The Bird Sings Your Secrets
Three drops of blood on the rune in the middle of the wooden bird's chest make the ᛒ — shaped to the like of the Elder Futhark Berkana —, which is associated with the circle of life and death, glow for a second.
A chant starts, and the heavy weight of Death settles in the room. The magic of the realm beyond the veil was so thick around the two men in the Ritual Room that, for a moment, it felt as if they no longer were in the world of the living.
When the words stop, the magic of Death leaves the room, as if it was never there. The two men can breathe normally again. The ᛒ rune glows again, in a pale blue light, before it fades once more.
With three taps with his wand on the rune, Hedwyn closes his eyes and imagines the shape he wishes the bird to take. Regulus gaps, the wooden bird changes like a metaphor before his eyes, transforming from wood to a normal-looking, though small, bird.
A crested tit, Harry thinks after opening his eyes. He grins in contempt for his ritual and runecraft. The bird now shares his Metamorphmagus blood and becomes alive-like through his Soul Magic.
He wastes no time, taking the small bird in his hands and bringing it to the closest room with a window.
Once the window is open, he tells the bird what it must do and releases it. Hedwyn and Regulus look at the bird as it goes to accomplish its task. Both men have a devious smirk on their faces.
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At Hogwarts, in the Headmaster's Office, the Order of the Phoenix is gathered. Dumbledore is sitting in his chair while his followers are standing around the table in front of the old man.
Dumbledore has a clear frown on his face, the war and the Wizengamot both bring the old headmaster a lot of problems.
“We have a lot more issues on our hands now, my friends,” Dumbledore tells the people in the room. “Not only Voldemort's raids have become more frequent, but now we also have the issue of the new Lord Peverell and his... partnership with Regulus Black. I fear which will strike first now. Lord Voldemort uses brute force, yes, but Hedwyn Peverell is now so incredibly influential on both the Wizengamot and in public opinion that I fear for the worst.”
“Oh, Albus,” Molly Weasley says, putting a hand on her chest. “Not only do we have You-Know-Who to fight against as also this Lord Peverell? Do you believe he's dark? He must be! Sitting by a Malfoy's side of all places. It's truly a disgrace to our country.”
Dumbledore nods to her in feigned nervousness. “I'm certain he is, Molly. You just have to look at his recent proposals to see it. Most Blood Magic is now legal again, and his defence of dark creatures is one more proof of his allegiance to the dark. With the Peverell fortune, Hedwyn is able to bend everything to his will.”
Andromeda Tonks frowns at that answer. “Are you sure of that, Albus? The man looks honourable to me. There are even talks of him and cousin Regulus building a village for less fortunate people. Maybe he's not all bad.”
“Don't let his nice façade deceive you, my dear girl,” Andromeda's left eyebrow twitches at the informal way in which Dumbledore addressed her. “Hedwyn Peverell is no good man, and neither is Regulus Black. Let's not forget how much young Regulus praised Voldemort while at Hogwarts. How could Lord Peverell not be evil? No, he is a dark wizard to his very essence.”
Andromeda pursed her lips but said nothing. It was true, her cousin was a known supporter of You-Know-Who and he has been like that for years, much like the rest of her family. The only sensible ones were Alphard and Sirius. Not even her most rational sister, Narcissa, was swayed away from this madness, but decided to marry a follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
“But what of Peverell, Albus? I think his support for Lord Moody's proposal was very sound,” said Fabian Prewett. “Why would he want to go against You-Know-Who if he's dark?”
Dumbledore fixed his glasses while thinking. “Do you know anything about the Peverell family, my boy?” The headmaster said in an ominous tone. Fabian Grimaced at being fall ‘my boy’, but remained quiet. “The Peverells were known for being necromancer abilities. For generations, the family have had this stigma.”
“And you believe Lord Peverell uses necromancy? It's very illegal magic after all.” Fabian asked.
“I believe he has the knowledge of Necromancy, yes. It would be hard to believe he doesn't, with the family's history and all.”
“But why go against You-Know-Who? Would they not want to work together?” asked Minerva McGonagall.
“I see it as a challenge, Minerva. Lord Peverell, as I see it, is presenting himself as an alternative to Lord Voldemort. Perhaps a more clean and presentable version of Tom, but evil nonetheless.”
Minerva's eyebrows shot up. “You believe the man to be the next Dark Lord?”
“I fear as much, my friend. His alignment with the Dark Faction, the way he votes and the laws he proposes, there is no doubt in my mind that Hedwyn Peverell is heading that way. A new Dark Lord is forming, mark my words. The third in this century”
Most members of the Order become uneasy by those words — the memories of Grindelwald's war still fresh in the minds of many of them —, save Andromeda Tonks and the Prewett brothers, who have some connection to Hedwyn Peverell, either from Regulus or Sirius Black.
“Is there any news of the Potters?” McGonagall looks at Gideon Prewett as she asks, changing the topic of the conversation. The Potters and Sirius Black's disappearance was a point of contingency within the Order. With some believing they were being forced into hiding and others believing it was Lord Potter's doing.
“Sirius hasn't said much,” Gideon answers. “He just keeps saying they are in a safe place and to not worry about them.”
Albus Dumbledore frowns at that answer. The Potters leaving his side was a significant blow to his plans against Voldemort. A family with that much influence and wealth was not easy to come by.
“That's very concerning. I don't see why they would leave the war effort so suddenly. I'm certain something — or someone — is the cause of their departure,” Dumbledore shakes his head as he speaks. “Unfortunately, there is not much we can do but hope they will contact us. Their idea of using portkeys to escape if in danger was a remarkable one. I only hope they'll come back to us soon.”
“Is there a plan to deal with Peverell? My father tells me even some people from the Light Section are taking a liking to the man.” Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody narrowed his eyes as he asked. His father's concern over Lord Peverell's growing power in the Wizengamot never left his paranoid mind.
“I have something planned, do not worry. I see it as important that the public is made aware of Lord Peverell's dark tendencies. Without the people to support him, it will be easier to diminish his stance in the Wizengamot. I'm working with a few friends to make this knowledge widespread. Hedwyn Peverell will not become more powerful, that I can assure you.”
The Order of the Phoenix was too preoccupied with their plans and strategies that they failed to see the small bird by the open window. Not even Alastor Moody, with his ‘Constant vigilance!’ was able to see the deceitful little bird for what it really was.
In another part of the United Kingdom, Hedwyn Peverell and Regulus Black celebrated their enemy's stupidity, a begin to write a letter to one of Regulus Black's most esteemed writers. Albus Dumbledore's life would only get worse.
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DUMBLEDORE:
THE NEXT DARK LORD?
A week later after the Order decided they would try to sway public opinion against Lord Peverell, Hedwyn was found smiling while reading the article that painted Dumbledore as a possible Dark Lord, for his past with Grindelwald, reminiscing from a previous article, and his extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts. As well as a description of the types of books and trinkets he keeps in his office — some of them even banned in Britain.
The article also addressed the constant visits Albus Dumbledore made to Gellert Grindelwald. Sightings of a man close to Nurmengard were made just last week, which didn't help Dumbledore at all. Of course, Dumbledore didn't go to Nurmengard the week prior, but nobody needed to know that a Metamorphmagus was there as him.
If the Order thought they could bring Hedwyn Peverell down, they now would have a very difficult time. Opinions about Albus Dumbledore were less favourable now than they were in the past, so trying to attack a prominent lord who spent so much money on charity work was going to be very difficult.
“Perhaps now the old goat will learn to stay in his place,” Regulus says while reading his copy of the Prophet. “It's unfortunate we couldn't see his face when he read this. How entertaining it would be.”
Harry snickers and shakes his head. “I can always change to look like him if you wish.”
The face of disgust Regulus makes tells his opinion on that idea. “I'd not look at his old face while having breakfast, thank you.”
After finishing breakfast, both men move to the drawing room. Hedwyn picks up the book about Blood Magic he was reading, while Regulus tries to read his book about Ancient Runes.
However, Regulus' eyes go to a letter sitting on the table next to his chair. It had been delivered by a very familiar owl just this morning, and he was still trying to speak about it with Harry — but every time he started to speak, the words didn't come out.
As he sits there, his foot taps impatiently on the floor, a clear sign of his restlessness. An invitation has been sent to Hedwyn and him, and he can't help but obsess over how his boyfriend will respond. Will he be excited? Will he accept it? The anticipation is almost palpable, and he finds himself fidgeting with his hands as well. Every second feels like an eternity. He can see the sunlight streaming in through the window, illuminating the dust particles floating in the air, but he can't focus on anything else. All he can think about is Hedwyn's reaction.
“Reggie?” Harry's voice brings Regulus' attention to his boyfriend. “Is everything okay?” He puts his book down and focuses solely on Regulus.
Regulus can't seem to sit still. He squirms in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. Suddenly determined, he sits up straight and locks eyes with Harry. Might as well deal with this, he thinks.
“I've received a letter, from my grandfather. He heard about our relationship, apparently. He and my grandmother are not very happy they didn't hear about from me.”
“Oh,” Harry raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah. You know how old families are. We are expected to ‘show’ our intended to the Lord and Lady of the family. I should've told him already, but everything that's happened made me forget. Merlin, we still have my parents to deal with. They can't stay under Imperius foverer.”
“Unfortunately,” Hedwyn mutters. “We’ll deal with your parents after visiting Lord Black.”
“Yes, of course. It's reasona- Wait are you saying that you wish to visit my grandparents?” Regulus leans closer, his eyes showing how important this is for him. For an heir raised in such old traditions as Regulus, his lord's approval of his relationship with Harry is very important. “You will meet them, Harry?”
Harry raises an eyebrow, confused. “Of course, Regulus. Why wouldn't I? I know how important this is.”
Regulus can't help but grin from ear to ear as he hears his boyfriend's response. All the tension that had been building up in his shoulders vanishes in an instant, and he sinks back into his chair, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through his veins.
"That's- That's great, Harry. Thank you,” Regulus says softly. Harry smiles at him and shakes his head fondly.
“You didn't think I would decline the invitation, right?” Regulus looks at the floor, unable to answer Harry's question. “Reggie, darling. I would never do that to you. I know how your family is important to you, even the crazy ones.”
Regulus chuckles. “Come on, don't be so had on Sirius.”
Harry chuckles at the playful remark, enjoying the light-hearted teasing from his godfather.
“When does your grandfather wish for us to meet him?”
Sighing he answers “In two days. Fortunately, we will have a day off, so we can visit Château Noir with no problem.”
“I'll get my best robes. Merlin forbid I look like a peasant in front of the mightiest Lord Black.”
Regulus chuckles softly and adds “Or worse, look like a pompous Malfoy.”
That makes Harry throw his head back and laugh, making Regulus join him. The boyfriends sit there for a while, talking about how to apologise to Lord and Lady Black for the late revelation of their courting, and if they made more jokes at the Malfoy family's expense, no one was there to judge them for it.
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While a bird was chirping at his office's window, Dumbledore was red with embarrassment, while trying to explain to an angry McGonagall why the things in the Prophet were lies.
“I have not visited Grindelwald, Minerva. You must believe me! It's all lies.”
Minerva McGonagall grunts in response. “I am very concerned about you lately, Albus. Since the day you went mad around the castle, talking... profanities about house-elves that I-”
“More lies!” Dumbledore exclaims, interrupting McGonagall, which makes her even more angry at him.
“You told me is impossible for someone to have Pollyjuiced as you, Albus! That no one would be able to get hair from you,” McGonagall is almost frothing at the mouth with anger and annoyance. “So please enlighten me!”
Dumbledore mumbles, incapable of coming up with an answer — making Minerva straighten her back in triumph. The headmaster becomes even more red and embarrassed.
Then, out of nowhere, Dumbledore turns around and goes to his chambers, too frustrated with McGonagall to continue the conversation.
Minerva nods at herself and leaves the Headmaster's Office, going towards the Hospital Wing. Poppy will know how to take care of this madness, she thinks while stomping her feet on the stone floor.
The sound of the bird chirping in Dumbledore's office grows louder, almost as if the small bird was mocking the headmaster with its singing.