Twisted Fascination

It was late at night when I was once again trying to cast my magic out to see if Harry was dreaming. He hadn't had the Dark Lord dream in over a week, and I was beginning to worry that I had missed my opportunity. To my amazing luck, however, I managed to cast my magic out at just the right time.

Harry was dreaming, and he was in the place of Frank.

I silently took in everything I could, and I made sure to remember the way the halls looked and the like. I heard the high-pitched voice of the Dark Lord's wraith form, saw how Nagini moved well despite her long body, and even recognized the keen intelligence in Rudolphus's eyes.

As the Dark Lord's chair was spun around, Frank died, and Harry jolted awake with a gasp.

I quickly left his mind after that, and I began to contemplate everything I had witnessed.

The wraith had another servant out there, one that was surely going to show up after the Quidditch World Cup. He was trying to get Harry's or a substitute's (AKA my) blood. He needed it for some unknown reason, though it was probably to get some form of revenge.

I barely bit back a sigh as I rubbed my temples. I felt a migraine coming on, knowing that the school year was going to be chaotic once again if the Dark Lord had any say about it.

The Dark Lord, at least the one in my head, chuckled. §Now, now. Don't forget that I can guide you.§

I opened my eyes, and I was in that small room in my mind. I sat up straight and asked, §Sir, I know you can see in my mind, but can you see in your other self's mind?§

The man frowned as he admitted, §No, I can't.§

§Do you have any hypothesis as to why such is the case?§ I inquired.

The man sat back as he crossed one leg over the other. §I do.§

I waited for all of a second before realizing he wasn't going to tell me. I briefly contemplated offering an exchange before quickly deciding I had nothing of worth to offer for such valuable information. I decided to shift the conversation to something more useful. §Do you know who Nagini is?§

§I do not,§ the Dark Lord answered, §Though, I have the feeling she isn't any normal snake.§

§Perhaps she's a magical breed,§ I suggested.

He shook his head. §That level of intelligence she showed meant she's either a familiar of my other self or something else.§

§Something else?§ I inquired curiously.

He nodded once. §In Transfigurations, I had once heard of a tale of women that are forced to transform into beasts. It's a blood curse that is passed along from mother to daughter, one that is, as far as wizardkind can tell, incurable. Over the woman's lifespan, she can transform at will into the beast's form. The more time she does it, however, the more uncontrollable they will become as a beast. With that uncontrollable transformation comes the looming threat of being unable to ever transform back. They take that risk with every transformation, however, and always seem to succumb to being permanently changed into a beast. The more they transform into beasts, the more they lose their humanity. As beasts, they'll be unable to recall their time as humans, and they'll be far more aggressive than they were as humans.§

§Does this curse have a name?§ I asked.

§These women are known as Maledictuses,§ he answered.

I hummed in interest before asking, §Is there any way to tell if Nagini is one or not?§

§Oh, I know she is a Maledictus,§ he waved off at once.

§How?§ I asked eagerly.

§I would never take a familiar beyond the Basilisk. No other snake is worthy enough,§ he answered as if it should have been obvious.

I blinked once before questioning, §Even if I killed your familiar?§

§Even if you killed her,§ he confirmed, §You're supposed to surpass me, and my familiars are an extension of myself. If you can kill my familiar, you can surely surpass me.§

I felt odd for a moment, not quite liking how he seemed so adamant about me surpassing him. I quickly masked any discomfort I felt and asked, §Are Maledictuses like normal animals, or are they more akin to magical beasts?§

§I would say that they're more akin to magical beasts,§ he answered right away, §If Nagini is a Maledictus that is well-versed in Parseltongue, she could prove to be quite the opponent for you.§

I pondered it for a moment before asking, §Can you cast magic in Parseltongue?§

§Parseltongue is a language, one used by snakes, yes, but a language nonetheless,§ he said.

I felt a bit foolish as I realized that magic could be cast with Parseltongue.

§I wouldn't bother trying to learn,§ he said, causing me to pause. §If you can pick up Occlumency and Legilimency as easily as you can, I would focus on performing non-verbal and wandless magic. That is much more useful in a duel.§

I nodded once, feeling that was a logical step forward.

§As a matter of fact, once you finish reading your book on rituals, why don't you attempt casting Levitation Charm wandless?§ The Dark Lord suggested.

§Just wandless?§ I questioned.

§I doubt you could do it wordless, too,§ he said dismissively.

I nodded once, though I took some offense to his doubts in me.

§Sleep, now,§ he said as he sat back in his chair, §You'll need to get up soon enough.§

I laid back down on my loveseat and closed my eyes. I calmed myself down, and I soon opened my eyes again. I stared up at the ceiling of Charlie's room in the Burrow for five or so minutes before trying to fall asleep.

That's precisely when the door to the room I was sleeping in opened.

I shot up in the bed with wide eyes.

There, a man loomed in the doorway, looking as startled as I was. He was tall, thin, and had red hair that was tied in a low ponytail. From his left ear hung an earring with a fang attached to the end. He looked like he had just come back from a muggle rock concert, and he reeked of alcohol. The man squinted at me through the darkness before perking up. "Charlie, I need some advice."

Before I could explain that I wasn't Charlie, the drunken man staggered into the room. I quickly scrambled off the bed, grabbing my wand as I did so. I then pointed it at him, not eager to find out what his intentions were.

The man either didn't notice that I was holding my wand or didn't care because he continued to approach without caution.

"Sir-"

"Ugh, Charlie, your voice is too loud. Tone it down," the man grumbled as he came to a stop and rubbed his forehead.

I hesitated before deciding to do as ordered. "I think you're mistaken. I'm not Charlie."

The man looked at me with confusion all over his face. He squinted at me before stepping to the side, allowing the very limited moonlight to hit me. He stared for a long moment before asking, "Who are you?"

"I would like to know the same thing," I said honestly.

The man hummed softly before suddenly dropping a wand down his sleeve and pointing it at me.

I quickly deflected whatever spell he cast at me, only for the spell to hit the window, causing said window to shatter out into the yard.

From said yard, I heard a masculine voice yell, "What the fuck, Bill?! That's my window!"

The man, who obviously went by the name Bill, winced from the screaming.

I used his distraction to snap my wand toward him.

Bill deserved credit because even while drunk, he was still smart enough to put up a shield around himself to deflect the stunning spell.

The stunning spell in question hit a few little dragon statues on the nightstand, causing them to explode.

Before either of us could continue our little duel, the door across the hall opened.

"Can't a man get some decent sleep around here?!" Percy yelled angrily, causing Bill to cover his hands with his ears.

"Merlin's balls, Percy, shhh," Bill requested as he motioned for the Ministry Worker to tone it down.

"Bill?" The man asked incredulously. "I thought you weren't supposed to come for another week."

"Surprise!" Bill said with a goofy grin.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs before another man rushed into the hallway. He looked into the room Bill and I were in before screeching, "My collectables!"

Bill cringed so hard I honestly felt bad for him.

The man shoved Bill to the side before looking down at the shattered remains of the little dragon statues that once adorned the nightstand. This man was built like the twins. He was shorter and stockier than Ron and Percy, and he had a broad, good-natured face that was twisted up in what appeared to be pure horror. His weather-beaten and freckled face almost appeared tan, but what was most noticeable about him were his muscular arms, one of which sported a lrge, shiny burn scar on it. He collapsed to his knees and began to cry as he tried to find all the pieces of the little statues.

"Charlie," Bill called out as he held his hands over his ears. "Charlie, be quiet and just magic them together again."

Charlie paused as he stared down at the pieces he gathered. Finally, the man, who also smelled strongly of alcohol, pulled out a wand from his back pocket and pointed it at the statues. "Reeparoh." He stared down expectantly before trying the spell again. It didn't work because he didn't do it right, the drunken fool.

I rolled my eyes before flicking my wand at his statues. "Reparo."

In an instant, the six dragon statues mended into their original forms.

Charlie gasped loudly before looking over at me with admiration clear in his eyes. "Will you marry me?"

I immediately sputtered loudly. "E-excuse me?"

"Yeah! This guy is an intruder!" Bill exclaimed as he motioned wildly to me.

Percy groaned as he ran his hands down his face. "Why must I deal with this when I have work in the morning?"

I felt genuinely bad for Percy, so I decided to take control of the situation. "Look, um, Bill and Charlie, you two are obviously drunk, so you should lay down."

"I'm not drunk," Bill denied right away.

"Neither am I," Charlie said.

"Do you want me to yell?" I asked rhetorically.

They both shut their mouths, looking at me cautiously.

"Good boys," I praised, "Now, you two need to lay down and go to sleep."

"I don't take orders from intruders," Bill said defiantly.

"Bill, that's Colton," Percy said as he looked at Bill with nothing but tiredness on his face.

"Didn't Ron say that Colton was the next Dark Lord?" Charlie asked in confusion.

"Yeah, but Ginny said he was a good person, and she's a much better people-reader," Bill said, causing Charlie to nod once, before looking at me again. "I guess I can listen to you…"

"That's good," I said as I finally lowered my wand. "Now lay down before I get Mrs. Weasley to make you."

Both Bill and Charlie scrambled for the bed I had just been laying in.

Before I could object, they both managed to squeeze into the bed and were fighting over the covers.

I closed my eyes for a long moment before eventually deciding that enough was enough for one night. I turned heel and left, closing the door to the room behind me.

Percy stared awkwardly as I rested my head against the closed door. "Er - do you want me to get Mum-"

"No," I said as I stood up straight. "Get some more sleep. I'll just lay down on the couch."

"Are you sure?" Percy asked.

"I'm sure," I assured the man, "You have work in the morning, after all."

He immediately checked his watch before giving in. "Very well."

I smiled politely before heading down to the first floor. I immediately made sure to close the door to the outside before laying down on the couch. I tried to fall asleep, but I simply couldn't. I eventually gave up and began to tidy up the first floor of the house.

As I was doing that, the fireplace was lit with green flames, and Mr. Weasley stepped out from the fireplace while rubbing his neck. "Merlin, that was a pain-" He stopped upon seeing me with a broom in my hands. The man was obviously confused as he asked, "What are you doing, Colton?"

"I couldn't sleep," I answered.

"Is Charlie's bed not comfortable?" The man questioned.

"Oh, no, it's not that. Bill and Charlie are in the bed," I informed the Weasley.

He took a quick moment to compute my words before asking, "They're here a week early?"

"They're also drunk," I said flatly.

The man grew red in the face, looking quite embarrassed of his eldest children.  "O-oh-"

"It's fine. At least they're not the angry type of drunk," I waved off dismissively.

"Still…" He rubbed his temples before sighing. He dropped his hands to his sides and asked, "I know it's early, but do you want a cup of coffee?"

"I'd love one," I said honestly.

He nodded before motioning for me to hand the broom over.

I did so before heading to the kitchen to await my coffee.

"I hate to ask this," Mr. Weasley said slowly as he waved his wand to make the broom go to its normal spot, "But did they do anything?"

"Beyond destroying Charlie's window, no," I answered.

"Of course they did." The man sighed heavily as he entered the kitchen and began to brew a pot of coffee. "I'm sorry they disturbed your night."

"You should have seen how angry Percy was," I said, "He looked ready to duel."

Mr. Weasley winced. "Percy has been rather distant since he began working under Crouch, Sr."

"As in the former DMLE Crouch, Sr.?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes," the man agreed with a minute cringe. "That's the one."

I hummed before asking, "What department does he work in?"

"He's in the Department of International Magical Cooperation," Mr. Wealsey answered.

I immediately made a mental note to gain more information on that before setting it aside. "In any case, I wouldn't yell at them too early. They're hangover is going to be nasty since they didn't drink any water or take any potions for pain."

Mr. Wealsey paused from where he was stirring my coffee. He then set the spoon down in the sink before turning to look at me with concern in his eyes. "How do you know that?"

"My aunt loves her wine, and my uncle loves his brandy," I answered, "It isn't too hard to pick up on bad habits after years of watching."

Mr. Weasley looked vaguely uncomfortable at my nonchalance.

I quickly waved it off as unimportant before asking, "Should I sleep on the couch-"

"Oh, goodness, no," Mr. Weasley interrupted right away. "They're going to share Bill's old room."

"But they're grown men," I pointed out.

"And you're a guest," the man stated, "Guests are always the first priority."

I didn't get the chance to reply, as he suddenly put my coffee before me.

"Drink this before Molly comes down," he ordered, "She'll be waking up any minute now."

I quickly picked up my coffee and blew on it before taking a sip.

Mr. Wealsey picked up his own coffee and began to sip on it slowly.

"What are Bill and Charlie normally like?" I asked.

Mr. Weasley sighed into his coffee. "Well, Bill was always in the top of his class and quite charismatic. He got into some trouble in his school years for poking his nose around things that didn't involve him. He was fascinated with Ancient Runes during his time at Hogwarts, and that eventually transferred into Curse Breaking, which he now does for Gringotts."

I nodded along, knowing from Ginny that he was an excellent Curse Beaker, especially if he worked in Egypt of all things. The Ancient Egyptian wizards were known for their Dark Curses, after all.

"As for Charlie, his passion was always dragons," Mr. Wealsey said with a sort of exasperated fondness. "He insisted on collecting little dragon figurines and learning all he could about dragons as soon as he could read. In school, he was the Quidditch star of Gryffindor. He really did well at being the captain, and he brought the team more victories than he did defeats. Of course, he also did well in Care of Magical Creatures, and he even got a N.E.W.T. in that class. As soon as he graduated, he managed to get an intern in Romania of all places to tame dragons."

"I imagine that both of their occupations have given you a scare on more than one occasion," I said.

"More than you could possibly imagine," Mr. Weasley said as he gazed down at his cup for a moment. He then looked back up to me and smiled warmly. "Well, no matter what, I'm still proud of them for choosing the paths that they have. They've grown into fine young men."

I nodded once before sipping more of my coffee.

A door from upstairs opened, and footsteps came down the stairs.

I sipped my coffee leisurely, knowing that I had some time before Mrs. Weasley made it to the bottom of the stairs. I then looked at Mr. Weasley and asked, "What do you think Ginny will be when she gets older?"

The man pondered for a moment before saying, "I can't say, for certain. The most interest she's ever had in something has been Quidditch."

"Do you think she likes it more than Ron?" I inquired.

The man snorted as Mrs. Weasley entered the kitchen. "Ron may be an avid fan of Quidditch, but Ginny's a fanatic about playing it."

"I wonder why she hasn't tried out for the team," I mused to myself, "Wood would have loved having her last year - always obsessed with Quidditch like Flint, that one."

Mrs. Weasley gave a small peck to her husband's forehead before continuing on to make herself some tea. She then paused by the kitchen window before asking, "Are those trunks in our backyard?"

"They left them out there?" I asked incredulously, causing Mrs. Weasley to look back at me with confusion all over her face.

Mr. Weasley ran his hands down his face before putting on a well-practiced smile. He turned back to look at his wife and requested gently, "Bill and Charlie came last night, but could you not-"

"They came last night, and no one woke me up?!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, looking aghast.

"Molly, dear-"

"They showed up a week early and can't even greet their mother?!" She asked furiously.

"Dear, please-"

"Where are they?" The woman interrupted, looking at her husband sternly.

Mr. Weasley hesitated, clearly torn between suffering the wrath of his wife and just rolling over like a good dog.

"They're sleeping off the journey," I replied before sipping my coffee. "They muttered something about surprising the family when everyone woke up, so I didn't feel the need to wake you."

"They did?" The woman asked before deciding to calm down. "Oh, fine. I guess I'll have to pretend to not see the trunks. You would think they'd hide them if they wanted to surprise us."

I shrugged before finishing off my coffee.

Mr. Weasley looked eternally grateful as he stood up. "In any case, how was your night?"

Mrs. Weasley gave the man a kind smile. "Quiet as always, dear."

I barely bit back a snort.

"How was yours, honey?" Mrs. Weasley continued.

Mr. Weasley smiled back lovingly as he went over to the counter to stand by his wife. "Oh, just another biting teapot. It was nothing I couldn't handle."

"You're my big, brave wizard," Mrs. Weasley said as she gently pecked her husband's cheek.

"You're my cute, little witch," Mr. Weasley replied as he gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Mrs. Weasley giggled like a schoolgirl, her cheeks flushed a pink hue.

"Morning," Percy greeted tiredly as he practically dragged himself into the kitchen.

"Morning," I replied as I watched the man with bags under his eyes approach the counter.

He either didn't notice or didn't care that his parents both gave him worried looks, instead focusing on his task. He poured himself a cup of coffee before unceremoniously dropping himself into his usual seat at the table.

"Do you have to go to work early?" I inquired.

"Yes," he agreed, "Mr. Crouch has been working on a new project recently, so I've been doing some backlogged cases for him."

"Do you enjoy your job?" I prodded.

"Oh, very much so," Percy answered, honesty clear in his tone, "I like knowing that my skills are being put to good use."

I nodded once, though I could plainly see that the man was running himself ragged. I briefly considered asking him if he was the only one in his department that actually worked, but decided to hold my tongue. I didn't want to start discourse with the man that obviously liked his current position.

His wand began to sound off an alarm, causing Percy to look a bit startled. "Already?" He asked as he glanced toward the clock on the wall. He sighed before downing his coffee in one go. He then grabbed his suitcase and wand before taking off toward the fireplace. "I'll be back late tonight!" Without waiting for any reply, he stepped into the Floo and flashed out of sight.

I sipped at my coffee before commenting, "He's rather dedicated."

"He's going to starve himself to death," Mrs. Weasley huffed as she began to fuss around the kitchen. "He didn't eat breakfast, forgot to pack a lunch, and he barely ate dinner last night! I swear that boy gets on my nerves sometimes."

Mr. Weasley winced. "Molly, he's just trying to be a good worker-"

"His health should come before work," Mrs. Weasley tutted. "He'll collapse one day, and then what?"

I finished my coffee before saying, "Sometimes, the best lessons are learned through personal experience. He'll learn one day after being sent home early or waking up at St. Mungo's."

Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to like that response. "He shouldn't let it get that bad-"

"I know," I said as I sat back, "However, he seems a bit too dedicated to his job. He will likely remain dedicated until reality finally comes knocking."

Mrs. Weasley frowned deeply.

Mr. Weasley sighed heavily. "Be that as it may, I should have a talk with Crouch."

I didn't approve of his decision, but I knew that it really wasn't my place to say otherwise. Instead, I turned my head toward the ceiling as another door opened upstairs. I then looked toward the two adults and asked, "In any case, may I ask why Bill and Charlie are here?"

"Oh, right," Mr. Weasley said before giving a sheepish grin. "Ron says you're not a fan of Quidditch."

"I'm not a fan of any sports," I admitted.

"I managed to get tickets to the Quidditch World Cup through work," he said, "I have one for you, too, but if you don't want to go-"

"I'll go," I said right away, not wanting to waste his precious money.

He perked up. "Oh, good. It's the Irish Team versus the Bulgarian National Team."

I felt a bit stupid, but I nodded along as if I knew the exact nature of those teams. "How will we get there?"

"We'll be traveling by portkey," the man answered.

I made a simple noise of approval, figuring that would be the smart option.

Before we could continue the conversation further, Ginny entered the room. "Good morning!"

"Good morning," I said as I glanced at Ginny.

"I have a question," Ginny said as she looked at me.

"Ask away," I said.

"Why did Bill blow out the window to Charlie's room?" She asked.

"Bill did what?!" Mrs. Weasley shouted as she looked at me.

"During the night," Ginny said as if it should have been obvious, "Bill blew out the window. I only know because Charlie screamed about it."

"Why didn't you say something?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she gave me a glare.

"Well, they're probably sleeping off their hangovers," I said as I looked at the woman owlishly.

"And they're hungover?!" She exclaimed in horror.

"Is that why Bill is throwing up?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Most likely," I said honestly.

"They'll have more than just hangovers when I'm done with them," Mrs. Weasley growled as she got ready to storm upstairs.

Mr. Weasley said worriedly, “Maybe we should just-”

His wife wasn't listening as she began to stomp toward the staircase, grabbing her wand along the way.

Mr. Weasley winced before hurrying after his wife. “Molly, dear, they're not young boys anymore-”

“Which is why they should be better behaved!” The woman exclaimed, “It's like they're no better than Fred and George!”

I frowned deeply before looking at Ginny. “What's so bad about Fred and George?”

Ginny cringed as she looked her usual seat at the table. “Well, when Mum was cleaning their room, she found this stack of order forms. Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. I never knew they'd been inventing all that… Of course, we've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things. We thought they just liked the noise.”

“I'm taking it your mother doesn't approve of the joke supplies,” I said as I looked at Ginny carefully.

The girl sighed heavily. “Most of their inventions - well, all of it really - are a bit dangerous. That, and they were planning on selling it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. She told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burned all the order forms… She’s furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.L.s as she expected.”

I frowned deeply at that information. “If they plan on selling it, surely they want to do that for a living.”

Ginny cringed again. “Yeah. Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, but they just want to open a joke shop.”

“I don't see anything wrong with them following their passion,” I stated, “If they already had a stack of order forms, their inventions must be selling well. They'll be successful as long as they pick up a thing or two about finances.”

Ginny looked at me oddly for a moment before realizing, “You're being serious.”

“Why wouldn't I?” I asked with a furrowed brow.

“Well, I thought you wouldn't like Fred and George because they act differently,” Ginny admitted hesitantly.

“I don't particularly dislike any of your family members,” I said honestly, “Sure, Ron acts like a little git at school sometimes, but I don't find myself wishing he didn't succeed in life.”

Ginny hummed softly before asking hesitantly, “So… Do you honestly believe that Fred and George can run a joke shop?”

“Oh, I'm sure they can,” I answered, “They’ve already proven themselves at running a small business. For them to initially run a joke shop, however, they'd need enough money to sustain themselves for two months and a shop to actually sell from. I'm sure they could easily get those things, though, with how charismatic they are.”

“What do you mean they'll need enough money to sustain themselves for two months?” Ginny inquired.

“Before anyone can open a shop, they should have money that equates to two-months rent of said shop,” I answered, “It will allow them to pay certain bills - like the extra production of certain goods, utilities, and even getting more change for their registers.”

“You know a lot about business, huh?” Ginny asked curiously.

“My uncle is a high official in a drill-making company, and he wanted someone in the house to understand what he was talking about. I just so happened to be the one who listened and picked up on repeating words and meanings,” I explained lazily.

Ginny thought about my words for a long moment before asking, “Would you help them?”

I looked at her in confusion. “Help them with what?”

She flushed a bit. “I overheard them talking about needing help with money because Mum doesn't want to support them.”

I felt like frowning, but I managed to keep my face neutral. “Your Mum seems to be fine with Charlie taming dragons.”

Ginny cringed. “Well, she actually didn't want Charlie to become a dragon tamer. She didn't even want Bill to become a Curse Breaker for Gringotts, but Dad said that they should be able to follow their dreams.”

“What's different with Fred and George wanting to run a joke shop? It's still an industry that they're passionate about,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, but they aren't out of the house yet,” Ginny said softly.

I pondered this for a moment before asking, “Ginny, what does your mother want you to be when you grow up?”

“Mum wants me to be like her,” Ginny said as her nose wrinkled up a bit.

“That's a waste of your talent,” I said dryly.

Ginny looked at me in surprise. “My talent?”

“You're good at Quidditch, are you not?” I asked, “If you manage to make it on the Gryffindor team, you may get noticed.”

Ginny gave a sad sort of smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Ginny, don't sell yourself short,” I suggested, “Don't let your mother control what you do with your life, either. You're the one that will have to live with the decisions, not her.”

Ginny nodded pensively before looking up at me. “What do you want to be?”

“I don't know,” I admitted as I looked down at my hands. “All I know is that I'm good at studying, but horrible at everything else.”

Ginny frowned deeply. “Percy liked studying, and now he's in the Ministry-”

I sighed. “Ginny, I want to work for Fudge just about as much as you want Riddle to return.”

The girl winced at the mention of the Dark Lord’s younger self.

“I'm sorry,” I apologized, “That was insensitive of me-”

“Riddle tried to kill you, too,” Ginny said as she looked down at her hands.

“Who's Riddle?”

Ginny and I both jolted and looked at the doorway to the kitchen.

Mr. Weasley was frowning deeply as he stared down at us.

“D-Dad,” Ginny said nervously, “We didn't hear you-”

“Who's Riddle?” Mr. Weasley repeated. “What did you mean when you said ‘Riddle tried to kill you, too’?”

Ginny hesitated as she fiddled with her fingers, and I didn't know the proper way to dance around the subject.

I glanced at Ginny before sighing heavily. “You'd probably rather not know.”

Mr. Weasley sat down at the table. “I want to know, especially if this Riddle person tried to kill you both.”

I contemplated my words as Ginny cringed.

“Riddle was a Slytherin,” Ginny started slowly, “But he wasn't normal.”

“What do you mean by that?” Mr. Weasley pressed.

“Do you recognize the name Tom M. Riddle?” I asked instead.

“i don't,” Mr. Weasley answered.

“It's the real name of the man who killed my parents,” I said honestly, causing even Ginny to look at me in horror.

“How do you know?” Mr. Weasley asked, looking rather pale.

“I know because I asked,” I admitted before holding my hand up to stop any further questions. “Riddle managed to put a part of his soul into a diary, the same diary that Ginny had written in during her first year at Hogwarts.”

Mr. Weasley looked at his daughter as if hoping that she would tell him that I was lying.

Instead of doing as he wordlessly hoped, she said, “I didn't know it was anything besides an old diary before I wrote in it. By the time I realized it wasn't, it was too late.”

“The diary had compulsion spells placed on it, so anyone that had written in it would be compelled to write again,” I explained to the man. “Riddle was using that method to make Ginny grievously ill. In any case, I was trying to help Ginny get out from under Riddle’s grasp, and he knew I was trying to do so. In retaliation, he tricked me into a chamber that held a deadly monster. I was nearly killed, but I managed to kill the creature before it killed me. I then stabbed the diary with a poisoned blade, and that part of the Dark Lord died.”

Mr. Weasley looked physically ill as he asked, “Are there any lingering side effects?”

“I don't know,” I admitted as I glanced toward Ginny.

“There aren't,” Ginny said quickly.

“What about you?” Mr. Weasley asked as he looked at me worriedly.

I felt my brow furrow. “What about me?”

“You fought with a deadly monster and nearly died,” he said, “Do you have any lasting scars or side effects?”

“Madam Pomfrey healed me,” I assured the man.

“You're telling me that Pomfrey knew that my daughter was grievously ill, and she did nothing to warn me?” The man asked in a deathly calm voice.

“In fairness to Pomfrey, she probably felt that Dumbledore would tell you,” I said, “After all, Dumbledore was there in the hospital wing when I stabbed the diary with Riddle in it.”

“Did he know about - about Riddle?” The man asked as he braced himself for the worst.

“I told him about ten minutes before I stabbed the diary,” I said honestly.

Mr. Weasley looked horrified, and he tightly closed his eyes as if hoping that he’d suddenly wake up from a nightmare. He then opened his eyes and looked at me seriously. “You saved my daughter-”

“Before you go any further,” I said, “Don't feel the need to repay me.”

“What do you mean?” He asked in shock.

“Do you remember when you refused to allow me to repay you for your generosity?” I asked as I looked at the man carefully.

He thought about it for a mere moment before tensing.

“I saved her to repay what I believed to be a debt,” I said honestly, “I owed you, and so I paid it back in the only way I knew how.”

Hesitantly, the man asked, “What if I hadn't owed you a debt?”

“I still would have taken care of Riddle,” I answered honestly, “He threatened me in the beginning of the school year, and I wasn't pleased by the thought of him threatening anyone else.”

The Weasley patriarch nodded slowly before inquiring, “Do you know how the diary came into my daughter's possession?”

“I do,” I admitted, though I did so begrudgingly.

He waited for a moment before frowning. “Who did it?”

“I want you to know that this is all over, and I've dealt with it as I saw fit,” I said seriously.

“I understand, but if someone is carrying around pieces of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Ministry should know,” Mr. Weasley said.

“It's impossible for you to do anything about it now,” I pointed out, “If you stirred up trouble in the Ministry, it could come back to hurt you in a different way.”

Mr. Weasley seemed to understand my words, and he frowned before a flash of anger flicked across his eyes. In a soft voice, the man muttered, “Lucius.”

I sighed heavily at the man’s sharp intellect. “Please, don't do anything rash.”

Mr. Weasley was beginning to turn red in the face. “That bastard…”

Ginny looked at her father with wide eyes, clearly experiencing him cursing for the first time.

“Sir,” I said sternly, “You need to drop it for the time being. You can't win against Lucius as he is now. He basically has the Minister in his pocket, and nothing short of Lucius confessing that he managed to slip a Dark object into your daughter’s school books will get him in trouble.”

The man understood my words, but he was clearly far too angry to think about things rashly. “I ought to-”

“Listen to me, now,” I demanded harshly, causing the man to look at me with a startled expression. “You can get angry all you want, but don't you dare make a move against Lucius. You're the main breadwinner of your family, and you could lose your job or worse over any rash decisions you choose to make. If you get in trouble, your family will crumble.”

Mr. Weasley flinched at my words before saying hesitantly, “Do you really want me to do nothing?”

“I didn't say that,” I said as I sat back in my seat, glad that he was finally listening to reason. “If you truly want to avenge your family, you should do it the smart way. Look at every move Lucius makes in the Ministry. Watch his every action on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts. Listen to any gossip surrounding the man. Make sure that you properly document every single misstep he makes, be it professionally or personally. It’s not instantaneous, but it will be more impactful on Lucius’s well-being.”

Mr. Weasley stared at the table for a long moment before looking at me carefully. “Do you believe I can outsmart Lucius?”

“I do,” I said honestly, “Lucius may have the money to make most of his problems go away, but you aren't going to lay down and accept defeat with a simple bribe.”

The man finally lost some of his tension. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted.

Someone fell down the bottom few steps of the stairs, or at least that's what it sounded like as a loud string of curses followed right after.

“Charlie!” Mrs. Weasley yelled as if offended by the profane language.

Meanwhile, a man laughed loudly as rapid footsteps came down the stairs.

“It's not funny, Bill,” Charlie grumbled as he staggered to his feet and basically dragged himself into the kitchen.

“You're right, it wasn’t funny. It was hilarious, though,” Bill said with a grin that could only be described as Gryffindor in nature.

Charlie gave Bill a wicked side-eye before dropping himself in a chair at the table.

Bill continued to smirk as he sat down next to Charlie.

Mrs. Weasley huffed as she headed over to the fridge for some eggs. “I wouldn't be smirking for long, Bill. You're still going to degnome the garden with Charlie.”

Bill waved a dismissive hand before looking at me with a grin. “Name’s Bill.”

“I know,” I said, “We met last night. You thought I was Charlie.”

“Really?” Ginny asked as she looked between Charlie and I, clearly not seeing any resemblance.

“He really was plastered,” I said in his defense. “I was also in Charlie's room.”

Bill looked a bit embarrassed before recognition flickered into his mind. “Oh, right. I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“No, I'm fine,” I assured him. “The only thing hurt last night was the window.”

“I vividly remember my collectables being destroyed,” Charlie said as he shot Bill a glare.

Bill immediately snorted. “You also asked Colton to marry you for fixing them.”

“Wait, really?” Ginny asked as she looked at Charlie in shock.

Charlie looked horrified as he said, “Bill’s exaggerating.”

“He isn't,” I said as I forced my face to remain neutral. “I suppose I do look more feminine with my hair like it is, so I can't fault you.”

“You don't look feminine,” Bill waved off dismissively. “Long hair isn't exclusively a feminine trait, after all.”

Mrs. Weasley shot her eldest son a look as she eyed his long hair, clearly disagreeing with him.

“I suppose that's right,” I gave in, “Lucius and Dumbledore both have hair on the longer side.”

Bill nodded in approval.

“In any case,” Charlie interjected, “I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night.”

I waved it off dismissively. “I wasn't uncomfortable, so you needn’t worry.”

“Oh, yeah.” Ginny perked up as she looked at Charlie. “Did you ever get a girlfriend?”

The man flushed as he shrunk down a bit. It didn't take a genius to see he was uncomfortable with the question. “Er - well - not really.”

“Charlie, you can't just handle dragons until you die,” Mrs. Weasley lectured, “You should get a family, too.”

The man cringed minutely, obviously not wanting such a thing to be forced on him.

“I plan on dying alone,” I decided to pipe up, causing everyone to look at me with wide eyes. “I don't particularly want a spouse or anything like it.”

“You don't want a wife?” Mrs. Weasley asked as Charlie gave a somewhat appreciative look to me.

“Oh, goodness no,” I denied, “Besides, most of my acquaintances in Slytherin already have marriage contracts.”

“Well, what about children?” She pressed with a frown.

I forced myself to not give a disgusted look to the woman. “I don't want any children.”

“You'll change your mind when you get older,” Mrs. Weasley waved off dismissively, and Charlie rolled his eyes as his mother turned back toward the counter.

I was very doubtful, especially considering I found younger children to be nothing but nuisances. I decided to shift the conversation. “In any case, are you two here for the Quidditch World Cup?”

“Wouldn't miss it,” Bill said with a grin. “I can't wait to see Ireland flatten Bulgaria.”

“Yeah, but Bulgaria has Viktor Krum,” Charlie said.

“That's one good player compared to Ireland’s seven,” Bill waved off dismissively.

“What do you think about Krum?” Charlie asked as he looked at me.

“I don't keep up on Quidditch,” I said honestly.

Charlie and Bill both looked horrified.

“At all?” Charlie asked in disbelief.

“I don't even watch the Hogwarts matches,” I admitted.

“But - but Quidditch is so entertaining,” Charlie said as if he couldn't comprehend my disinterest in the sport.

“Not to me,” I said with a small shrug like I couldn't help it.

“Merlin, even Percy likes a good match,” Bill said before asking, “Do you prefer playing over watching?”

“I prefer studying over sports,” I replied.

“He does,” Ginny weighed in with a snicker, “I overheard Ron ranting at Harry after he found out that Colton spends Quidditch matches in the library. He called it a crime against wizardkind.”

“Ron has a flair for dramatics,” I said dryly, “He was more horrified that I didn't watch the match over the fact Harry fell off his broom due to a dementor attack.”

“That sounds like Ron, alright,” Bill said with a heavy sigh.

Even Charlie had to nod.

Before the conversation continued further, my paper finally arrived.

I accepted it lazily and opened it up to check the stocks right away.

“You read the paper?” Charlie asked incredulously.

“I mainly check my stocks,” I admitted.

“Stocks?” Bill echoed, “You're interested in such a thing at your age?”

“Indeed,” I confirmed as I made a mental note that the sneakoscopes were still selling well, probably because Lestrange managed to break out of Azkaban, too.

“Oh, hey, the result of the Black trial,” Ginny said as she eyed my paper.

I was quick to abandon my stocks and looked at the front page of the paper. I gave a smirk as I read that Sirius had been acquitted on all charges and would receive a rather large compensation for his wrongful imprisonment. “As expected. I only hope that Pettigrew is given the Dementor's Kiss once he's found guilty. Well, not that he'd last long in Azkaban anyway.”

“I can't believe Black was put away without a trial,” Bill said as he shook his head.

“I can't believe he managed to keep sane,” Charlie commented. “The dementors are awful creatures.”

“I still need to find something special to buy him for his acquittal,” I said as I looked at the advertisement section of the Daily Prophet.

“Why?” Ginny asked curiously.

“He deserves it,” I said honestly, “Maybe Remus would have some ideas.”

“Professor Lupin?” The girl repeated in surprise.

“He's my godfather,” I explained half-heartedly, “Sirius and him went to school together and were good friends before - well - you know.”

“I had no idea,” Ginny admitted.

I hummed in acknowledgement before I decided that I would try to pick Remus’s brain for good gift ideas. Merlin knew that I needed a good one to make up for all of the Stinging Jinxes I had hit Sirius with. Just as I was thinking about the man, the Floo flared to life.

“Who is it?” Mr. Weasley called as he got up.

“I'm sorry to bother you, but I got word that Harry’s here.”

“Oh, come in,” Mr. Weasley said right away.

Sirius stepped through the Floo, looking much better than he had at the beginning of summer. “Thank you for taking care of Harry.”

I huffed at the man from where I sat at the table. “What about me?”

Sirius looked at me with the single most blanched expression I had ever seen before motioning to his general being. “I want an apology.”

I winced a bit before saying, “I’m sorry for hitting you with the Stinging Jinx five times.”

“And?” He asked as he motioned for me to continue.

“I apologize for hitting you with that broom,” I continued.

“And?” He pressed.

I frowned before genuinely apologizing, “I should never have let you get hurt-”

“What?” Sirius asked before realizing what I meant. “No, no. Not that. You never wrote to me.”

I stared incredulously. “I didn't know you existed until last year.”

“You wrote to Remus,” he said with a pout.

“Sirius, you were getting a trial. You wouldn't have gotten my letters,” I pointed out.

The man realized I had a point, and he huffed. “Oh, fine.”

I rolled my eyes at the man.

He smirked at me before pulling something out of his pocket. He flicked his wand at it, making it enlarge. “Come get your present.”

I wearily stood up and approached the man. I took the surprisingly well-wrapped present before looking up at his face, which still sported those four large claw marks on them. “I… don't deserve it.”

He rolled his gray eyes at me. “It’s to make up for the lack of Christmas presents for twelve years.”

“Still, I-”

“Open it, or I'll hex you,” he threatened, causing Mr. Weasley to look appalled.

“Fine,” I grumbled before opening the wrapping paper. I stared down at the ancient grimoire before looking up at the man carefully. “Does Remus know you got me this?”

“I'm not scared of Remus,” Sirius said cockily.

I raised an eyebrow before waving him off dismissively. “Where do you live now?”

“Huh?” He asked.

“I want to know your living accommodations,” I reiterated.

“Why?” He asked suspiciously.

“Because I'm worried about you,” I admitted.

“I'm the adult,” Sirius said.

“Sirius, your best idea at getting Pettigrew known to the world was to throw his mauled body at the Minister,” I pointed out.

“Well, it worked,” the man grumbled with flushed cheeks.

I sighed heavily. “Sirius, just tell me where you live.”

“Or what?” He asked with a cocky look.

I didn't even hesitate to say, “I know you're inflicted with the Black Family Madness, but do you truly wish to know the answer to that question?”

“That's fair,” Black backed down right away, “I know you have it, too.”

“I do?” I asked with a furrowed brow.

“Your grandmother was a Black,” he explained.

I hummed, having not known that little fact.

“Anyway,” he said, “I’m living in my childhood home.”

“Which is where?” I pressed.

“You're not going,” he said right away, “It's no place for children.”

“I can't even know your address to write you letters?” I questioned.

“It’s 12 Grimmauld Place,” he said, easily bending to my will.

“Thank you,” I said, having plans to visit there in the future.

“Sirius?!”

The man in question perked up. “Harry! There you are!”

Harry rushed over to the newly acquitted individual and basically tried hugging the life out of Sirius. “I thought you were getting a trial!”

Ron stood nervously at the edge of the stairs, eyeing the animagus cautiously.

Sirius gave a chuckle as he looked down fondly at his godson. “I was acquitted yesterday, so I decided to find out where you were staying.”

“I'm putting this upstairs,” I told Mr. Weasley before heading up to Charlie’s room where my belongings were. I continued to glance down at the old grimoire as I did so, curious as to what it contained. I waited until I was in my temporary room before opening the cover.

Careful cursive handwriting scrolled across the front page.

I gazed down at the hand-made book, and I felt a sense of intrigue at the small lettering. I sat down on the bed and flipped the page once more. I was immediately greeted with the etymology of basic spells. I officially had a new hobby that I would occupy my time with.