Courting Destiny

Harry followed Griphook through stone passages full of stalactites. The torches stuck in the walls, lined up providing a reddish glow to illuminate their path. Harry tightened his cloak, his little hand gripped Marcus's arm, while the young man cast a wary look at every corner of the swaying dark shadow. Their train waited 1 km above the top of their heads, while they walked further underground, going into the innermost part of the Gringotts bank.

Griphook stopped on a dark branched passage. He motioned for Harry to come forward and pushed him in on one of them. I couldn't figure out how the goblins recognized one passage with the other, because harry thought they all looked the same. Perhaps they distinguished it by their noses.

As his feet treaded into the dark passage, instantly the flames on the torches attached to both sides of his walls ignited with a magical white flame. In tandem, the torch lit up to the end of the passage, where the stone door stood four meters in front of them.

The stone door was carved in a triangle with a Phoenix in the middle. The phoenix spread its wings as if it was welcoming, or even scaring the enemy. Harry observed a palm-sized recess; is exactly the key to the Potter family vault. He cast his gaze once on the goblin, he then placed his palm there. A second felt a puncture as the vault took its blood; one of the security belonging to the goblin to ascertain whether he is worthy of opening that secret storage space, or not. Before long, from the crack of the door, there was a bright beam and the stone door also crackled open.

The first thing Harry thought of was the pile of money there was quite a lot for an ancient vault. He was grateful that Voldemort could not get the vault. He couldn't imagine what the snake man could do with him, because although the money here was not much, but the books stored on the high shelves until they touched the ceiling must have stored information that was much more valuable than all the money on the face of the earth.

Just like Potter, there are no family paintings left here. But Harry's attention was drawn to one corner, where his walls and closet were filled with a collection of weapons. With impulsive impulses and scorching eyes, he stepped down the gap between the gold and the bookshelves and stood on a row of swords on display. His petals moved quickly on each of those weapons, while his steps staggered like a drunken man. Had Marcus's hands not been secretly supporting his two arms, maybe Harry had already overturned a while ago.

Griphook looked at the Heir Potter curiously. As he managed to see her face, what he saw made him wide-eyed; the pupils of the Potter heir's eyes left only the white color. And the boy moved like a doll, moved by something beyond common sense. The goblin noticed how his fingers swept one centi on a sword with a golden plating on a black hilt with a scabbard of the same color.

A sword familiar to the goblin nation!

Suddenly, his hand shot out, jerking out the sword out of its sheath, showing its long and shiny silver blade. Harry stared expressionlessly, still with his white pupils, what a scene that made anyone swallow hard. His monotonous voice echoed with the magic of the silent cave, saying to Marcus, "Miles, da manum tuam,"—knight, give your hand.

Thankfully, Marcus was fluent in Latin, so without hesitation, he thrust his hand. The young man's expression was inversely proportional to Harry's, full of concentration. His frowning forehead realized how serious this situation was.

It was shocking as Harry put the hilt of his sword on Marcus's palm. A second later, on the blade appeared a series of ancient runes like blue lightning shining extremely brightly, before finally disappearing in an instant. Marcus observed the sword with a look of amazement. Feeling the magic energy wafting from there, touching the center of his soul.

Feeling the magic energy radiating from there, touching the center of his soul

"Excalibur," Griphook whispered in amazement. Along with Marcus capturing Harry's lunging body.

The moment Harry opened his eyes, his pupils returned to normal, "Oh, you got the sword," Harry said, nodding in satisfaction, as if nothing big had just happened.

Marcus looked at it with a difficult expression, as if he was in an inner war how to behave. Finally he only responded to Harry by saying, "This is your sword."

"And then? I gave it to you."

"It's Excalibur."

Harry looked at him puzzled.

"His sword is king Arthur," Marcus added.

"I know Excalibur," Harry frowned, "That's why I gave it to you. I don't wear a sword. You're the one wearing."

Marcus sighed, "I don't understand you at all."

"So am I," Griphook said.

Harry grieved his shoulders. Neither did Harry.

He patted Marcus's chest, saying, "Take it easy. The sword should indeed be in your hands." Harry turned around and said to the goblin, "Okay, Griphook. Our business here is over. You can take us back."

"It's not that you are here to look at the investment capital?"

Harry grieved his shoulders, walking ahead of them. Marcus moved a step behind him with his hand sweeping a few flicks from Harry's shoulder as if worried that he would fall limp at any time. Unaware of that, Harry instead said to Griphook, "I've invested, really," to Marcus. Hopefully he can help us all, Harry's inner. He shuddered as if he felt someone was stepping over his grave; his premonition for a dark and dangerous future.

The first person to see the sword on Marcus's waist was Blaise Zabini. The child stared with his wide-eyed black eyes. As a pureblood, he knows what kind of person bears that kind of sword. Moreover, Marcus didn't bother to hide it. He proudly took off his outer robe just to make the sword clear. Of course, there was an uproar among the professors, because the rules at Hogwarts prohibited carrying sharp weapons. But professor Snape plainly pointed out there were much more ancient laws before Hogwarts existed. The law belongs to pureblood.

Here, Marcus Flint is not judged as a student but as a knight carrying out tasks. Especially with his age that is already considered an adult, making him out of Hogwarts rules. Puts it in the same position as an appretice or professor. This forced Dumbledore back with a wry smile, realizing that no matter how high his position in this school or in Wizengamot was, he still couldn't break the ancient magic law.

This made Gryffindor think twice when he wanted to disturb Harry.

But apparently the sharp tip of the sword couldn't save him from the brutality of the Bludger ball. The ball shot out of control towards Harry who was maneuvering with his flying broomstick. He could feel the Bludger sweeping his hair, almost hitting it. "Almost, Potter," exclaimed Ardian Pucey who hit the ball towards Gryffindor. But the ball again reversed course in the middle of the air and again targeted Harry. What an interesting way of spending Saturdays, crushed by Bludger. He knew this was going to happen. Even so, he still hopes that Dobby will stop his efforts to save his life by killing him. But apparently he can't rely on the logic of the elves.

Harry quickly swooped down avoiding his ball, making Malfoy, who was in the right position, successfully hit him towards George Weasley. But, once again the Bludger turned around like a boomerang and slid towards Harry's head. Dobby, I won't survive the Basilisk with a broken head! He accelerated the pace of his broomstick and darted to the other end of the field. He could hear the ball roaring behind him. Fortunately Marcus was already waiting in front of him, as soon as Harry darted past him, the captain hit the Bludger hard and made the ball fly off the court.

It started to rain. The large drops of her water blocked the view, making her eyes blurred. He couldn't see anything, fortunately commentator Lee Jordan told him the course of the match; Slytherin led 60 to 0. Two Slytherin members docked each other on Harry's right and left, his blurred vision could only see a pair of arms swinging to dispel Bludger who hadn't stopped targeting Harry. Had there been none of them, Harry would have been finished.

"There is... who pranked... This Bludger!"

"We need a time out!" exclaimed Marcus as he prevented the ball from breaking Harry's nose.

Madam Hooch's whistle sounded after hearing Marcus's exclamation. It should be that with that whistle mark, the ball stopped moving. But what happened was, the damned Bludger infiltrated the beater's second defensive gap. Instantly with the loud DUGG sound the ball managed to hit his arm and break it. Harry slid down, circling at high speed. Fortunately Marcus's instincts soon took over, he darted flying to grab Harry's broomstick and tried to keep them from being crushed. In the end Marcus had to jump up, take Harry out of his broomstick, and use his abilities like a professional gymnastics athlete to land them unharmed on the ground; using a large part of his body to keep Harry from impact.

With a blurred vision from the rain and pain, Harry looked at Malfoy's face that was looking anxiously at the top of him.

"What's going on..."

"Bludger broke your right hand," Marcus' voice came from below. Only then did he realize that his body was lying helplessly above the young man. He was able to sit down just because Marcus supported him.

His arms hung twisted in a very awkward position. In his pain, he heard as if from a distance, screaming and screaming. He concentrated on the Snitch clasped in his healthy hand. "We won?" came an incredulous whisper from Marcus that sounded like it was not far from his ear.

Then Harry's head was down again. For a few seconds he was unconscious, during which time Marcus grabbed him in a sling. When he woke up, they were still in the middle of the field. He heard a familiar male voice and made him horrified, "Let me help," professor Lockhart ran towards him.

"Oh, no, don't him!" she whispered frantically. But before the man could do anything, Marcus had already pulled out his magic wand and pointed it at the man with a threatening gesture. Made him take a few steps back with a frightened look, though still trying to maintain a smile. In the distance came Lee's voice making a comment, "WILL THIS MATCH BE REPLACED BY A WIZARD DUEL!? Oh! THIS WOULD HAVE BEEN REMARKABLE HAD WE BEEN ABLE TO SEE FLINT CASTING A CURSE ON PROF LOCKHART. PERHAPS OUR BELOVED PROFESSOR—,"he said saccharistically, "—CAN DEMOTE BETTER THAN WHEN TAKING CARE OF PIXIE!" the mostly female audience screamed booooo! While the rest applauded enthusiastically. Hope to see the black magic defense professor being beaten once or twice.

Before long the professor ran towards them. Perhaps Harry was imagining when he saw professor McGonagall's proud smile aimed at Marcus's wand that was still unsheathed. After that, he didn't remember anything else.

Hours later, Harry suddenly woke up in pitch black and squealed in pain. His arms seemed to be covered with large fragments of bones. For a moment he thought it was what made him wake up. Then in horror, he realized someone was wiping his forehead with a sponge in the dark.

"Dobby?!"

His voice made Marcus who was sleeping on the chair beside him wake up. The young man jumped when he found an eyeball protruding as big as a tennis ball staring in the dark. An ar eye rolled from his long, pointed nose. "Harry Potter is back at school," he whispered languishingly, "Dobby has been warning back and forth, sir. Why don't you listen to Dobby."

Marcus put away Dobby's sponge and sat by Harry's side to push his body into his lap. Her broken hand rested comfortably on the cloth used to support her. Magic apparently spared him from the cast. "You no longer need to try Dobby. I'm safe here because there's Marcus."

"Dobby knows, sir. Powerful Wizard Marcus Flint vows to protect Harry Potter, sir. But even the Powerful Wizard can't beat the Most Evil Wizard in the Entire World! Ah, if only Harry Potter knew," he lamented. "If only he knew how precious Harry Potter would be to us, the lowly, the slaves, we are the scum of the magic society! Dobby remembers how things were when He Whose Name Should Not Be Mentioned was at the height of his power, sir. We house elves are treated like bedbugs! Of course Dobby was still treated that way and got horrific threats at least five times a day. But life is much better once you've managed to beat it. Harry Potter survived, and the power of the dark lord was broken, it was like a new day. Harry Potter is like a beacon of hope for us... recalling those dark times back again to Hogwarts... Dobby can't let Harry Potter stay here now when history is about to repeat itself!"

"I can't go anywhere, Dobby!"

"Harry Potter Must!"

"Dobby. I have to stay tuned. Had the Evil Witch succeeded, only I could have prevented him—or Marcus."

"Harry Potter risked his life for his friends," Dobby said sadly mixed with happiness. "What a glory! What a valiant! But he must save himself, must, Harry Potter must not..." Dobby suddenly stayed fixed, her ears shaking. Harry heard it too. There were footsteps approaching in the front hallway of the room. "Dobby must go!" the elf whispered in fear along with a loud crackle and he disappeared.

The next moment Dumbledore walked back in, wearing a long woolen room suit and a nightclub. The old man carried the end of something that looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared a second later, carrying his legs. Together they lifted the statue onto the bed.

"Call Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore whispered between the slightly unflinching curtains, apparently unaware of Harry and Marcus peeping. At the mediwitch the principal explained there had been another attack.

"There was a sprig of wine next to him, we suspect he was trying to sneak here to see Potter."

"Or maybe want to take a picture of it secretly," said professor Snape's voice, which did not appear to be the bridge of his nose. A burst of hiss from the camera made the three professors and mediwitch stare at the smell of burning plastic.

"Gosh..." Madam Promfey whispered, "Melted... it's all melted."

"What does this mean?" the head of gryffindor's house asked.

"It means that the Chamber of Secrets has been reopened."

"But, Albus... who?"

"The question is not who," Albus looked at Colin. "But how..."

After the three adults left the two of them in the dark with petrified Colin, Harry whispered, "We can't let all this continue to happen."

He could feel Marcus's body inching behind him and a sigh of breath in his back as he said, "What's your plan?" the hard belly and chest pressed against his back, while the big palm rubbed Harry's waist in a soothing motion. Harry looked up, making his curly hair children tickle the tip of Marcus' nose and made the young man shift his head so that Harry's head fell into the crack of his shoulder.

"We won't be able to do it now. It wasn't until you could actually master the Rune Miles Antiquis Protector."

"Then I'll try harder and harder," she whispered. "But before that, even heroes need sleep. Close your eyes." Harry rolled his eyeballs, but inched in a hug and tried to sleep.

Every time Harry woke up in the morning. One question that often comes to his head is how can the future and the past relate like this broken thread? Harry didn't know how, but he knew where. It was originally at this point. By the time the little Weasley was holding a cursed diary it was as if it were a life-saving float. Harry observed dark circles around the red eyes, pale skin, dry lips and hair that was no longer burning. The girl crouched between the storage cabinet and one of the knight statues, as if it could protect herself from the wild animals out there.

"Are you okay?"

The girl gasped to the origin of her voice. Instantly her cheeks flushed as if holding back embarrassment. He slowly stood up, shaking off the dust imaginary from his used robe.

"Hm... are you sick?"

He shook his head.

"You're Weasley right? The only Weasley girl. What are you doing alone here? Isn't your brother going to look for you?"

He opened his mouth and closed it back, before saying softly, more like talking to himself, "They won't look for me, I'm just Ginny..."

"Hey, if you have a problem, you'd better discuss it with others. Your brother was a Prefect, 'right?" the girl instantly gripped her book much tighter in her chest, as if it were the last bastion of defense. Harry saw a pale face with misty eyes, like the eyes of a dying person. Her red hair was immersed in a puddle of water on a dark green stone floor that reflected the shadows of red eyes.

As Harry gasped to his senses again, the girl had already turned and ran away. So rushed, it seemed to be chased by a hungry wolf that he almost ran into Hermione who was walking with a serious expression towards him. At first glance her best friend stared worriedly at Ginny before going back on the pace and giving all her attention back to Harry.

The curly girl swears like a boss, "Where have you been? Do you know, we are all looking for you? At crucial times like this, we must not walk alone!" the girl took her hand as if Harry was a prodigal son. "Do you know, I heard the talk of several Slytherins. Apparently this incident is not the first time it has happened. A few tens of years ago, it had even cost lives. No wonder professor McGonagall looked uncomfortable when I asked."

"You are too courageous to ask such a thing in the middle of the class. You know for yourself how much this incident scared many people, even professors."

"And I see you're not even scared to dare to walk around alone!" he said, making Harry's shoulders slump again. "I'm afraid that if this continues to happen, they will catch Hagrid again."

"Hagrid?"

"Uh, you put where your ears are? Yes, Hagrid. Many students said that he was arrested by the ministry for being accused of releasing a giant spider that ended up attacking the student."

"But the giant spider does not petrify the body."

"I know. I think the Ministry just wants to accuse someone of saving their face. Dumbledore would not let him become a Hogwarts gardener if he considered him guilty. So it must be that the culprit is still hanging around today. The question is who and how could it infiltrate Hogwarts."

Harry grimaced. He didn't want to tell him that their enemy was the Basilisk. The person who can let go of the Basilisk is only one, the question is where and who is this time wearing camouflage? "By the way, where did you take me, Hermione? Why are everyone in a swarm?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Great hall, Harry. We have a magic club meeting, do you remember?"

"Uh..." Harry couldn't remember. Maybe those were the times when he got a look at the future.

"At least there is an effort from the professors to make us able to defend ourselves with this duel club."

As they walked down the corridor, Harry looked back at the students who cast their eyes on him. Some seemed afraid, some doubted as if they couldn't determine, and fewer were skeptical. He frowned, not understanding the reason for all those views. Surely, they didn't really believe that it was he who froze mrs. Norris and Colin' right? No matter how bold the two are.

As if able to read Harry's mind, Hermione whispered by his side, "Not everyone believes that you are the Heir, really. Especially most of the senior kids; at least they knew it wasn't a deed that a sophomore kid, even a Surviving Child could do."

"But more believe it."

"You know for yourself logic doesn't run on wizards."

"You're a witch, Hermione."

The girl grieved her shoulders, "Yes, but I'm muggle-born. More than half of my life, I spent as a muggle." The girl nodded towards the crowd whispering, "But don't expect with Ron Weasley's leadership group, they suspect anything wearing green," looking at Harry's expression, the girl dredged, "yes. I know it's pretty ridiculous, especially knowing your character, you can't even kill flies—"

"Hey!"

"—but they don't know you, other than just as an introverted celebrity."

"I guess, I'm not that introvest," he grumbled.

"With Marcus around you? No one knows, right? No one dared to approach. After all, you only have one friend."

"Hey! I have more than one—"

"You said to yourself that Malfoy, Nott and Zabini are colleagues. Slytherin's way, you said," he grinned, as if satisfied to be able to debate Harry. "And don't tell me Marcus is a friend," behind him, Marcus coughed. Hermione rolled an eyeball.

The young man of the last year sneaked behind them, looking sweaty and tired. Harry guessed, he spent his spare time practicing runes as promised. He knows runes are a difficult and complicated piece of magic, only certain people are endowed with the ability to master them. Not even the smart Onemione. Because the factors are not only intelligent, but the magic qualities possessed.

Harry looked puzzled, "What is Marcus indeed?"

Had she been able to, Hermione rolled her eyeballs even harder. But instead of answering, instead he said. "They suspect that you are an Heir because they read the Daily Prophet. Surely you remember about all the articles that discussed at length and in full detail about the origins of your family and Flint, up to several editions, even issued limited editions throughout the summer, right? They know you're a descendant of Merlin, so they also know you're of Slytherin blood from Peverell."

Harry groaned. As he and Marcus went to Gringotts, Harry half-hoped that it wasn't true. Remembering that the Daily Prophet often makes fake news. His finger automatically moved on the invisible ring on his middle finger. Had he rolled the ring's eyes forward, then instantly the ring would have appeared to return.

The ring was no longer decorated with a golden stone with the symbol P, but rather a black opal. The kind of black gem. With a potch that makes the light absorbed and moves into the stone. The light instead of passing through it, instead created a very intense play of colors. Inside the potch full of color play, there is engraved an almost invisible symbol, in the form of a triangle with a circle inside. Something that made Marcus pale as he became familiar with the symbol of the dark lord Grindelwald. Apparently he had stolen the Peverell family symbol for his campaign. Apart from that symbol, there is no other special power from his ring than as a symbol ring.

Harry needed to think of a way so that this symbol would no longer be feared and prove that Grindelwald had stolen his family's symbol. It was enough that Voldemort alone made the damage. If I'm not mistaken, he once read somewhere about the law of misappropriation of the name of the House of Wizarding lords. He needs to find time to go back to doing research.

Why does he wear the Peverell ring? Well, had the Miles Antiquis Protector ritual not happened, perhaps he could still have called himself a Potter. But now it's more than that. The ritual was like a declaration in the ancient law of magic, which led to the revival of the sealed magic of the Peverell family, changing the lord's house of Potter's ring back to its original state and instantly making it known as Peverell by magic, instead of Potter.

Had he gone to Wizengamot, or signed official documents, the name that appeared would not have been Harry Potter, but Hadrian James Peverell. Fortunately he won't be signing anything anytime soon and his seat at Wizengamot won't be renewed until he's 15, the age at which he can achieve his emancipation. Don't ask where the name came from. It appeared out of thin air on the sheets of the ancient manuscript of the family tree. yes, Hadrian, not Harry. The theory is that Harry is just a nickname, while his real name has disappeared along with the death of his parents, without anyone knowing. Maybe they didn't have a chance to tell anyone in the middle of the war.

Marcus says, it's very dangerous; let a wizard not know the name of the magic. A person can easily curse him or he can get reciprocity from a failed ritual. Because many rituals require magic names to complete them.

His mind was distracted as Hermione pulled him at the crowd of first-year children moving towards the hall. "Because I didn't subscribe to the Daily Prophet, I was so late to hear the news! Because of that, too, I decided to do my own research. You should have just asked me, but I think the authentic evidence of Gringotts is important as well. Do you know, you bear the title of Duke?"

"What?"

Hermione squirmed in annoyance, "Peverell, Harry. Just like Prince, departing from an unusual circle. If Merlin is the wizard of king Arthur, Peverell is the noble name that Percival Slytherin used to hide his identity. Do you realize the name has anything in common with one of king Arthur's knight names? You've got blood close to the British empire, Harry. I can imagine Merlin's descendants marrying Percival's descendants."

Harry blinked his eyes and turned to Marcus. Instead of refuting, Marcus instead said, "In the Muggle world, they wear different types of titles such as; Count, Viscount, Baron and more. The title was used based on the position of each person in the royal family tree. But, unlike the wizarding world, where such titles are useless, we only use the titles of lady and lord to refer to each other. What distinguishes it is only the nickname noble, anchient or both, every mention of the name of a noble family.

"But, if one day, the noble families of these two worlds meet each other for an alliance, then a title will be needed to be able to recognize each other. Because the wizarding world did not know the king and queen after the fall of king Arthur, the highest known title is Duke, a position of level below the king. The second title that the prince and crown princess bear. Just like myself bears the title of Count, it means that I am an ally and confidant of the king. It's automatically under duke," he continued. "Before, Potter did not have a Duke-level position, at least before the article came out and announced that you are the last descendant of Peverell and Merlin. Which automatically changes your title to anchient and Noble house, while previously it was only Noble house."

Hermione immediately shrugs his explanation, "So that, they are all at a loss to determine how to treat you. You're a descendant of Merlin, the father of magic, but you're also Peverell—Slytherin, who allows you as an Heir. Your place in Slytherin dormitory is also not helpful at all."

"As long as you know Peverell also has Gryffindor blood!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "They also know. Therefore some believe, others do not..." Hermione shook her hand.

Marcus snorted, "Those who doubt you are definitely not from the upper class—" Hermione cast a sharp gaze, "—or lack of education."

When they came to the great hall. The long tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared in front of one of the walls, illuminated by a thousand candles floating over them. The ceiling is once again already pitch black, reflecting the night sky out there. Every now and then there appear to be shooting stars darting. Most of the students had gathered there, all carrying sticks and seemingly excited.

"Who do you think, who is going to teach us? Some say to me professor Flitwitck was the duel champion when he was young, maybe he'll be the one to teach."

"Anyone, origin isn't it..." Harry started, but ended with a complaint. Gilderoy Lockhart walked to the stage, looking glorious in a purplish dark red robe, and accompanied by, none other than, Severus Snape, who was as usual in a black robe.

Lockhart waved his hand telling the children to be quiet, and blurted out, "Coming closer! Approaching! Can you all see me—" a silly question as he stood in the open. Didn't wait any longer for professor Snape to put on a sour expression. "Well, professor Dumbledore has already given me permission to form this small duel club, in order to train you all, who knows you need to defend yourself as I have on many occasions—and for more details please read my books.

"Allow me to introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Harry didn't finish thinking, what does Dumbledore need to do to convince professor Snape to be willing to be the assistant of these scarecrows. Lockhart continued, "He told me that he also knew a little bit of duels and was willing to help me do a short demonstration before we started—"Oh, Melin's beard. Harry hoped Snape didn't make him end up being corned beef. Had the man known he was facing the most dangerous man after Dumbledore in this entire castle; a person who even the dark lord himself could not enter his head.

The two professors turned to face each other and ducked. Then they raised the sword-like stick in front of them. "As you guys can see, we raised the baton in the accepted combat position. On the third count... one... two... three... The two waved the sticks high over their shoulders. Snape exclaimed, even though he had the ability to cast silently, "Expelliarmus!" a dazzling red light flashed and Lockhart lifted up, flew backwards off the stage and hit the wall, slumped and finally supine on the floor.

The atmosphere fell silent.

Harry subconsciously exclaimed loudly in silence, "Go! Professor Snape!" while jumping up and down. His shouts were greeted by the cheers of the other Slytherin students. Obviously Snape heard it, if a slanted smile full of satisfaction was a sign.

"Boy, you made it!" said Lockhart, limping, taking the stage again. "That was the gun-releasing spell—as you can see, my wand is gone—ah, thank you, miss Brown. Yes, it's a great idea to show them, professor Snape, but if you don't mind, I can say it's obvious what you're going to do. If I want to stop you, it's easy. But I feel that it's good to let the children see it..."

"He wants to be killed," Malfoy whispered. Harry nodded when he saw professor Snape's expression. Wonder why Lockhart can still maintain his smile. Had Harry been under that gaze, he would have run away screaming.

Harry slipped over and pulled Marcus's arm. The young man turned his head down raising an eyebrow. Harry put his forefinger to the lips and pulled the young man slipping through the crowd. As soon as they crossed the threshold, it sounded his name mentioned, but Harry was no longer there.

"What are you planning to do now?" at the same time Marcus saw Dumbledore coming with the vice principal and two others wearing auror robes. It automatically made him unknowingly stand protectively near Harry.

"Marcus, take a look, there will be an interesting show in a while."

The principal opened the door of the hall with a bang that instantly made all the heads turn towards him and Ronald Weasley slid into the wall for failing to avoid the spell that shot towards him.

"Principal?" asked Snape from the stage.

Dumbledore with a gloomy face retreated and let the two aurors advance with a wand pointed towards Gilderoy Lockhart. "Mr. Lockhart, at the power of the Department of Magical Law, you were arrested on charges of theft of copyright, patent rights and illegal use of mind magic." All went on very quickly, as Lockhart, who suddenly turned pale, showed a savage expression and threw curses towards the two aurors while trying to run. The children who were originally clustered near the stage, ran away from the magic spells that floated.

The two Aurors easily parryed the spell, but before one of them prevented Lockhart, the man managed to run to reach the jedela. But before he managed to escape, Snape had already flicked his wand and dexterously knocked the criminal down with a slap rope wrapped around his body.

The man struggled, shouting, "This is not fair. I need justice. This is an arbitrary act!"

"You have the right to defend yourself in court. Although I don't guarantee it, you shouldn't have attacked the law enforcement. If you're innocent what's running for." The man's Auror looked exasperated as he pulled Lockhart's neck collar and dragged him out of the Hall for not being able to apparated inside Hogwarts. If he deliberately dropped Lockhart's self-esteem, who knows, maybe he is one of the men who was irritated by his flamboyant behavior. What is clear is that his good name is now in the mud, even Lavender looked at him in horror. "No," Lockhart's howling voice sounded, even after the door of the hall closed.

The female Auror who was still staying was talking to the principal. "Thank you, professor."

"No, miss Cassandra. If it weren't for the anonymous report, maybe we would never have known if there were scammers working in the midst of children. What would it be like if it continued."

The Auror nodded, "Seeing that he managed to get Lockhart's diary and collected a lot of evidence from the files that have not been changed, it seems that this anonymous is Lockhart's closest person. Maybe there are people who have a grudge against him."

McGonagall sighed, "We shouldn't be surprised, with all his incompetence... now how is albus?"

"Well, for a while, until the end of the semester, let me be the one who replaced the Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

Harry turned and walked away from the hall followed by Marcus. "That's your doing, right?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What did you do, Marcus?"

The young man squinted, "I knew you were doing something with that anonymous."

"Huh. Are you kidding me? I'm just a twelve-year-old child!"

"Only he said," Marcus grumbled as he scrambled Harry's hair fondly. "Want it to feel like splitting and seeing the contents of your head."

"Be careful, Marcus. Your sadistic tendencies are seen again."

As expected, Lockhart's arrest and trial made headlines the next day. Rita once again succeeded in dissecting Lockhart's secrets with her camouflage ability and reported all the evidence to the general public which made everything even more uproar and the legal department shook their heads. Instantly the books belonging to the former professor were grounded. Especially by disappointed mothers. The mass burning was reported in small columns of the Daily Prophet, occurring throughout the country. Even then Harry Potter couldn't stop smiling. The mission was successful.

Unfortunately, his happiness did not last long. The double attacks on Justin and Nick the Near-Breaking Head turned the previous nervousness into a huge panic. All of that is caused because, what can cause ghosts to freeze, must be something very dangerous. The panic made Marcus from over protective to super over protective. The young man wandered around Harry even if he should have concentrated on facing the test. "Exams can be repeated, but death is not. Once you die, you die forever." If only they both knew what the irony of Marcus's statement would be.

But all that doesn't prevent love cupids from wandering alongside Valentine's cards. Cards that are directed to be able to fly towards the target without being prevented. This card immediately sold out like fried peanuts among female students. Valentine's cards didn't stop coming in class to irritate the professors. Harry guessed this was one of the ways the Weasley Twins eased the fear of the students, this was also the reason the professors didn't stop them. But still the look of professor Snape was like saying the first person to ask him to make a love potion would be pestered by poison.

Just as Harry was taking a lesson in Talisman science and Guna-guna, several flying cards chased him. With a very hot face at the thought of him going to be given a Valentine's card by his fans, making him try to escape. But one of his cards caught fire before he had time to dodge, but instead of screaming like Howler, the card sang instead;

"His eyes were as green as fresh pickled toads,

His hair was as black as a blackboard,

I'd love to have it,

He was really amazing,

Defeating heroes

The Dark Lord."

Harry's face was scarlet, especially all the children in his class laughed. In fact, they still yelled at him at lunch. He could see Ginny Weasley was the only child who didn't laugh, instead his face was just as red. Harry could guess where the poem came from.

Apparently, it kind of provided inspiration to his other fans. It didn't take long until there was a rivalry of singing cards that hunted down Harry endlessly.

Marcus scrambled at the door of his classroom, saying, "Do I also need to sing?" Harry jerked his feet and scattered out in annoyance followed by the laughter of his roommate's masculine. But before he could walk far, Marcus had already managed to catch up with him and lift him up in a sling. It's one of the many times he's done that this year, not as much as last year, like Marcus is refraining from doing it often. "I know one way to get that card off."

"How?"

"You know, right, the card only targets people who are still single. You just have to date me," Harry gave her a look. The young man gritted his shoulders, "You just need to be aware that you are no longer single, then the magic will disappear."

"That's it?"

"yes."

Harry pulled his head over, "Okay."

"Good," the young man took her away somewhere, "Now since you're dating me, then it's my obligation to give you valentine's chocolate."

Harry exclaimed cheerfully, unaware that he had already gotten into Sytherin's shrewd trap. After all what it means to pretend when magic has already admitted it.

It's true what Marcus said. As soon as Harry made himself aware that he was already dating someone, the card flew away avoiding him, moving like a boomerang, back at the sender. The girls exclaimed in surprise with scarlet faces at being caught already sending greeting cards. Malfoy and Zabini looked at him strangely, but it made him smile even wider. "The card is gone!"

"You're sober telling everyone you have a girlfriend right?"

Harry twitched his shoulders, "It's just Marcus."

"Only Marcus he said," Zabini patted his face with a desperate gesture, while Malfoy just patted the top of his head while shaking his head.

"What?"

Malfoy stared at the ceiling, "I don't know anymore how long this game ends."

"What the hell~" Harry scowled in annoyance. But his attention was distracted as he watched Marcus enter the common room. He carried a pile of chocolates in his hands and pockets. Made Harry jump up hugging him. Marcus rewarded him with a peck on the cheek. Harry ignored Malfoy's groaning voice and the snap sound at the table. Had Harry not been busy counting the number of chocolates he might have heard Zabini grumble, "Now they're playing pretend something that's not pretending... saying it out loud actually gives me a headache."

Harry's mood dropped again when he saw Hagrid being led out of Hogwarts. History has repeat itself—just as Dobby warned. The threat that never stopped, made the Ministry do everything possible to restore the trust of the people who left their children at Hogwarts. It was as if catching the half-giant human gave a sense of relief and security, even though the original culprit was still wandering around.

Harry knew the dark lord was the culprit, but he didn't know in what form this time. The vision is incomprehensible, this kind of vision is the most frustrating, because it can only be understood when the event has already happened. It was as if there was something big out there that prevented him from manipulating fate.

But at the very least he could jerk it off a bit.

Harry gave Hermione a hand-held mirror, telling her to swear to keep carrying it. The girl looked at him with a thorough look; accustomed to Harry's strangeness, but also did not give up on unraveling his mystery. But the girl nodded, that's the most important thing. So that when professor McGonagall suddenly canceled a quidditch match just to tell her something they thought was much worse; that Hermione had frozen, Harry knew that his mirror had saved him.

Yes, he knows now that all the objects that fell around the previous victims were objects that made them freeze, instead of die. He realized it after the ghost froze. Basically ghosts are not living things so their bodies are substantial in themselves which is as useful as mirrors, cameras or puddles.

His attitude puzzled his friends, because instead of looking anxious, Harry was full of acceptance. He looked at Marcus very intensely when he said, "It's almost time." This made Marcus close his book, bear his sword and go shut himself in the ritual room where he practiced runes. Harry never knew what he was doing there because the young man didn't let him in. It's just that every time Marcus finishes, he is like a person who finishes the marathon race. But it is full of satisfaction and extremely powerful magic static energy.

On the night that another corner of Hogwarts, the Weasley brothers were furious at the loss of their sister. Harry looked up staring out of nowhere. His misty gaze made the students who were paying attention—Slytherin was always paying attention—shuffling uncomfortably and it brought Marcus's attention to him as well. "Harry?"

"It's time," she whispered as she slowly stood up.

Marcus sheathed his sword, along with professor Snape entering the room. "What's the matter?" said Marcus looking at the man's pale face.

The man cast a look at the students gathered in the common room, there were no Junior students but Harry. He seemed to consider something before saying, "Slytherin's heir," his tone was slow and awake, "leaving another message. Just below the first message. His skeleton would lie in the Chamber of Secrets forever."

"Who?" said Gemma Farley.

"Ginerva Weasley."

"But he's pureblood!"

"Even if it is a blood traitor, it shouldn't be that the dark lord attacks the pureblood!"

"NOTHING—"all silent,"—one who can predict whatever is in the mind of the dark lord." Continuing it as if no debate had taken place, Snape said, "You guys will be discharged tomorrow morning. Get ready immediately and call your parents to pick up. Also tell the other students," his last sentence was uttered to Farley who was a Prefect.

Slowly the students dispersed tensely and whispered. Leaving Harry and Marcus with the professor. Snape observed Harry carefully; to his blank gaze, his flat expression and his way of standing that seemed to be beyond reality. Then his eyes fell on excalibur on Marcus's waist. "What's this all about?"

"It's time," Harry whispered.

"What?"

"It's time," Harry stepped past Snape towards the painting.

"Mr. Flint?" he said.

"Professor, it's good for us to follow Harry."

Professor Snape used his keen instinct, choosing to follow the advice he thought was not from a student, but Heir of the Flint family who never messed around. They dropped his steps following Harry; a wobbly stride that led them down the dark hallways and stairs moved, towards the floor where Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was located. "Mr. Flint, should I say that wandering over curfew at a crucial time is not wise."

"If you have to, go ahead prof. But that won't stop it," Marcus nodded at Harry who was walking staggeringly in front of them. The two didn't waste energy talking, knowing it would only bounce off before it could get into Harry's ears. It's worth listening to Harry Potter when he gets this kind of episode.

On the other hand, Harry felt that he was stepping in a time vortex. A vortex that mixes up the past and the future. He sees various alternatives of himself moving in different ways towards the same place. Harry's steps mimicked their rhythm, becoming one with a reality that he could only see. He didn't stop, maybe not even hear it, as Myrtle's shrill voice exclaimed, "What are men doing here?! —" the ghost widened when he saw professor Snape, and screamed into the toilet, spitting out his water to wet the floor. The professor grumbled, "So that's why the antai in this corridor is always wet..."

Harry grabbed the sink, looked at his snake carvings and like all his other selves, hissed with a foreign language that felt familiar to his ears, $Buka...$

There was a sound of Snape's gasp. "Why don't you say Harry Potter is Parselmouth?!"

"He's a Slytherin. You should have guessed it."

"But he is not the heir!"

"He's the heir," Marcus turned his head at the big hole that emerged from the open Sink, "The real heir." The hiss once again made the stairs magically appear.

Harry looked at the other himself, who was wearing Gryfindor clothes, valiantly sliding with Ron Weasley and Gilderoy Lockhart, not at all thinking there was a ladder that could be worn to go down. Does he think a dark lord wants to just slide over a pipe filled with dirt? Harry didn't finish thinking about his other self alternatives. after all, Ron Weasley and Gilderoy Lockhart? What was his bad luck lacking until he had to add two nightmares in a life-and-death mission? Yes, life and death, because he sees also an alternative to himself who dies, himself the Hufflepuff where the Surviving Son is Neville Longbotom.

They descended on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel. The tunnel was large enough to stand in it. Snape stood some distance ahead, his wand lit up while he inspected for danger. "It must be a kilometre below the school," Harry commented which made his two colleagues stare, "What?"

"You're sober?" said Marcus.

Harry shook his head in confusion, "Did I ever get unconscious?"

Snape snorted. "Remember, as soon as there is movement, immediately close your eyes tightly."

But the passage was as quiet as a cemetery, and the shocking sound they first heard was the crackling of a mouse's skull being stepped on. Snape lowered his wand to check the floor and saw it filled with bones of small animals. They were glued to looking at something in front of them. Snape immediately picked up a glass tube from under his robe. "Basilisk skin, useful for many herbs."

"Or sell it to the black market," Marcus said. The two Slytherins didn't seem scared or distracted at the evidence there was a giant snake waiting for them. Harry couldn't imagine the reaction he got from Ron or Lockhart. "We can come back again after we finish this," Marcus said as if it was an easy mission to do.

After two sharp turns, they finally stood in front of a solid wall with a sculpture of two snakes convoluted with each other, their eyes from the huge emerald gleaming with the rays from the stick. Without waiting twice, accompanied by the two most feared people in Slytherin, Harry cast his 'spell'. "$Buka...$" the two snakes broke away. When the wall split open, each section shifted slippery and then vanished and the three of them walked in.

Harry stood at the end of the room very long dimly lit by the gloomy light of the greenery. The floor gleamed like it was covered with puddles of water. On both sides are giant ponds decorated with identical statues of the Basilisk's head. The ceiling vanished in the dark, so that its height was not reached by the eyes. They moved forward cautiously.

In the middle of the room a giant male statue towered so high that Harry had to crane his neck to look up. His impression was antique and he had a beard that could rival Dumbledore's, long until he touched the hem of his stone robe. And between the two unusually large legs, on her slippery stone floor lay Ginny with her red hair loose, drowning in a puddle. His eyes opened and his petals became gray like they were shrouded in mist. The professor ran to him, a stick ready in hand, as if he was on the lookout perhaps there was an enemy behind the statue. Meanwhile Harry stared around him, trying to find the Basilisk.

"He didn't wake up," Snape said with an empty potion bottle in his hand.

"But he didn't die?"

"The conditions are like being manned?"

"He won't wake up," came a low voice. A tall boy with black-brown hair leaned on the closest pillar, watching. The edges of his body blurred strangely, as if Harry looked at him through a misty window.

"Who are you?" said Marcus warningly. They realized that the child was wearing an old uniform like his grandfather's, and it was impossible for any ordinary student to end up in this place.

But the child's attention was not once separated from Harry. "You're Harry Potter."

"How did you know?"

"Ginny often tells me about you. You've got the features he describes," during the speech never once did his eyes leave Harry, his expression like a hungry man. "It's so boring to have to listen to the silly problems of eleven-year-old girls," he continued, "But I was patient. I replied to his writings. I am sympathetic and kind. Ginny became very fond of me, more than her siblings who glorified her or her friends who didn't understand her," the young man laughed shrillly. "No one understands me, Tom," she said, mimicking a girl's voice. "Oh, I love him so much, Tom. The hero of the wizarding world, Harry Potter. The one who successfully defeated the dark lord Voldemort! My hero is a dashing white horse!" he hissed loudly at the end of his sentence, like he had spewed dirt.

"What are you? The diary that was snuffed out?" said Marcus, "But how did you get out here? Are you a ghost?"

"Memory," Snape whispered. "Only the fragmentation of the most dangerous memory alone can appear into the real world like this. Manifesting yourself as if you were looking for life energy," he continued, glancing at Ginny Weasley. "That's right that's what you're doing, right? You're not a human being, nor a ghost. You're nothing. You're just a fragment of someone's memory, someone malicious enough to control the Basilisk, freezing children and kidnappers." The child finally looked in the other direction, but this time it was full of anger. It was as if he didn't accept anyone talking like that about him. As if he didn't accept being blamed, because he considered it all appropriate, just a consequence of the greater good. Snape continued, as if unaware of the gaze, "The question is whose memory belongs to?"

The child smiled.

Harry smiled along, "Tom Marvolo Riddle," he flicked his wand, writing the child's name in the air. Riddle's smile faded as Harry changed his writing to I Am Lord Voldemort.

Snape was wide-eyed for a second before sharpening his wand in a barrage, casting out a deadly spell very quickly. But all those spells just penetrated his body like breaking through the mist. It didn't wait long until the child called the Basilisk. The snake appeared from behind the wall, just behind Harry. The body is so tall that it reaches the tip of the giant statue's head. Although Snape was a reliable wand user, but it was useless under the strength of the Basilisk's skin. And so, Marcus pulled out his sword and while closing his eyes ran over Harry in a sling along with the snake's head darting crashing into the floor where Harry was originally standing.

"veniunt ad me equitem deos!" Marcus exclaimed.

The wind howled around them until Marcus's cloak fluttered. Under his feet a pentagram of blue flames suddenly appeared. When he opened his eyes, the dark color of his retina was now decorated with a mysterious shining silver ring. The color of those eyes reminded Harry of the eyes of one of the twins in his vision while he was in the Castle of the Flint family.

A blue flame suddenly broke out from Marcus's back, burning his shirt, but it didn't seem to hurt him. Until a second later, there was a sound of birds screeching. A black shadow shot from the tattoo on Marcus's back, hovering and appearing in the air with a much more solid shape.

A black shadow shot from the tattoo on Marcus's back, hovering and appearing in the air with a much more solid shape

The bird spreads its shiny black wings. Harry had never seen such a tall bird; with a night-dark plumage and a silver beak that made it look majestic. The blue flames at the end of its long tail swirled like a meteor tail while it shot towards the Basilisk and attacked it. "Black Phoenix," Snape whispered in awe.

The tip of his pointed beak pierced both basilisk's eyes and made him blind. "No!" exclaimed Riddle. $"Kill the child! don't mind the bird! that kid behind you! You can do it."$

Marcus was already standing ready. the basilisk's head began to lower, its body rolling, hitting the pillars as it spun to face it. Harry could see his big bloody eye sockets, seeing his mouth drooling wide, wide enough to swallow it once devoured, fangs as long as Marcus's sword, flat, shiny and poisonous...

Marcus blindly snuffed Excalibur. His swordsmanship and athletic body led them in a horror dance full of rain of blood from the wounds he inflicted. The blood was hot and burned whatever he touched, making Harry screaming covering the face. Marcus cursed. When the Basilisk fell to the floor, Marcus was already on the other side of the room, examining his blistering wound.

The black phoenix slid down and stood on the side of his head to cry over the wound and make him heal. His new skin was reddish and looked sensitive, but Harry didn't feel any more pain. But Harry's eyes didn't return to their original emerald-like colors. Those eyes became as white as the times he had an episode. Slowly his head turned to Marcus, "That book, destroy it," he whispered in Latin. Instantly Marcus thrust his sword into a dark-covered book lying not far from Ginny's hand. "No!" Black ink gushing out from there flooded the floor, along with a long, horrible and sharp piercing cry of pain. Riddle squirmed and twisted, screamed, reached out and then...

He left. Suddenly everything became quiet. Only a heavy exhalation was heard from professor Snape who was standing pale there with a spell burning at the end of his wand. His black hair was sloppy, making him seem to be sick. While Marcus retracted his sword and inspected the ink at the end. The black phoenix flew perched on his shoulder, not looking like he would return wherever he came from.

There was a moan from the other end of the secret room. Ginny moved, and slowly sat up. His bulging eyes moved from the giant figure of the dead Basilisk, towards Harry and Marcus whose robes were soaked in blood, on the diary lying on the floor—Ginny shuddering—then at professor Snape who was walking towards her. The girl sighed deeply and tears began to flood her face. Snape, as trauma had changed his nature or perhaps he was slightly splashed with Basilisk poison, the man hugged Ginny and let the little girl cry in his lap. Ginny didn't care she soiled the most tempramental potion teacher's robe, crying loudly couldn't stop.

"Professor?"

"Dark lord. The book holds fragmentation from the memory of the dark lord," the man whispered.

"I wouldn't have brought the book to Dumbledore if I had been you, professor." It made Snape look up.

"Why?" he didn't seem surprised. Just purely curious, like he had stopped judging Harry on his every action.

"Because of this war, I won't enter anyone's camp."

"War, Potter?"

"War, professor. You know, it's not over yet," Harry stared at the book in his hand. "It's just the beginning. But I can't let the key be held by Dumbledore."

"Why should I obey you?" Marcus became tense behind Harry, ready to do anything to protect him, from even a professor. Of course this did not go unnoticed by Snape, but the man did not seem anxious. "Why should I follow a twelve-year-old child instead of lord light?"

"Because," Harry walked up to Snape. "I will not defend the black or white wizard. My goal is only one, without greater good. I won't sacrifice pawns and I won't sacrifice you. Let them all think this war is only from two sides. Let them not know that there is a third party playing outside the rules."

Snape lowered his gaze slowly. Looked thoughtful. Then with a gesture of his wand, he said, "I swear in a name I never bear, that I will not betray, talk about or write anything about Riddle's book to anyone other than with permission—"

"Hadrian James Peverell," Harry said.

Snape widened, "—Hadrian James Peverell, so mote be!" magic shot back into Snape's body and locked his promise. The man slowly stood up with Ginny who was already asleep exhausted in his arms. "You're not Potter anymore."

"I'm more than Potter, Professor," Harry smiled. "You should have known from the media's reporting."

"But I never expected you to come along to change your name."

Harry shook his head, "Magic did it," he kept the book behind his cloak. "You need to erase Ginny's memory of this book, maybe make her assume she was possessed by the dark lord?" Snape nodded, the plan was already arranged in his head. "Well, let's go back. There is a redhead family that needs to be given good news." This made both Slytherins grin, impatiently looking forward to the most anti-Slytherin family realizing they had a soul debt with three Slytherins at once.

Marcus lifted Harry in a sling again. He let the bird perched on Marcus' shoulders nibble in his hair, while he closed his eyes.

There was a moment of silence as Harry, Marcus, Ginny and professor Snape stood at the door of the Principal's office, covered in dust, mucus and (specifically Harry and Marcus) blood. Then there was a scream.

"Ginny!"

The screams of Mrs. Weasley, who was originally sitting crying in front of the fireplace, were accompanied by the rest of her family. They all jumped up and ran around hugging their family members who were finally found. Professor Dumbledore looked at them—especially Harry and Snape with beaming eyes. Professor McGonagal held his chest with a deep sense of relief.

"Oh, Severus..." the woman said, hugging the potion master. "Thank you, thank you..." she whispered many times, followed by her husband.

Professor McGonagal took the handkerchief to wipe the tears at the end of his eyes. "I'm proud of you, Severus," she said, making the man's cheeks even redder. Then turn to two other children who are also no less chaotic, whoever knows they are participating in the war. The Weasleys thanked Harry and Marcus many times, even Ron hesitantly joined in. Smiled a little at Harry. His expression showed her a sense of loss of family members. Hopefully it makes him a lot more mature.

"Trims, Flint, Harry," George whispered as he hugged them in turn.

"I didn't know you had that thing Flint," the other twins said with a grin, "But considering you're a Merlin knight, no one should doubt you."

"Wow, what's a crow?" said Ron.

"yes, it's a very interesting crow. I never knew there was this kind of breed."

A pleasantly surprised exclamation sounded from Dumbledore. "Oh, as long as you know mr Weasley and mr. Weasley, it's the Black Phoenix!" he clapped his hands enthusiastically, "So I guess he is your familiar, mr. Flint? If I may know, what's his name?" Marcus stared at the bird for a moment, seeming to be involved in a debate. "You can call him Ciarran."

"The appropriate name," praised the principal, seeming to know the meaning of the name taken from the color of the Phoenix's feathers. Then his mood was gloomy again, "So, after we finish this reunion. What exactly happened?" this question was given more to professor Snape.

The man, in his calm and erudite tone explained in detail (slightly edited) about how Harry who was a descendant of Peverell had the ability to talk to snakes and found his way to the secret chamber in search of Ginny after learning the news of the girl's disappearance from professor Snape. Then the three of them decided to look for him there, finding him possessed by the dark lord who ordered the Basilisk to create terror at Hogwarts. Professor Snape explained he couldn't pry any further information because the longer the dark lord's soul possessed Ginny, the more dangerous it became for her and the Basilisk's attack also made things more difficult. Finally, with cooperation, the three of them successfully repelled the dark lord and defeated the Basilisk by stabbing him in the mouth—this made them all wide-eyed.

"So that's right, the dark lord is back," the principal whispered.

Snape nodded, "The signs are already visible from last year. Perhaps this is not the first time he has infiltrated Hogwarts."

"You're right, Severus," the headmaster looked grim. On all of them, he said, "Meet madam Pomfrey. I knew he hadn't slept yet. Tomorrow there will be a big dinner, and also a party to celebrate. Go ahead!"

Mr. Weasley took Ginny out followed by others. Before that, Ron stopped by Harry and said shyly: "Trims, Potter. Forgive my attitude during this time to you. My family and I owe you guys... trims Flint, professor Snape..." Harry patted Ron on the shoulder with a smile, while the other two Slytherins just nodded.

When the three of them walked following the Weasleys a few steps away, they accidentally ran into the lord Malfoy who intended to see the principal. The man looked at Snape and Marcus in surprise, just briefly fending at them and ignoring the Weasleys at all.

At Marcus he said, frowning, "I want you to buy Dobby."

Marcus raised an eyebrow, "Whatever you want," he replied flatly like a true servant.

Harry grinned, "Are you aware that there is now a silver halo adorning the retina of your eye?"

"!"

Dobby hummed happily as he arranged lunch to the table beside the bed where Harry played Exploding Snap with Ron and Hermione. Marcus sat while reading a quidditch magazine not far away. Not long after, Ginny looked over from one of the open curtains of the bed. He seemed to turn his head here and there to check if Madam Pomfrey noticed him coming out of his bed.

"Hi, Ginny," Harry greeted.

He blushed, "Hi, Harry," as if being allowed to call his first name made him very happy. "I want to say thank you. I hadn't had time to say that before," then suddenly he hugged Harry as he said in his neck, Harry's face covered in red hair which made him flash a look for help towards his giggling friend, "You've tried so hard to help me, even to the point of going down to the Chamber of Secrets. You're so brave, Harry. Thank you."

There was a snap sound from the magazine that closed loudly, and then Marcus said, "Excuse me, miss Weasley. It's time for me to give medicine to my lover, please get out of the way, trims." Hermione snorted loudly and threw her face in the other direction with her back trembling, while Ron bit her lip while watching her sister's expression.

Ginny stared with her mouth nga as Marcus deftly lifted Harry in his lap and thrust the potion bottle into his mouth. Harry, who was still bright red, just obeyed Marcus's strategy to save him from his fans. If only Harry knew Marcus's wits.