Courting Destiny

The dark clouds rolled quickly by the sizzling cold wind shaking the leaves and branches. Provides tension before the autumn storm. The students spread out like black dots, looking from behind the branches and dense trees that stretched out, split by winding paths. The edge of the forest is the border with the forbidden forest, so no one dares to approach it. The muddy roads from last night's rain didn't complicate Marcus' pace with the boots already mourned, while Harry pocketed safely in a sling. Not only once was an envious look thrown at him, especially after a child fell on his back. As if to prove that, there was a loud sound of objects falling on the mushy ground not far behind them, followed by exclamations of disgust. Harry looked at the sophomore from behind Marcus' shoulder. It's no wonder that many of them hope to take a boat again like last year.

Hermione walked two steps in front of them with great concentration while slightly lifting her robe. He knew Marcus slowed down his pace so he could still keep an eye on Hermione in case the girl fell like the others. The girl breathed a sigh of relief loudly as soon as they came to one of the horseless carriages lined up. The students scrambled in so that they could immediately avoid the cold air, but no one dared to approach their carriage. The girl looked curiously at the carriages walking alone. "Trestral," Harry said, making the girl look up, "what attracted him was Trestral. A dark horse-like magic animal with bat-like wings," Harry gritted his shoulders. "I checked it in the book. You can't see it because only those who have seen death can."

"Oh, I thought it was magic-driven," whispered Neville Longbottom who was standing not far behind them. Instantly flushed as everyone's attention fell on her. It seems that he was left behind by the Gryffindor group of children because he stepped too carefully. He looked nervous as he looked at the one carriage he had left.

"You can see it?" but he knew Marcus wasn't really asking about it. The young man understood, what was it to check it in the book when Harry couldn't see it?

Harry nodded. "My mother," he said, grieving his shoulders. He vaguely remembered it. He thinks it falls into the category of seeing death, huh? His answer made a dead silence instantly and Hermione inched closer to him, providing support.

When Neville jumped in, one of his shoes was left in the mud. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed in a panic from behind the window of a train that was already running. Marcus accioed the thing easily and threw the muddy shoes to her. Made him stammer because he couldn't believe he had been helped by a Slytherin, more so Marcus Flint.

Their journey was not as pleasant as when riding a boat. There is no spectacular view of the castle, lake and mountain in the distance. Only the dense thickets and trees among the gloomy overcast sky. Harry hoped the rain wouldn't pour down before they got to their destination. Especially with them sitting crowded together. Good thing Marcus didn't mind him sitting on his lap. After all this is not the first time he has done that.

The admission ceremony of new students took place the same as the previous year, except with different points of view. Now he saw a line of first-graders standing nervously, waiting in line for selection. Harry returned a wave of Luna's hand before the girl ran to Ravenclaw's table. He tried hard to overwhelm the new black magic defense professor, as the man tried to wave goodbye to him while wearing a smile with brilliant teeth. He heard one of the Gryffindor children comment, "The Lockhart is great, huh? Not his brave play. Have you read the book? I would have died if I was cornered in the phone box by the Werewolf. But he was calm and really amazing."

Salah satu anak tahun pertama Gryffindor yang sepertinya adalah muggle-born menyahut, "Namaku sudah terdaftar di Eton sebetulnya. Tentu saja ibuku agak kecewa saat aku harus masuk kesini. Tapi setelah aku menyuruhnya membaca buku-buku Lockhart, kurasa dia mulai bisa melihat betapa bergunanya memiliki penyihir terlatih dalam keluarga."

Some of them were of course surprised to learn Harry Potter was in Slytherin. Colin Creevey for example. He seems to idolize the Surviving Child and hopes to break into gryffindor's dormitory to be with him. But of course those hopes were broken. In addition to the heartbroken children, there were also those who responded aggressively to the news, especially the new Slytherin children. After hearing harry potter's bad name in the family and also rumors full of false facts, they boldly blatantly showed dislike. Not that Harry cared. He's not too keen on the trivial conflicts in the dorms, while he's gearing up for something bigger, something that could take your life.

But that didn't hold back the anxiety of the Slytherin members who didn't want to arouse Marcus Flint's anger. Draco next to him cast a warning look at the three new children sitting in front of them. The three looked puzzledly at the panicked gazes and uneasy faces of the senior children. They thought that if Harry Potter entered the Slytherin dormitory, surely he would be at the bottom of the food chain, right? After all, this dormitory is a dormitory belonging to the black wizard.

"Harry," the emotionless baritone voice jerked the surrounding silence and made his friends and the senior students turn their eyes, acting as if nothing had happened. The three new Slytherins stared wide-eyed at, none other than, marcus Flint. The young man stood looming behind Harry with a bored look. And as if it had been done so many times that it became a habit, he stretched out his hand to help Harry out of the seat and lifted him easily in a sling towards the gathering place for the senior children.

Draco turned around, casting a sharp look at all the first-year children. "Don't bother Potter if you don't want to be a pariah here. That's Marcus Flint, and you should already know the consequences his name brings. It should be your parents or your brother's have already notified, otherwise it's none of my business."

One of them chimed in annoyance, "Why should I be afraid of Potter, or Flint? Aren't you Malfoy? Shouldn't you be commanding in this dormitory? Like being a Knight of Walpurgis."

Malfoy looked at him with a look of hopelessness. One of the fifth-year-olds sitting not far from them shrugs, "What happened inside the Slytherin house, stays inside the Slytherin house. Don't act like you know anything because of what you hear outside. No one knew outside slytherin house about the 'Knight of Walpurgis' not even among its members. So, as good as you are to be quiet before offending the wrong person!"

Another shrugs, "I won't take this conversation much further in the middle of the hall. Wait until Prefect explains how Slytherin's ordinances work. But as long as you know, Slytherin does consider blood and descent important, but there's something far more valuable than all that, Power. Take a good look at it and observe how politics is in this dormitory. And hope you guys stick around until graduation."

Meanwhile Harry, sitting away from all those conversations, was unaware of the tension it was causing. Unaware that sitting at the front of the table at dinner, showed his supposedly high status in that dormitory. A dynamic that is only known for generations by all members of the Slytherin house and its Head of the dormitory. He sits here not only because he is a famous person, but more because of his political ties to the Flint family and his title as the Heir of a noble family as old as Potter. Something that the average person seems to often forget behind his illustrious title as The Surviving Child or Hero of the Wizarding World.

Braak's sound and the cracking of hardwood vibrated the stone wall of the huge hall shortly after the red car passed by uncontrollably outside the tall window that was behind the backs of the professors. made all the children turn their heads wide and stand up pointing, among all the confused professors. After the plate stopped shaking, Harry picked up the piece of meat and put it in his mouth, indifferent to the confusion around him. Instantly Dumbledore jumped towards the Window to peer towards Whomping Willow, looking at the red car swinging horribly between the broken branches of a tree that moved irritably and horribly.

Marcus stood with the other Slytherins, his huge body easily breaking through the crowd towards the very front so that he could see clearly. The red car was concerned at Whomping Willow, something familiar to Marcus who looked intently at Harry waving his fork from the dining table with an innocent screech that made his eyes twitch.

A Ravenclaw commented, "Who is so stupid to drive a flying car to hit Whomping Willow?" Know very well how severe the punishment for damaging one of Hogwarts' ancient relics is; Helga Hufflepuff's self-planted tree! While the typical Gryffindors murmured full of admiration at the bold stupid whims. So it's not surprising that Gryffindor also flew it. Professor Snape went half-running with a cloak fluttering behind him like a bat, nothing but to give the fans a lot of punishment tonight. Perhaps while half hoping to punish Gryffindor, it doesn't mean that he is wrong! Harry was in love with his penchant.

"The car is on The Brideping Willow, huh?" commented Marcus as he sipped his pumpkin juice. Harry ignored him, as well as most of the talk that was around him. His attention was more on the folds of paper that were in his hands that made his stomach mixed. Hm... I don't see this.

Mr. Potter. Meet me after dinner at the principal's office.

The Key Word is Acid Pops.

Albus Percival Wulfric principal Brian Dumbledore.

"What does the old man want?" muttered Marcus, reading from behind Harry's arm. "Are you sure you want to go there alone?"

Harry nodded as he slipped the paper back into his pocket. He didn't know what the man was planning, luckily as Seer he had a natural Occlumecy that could protect his mind from Dumbledore's curiosity or manipulation. Harry looked at the old man and saw him shaking the glass at him with a smile. He lowered his gaze with a furrowed forehead. He had a bad feeling.

Albus Dumbledore's office is the same as what was seen before. The circular walls were filled with bookshelves until they touched the ceiling and the stairs spun to reach them. Not far from the round coffee table filled with rolls of parchment and open books, on a higher floor with its three steps, stood a glossy lacquered grand table full of strange tools that Harry didn't understand; a kind of pen that always sways its fur. He was sure that no one was familiar with all the uses of the tool other than Dumbledore himself.

"Ah, Harry, my son," he exclaimed, as Harry pierced ward mounted on the door. The familiar greeting made his fingers itchy to want to hold his wand. "Professor," he greeted in a neutral tone. "You called me?"

"Yes, yes. Please sit down, boy. Lemon drop?" Harry shook his head which was reciprocated with a regretful sigh. It was like Harry rolled his eyeballs. A high shrill voice jerked Harry and made him realize there was a red Phoenix perched not far above his head. "Ah, introduce this Fawkes, Familiar me, Fawkes, introduce this to Harry Potter." Harry blinked at the bird that was now perched on his shoulder. He didn't understand why there was a Phoenix who was willing to be Familiar with a person like Dumbledore. But he reminds himself that like the Unicorn, the Phoenix is not a symbol of truth, he is solely a white magic animal that has a tendency to get close to white magic users. They are just like Trestal and Basilisk for black wizards. There is even a type of Phoenix that is more inclined to black wizards, such as the Black Phoenix.

"Why are you calling me here, Principal?"

"Ah. I just wanted to ask how you're doing, Harry? After what happened this summer. You have to part with your family, of course you want to see them back, right?"

He felt legilimency's attack, but couldn't break through the total defense of his mind, "Do you always want to know each student's personal problems?" he asked, shaking his head. "Or is it because I am the Surviving Child?" The man gasped. "Answering your question, professor. I'm fine and really enjoy being under the care of the lord and lady Flint." he struggled to endure the headache. "But I'm curious why you asked me that? I didn't know the Principal had time to question every student in this school," he said passively. He knew the principal's agenda very well, but it didn't make him comment brainlessly. He's Slytherin, after all.

"Surely you want to go back to the Dursleys, don't you? For your protection?"

Harry blinked, "What do you mean?"

Dumbledore leaned closer while cupped his hands together, looking serious with an open gesture that made him look harmless. "You should know, Harry. Why do you have to go back to the Dursleys' house. Your mother has activated an ancient protection that made death eaters unable to touch you until now. That protection can only be activated by those who are inbred with your mother, so it is important for you to return to the Dursleys' home. I can help you to get back there and you don't have to be afraid of the lord and lady Flint. I can definitely convince them as long as you agree. The ministry will definitely also help."

Harry held his breath, looking at the smiling old man as if incredulous. This man is full of nonsense! "I didn't know that a schoolmaster could know to that extent about the personal matters of his students. Or have a power over the law," Harry whispered as he rubbed the top of Fawkes' head. A smile faded slightly from the old man's face. "You said just now, that protection can only be activated by those who are inbred? But do you know if miles Antiquis Protector is also activated with blood? They are all blood magic, and blood magic has always been categorized as dark. But I'm not surprised you know that, professor. You are researching about the usefulness of dragon blood anyway." Harry stood up. "You don't have to be anxious, professor. Miles Antiquis Protector is also equally blood protection, and it is also a very ancient magic. After all, Merlin, my ancestor, was also the one who made this protection." Harry patted his crumpled robe, without looking at the old man, he murmured, "I don't think there is anything we need to talk about again tonight," and turned away. But before he stepped over the doorway, he said, "and the professor? I'm not your son. So please try not to call me by that designation. Good night."

Marcus found it in one of the abandoned classes in several corridors not far from Slytherin's dormitory. Busy smashing tables and chairs with kalap. Her long hair was lifted around her face with static energy, while her emerald eyes flashed with anger every time her wand glowed. Had Marcus taken off his soundproof spell, there was no doubt the entire castle would have woken up to the commotion. But the young man chose to sit for him to channel his anger. When Harry was out of breath and just stood up without being able to raise his wand again, only then did Marcus approach him. The young man led her to sit onto his lap and let him calm down there. "I hate Dumbledore."

"I know."

"He's full of nonsense."

"Hm..."

"He told me to go back to the Dursleys."

Marcus tightened his grasp, "You know I won't let that happen."

"He told me to come back even though he knew what had happened to me."

"He knows?"

Harry nodded. "He's got a spy, my neighbor is a squib. I saw him report to Dumbledore."

"With your own eyes?"

"I saw it in a dream."

"Ah..."

Harry straightened his back and scanned Marcus. The young man looked back at him with a neutral expression. Let Harry find whatever he was looking for. Then the boy nodded briefly before putting his head on Marcus's shoulder again. "I tried hard to contain my anger there. Had I not known the man would not have been able to nod anymore, I might have burned down his office."

"Hm... something worth looking forward to. I heard that he has a Phoenix, you can burn it with the bird, all the way to make the fire bigger."

Harry rolled his eyes, "You sadistic."

"I'll show you what sadistic means," murmured a melodious baritone voice jerking the two Slytherins. Professor Snape stood at the door with sharp eyes and wrinkles spit on, "If you guys don't get back to the dormitory soon within five minutes." It made them rush over, half-run away.

No one knew as the man observed closely at all the broken tables and chairs, or the moment the man flicked the stick to make the room back to normal. Or as he kept one more secret about his two Slytherin students' conversations about Dumbledore. Not the first time, he found a Slytherin raging as a result of Dumbledore's unfair treatment. But on the Surviving Child? The white wizard's propaganda tool?

No matter what the old man had done to Potter, Snape now knew that no matter how hard Dumbledore tried, he could never affect Harry Potter. Because the boy had seen directly the opposite of his mask. Isn't it very interesting?

But there's nothing more interesting than watching Harry Potter trying to escape Gilderoy Lockhart. The Dark Arts Defense clown was undaunted, even under the gaze of Marcus Flint. It was funny to see that he couldn't escape because he had to take the man's class. It's not that class matters, if what is taught there is only about Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color or his greatest achievements or his secret ambitions. Who needs all that? Harry even dared to take refuge behind professor Snape, because only that man, at the very least, could keep him quiet. Even Harry was willing to replace the man's class with detention with professor snape at any time.

Lockhart's lunge and his chaotic class made Harry have to massage his head many times. Not to mention that his vision acted as if to warn him, it's just that, the vision was so mixed, making him incomprehensible. Like the red writing on the blank wall and the cat lying inundated with water in front of him. "Mr. Potter?" then the shadow faded leaving the walls clean and the floor dry. Harry turned to professor Snape. "Why don't you go to class?"

Harry observed the tall man who had always been shrouded in the black robe. Seeing her screaming in pain while grasping his arm, or when the red light made her fall helplessly on the pain of the forbidden spell. "Professor," he blinked.

He squinted. Then moved quickly to pull his arm. "Did you get another episode?"

"Huh," Harry realized the man led him towards his office. He pushed Harry in and pulled him down before giving him a pepper-up potion that he had picked up heavily in addition to the bad taste. The steam before long came out of her ears and her cheeks flushed back. He didn't realize until this moment if his body was shivering. No wonder Snape thought it hurt.

"Mr. Potter," the man faced the fireplace, turning his back to him. "I heard that there is a little turmoil in your custody affairs."

"Ah. Yes. Now I can finally get out of the Dursleys."

The man turned his head while squinting, his lips pressed into a sharp line, "Dursley? Before you were taken care of by the Dursleys? Like Petunia Dursley?" Harry nodded. He cupped his hands on his lap. Did not see the slowness of the storm of emotions that seemed to be on the petals of the potion master." How could the Flint family get involved?" Harry understood the curiosity of his head of the dorm. However, the incident was so sudden with the big news about the Miles Antiquis Protector without any reason why and why.

"Marcus saved me, sir," Harry shrugged, "I can't say my life in the middle of the Dursleys is full of rainbows and flower gardens."

"Look up to me."

"Sir?"

"You said mr. Flint saved you. Show me, what Dursley has done," the man was very tense, even more tense than the strings that were willing to break.

Harry shook his head, "I can't, sir."

"mr. Potter—"

"I can't because the marks from the injuries are gone."

"His injuries?" the man moved to grab her arm, looking at her with an intense look, and instantly his head seemed to be hit by Bludger.

"Sir!" Harry held his head, along with Snape groaning in pain.

"You've got Occlumency! How could a child as old as you—" the man wide-eyed, "Do you have a natural defense, mr. Potter?"

"Sir?"

The man cupped her chin, pulling her up to observe her expression, "Have you ever felt a headache when you stared at the head teacher?"

"Headache, sir?" Harry poked his head. "Not only with professor Dumbledore. But also when he stared with professor Quirrell." The man gasped and covered his eyes with his hands. He petrified like that long enough to make him uneasy. Before long the man said, "I'm sure you'll be safe with the Flint family because of miles Antiquis Protector, even if he's a black wizard."

"Are you anxious that they are related to the dark lord, professor?"

The man's dark eyes scanned Harry closely, "They are a family of black wizards, Potter. Any sane wizard will be careful of them because there is no doubt where the dark lord stands."

"But you're also a black wizard, professor," Harry grabbed her arm in a hard grasp that made the man unable to pull it back. "I know evil has nothing to do with black or white." With a single jolt the man pulled his arm and stood up quickly as if Harry had burned his beard. "Go, mr. Potter. Our business is over."

"Sir," Harry said politely. Left the potion master to calm the storm in his mind. Sorted out and analyzed all the information he got from their meeting. He wouldn't be a reliable spy if it weren't like that, anyway. But before leaving, Harry said from the doorway, "Sir, be careful of the puddles. Especially during and after the night of Helloween." The man turned hard, looking at her with his eyes flashing behind the shadow that the fireplace cast. "After all on those nights death was very close to us," before the man could be speechless, Harry closed the door.

Harry walked half-running down the deserted alleys of Hogwarts. The tip of his fingers touched his cold stone wall as long as he moved. Some say Hogwarts is not an inanimate object, it lives in the remnants of magic that guarded it for centuries into the shade of young wizards to develop their magic. That is evidenced by the large number of rooms that come and go according to needs. The castle is big, but no one knows how far and how big it is in it, because it is always changing and evolving over time. But there was nothing more spectacular than feeling Hogwarts move at the tips of his fingers or be nude.

Harry slowed down the pace as he knew Marcus was at the other end, on a dead-end corridor, inside a large wooden-pinned room. Not many people know this place, except for the senior Slytherin children, especially those who pursue the field of runes. Harry pushed his door slowly and saw the young man standing in a pentagram with a bare chest. The runes on his back glowed golden before disappearing into ordinary tattoos. A wave of his hand removed the symbols from the chalk on the stone floor. "Marcus?"

The young man combed his hair back. "I can't solve this by myself. There are no adequate professors or books at Hogwarts to help me understand the runes on the Miles Antiquis Protector. If I can't figure it out soon, I'm afraid it can't awaken the full potential of this Protection until it's too late. I need outside contributions."

"It seems that something has already appeared in your mind."

"Hmp. Do you want to accompany me to Hogsmeade?"

Harry blinked, observing Marcus's lopsided smile that kept many secrets.

Harry ended up like a bundle of secrets behind his disappearing cloak in Marcus' arms. Not to mention the robes and scarves to keep it from the cold air of October that reaches 11°C. Warm enough for the size of autumn in windy, wet Scotland. The water-repellent spell kept them from getting soaked as the drizzle fell over their heads.

Marcus cast a Notice-me-not spell at them, making each head turn towards the other. Even as Marcus stripped off his disappearing cloak and showed his Potter curly hair to the world. Harry observed with interest from the window of Madam Puddifoot's café where round tables were set up for each couple who wanted to hang out enjoying the cold autumn with warm tea and snacks, and one or two kisses. Harry squirmed with a red face, which was even redder when he saw Marcus's slanted smile. "You want to go in?" the young man whispered in his ear. I don't know why it was like there was a butterfly flying around him when he heard the low voice and the exhalation. Harry shook his head hard, making Marcus change his sling and make him face to face with a god-like face with sharp square jaws, high cheekbones and classic dark eyes. "You're sure? Madam Puddifoot's tea is famous for warming the body."

"But—"Harry blushed, "It seems to be a shop for couples," he turned his eyes quickly away from the window-by-side couple who were sharing a peck, his face dark red.

"Ah," marcus said, "But aren't we a couple? Couples in a conspiracy," Marcus added, recalling the irony of how they could have infiltrated Harry out of Hogwarts without being discovered. Feeling sorry for Harry's panic, the young man just passed through the café and the crowd waiting in line to take him to a safer place like the Honeydukes candy store. The place Where Marcus used to buy him sweets. Harry looked up in amazement at the glass bottles and cardboard boxes of candy piled high to touch the ceiling, becoming mr's candy supply. and mrs. Flume so as not to run out, especially when Hogwarts students storm every weekend.

Marcus let Harry fully fill his candy bags and pockets, separating some for Harmione, Draco and Theo. Marcus's powerful spell kept people's sights on seeing the second-year kid wandering around buying candy. "You didn't just take me to buy candy, did you?" said Harry as they looked at the streets from the store's doorway.

"Hm..." Marcus took a quick glance at his watch before leading them towards a quieter street with a few sheep left roaming around him. Soon Marcus walked into a tavern called Hog's Head. It's a small, unusually dirty tavern with dust that has accumulated for a long time not to be cleaned which makes its window glass no longer even translucent. The floor is invisible, covered with sand and dust. The whole room smelled of something like sheep. Even the shelf behind the bar looked second-hand. The man who was there was constantly wiping his glass, Harry saw that the glass was even more dirty. Harry wasn't sure he could drink or eat anything from this place.

Hog's Head seems like the type of place for business isn't right. Making it a place where people feel safe when hiding their faces under a hood. There is no hogwarts student here. Those who looked as young as Marcus also gave a dangerous aura. It's not a tavern for social gatherings or just suave. Reminded him of Knockturn Alley.

"Order?"

"Butterbeer. One," Marcus said.

The old man harry suspected was his age as long as his beard came shortly afterwards with their orders. His blue eyes scanned them vigilantly, making Harry inch closer to Marcus. His hand infiltrated Harry's waist to give him a soothing swipe. Marcus just stared at his glass, as if he had no intention of touching the thing. Harry was curious what they were doing in this place.

Before long, his question was answered. Two young men walked into the tavern, standing watching from behind the hood covering part of his face. When they opened it, the two of them were extraordinarily handsome, almost inhumane. His body is as tall as Marcus with muscles that are not like a wrestler, but more like a professional swimmer. Both wear the typical wizard's clothes behind their travel robes in a style that is not the most popular, but more like a fighter. The dark shirt features a vest, leather pants and a sword around the waist. Harry was sure there was a holster ward hidden in one part of their body. Both of them have long black hair, one of them is darker than the other. Blue eyes and Hazel gleamed staring at them before a slanted smile accompanied them. Instantly Marcus sat tense, apparently he was waiting for the two men.

"I didn't know you'd bring a friend, Marcus," one of them greeted as the two took their place in the empty seat in front of them. The two observed Harry with an interested look, probably also questioning why Marcus was dealing or bringing a small child to this place. After all, for a sophomore, it seems that Marcus and his friends seem to be as old as an ancestor. Perceiving Harry's discomfort, his smile widened even more, showing the tips of the fangs peeking between his lips, "Friends with such fragrant blood. Did you bring us Snack." Harry shrank back, realizing both were Vampires.

"Harry's a restricted area for you guys."

"Harry, like Harry Potter?" whispered another. He shrieked Harry's hand and pecked the back of his hand. "Introduce Hacan Tremere," her gaze fell on the silver bracelet on her wrist, "Sposa?!" her blue eyes floated in surprise at Marcus. A predatory smile slowly emerged, but it didn't shake Marcus's flat expression or his profile that remained calm. "When are you going to tell us you've already taken a Sposa, Marcus."

"Sposa!" The other vampire grabbed Harry's left hand and pecked it, "Introduce it. Seth Ravnos, the beautiful Sposa Marcus." Harry blushed violently. Sposa? Sounds like Italian. "Hey! I'm not pretty!" she withdrew her hand.

"Have the courage too!"

"What are you Vampires," Harry whispered, much bolder. If Marcus dared to meet the two Vampires, surely they would not be as dangerous as the Ministry feared, right?

"Vampire? of course! But also a good friend of Marcus. I'm sure he hasn't told you yet?"

"Of course. Who are you talking about Seth? Marcus the one who talks a little bit—"

"—More hitting." Marcus's growl made the two of them churn. "If you're curious about Vampire, I can answer all your questions, O beautiful Sposa. The Ministry has a big enough hand to lead public opinion in the wrong direction."

"Oh? So Vampires don't die from sunlight or holy water, or live from drinking blood?" it's really interesting.

Hacan replied, "Holy water is useless except for Muggle myths. As for drinking blood? Our diet is not just about human blood. We can eat any food without getting sick, but only blood can give us energy. Animal blood is not as delicious or provides energy as much as human blood, especially the blood of wizards, but we can survive," he grieved his shoulders." Although each blood has a different taste and as much as possible to still drink blood from humans. We have donors, anyway," he grinned, showing his sharp fangs. "As for sunshine? They're just like pinches on the skin, if we're human maybe we're worried about getting skin cancers. But no, the sun is as annoying as a puppy, it's pretty cute, but it's just dizzying."

"Seth meant, if it takes too long under the sun, the effect is just dizziness and loss of consciousness. But with one-two rune fruits carved into the skin, all of that can already be overcome." To Marcus he said, "Speaking of runes. You said we have something to discuss."

"Yes. It's about Miles Antiquis Protector."

"Ah. I've heard the news. An ancient magic you've activated, Marcus. Merlin Magic!," the young man shook his head, "I shouldn't be surprised when I hear you do the impossible."

"But of course it's not impossible because there are Merlin's own descendants." the two looked at Harry with old eyes that seemed to have seen everything. Of course, right? they are Vampires. I don't know how many centuries old they have been?

"Oh, we're not that old!" cried Seth offended. To Harry's surprise the Vampire could read his mind. The young man shook his hand, "I didn't read your mind."

"You're just like an open book, Harry Potter," Hacan smiled, "Your face projects your feelings. But as Sent said, we're not as old as you might think. We are still 17 years old."

Harry sputtered, "So you guys are just being changed?" isn't that supposed to make them feral?

Hacan shook his head. "We're not new Vampires. Only born Vampire."

"What the Ministry said is not true and most of the essays. Vampires aren't as immortal as you think. Born-Vampire stops aging in adulthood, around the mid-30s for human size. Then we won't age or die until someone manages to stab us in the heart," the young man grinned, "But even that won't necessarily kill us." Of course the two vampires would not tell him the secret of killing their own people.

"Speaking of runes," Marcus changed the subject, "Can you help me understand these runes," the young man thrust a folded piece of paper. The two observed the duplicate rune of the Miles Antiquis Protector curiously.

"Hm...ini including a combination of rune gael and ancient norse."

"Not to mention that pentagram," he said to his nodding friend, "We're going to take this to Avalon."

"I hope you guys can find something. Because I will still have a hard time awakening the potential of these runes without your help." said Marcus ending their conversation. "Of course, Marcus. Whatever it is for you, dear," Hacan blinked one eye wittily. The two took turns pecking the back of Harry's hand, before again lowering his hood and vanishing in the shadow as if it had never existed.

"Shadow Travel," Marcus said, still observing where his two friends were originally standing. "The kind of Apparated that the Vampire nation has because they're part of the demons."

"Oh. I hope it's not as hot as it is," Harry snuffed out. "Is Avalon the way they call their home? The name is similar to that in the legend of King Arthur."

Marcus snorted, "Avalon is a magic school. The oldest magic school, even older than Hogwarts. But rarely does anyone know about the mysterious school, because the opposite of most magic schools, the majority of those who go to school there are non-human. Even the Ministry of Magic didn't know about it. I can tell, just because the Flint family went to school there for generations after graduating from Hogwarts. They only accept those who are 16 years old and above, because the entrance exams are extraordinarily brutal."

"Oh... I'm sure it's not as brutal as wearing a sorting hat?"

Marcus grinned, "Brutal as you can see how the Vampire and Werewolf are dying. It wasn't the school where you got the letter and the address, and then you came there to be stuffed with old hats. Those who have the right to go to school there are only those who manage to find the place and go beyond the test."

"But that place is in England?"

Marcus nodded, "Only in a completely different dimension."

"Huh... I never knew anyone made such a place..."

"That's because originally Avalon did not function as a school, but an asylum for all magical creatures from the hunting and burning of muggles. Making the place the most secret and the hardest place to find. Its graduates are well known as originators and experts because Avalon still maintains the old curriculum that does not decriminalize magic. There is no white or black magic there.

The name of the Avalon magic school itself is quite familiar among purebloods as just a legend. No one really believes the place is real, except for those who have indeed had that knowledge for generations. I even doubt someone like Dumbledore knows."

"Are you planning to continue studying there after graduating from Hogwarts?"

"I'm still considering it." Harry could imagine Marcus going to school there because it was a place suitable for someone like Marcus; a place that is challenging and demands all the advantages that its students have just in order to survive.

That night, the nightmare again knocked on Harry's subconscious. Even if this is not something new, but the dream this time is much more terrible than the picture of bloodshed or the scattered victims of the dark lord.

Harry stood on his bare feet in a cold cabin that reflected the green light on somehow the beam of light from anywhere. At the end of this cold corridor appeared a closed iron door that looked like a place to store dangerous secrets. Harry walked up to him, no matter how real he was that the room needed to be shunned. There was no sound as the door moved open, but cold smoke came out of his mouth and his teeth bulged. The room was so death-laden.

The dark room looked like a cemetery. Its stone floor merges with high stones with ripples of water and waves moving in the middle; is like a mirror of the deep surface of the ocean. It moved slowly, but had a huge deadly wave in it, dragging anyone in.

Harry's ears were ringing by the sound of a woman's scream, getting longer and louder, shrill to the point of hurting his ears— "Don't Harry, don't Harry!" Harry stepped back while holding his ears and his feet tripped over to make him fall to his knees hard. His breathing gasped as he realized that his leg had tripped over a human arm. She sobbed and was out of breath as familiar black eyes looked at her. Marcus lay there blankly and a careless body like a useless old doll. Then he saw himself reaching for Marcus while wailing. Then the other voices appeared around him screaming spells and fighting. The legs moved between the lying bodies. Emerald green eyes looked back and with a fervory of resentment and despair, it saw itself screaming, "Beware!"

Harry gasped awake. Marcus moved on it full of anxiety. He felt his whole body tremble and cold sweat oozes profusely, as miserable as his tears. He felt his cheeks cupped and Marcus' lips moved without him being able to hear his soothing voice. Before long the sounds of footsteps sounded and the potion bottle was affixed to his lips. The bitter taste was like triggering his five senses to return, because he could now hear professor Snape's melodious and heavy voice. He could feel Marcus's strong arm supporting him again. "Mr. Potter, have you returned to us?"

"Professor...?"

"Good. You'd better lie back down. Do any parts of the body hurt?"

"It's just cold..." before long his body felt warm. Observing the gaze of the potions professor, Harry said, "Just a nightmare, sir..."

"Nightmares don't put you in a coma or lose your breath, mr. Potter," the man said firmly. "You got a little episode there."

Harry inched into Marcus's arms. No matter whether any professor saw, Harry immersed himself in Marcus as if to become one. His body trembled violently for different reasons. He recalled his dream and it terrified him. "No, no Marcus," Harry cried again.

"Shhh. Shhh, harry it's just a nightmare."

Harry shook his head hard. "No. Promise not to walk into the room. I beg you, Marcus."

The young man cupped his chin, "What room are you referring to?."

Harry's gaze was foggy as he whispered, "Room of death. Veil Space." The jolt of professor Snape's breath made Marcus cast a serious look at the professor. Harry fell asleep again from exhaustion, as the two men there stared at each other.

"You know what he means, professor?"

"Veil and the room of death? I only know that one kind of place. A hidden room in the Department of Mystery. What do you think he has seen, mr. Flint?"

"He's just a nightmare, professor."

"We both know if that's not true, mr. Flint."

"Then what do you think, professor?"

"Hm... Whatever it is there is nothing wrong with listening to it carefully. We Slytherins always gather every opportunity. Who knows what he said was the advice we needed," the man replied riddledly. Marcus didn't know if the man was suspicious of Harry's talent, he was a very smart man, after all. "Good evening, mr. Flint. I'll close my eyes this time and assume Harry stays asleep in his room like the others." his voice disappeared behind the closed door. Marcus tightened his arms, looking seriously at the rainwater knocking on the window glass.

Harry woke up when it was almost noon. He is grateful that today is sunday, so he doesn't need to make excuses to skip class. He went downstairs to find Marcus and had breakfast, only to find the young man sitting in front of the fireplace with a few senior children. Harry remembered they were on his first night in the dorm, sitting in the same way, like a hierarchy with Marcus as the center. When they saw Harry, they elbowed each other and nodded before saying goodbye one by one. Leaving Marcus alone with a book on his lap. The book looked complicated with language that looked older than latin. "Seth sent me some books that he thought could help me understand the Miles Antiquis Protector rune."

"Ah..." Harry glanced at the tall pile, "It found... pretty much."

"Vampire, Harry. They don't sleep. I'm sure they used that short time to search avalon's library. I need to return these books as soon as possible, mainly because duplicate spells cannot be used on these books."

"Oh, I won't bother you, then—" Harry gasped as his body was thrown in the lap.

"You can have lunch here," the man nodded at the tray that suddenly appeared as if the house-elves knew they were in need. Harry looked at his surroundings suspiciously, especially at the dark shadows and narrow cracks, hoping to find the long ears of the elves swirling around. Her attention returned as the muffin was pushed to her lips. Marcus raised an eyebrow. Harry let Marcus feed him while squashing in annoyance and cast an angry look at those who accidentally crossed the common room. Make them turn around at a quick pace, deciding now is not the time to enjoy the fireplace.

But that didn't hold back the Bloody Baron, the ghost of Slytherin house, infiltrating the infiltrate to invite Harry in a ghost party on Halloween night. It was unpalatable to refuse, Harry looked at Marcus. The young man replied, "Sure, sir Baron." The ghost man looked happy before saying goodbye. Marcus curled his shoulders, "I'm curious. I have never been to the party of the ghosts."

"You think why did he invite us?"

"It invites you, I'm just as +1."

"I'm curious about what the ghost party banquet looks like. What is ghost food indeed?"

"Hm... life energy?"

"I don't want to imagine that there are students under the hood of the serving!"

"Probably Hufflepuff. They always seem to be carefree, their life energy is higher."

"I don't want to imagine that there is a child in an orange scarf under the serving hood!"

The night of October 31. One time of the year where the nights get darker. There is a chill in the air and the boundary between life and the world of the dead is very thin. A night where it's time to reflect on yourself and develop spiritually. Quite a thrilling night for Harry who first performed the Samhain ritual.

There were only Marcus and Harry in their private room. All objects are removed to give free space, where Marcus sprinkles lime powder forming a circle that becomes a symbol of the repeated circle of life and death, a symbol called the cycle of life and death. Unlike the Halloween which is filled with frenetic, decorations and costumes. Samhain is more about surrendering to think about birth, life and death. Total surrender to the spiritual side and reverence for those who die.

Marcus ended it by placing candles around the circle. Then he guided Harry to sit cross-legged in the middle with him. "Remember, as I taught. Take a breath and let your magic guide you. You'll feel it like a moving stream of energy."

Harry nodded. He cupped his hands down and imitated Marcus, he closed his eyes. Marcus's voice echoed in silence;

'This is the night when the gate between our world and the spirit world becomes thin.

Tonight is the night to call those who came before.

Harry felt his magic turbulent, reaching out and sputtering. Touching something that is beyond the limits of common sense.

Tonight I summoned the ancestral spirit.

I welcome you to join

Harry was in an intoxicating vortex, as he opened his eyes, he was no longer in their room. Harry stood back in the morrow's room. The veil in front of him was undulating and reflecting his reflection. The bounce said, "Alert!" then he returned in a hard vortex, falling into the rocky ground with old tombstones that looked fragile and slanted. Next to him the Hufflepuff team Seeker looked at him with his empty blue eyes. His mouth moved, "Alert!" the wind vortex again drowned him as he heard Marcus' voice;

Greetings to you, Anubis! O wolf the representative of the world of the dead.

Greetings to you Demeter! O mother of darkness.

Greetings to you, Hecate! O gatekeeper between worlds.

Greetings to you, Freya! O daughter of folkvangr, protector of those who died in the fight.

Take care of the spirits of our ancestors.'

A soft, icy-cold sweep touched her cheek. "Harry. O... Harry... My Harry..." The sweep was like the end of a cold bones. "Before long, Harry... My Harry..." the whisper faded and vanished as he opened his eyes.

Next to him Marcus supported his limbly body as if to bear a heavy burden. And he himself only realized that he was lying helplessly. "Wow..." Harry whispered. "What does it always feel like that?"

"It depends on what you've already felt," Marcus grinned. He helped Harry up and clean up the remnants of their ritual. "Are you ready to go to the ghost party?" Harry groaned loudly.

Harry was half grateful not to find a hufflephuff between empty plates, or any food in general. The party was quite boring with the ghosts gathered together to tell the story of their deaths. Harry was drowsy in Marcus's lap because it was already quite the night and the Samhain ritual they had just performed was quite energy-consuming. They decided to return early without waiting for the party to break up, as Harry realized he felt something was wrong. "Did you hear that?" whispered Harry.

"What?"

"That! He said he was so hungry... it's been so long... kill... time to kill..." Marcus looked at him strangely. "What?"

"You're not talking, you're hissing."

"But I am—"

The splash of water stopped their footsteps. A pool of water filled the corridor, Harry gasped and pointed at the tembol with red writing not far from them. The inscription said, The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened. The Heir's Enemy, Beware!

"What's that hanging underneath—" Harry's voice trembled. "Oh, god. Mrs. Norris!" the school guard cat was hung on its tail from the elbows of the torch. His body was stiff as a plank, his eyes widened. The rumbling sound seemed to have a thunder in the far away, telling them that the Halloween party was over. From both ends of the corridor came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, as well as the carefree and loud babbling of children whose stomachs were full. The next moment hordes of students sprang up from both ends of the corridor.

The babble and chatter stopped abruptly and replaced the sound of a gasp in horror. The silence surrounded the students who were crowded into each other, suddenly wanting to be at the forefront to see. "What's the matter? What's the matter?" voiced Argus Flint, the school guard could be heard trying to break through the crowd. "My cat! My cat! What happened to mrs Norris!" he squealed. And his eyes looked at Harry, "You!" he squealed. Marcus instantly caught Harry and carried him high in a sling. Harry turned his eyes only to see mrs. Norris hanging, and then he hid his face into Marcus's neck while tightening the hug. "You killed my cat! You killed him, I killed you, I hoarded—"

"Agust!" Dumbledore's voice was thunderous.

Dombledore was already on the scene, followed by several professors. In an instant, he had even broken through the frontmost crowd and took away mrs.'s body. Norris. "He's not dead. Just petrified." The other professor told the crowd to disperse. "But how, I don't know..."

"Ask him!" the squib man exclaimed, pointing at the terrified Harry.

"I never touched mrs. Norris!" exclaimed Harry.

"I have, I have, Argust. Mrs. Norris did not die. You can rest assured, we can find the culprit. Recently Madam Sprout managed to get Mandrake. Once those Mandrakes were fully grown, I would tell them to make a potion that could resuscitate mrs. Norris is back. "

"But my cat was petrified! I want anyone to be punished!"

"Let me make the potion!" Lockhart interrupted. "I've made it a hundred times. I can shake the Mandrake Restorative Fluid in sleep—"

"I'm sorry," Snape said coldly. "But I think I am the potions master in this school."

The atmosphere became awkward.

"You guys can go," the principal told Marcus and Harry. Made them leave as fast as possible, almost half-running.

On Marcus's neck, the sophomore whispered, "Don't I have to tell them about those whispering voices?"

"No," Marcus said, saying like he was cumping a lemon. "I seem to know what it is."

"BASILISK?" exclaimed Harry as soon as they were alone in the room.

"Yes. It's a famous legend especially for Slytherin house children. The basilisk guarding the Chamber of Secrets. Abandoned by Salazar Slytherin before he left the school to hunt the mud-blooded children."

"But if it's true that it's a Basilisk, why mrs. Norris is just petrified and not dead?"

"I don't know. We need to look for it from the books."

"But it doesn't explain to me about those whispers..."

"Try to repeat what you heard."

"So hungry... it's been so long... kill... time to kill... the sound was done with a terrible whisper."

Marcus blinked, he cupped his chin, looking thoughtful.

"What?"

"But before, you didn't say that."

Harry looked at her puzzled. "Then what do I say?"

"You're hissing."

They exchanged glances.

"Like a snake," Marcus chimed in quickly. "Harry," he said seriously. "Can you talk to snakes?"

Harry looked at her puzzled. "Of course. Aren't all penyihrs?"

Marcus grinned dangerously, then laughed out loud, "Oh, Morgana... We need to go to Gringotts."

"Why?"

"Because we need to test you. Hereditary tests. I suspect that not only Merlin's blood is flowing in your body."

Marcus takes Harry on Hogsmeade's next visit to Gringotts bank. There is a benefit to being apperated, because the two places are not close together. Griphook was surprised to hear the reason for their visit, as usually only the missing children did. But he also couldn't wait to help because of his curiosity. Of course it's not for random reasons, right? A Potter asked for this kind of test.

It is undeniable when names began to appear above Harry's name. The name continued to grow, far from what he expected. Apparently potter's name wasn't always Potter. His ancestors changed their last names many times, times. Potter, Povel, Pavol, Pavel, Paverell. The name continued until they discovered the name of Salazar Slytherin's second child, Percival Slytherin. The name before he deleted his last name and replaced it with Paverell.

"Oh my god. Apparently not only my wand is brother to Voldemort!" he whispered in horror. "How could there be no previous Paselmouth in the Potter family!"

Griphook said, "Maybe mr. Potter, because unlike the first descendants of Salazar Slytherin, your ancestors did not attach importance to the purity of their blood so that ability disappeared over time. Spare you from the curse that Gaunt suffered because of inbreeding." The Goblin man sealed his parchment so that no one other than Potter could touch the thing, "And it's possible, the dark lord's curse has awakened that ability," the man's fingers moved overshadowing the wound on his forehead, but did not touch it. "Anyone knows black magic leaves an unexpected mark."

Harry whispered anxiously, "What does it mean that I am the heir?"

Marcus shook his head. "Of course not. We are together every time and the bracelet you wear tells me if you are in danger. Just think about it, who would the heir be if not the dark lord."

"So you believe if the dark lord is still alive?" whispered Harry as he shifted his sitting restlessly.

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "You don't believe it?" he said skeptically.

Harry shook his head. After all, this is not the first time that the dark lord has infiltrated Hogwarts. "But I thought you were as dead as the others."

"Harry. Any sane wizard knows if the dark lord is still alive. A one-year-old child is unlikely to be able to kill him. Even with the rituals your mother performed, people like the dark lord have 1001 ways to keep themselves alive. You think why Dumbledore refused to be made Minister of Magic and chose to remain the principal? Because in case the dark lord attacks back, the single most powerful stronghold in the wizarding world is Hogwarts. Maybe he can now infiltrate, I don't know in what form. But he will not be able to subvert Hogwarts. After all, it is there where the best people in all fields gather. We have masters of potions, herbology and more."

"Except for Lockhart."

"Except for Lockhart," Marcus nodded.