counting every second that passed until the period was over. With a wave of his hand, his belongings packed themselves into his backpack, which flung on his back, and he bolted out of the classroom. He waited outside as students exited in pairs, a group, or alone.
Nott and Zabini left the class and approached him. “Want to grab a tight bite before Arithmancy?” Zabini beckoned him.
Harry shook his head, “Go on without me.”
Nott cocked an eyebrow. “You’re okay there, mate?” He asked. “You skipped breakfast. Last time you did that, Dementors had just attacked you on the Quidditch Pitch.”
“Thanks for reminding me, asshole. And yes, I’m fine. I just need to talk to someone. You know … Black family business.”
Zabini and Nott nodded in understanding, padded him on the shoulder, and left him to his own devices. Harry waited awhile longer until Rose, Hermione, and Susan exited the classroom. They were chatting about meeting up at the library for the Potions’ homework that was due on Friday.
“Heir Potter,” Harry beckoned, gaining the trio’s attention. “We need to talk.”
Susan and Hermione sneered at him before leaving together. She came to a halt a few steps away from him. “I’m here,” she said. Harry remained silent as he waved his dominant hand in a circular motion, creating a silencing and privacy bubble around them. Rose cocked an eyebrow at the display of magic. “I knew it,” commented Rose. “It was a fluke, wasn’t it? You can cast the Banishing charm silently.”
Harry ignored her. He couldn’t feel the magic emanating from the locket, which meant it was still in Luna’s possession. “Why did you do it?” He demanded.
Rose furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”
“Over the years, you’ve talked to me a lot. Even when I told you to fuck off. You talked about your family, about love, and about how our bond is stronger than blood purity. I never bought into it, but that’s beside the point. After everything you’ve said, after I’ve had to put up with all of your Potter’s ‘holier than thou’ bullshit, you do something like this? Seriously?”
“Harry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s Heir Black to you,” Harry growled. “And don’t you dare play dumb with me.”
“Har — Heir Black, I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Harry scoffed, his face fuming. “This is why I fucking hate you Potters. The first time I let my guard down around one of your friends, you do something like this. And you wonder why I don’t trust you, why I’ve always returned every gift you, your parents, and your godfather always send me. You just can’t be trusted.”
Rose’s eyes were watering as her face broke with sorrow. “Harry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled through quivering lips. “I swear, I don’t know.”
Harry’s face hardened with anger. “You and your family always pretend to be these nice and trustworthy people, but deep down, you’re rotten like Death Eaters. Fucking hypocrites, and you know what? She’s going to pay for crossing me. I spent all day trying to find a way to be subtle, but now? FUCK SUBTLETY. She’s going to suffer. Her and everyone that helped her. Especially that mud —” his words died in his mouth as he felt waves of magic crashing against his being. It felt like a gentle breeze against the burning heat of the sun, like a cold pumpkin juice after dueling practice. It promised a soothing embrace and a refreshing taste. The hunger in Harry’s stomach leapt on its feet and began prowling. This time, it wouldn’t let the Lovegood heiress escape.
Harry turned towards the source of magic and found a barefoot Luna Lovegood approaching Professor Potter’s classroom while humming a merry tune. Harry’s eyes focused on the winged-heart locket around her neck, and anger boiled his entrails. Rose glanced behind herself, searching the object of her twin’s ire. She found the cheerful Luna Lovegood, and her heart skipped a beat. “No,” she snarled and turned to face Harry. “Leave her out of whatever this is.”
“I dare you to stop me,” Harry and his hunger growled in unison. He summoned his wand from its holster and aimed it at the blonde heiress. He overcharged his magic to overpower his wand’s resistance and casted, “Accio locket.” Nothing happened. The Lovegood heiress continued humming her tune, and the waves of magic continued to caress Harry’s hunger, promising to lavish him with power beyond his wildest dreams. “What the fuck?” He glanced back at Rose. “How are you doing this? It shouldn’t be —”
“HARRY!” A joyful voice squealed. Before Harry could react, a ball of blonde hair collided with him in a bone crushing hug. The Lovegood heiress released him and met his gaze intently. She frowned her face and said, “What have you done, Harry? The Wrackspurts are taking over your entire body. You need to deal with them.”
Harry clenched his teeth. With the locket’s proximity, his control over his hunger was sleeping out of his grasp. He needed rid himself of his twin before he did something reckless. He opened his mouth, but Rose beat him to the punch. “Go to class Luna,” she said softly, “Professor Potter is waiting.”
Luna shook her head, “No. Harry is my friend, and he needs me.” She smiled at Harry. “Isn’t that right, Harry?”
The hunger in Harry’s stomach purred, prompting Harry to smile. “Yes,” he nodded firmly. “I need your help, Luna. I can’t handle this many Wrackspurts.” Rose’s eyes flew wide open, and Harry’s smile thinned into a smirk. “Will you help me, Luna?”
Luna nodded, “Of course. Anything you need.”
Harry cleared his throat. He needed his voice to sound very convincing, instead of the howl of ecstasy coming the hunger. “Your locket,” he muttered. “It’s magical, isn’t it? Don’t ask me how I know; I just do. I need your locket. I’m sorry if it’s very important to you, but I need it.”
Harry thought he saw the faintest smirk on Luna’s lips, but he ignored it after her face broke with the widest smile. “Anything for you, Harry,” replied Luna. She removed the locket from her neck and handed it over to Harry.
Harry took the necklace and smiled in return. “Thank you,” he said. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
This time, Harry definitely saw a smirk on Luna’s lips. “Oh, I do,” she assured. “Very much so. Anywho, I need to go to class before Professor Potter gives me detention again.” She smiled at Harry, then Rose, and headed to class.
Harry couldn’t stop himself from grinning triumphantly. He finally had the locket, and he didn’t even need some convoluted plan. His smile widened, threatening to split his head in half.
“Oh my god,” whispered Rose’s voice.
Harry glanced at her to find her eyes flowing with tears and her hands shaking, though her gaze was fixated on the winged-heart locket in his hand. He realized what the locket implied, and he placed it inside his transfigured mokeskin pouch. His face hardened, and his grin melted away. “Don’t get any ideas,” he snarled with a scoff.
With another wave of his wand, he cancelled the privacy and silencing charms. He turned on his feet and walked away without a backwards glance. He headed towards the Room of Requirement before his feet came to a halt. He had been acting strange all day, which was already drawing a lot of unwanted attention. He needed to be subtle, in case anything unexpected happen with the locket. With his mind set, Harry turned on his heels and headed for Arithmancy class.
*****
Rose watched the retreating form of her twin. Goosebumps riddled her skin, and her heart was hammering against her ribcage. Her left hand went inside her shirt and grabbed the winged-heart locket nestling between her breasts. “He kept it,” she whispered through her lump in her throat. “He kept … I always thought … But he kept it. He … I need to tell mom.”
She hurried her footsteps to the door of her mother’s classroom and knocked a few times. A few seconds passed, and the door opened, revealing her mother with confused expression. “Rose?” She beckoned. “What can I help —” The words vanished out of her mouth when she saw the tears streaming down her daughter’s face. She exited the class, shut the door behind herself, and erected a privacy bubble around them. “What’s wrong?” She demanded. “Did something happen?”
Rose nodded, her eyes still overflowing with tears. “It’s Harry,” she croaked.
Even through her blurry vision, Rose noticed the colors drain from her mother’s face while she glanced around herself, searching for her estranged son. “What is it?” Lily demanded after her search proved useless. “What happened to him? Is he okay? Did someone hurt him?”
Rose’s face broke in a smile, the brightest smile Lily had ever seen on her daughter’s face. “He kept it,” she whispered. “Mom, he kept it.”
Lily responded with another confused look. “Kept … what?” Rose pulled the heart-winged locket through the plackets of her shirt. Lily’s heart screeched to a halt, sending snow coursing through her veins. She met her daughter’s gaze, and realized those were tears of joy. “He … kept it?” She asked again, though her voice sounded like a whine.
Rose nodded firmly. “He kept it.”
Lily’s heart swelled with joy, and she pulled her daughter into a hug. “There’s still a chance,” she muttered through tears and shivers of happiness. “He can still come back to us.”
Rose nodded in the hug as she tightened her hold around her mother. “I’m not giving up on him,” she retorted in her mother’s ear. “Never.”
*****
The rest of the day went by in a similar fashion for Harry. He sat at the back of the room for each of his remaining classes, casted silencing and notice-me-not charms, and meditated. Instead of using the winged-heart locket to draw magic from, he used one of the many Astrolabes from his mokeskin pouch. At the end of Astronomy, Harry made his way to the Great Hall where he sat with Zabini and Nott. Nott’s detention with Professor Potter was reading Professor Binns' notes on the Goblin’s Rebellion. Safe to say that Nott had the most boring afternoon of his life.
Dinner in the Great Hall was a quiet affair, at the exception of the longing look that Rose and Professor Potter were sending him. Harry figured Rose had talked to her mother about Harry’s outburst for the winged-heart locket, and he had prepared himself accordingly. He kept playing with his mokeskin pouch, which was transfigured into the House Black insignia. It didn’t seem to have the effect Harry expected. He wanted them heartbroken, but their eyes glowed with embers of hope. Harry rolled his eyes and left the Great Hall for his dormitory.
It took a few more hours until curfew set, and his dormitory became an orgy of snoring banshees, curtesy of Crabbe and Goyle. Harry casted silencing and notice-me-not charms around his bed. He sat with his back against the headboard while holding his wand in his dominant hand and the winged-heart locket in the other hand. He counted down from ten as he cleared his mind and fell into his mindscape. When he opened his eyes, he found himself seated in the living room of Number 12 Grimmald Place. Sounds of laughter, conversations, and songs echoed around the room. Druella and Walburga were sitting on the couches at the center of the room, and they were catching up on each other’s lives. Lord Black and Orion were playing chess further to the left side of the room, closer to the trophy cabinet displaying the greatness of House Black over the centuries. Phineas Nigellas Black was closer to the fireplace on the right side of the room, and he was regaling Pollux, Lucretia, and Cygnus with tales about his tenure as Headmaster of Hogwarts and the prodigal student that had started Hogwarts as a fifth year. Lastly, Dorea was at the back of the room, teaching the piano to her husband Charlus, the only Potter allowed in Harry’s mindscape.
Every member of House Black was present, at the noticeable exception of Narcissa and Bellatrix who were the Keepers of Harry’s mindscape. “Dorea,” he beckoned the raven-haired beauty. She halted the piano lesson with Charlus and turned to face him. She smiled and nodded, urging him to continue. “Where are Bellatrix and Narcissa?” Dorea’s smile morphed into a smirk. Apparently, she knew something Harry didn’t. Harry cocked an eyebrow in response. She pointed at the ceiling while her lips were still smirking. Harry only shook his head and made his way upstairs.
With every step he took, the dining room below grew silent. “Bellatrix?” He beckoned as he arrived at the corridor leading to the various bedrooms. “Narcissa?” The only response was the faint noises coming from the living room. Harry summoned his wand from its holster and casted, “Homenum revelio.” A wave of magic emanated from the tip of the wand and swam across the corridor until it consolidated into a pillar of light illuminating the door at the end of the corridor. “What are they doing there?” Harry beckoned. “I haven’t put anything inside there yet.”
He canceled the locator spell and approached the door, his footsteps clacking against the wooden floor. When he reached the door, he noticed the faint outlines of a translucent bubble resulting from a silencing and notice-me-not charms. He tapped the bubble with the tip of his wand, bursting it open.
“On my face,” echoed Bellatrix’s voice from the other side of the door.
“Why?” Narcissa’s voice hissed. “He already came inside you. It’s my turn now.”
Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He casted a silencing charm on the door, then slowly opened it. The sight that met him sent a wave of shivers running down his spine. Bellatrix and Narcissa were kneeling before a naked and sweaty version of himself. Lily Potter stood on one side of the other Harry while Rose Potter stood on the other. Lily was kissing the other Harry while Rose was stroking his erect cock.
The other Harry broke the kiss with Lily and smiled at her. “What do you think?” He asked.
“I think you should cum on Cissy’s face,” replied Lily, “and Bellatrix should lick her clean.”
The other Harry smiled and captured Lily’s lips in another kiss. Rose sped up her thrusts on the other Harry’s cock until he groaned against Lily’s lips and shot ropes of cum on Narcissa’s face, who squealed in delight. Rose continued her strokes, milking every drop onto Narcissa. Then, Bellatrix pounced on her sister, tackling her to the floor, and began licking her face clean.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” Harry roared, his voice booming in the room. Everyone glanced towards him, but Bellatrix was too busy eating cum off of her sister’s face.
The other Harry smiled after meeting Harry’s gaze. “Hey there,” he said. “You finally made it.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Harry demanded. “How did you get here? And why the fuck are there mudbloods here?”
“Ooh,” the other Harry gasped. “The heir of an ancient and noble house shouldn’t use that kind of crass language.” He snapped his fingers, and clothes covered his body. He wore a black shirt, black jeans, rugged muggle boots, and a coat. Lily and Rose whined in protest, prompting the other Harry to chuckled. He gave each of them a peck on the lips before he snapped his fingers, robbing everyone.
“Hey,” Bellatrix barked. She straightened herself to her feet and glared at the other Harry. “How dare you?” Narcissa nudged her sisters’ side and nodded towards Harry. Bellatrix whirled around and glared. “What do you want?” She growled. “You’re not welcomed here.”
“I beg your pardon?” Harry retorted. “This is my mindscape, and you know what? The two of you are no longer its Keepers.”
The four girls glanced at each other before bursting out laughing. Narcissa even wiped a few tears from her face. “Come on, girls, be nice,” said the other Harry. He glanced back to Harry. “I didn’t introduce myself, did I? You can call me … Horcrux.”
“I would say I’m charmed to meet you, but I’m not one to lie,” Harry said. “Especially since you entered my mindscape without my consent.”
Horcrux smirked. “True,” he nodded. “Except, this is not your mindscape anymore. Well, it was … until I took over.”
Harry smiled, chuckled even. “You don’t lack for confidence,” he commented. “But confidence can only take you so far.”
Horcrux’s smirk deepened. He snapped his fingers, and the group was transported to the living room of Grimmald Place. The room was silent, as opposed to its lively atmosphere from a few moments prior. Harry assessed his surroundings and felt another wave of shivers running down his spine. The Black family, protectors of the mindscape, were frozen in place. The conversations, the laughters, the piano songs — everything frozen like a muggle snow globe. Goosebumps grew on Harry’s skin as his heartbeat hammered against his ribcage, trying to break free and flee from the monster before it. Harry shook his head, trying to compose himself. “How did you apperate us here?” He demanded. “The wards around my mindscape shouldn’t let you do that. Who the fuck are you? What do you want?”
“You haven’t caught on yet, have you?” Horcrux beckoned. “ I already have everything I want. I’m only here to keep you company until the end.”
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “Until the end?” He demanded. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Ugh, this is boring,” snarled Bellatrix. “Can we kill him already? I want to go back upstairs and finish what we started.”
Narcissa rolled her eyes while Lily and Rose chuckled. Horcrux smiled at Bellatrix before turning his attention back to Harry. “You had everything,” he said. “The love of your parents, the love of your twin, but you squandered it. And for what, I wonder.”
“He knows about me and the Potters,” Harry thought. “But how did he —” The flash of realization illuminated Harry’s mind. He recalled Luna’s words at the Ministry of Magic, he recalled the winged-heart locket, and he recalled open his mind to the locket. “The power inside the locket,” whispered Harry. “It was you, wasn’t it? The version of me from another world.”
Horcrux nodded, “Yes. And you thought you could use me and my power. You thought I’d be another one of the many artifacts that you’ve drained and sold. But you see, Harry James Potter, I am a lot more than a locket. And the moment you opened your mind to me, you lost. Your body, your soul … all of you.”
“First of all, don’t call me James or Potter,” he snarled. “I have already petitioned to have that farce of a name removed. I am Harry Arcturus Black. And second, if you’ve come to take over my body, you will be sorely disappointed.”
Horcrux rolled his eyes. “Look around you. No protectors here, no keepers, your mind has already fallen … like all the others. Why do you think I told you I was here to keep you company until the end?”
“Then, I suppose I should remove you from my mindscape before the end comes,” Harry growled and aimed his wand at the imposter. “Avada Kedavra.”
The emerald jet of light sprung from his wand and raced towards Horcrux, connecting with his chest. Horcrux remained standing, his gaze oozing with boredom. “Every time,” he said with a scoff. “Thousands of you, and not a single one of you realized it.”
“What the — How did you — No fucking way.” Harry’s hands were shaking with blood coursing through his veins. Fear was squeezing his heart like a stress ball. The killing curse couldn’t be blocked, nor could it be swatted away. “How?” He demanded, his voice shaking with fear. “How?”
“Because you have no power here,” retorted Horcrux’s behind him. A flash of red light illuminated his peripheral vision, and by the time he turned around, he saw no more.
The soul of Harry James Potter crumbled on the floor, stunned like countless others before him. “Greed was your downfall,” said Horcrux, “and hatred sealed your fate.” He waved his hand and vanished the illusion standing with his girls. He glanced at Bellatrix and noticed the hungry gaze she was sending him. He winked at her before placing his dominant hand over the Deathly Hallows scar on his chest. “Episkey,” he whispered. The fallen soul of Harry James Potter, wannabe Harry Arcturus Black, rose to its feet and floated towards Horcrux. As the souls grew closer, they disintegrated into flickers of light, merged, and reformed into another Harry James Potter with the memories of the fallen and the Horcrux.
Harry gasped and flung his eyes opened. He found himself leaning against the headboard with the wand in one hand and the winged-heart locket in the other. He removed the mokeskin pouch around his neck and wore the winged-locket. He cancelled the silencing and notice-me-not charms around his bed. He straightened himself to his feet and found the other occupants were still fast asleep. He went to the washroom and conjured a full body mirror. He stared at the reflection looking back at him and tugged on his shirt. The scar of the Deathly Hallows gleamed under the washroom’s lights, and Harry smiled. “I’m here,” he said. “Let’s begin.”