Courting Destiny

The incandescent green flames swirled at the fireplace before a second later Marcus stepped out. Harry rolled in his arms. Leaned his head and looked sleepy. Marcus's footsteps echoed on the deserted floor. There was only a lobby guard and a waiter at the entrance. It was a little surprising as they just smiled at the sight of Harry in his arms, not looking surprised at all. Maybe because this is Paris, the romantic city they say. Although Marcus never bothered with manners, it felt refreshing to be able to get out of the circle of nobility protocols and become merely human without having to think about what others deemed appropriate. It's no wonder why France became the center of the cultural revolution in Europe, whether in the wizarding world or muggle parts of the world.

He believes that the Delacour family is not as rigid as the average British family. Moreover, they have Veela blood which is a magical creature that is in harmony with the fairies and succubuses. Marcus never imagined that he would stay at the Delacour family mansion. The luggage that has to be transported is not much, especially with magic, they are like not carrying anything. Marcus was still holding Harry knowing the fireplace hated him; no one knows where he will be targeted in an unfamiliar place like this. Marcus didn't want to take the risk. That's how the Delacour family found them as soon as Marcus stepped out of the fireplace.

In addition to the lords Delacour and Gabrielle, the typical shocked expressions were clearly displayed on the faces of the Lady Delacour when they saw them. But the Delacour family did not comment or respond negatively to him. Just staring curiously at Marcus who was slowly putting Harry down to shake the hand of the head of the Delacour family appropriately. Afterwards Marcus introduced Harry Potter to them, just like lord Delacour introduced his family. But what was even more surprising for Fleur Delacour, than the manners that seemed to be thrown out of that window, was when Marcus Flint was completely unaffected by the appeal of his Veela. He didn't even look in her direction for more than a second before refocusing his attention on his father.

Fleur's heart jumped as she imagined having discovered a potential mate. But his smile faded when he saw his father make a kissing gesture over Heir Potter's hand in exchange for a handshake. He frowned before his eyes crossed on the silver bracelet on Heir Potter's wrist.

He frowned before his eyes crossed on the silver bracelet on Heir Potter's wrist

If it weren't for Veela's sensitive magic nature to a romantic thing, maybe he wouldn't have noticed the claimed totem Harry Potter was wearing. He felt the Flint family's magic buzzing there. So apparently their relationship is more than just a knight with his master! Of course it would have been a scandal centuries ago. But with the magic society now being more flexible, the relationship may make the forehead frown, but it's nothing more than that. No wonder his father acted like that! He doesn't behave like facing a lady, but a man who will soon become the consort of the Flint family. Fleur was no longer surprised when they refused to be offered two rooms. Her cheeks were still flushed a few hours later. But looking at the charisma of the two, they did match each other. Even if he was a little disappointed he couldn't expect to be more of a friend to Marcus Flint.

Marcus stepped into the room reserved for them, following Harry's sleepy squeaky pace. Had he not had to maintain manners, he would have grabbed her in a sling; knew full well Potter's fate, he could have fallen and hurt his head. But instead, Marcus just stared at him fiercely. Other people who saw it must have thought he wanted to punch a hole in Harry's head with that look.

Perhaps it was also what made the lord Delacour chuckle, something that made his attention return to the man.

"Thank you, lord Delacour."

"No. I should be the one who thanked you. All this is just a small thing I can do to show it," he gave Harry a white glance with a gentle smile, "I'll leave you guys to rest. Good evening, Heir Marcus, Heir Potter."

"Lord Delacour," Marcus ducked his head slightly as he watched the man step away. A second later a loud yawning sound sounded and Harry blinked his watery eyes like a kitten. Marcus sighed and decided they were cleansing themselves enough with magic tonight, even though it left his skin feeling irritated. With the flick of Harry's cloak wand transformed into a nightgown, so did Marcus with his typical way of sleeping wearing only trousers. Instantly Harry's cheeks flushed and the hue continued to radiate past his ears and neck. Marcus raised an eyebrow, but the boy first infiltrated under the covers.

Marcus smiled obliquely as he lay next to him. Their beds are not as small as in Hogwarts or in Flint Manor, making there is a gap that three people can fill between them. but Marcus infiltrates close and wraps his arms around Harry's waist to pull him docked.

The boy tried to squirm out, but Marcus's muscular arms were not just a display. "Shhh... calm down."

"It's a little far away a little bit."

"I knew you would keep squirming if I didn't hug you."

"Hmp!" Harry grumbled, but finally stopped protesting.

Marcus grabbed Harry's black hair which was now getting longer. The right potion has made her no longer like a bird's nest, instead of soft curls that give her a little cute impression. Puberty gave Harry a big change; such as onions slowly peeling off the skin or ducklings turning into geese. The body of his children began to incarnate and showed the typical structure of a graceful nobility. Of course looking at Lily Potter's beauty or James Potter's classic good looks, it's not surprising.

Now he can't really call him a boy anymore. Especially after realizing Harry's growing interest in him. The silver bracelet tied to Harry's wrist is an ancient relic relating to the matchmaking bond; the magic in it tells if the engagement has hope or one of the parties opposes it. If the conflict occurs, then the bond is canceled. The magic that binds them tells him that attraction, even if it's just physical attraction. Marcus couldn't say he was lucky, considering he cultivated that attraction and made Harry dependent solely on him, not on anything else. He felt the spark of desire touch him like a gentle swipe of a lover right in the center of his magic. Sloppy and timid, like he was setting a foothold. But for Marcus, who had long been aware of his feelings, the touch of magic was like a hammer hitting and at the same time made him aware of all the attractions of his originally hidden fiancée. All of a sudden Harry didn't seem like a child. If previously Marcus's interest was only in his intellectuals and magic, now it's more than that.

"Marcus," the bewitching emerald eyes looked at him worriedly. "I called you many times. What did you think of?"

"Thinking of you." His answer instantly made Harry blush. His eyes followed the red tinge that spread to his ears and neck. Marcus realized from the moment Harry felt the attraction between them, he got that expression every time he teased her.

"Shameless! Why are you talking like that!" he rubbed his hot ears. But Marcus's expression did not change, although in his heart he felt resounding.

"Hm... Are you okay? It wasn't a pleasant sight just now. I regret to make you see it on our first night in Paris."

Harry curled his shoulders, "It wasn't the first time," he said as if a scene full of blood was a daily meal. It's possible that it is, with all his supernatural vision.

Marcus rubbed Harry's cheek gently. "But that doesn't mean you have to look at it. I've promised to protect you," she whispered with a wrinkle on her forehead.

Harry touched his wrinkle while shaking his head. "Marcus is there, that's enough," he leaned his head on Marcus' shoulder. "After all, if we don't come, Gabrielle...."

"Hm..." Marcus couldn't imagine how bad the scene little Harry had ever seen, trapped inside a barred room, with a wounded body and a hungry stomach. Scavenging for the blue sky behind the window, seeing birds flying while he was confined to a dirty room and a picture of the future on his ship. He was never shocked when the dark lord attacked or was on the verge of death. It was as if little Harry had seen all that alone, terrified, while the dark lord's laughter echoed in his head.

Marcus watched Harry begin to change. He no longer clouds as often as he used to, or chattering cheerfully about the future and laughing at his unlucky fate. He hoped that all of that would be a good sign, that he would no longer cover himself in a witty mask. Marcus knew, with Harry's background, he needed to be in control of his life. But he hoped that now Harry would begin to learn to put that little weight on others and allow himself to express what he really felt.

Marcus also changed. Getting to know Harry is like being shown a new horizon. The old Marcus only thought about himself and didn't know what he wanted to do in the future. Becoming a lord is not an option, but something inevitable. Even without a job, the family's money is more than enough to support himself and his children. He chose to stay at Hogwarts for a long time just to play quidditch because the outside world did not seem promising or interesting. Then, Harry came and his world was turning back.

Marcus, who never thought of making himself better, stronger, smarter, was suddenly faced with the responsibility of protecting a Seer. And he welcomed him like a fish welcomed the water. It was as if all this time he was waiting for a destination, and the destination came in a complete package of the boy full of mystery and adventure. Suddenly his soul seemed to be knocked and his ability was tested at the extreme. Had he not met Harry, maybe Marcus had thrown himself into the Avalon magic school and wrestled with the Werewolf or Vampire because of his boredom.

Who would have thought that he would fight with trolls, stab basiliks or even save the children of Veela?

Marcus did not know when he fell asleep, by the time he woke up the light of the sun was already high enough and infiltrated from the sidelines of the heavy curtains that did not completely close the windows. Harry edged in his arms, probably feeling him waking up, but seemed to be still fast asleep. After blinking his eyes and getting his clear head back, he realized, apparently what made him wake up was a house elf standing anxiously with his big round eyes. "Is it time to go down?"

"That's right, Master Flit. Master lord Delacour and the family are already waiting for the Knight Master below to have breakfast."

"Hm... you can tell lord Delacour I'll be down in a few minutes."

The elf ducked low before disappearing with a loud noise.

Harry gasped as he turned his head here and there in confusion.

"House elves," Marcus explained with a soft laugh. "Lord Delacour and family are waiting for us downstairs for breakfast. Come on, house elves must have prepared warm water," Marcus carried Harry like a princess and let the teenager squirm lazily. Marcus didn't want to change that bad habit at all. It had been quite a while that Harry hadn't felt waking up without fear. If possible Marcus would spoil him until he got fed up.

Apparently not only Marcus treated Harry like a local cat. Once the two Delacour girls were able to escape the image of Harry the Surviving Child, Heir Potter and Merlin's Descendants, became just Harry Potter, before finally becoming Harry alone, they realized that the hero of the wizarding world was cute enough to be sucked and hugged. And Harry, who is not used to being spoiled by girls, can only be scarlet and accept his unlucky fate. If it hadn't been for Marcus to save her and put her on her lap, maybe Gabrielle would have attached all her ribbon collection to Potter's curly hair. But that didn't stop them from exclaiming in a writhing squirm. (Well, maybe Marcus could be blamed for not stopping them, and instead stroked the top of Harry's head).

Of course as guests at Delacour's residence, they were not allowed to interfere in the preparation of the party and were left in the common room with snacks and bookshelves full of interesting readings, while others were busy. Only Gabrielle stayed to accompany them. The girl was busy reading children's books beside Harry. She now looked like a pureblood lady as she should have been; with her beautiful dress and gorgeous hairdo, with no injuries or trauma. Every now and then he secretly looked at Harry and Marcus full of amazement like facing an idol. Harry shuddered as he recalled Ginny Weasley's gaze; at least Gabrielle was too small to expect more than just a friendship.

Near the evening, one by one guests came, but Marcus and Harry were not in a hurry to come down. Marcus's eyes did not escape Harry who was busy tidying up his party robes. If others see, they definitely have no doubt about saying that look is possessive. It was as if he didn't accept anyone else seeing the amazing creature in front of him and if it could confine him to the highest tower. But fortunately Marcus still has some common sense, and he knows to lock up a wild creature like a dragon like Harry Potter, which is equivalent to pawning his soul. So Marcus could only swallow the bitter sweetness of reality and just stare at his fiancée with possessive eyes, even though it didn't relax his protective attitude at all.

But who can blame Marcus when faced by the incarnation of the elves in front of him? Flint's family care and affection made him incarnate like a jewel. Her skin, which was originally rough, lacks nutrients, is now so light and beautiful, fluorescent with magic that makes her skin so thin that her blood vessels can be seen easily. Her cheeks were now dotted with hues and her thin lips were like pomegranates. Her Potter's hair turned into charming little curls. Wrapped in a pastel green robe with a shirt and pants that are no longer oversized, it makes it seem to be out of a painting. Magic wafted from his pores surrounding him and touched Marcus mischievously without Harry himself noticing it. If he had behaved like that not only to Marcus, perhaps he had already killed all the wizards who dared to approach his gems.

"Marcus!" Harry scrambled irritably in front of him, "What are you daydreaming about? I'm ready. Let's go down."

Marcus rolled an eyeball. If it weren't Harry, no one would dare to say such a word let alone play orders to him. But what is Marcus's power? He was like dirt on the ground, while Harry was on his moon. Well, even if he felt so, he didn't let his experiments show it. With a bored face, Marcus followed the excited Harry down the stairs leading to the ballroom.

Upon entering the room, the maid called for their arrival as Heirs of the two oldest pureblood families from England. Heads began to turn because of Harry's prestige which was not only The Survival Child, but another title that was now more popular especially among Magical Creatures; Merlin's descendants. As the descendant of the father of magic who has united all the magic creatures on the earth, of course it is not surprising that not a few of them have curiosity.

As a Vampire flashed past him with a wink, only then did Harry realize that their guests were not only wizards, but magical creatures. Seeing Harry's expression, Marcus ducked and whispered to him, "Here those who have prejudice are not invited. It's a private party, with journalists fighting discrimination. So all published photos will maintain the prestige of the Delacour family. You understand now the influence of the Delacour family and the importance of this party?"

Harry nodded. By showing his arrival here, it also means showing he agrees with the Delacour family's positive politics on magical creatures. "This is not the first time you have come?"

"This is the first time I have come to the Delacour family party, but it's not the first time for this kind of party," Marcus grabbed Harry's waist and led him to the middle of the party, "I will introduce you as my lover."

Harry flushed, "Is it necessary?"

"Hm... if you don't want to be hunted down by the Vampires and Veelas," he whispered making Harry follow the direction of Marcus's gaze at the bunch of girls who didn't stop looking at him with lustful eyes and the mothers who were ambitious to match his daughter. "Allow me," she whispered as she pulled Harry's chin and swept her lips across Harry's cheek. As Marcus let go of his chin, Harry's cheeks flushed violently with half-closed eyes. Harry could feel his heart beating wildly. If it weren't for Marcus's arm, maybe he would have been sitting limply. "You're okay?"

"A-I'm okay," then cleared his throat to dispel his hoarseness. In the corner of his eye he saw many people staring full of disappointment. He felt Marcus's chest tremble with laughter, of course the heartbroken girls were just a joke for Marcus.

The ballroom was decorated with pillars full of decorations and a fountain that glowed silvery. Besides the banquet tables full of food, there are also glass glasses full of golden sampange stacked high like a pyramid. The glass doors opened, giving access to the balcony on the right and left side of the room, providing a space of privacy for those who are tired of socializing. Several men gathered around with steaming cigars, no matter what race they were of, occasionally shaking their bodies following Paganini's concert humming La Campanella. He didn't see any concert members anywhere, indicating that the beautiful tone was entirely due to magic. But that didn't stop the couples from dancing in the middle of the party room.

As Marcus pulled her there, Harry gripped her tightly, "I can't—"

"Didn't Mommy teach you."

"I'm not that smart. My legs are all left feet!" she hissed frantically seeing Marcus not stop pulling her into the ballroom.

"Shhh. Relax, just follow me. It's not a Waltz, so we just have to swing," Marcus pulled her docked until their chests were almost attached, putting Harry's hand to his shoulder and lowering his hand to Harry's waist before taking them swinging. Harry's face was scarlet especially when he felt the flash lights of reporters snapping at them. She realizes that she is the only one who dances with men. Perhaps the wizarding society didn't find it taboo, but for Harry, who grew up in the midst of an orthodox British muggle society, all this was a novelty that made him sweat coldly. But soon, many same-sex couples who danced along followed them.

"Look, no need to be anxious," Marcus whispered as he pecked the top of Harry's head. Harry didn't know this was acting or not, his heart wishing there was a slight sense of interest more than just a friend in Marcus to him. Because, if he continues to behave like this, Harry can't imagine the pain when he is heartbroken. Just as the feelings made soared; the higher the more painful the fall.

"Why do you look sad?"

Harry shook his head and leaned his head on Marcus's shoulder. He did not dare to express his feelings. Harry just realized it and suddenly they got into a pretend relationship. He hopes that this is not pretended! Harry closed his eyes and forced himself to enjoy the atmosphere. Who knows when to be able to feel this again?

"Marcus," a familiar voice made the two break free and turn their heads to the sound. Seth Ravnos and Hacan Tremere stepped indifferently towards them, as if unconcerned with the world, not at all hiding his Vampire nature or his teeth, especially with the heavy black robes that covered his shoulders and the classic shirts that made them seem to be out of old school movies. But instead of taking them out of fashion, instead accentuates the dangerous side of misteius. Not once did he see the wizards take a step back while swallowing hard. Well, even if there is no discrimination here, it is a human instinct to avoid danger, especially if your type is used as the main food source.

Marcus didn't seem surprised to see them, but there was a full-length look that made him stand stiff, like he had discovered something unusual in their brief interaction. Marcus's reaction made the two Vampires grin widely, showing their sharp fangs. Harry noticed Hacan's eyes occasionally swept across the room with a lazy whim that made the gesture subtle. Before they could talk, Marcus first cut in, "Balcony?" a code for them to talk privately. Without waiting, they followed the two Vampires towards the still empty balcony.

Hacan closed the french door behind them. Even so, the light of the lamp from the dance floor is more than enough to provide illumination on this dark balcony. Marcus cast a soundproofing spell around them.

Seth pulled the envelope in his shirt pocket before thrusting it at Harry. "An invitation to you guys tonight."

The shield symbol with a sword crossed on the red candle was immediately recognized by Marcus.

"DMS?"

Marcus looked at the two vampires with a look full of speculation, before a second later understanding was clear on his face.

"The British ministry was involved with yesterday's events?"

"Marcus?" whispered Harry.

"Not disappointing, a heir Flint," Seth's smile was full of secrets, before his expression returned to seriousness, "If I can do something, I won't let this happen. But this is beyond my reach. The invitation is also a two-way Potkey."

"What happened?" Harry pulled Marcus's arm.

"Well, what got us into trouble except for yesterday's events. But if it's just an ordinary kidnapping, they shouldn't involve two British aristocratic families, unless this matter has something to do with the British Government."

"Hm..." Seth smiled.

"You guys suspect this is an insider's involvement?"

"Well, I won't justify or blame your speculation. Although it is possible that DMS just wants to say hello to the Surviving Child. It's quite rare to find it in our territory."

Marcus rolled an eyeball, "It seems that you have already given your report about Harry to DMS, huh."

"Well, isn't that your purpose for bringing it over?"

"I was invited to the Delacour family party," Marcus replied with an overly innocent expression.

The Vampire laughed loudly, "Of course. Anyone doesn't know if the Delacour family party is a cover that DMS uses to interact with witches," he walked away, still chuckling, "But no one denies that the party here is interesting enough, especially when he sees Draconis meet Veela."

Hacan grabbed something from his pocket and gave it to Harry. A pendant with a crystal tube shaped like a water droplet with a dark red liquid almost black had it not been exposed to the reflection of the rays, "Vampire blood, Belongs to Seth more precisely. If you carry this, all the magical creatures will know you are under the protection of the Vampire prince," he whispered as he helped Harry put it on.

"Oh, trims..."

Hacan nodded before ducking his head and leaving the two of them on the balcony alone.

"You've guessed this is going to happen," Harry whispered.

"Hm... I didn't have much hope, especially with the closed nature of DMS."

"You use my name as the Surviving Child," Harry grumbled, but more sulking than offended.

"Well, it's not an easy connection to get."

"It's not that you can be casual," he kicked the floor.

Marcus rolled his eyeballs, "Stop acting like you're not excited to see DMS."

Harry grinned, he gently hit Marcus's arm whose expression was still flat, "Don't you understand me very well, Marcus?"

"Damn so," he grumbled as he stepped away from Harry who still didn't stop churning.

They spent the night meeting new people—and certainly magical creatures—to build connections. After a few snaps with the prime ministerial candidate for the newspaper, Harry and Marcus decided to resign knowing their night was not over. They still have to anticipate a meeting with DMS after midnight.

Marcus and Harry chose to wear simple black robes because none of them thought of showing off the richness of their clothes when they met members of the Magical Creatures Council. But that doesn't mean they are dressed as maids. Anyone could see that the simple robe was worth thousands of galeons more than ordinary robes and the Heir rings embedded in their fingers were more than enough to show their unusual status.

Lord Delacour escorted them to a tight-guarded room used for magic travel traffic, the only place the ward was not protected so they could wear potkeys. The journey was like being squeezed and run over, and then put in the straw was as uncomfortable as ever. But Harry didn't protest because he knew how serious the matter was. By no means because they were not involved in the kidnapping, DMS would not blame them, especially if it was true that the British Ministry was involved.

Their feet treaded the marble floor right in front of a giant double-leaved wooden door that opened wide as if welcoming them. The room was dim with red flame torches blazing by magic reflecting shadows from the giant pillars while their steps echoed along the wide room.

"Well, well, well, take a look at this. What are two human children doing in this place?" a feminine voice sounded before the figure of the red-haired woman came out of the shadow. She wears an open dress that is only able to cover the most important parts of her body. Her hips swayed as she stepped, giving her a sensual and confident feel. From a closer distance, Harry could see the dark green scales flashing against the reflection of the torch, showing the characteristics of a Draconis.

Marcus moved in front of Harry, half covering him. The woman smiled obliquely at the obvious protective attitude. Then, his smile faded before sniffing the air. He covered his nose and his eyes fell on Harry's neck, where the crystal containing the vampire prince's blood was located. The woman hissed and exposed her fangs, her expression turned dangerous, "Slave Vampire!"

"Excuse me?!" harry exclaimed offended.

"Ma.. Ma... Don't be so rude with our guests."

The sudden sound that appeared directly behind Harry made him jump away.

"Calm down, calm down," the young man raised his hand with a soothing gesture. The smile didn't fade from his face at all even if there were two sticks thrust out at him. Instead he said to the woman in front of her, "Dear Veronica, aren't you too stupid not to be aware of the Surviving Child standing in front of you?" to Harry he added, "Moreover there is no one with this heavy smell of death except nothing but the wonders of the wizarding world; Harry Potter."

"What makhsud mu?" whispered Harry warily, he realized if the man's face looked too much like the woman not to be twins. But unlike George and Fred, it seems that their relationship is not good at all. He tried not to step back or react as the man stepped closer. He could feel Marcus' magic swirling behind him, ready to attack in case the man did something.

But both of them knew, there was no benefit in attacking Harry, such as there was no benefit in putting up resistance to the man who was just moving closer and responding to Harry's bangs to observe his wounds. The man whispered, "Some say the forbidden curse imprints like the smell of death that can't go away," before suddenly he smiled and straightened his back. "Introduce, my name is Maximilian Meza. You can call me Max, the formalities always make me amused and I lack patience with the full protocol of politics." Ignoring at all his twin brother who cast a hateful look, the man Draconis said in a carefree tone, "Come on, I'll take you to the meeting room."

Harry didn't know where exactly the castle was. But from the breathless cold touching his skin, even with his thick wizard robes, he realized they were on a frozen part of the earth; considering that most parts of Europe are in summer. But looking at the ornaments and style of his castle, Harry could guess he was still in European territory; more precisely the region of Europe that has always been cold. It doesn't have to be a continuous snowy one, but it still freezes. It may be one of the remote Russian mainlands. Yes, if it is true that they are there, it is a very suitable place for the hiding of magical creatures. It's minimal population and it's hard to survive unless you have magic.

They were taken to a large room with high ceilings that were all made of hard and sturdy obsidian stones. Giving a perfect picture to a medieval castle before the creativity of the Renaissance gave a little color to its orthodox style. But what attracted Harry's attention even more was the familiar feeling of this place. He knew, he would return to this place in the future, not just once. It gave him the impression that they were an alliance, even if he couldn't remember his vision clearly.

The room was surrounded by high steps that could be seated if you were having a large meeting with the middle of the spacious stone floor and a stand with a table equal in height as the place where the elders presided over the meeting. The stand was slightly curved following the round, domed shape of the room. Sunlight shines in upon the stone floor of a devil's pit—a hole just above a giant dome like the one found in the tomb of Raphael Santi in Rome; one of the signs of the worship of the sun god that remained before the christians took over the pantheon and made it a church. The time difference gave him proof that they were indeed in the territory he had guessed.

The time difference gave him proof that they were indeed in the territory he had guessed

The elders of the Magical Creatures Council sat on the high place as if they were showing off their position, like a judge indicting. Well, It is possible that this place is indeed used to impose punishment and provide justice. They wore serious expressions, but not as arrogant as most purebloods had they been sitting in the same position as Harry as his magical creatures.

He can easily separate who is a Vampire or who is a werewolf because of the characteristics that are easily indulged. Vampires with their teeth and the ancient tastes of fascism, werewolves with feral grins and muscular massive bodies, Veelas with their mystical beauty and fascination or even Draconis with their scales that appear in certain places; is different from one another.

A charming male Vampire stood up to greet them formally, although his face still did not show any emotion. "Welcome Heir Potter, Heir Marcus. It is an honor to receive Merlin's down child and those who carry his legacy. You can call me Alexander Ravnos, one of the Vampire Purebloods.

"I'm sure you guys can already guess most of the reasons why we called you guys. As an underground organization that is wary of wizard interference, you must know calling you is not a popular choice. But given that this concerns the British Ministry, we have no choice but to involve you guys who have influence in it," the man continued after a gasp, "According to our investigation, the kidnapping was masterminded by Dolores Umbridge—" the glimpse of the woman dressed in all pink and her toad-like face gave a smile full of falsehood. He felt a wave of nausea hit him and he got goosebumps like his spine was electrified. The woman had a nightmare. "—He is the senior secretary of the Prime Minister of Magic and is famous for his activities in fighting for regulation against magical creatures, especially werewolves."

Marcus blinked. She heard the name, her position as senior secretary gave her the right to sit in Wizengamot even though she was not the lady of a respected pureblood family. He didn't feel really important before because his every political move was always cut by Dumbledore. "You guys want us to get rid of that woman?"

"We don't recommend anything. Justice was already upheld with the deaths of those kidnappers. I just want to tell you if the british ministry's policy has attracted our attention for a long time."

That's aggressive passive commentary. Marcus knew very well where the future of the British magical community would be headed if this was allowed. "Let's just say it's on the record."

"Good," his eyes turned to Harry. "Harry Potter," he nodded, "I have something to introduce to you," the man jumped up with a graceful gesture that made his black robe flutter around him, before landing softly as if the graphitation hadn't affected him, a few yards from where Harry was standing. "Of course you can go along," he added at the sight of Marcus' reaction, "Of course no one wants to misunderstand the creation by blocking the Merlin Knight from doing his job, right? But the rest, was Heir Potter's choice to choose to keep the secrets of the universe—," his gaze pierced sharply at Harry's white-flashing eyes for a few seconds,"—or not," finally as he averted.

Harry held Marcus's arm and shook his head. Marcus was about to protest when he saw Harry's serious expression, "Please. This is important."

Marcus nodded, but his shoulders were still stiff and his hands did not escape the handle of Excalibur around his waist. Between his tight teeth, he gritted, "If there is even a little bit of suspicious—"

"I know," Harry threw a soothing smile. "All will be well."

Harry followed the ancient Vampire's footsteps through the door that was closed behind him. The room was dim with tall, clear-glazed windows as the only lighting. But the brighter light in the room did not come from the sunlight that managed to infiltrate from the window. However, a mysterious man who was sitting on a high-backed chair with gold carved on it was his chair. The face is exquisite, like a sculpture or a picture of the artist's shadow coming out of the painting. Her closed eyes showed clearly her dense and long eyelashes. If she is a woman, then she is a very tall woman. But if he is a man, then he is a man with a slender body. Her white hair was left hanging down long, blending into the white robe that hid her body profile.

The Vampire elder lowered his body until he crossed paths with one leg bent. Ducking low pays total respect, "Elder," he whispered as if he was talking about something sacred, instead of mentioning a name. Harry couldn't imagine who the figure capable of making even the Vampire Elder ducked low in front of him. Harry, who could only stand up, wasn't really sure what to do. He didn't know which direction gravity would take him from his behavior in front of the mysterious creature that buzzed the magic.

The moment the figure opened his eyes, he felt a limbling world under him, like he was being carried across the boundary of the world. He saw millions of stars falling one after another and incarnate before they disappeared under the hands of fate. A new world was formed under devastating fire and lava, but from the ravages came the first life. And it was from their eyes that the world was strung together and a mission was given. For centuries, countless centuries, under devastating human bloodshed and politics. They eventually turned their faces on the earthly that alienated them and left the earth to return to the land of eternity.

Harry realized, in front of him stood the last high-elf.

When Harry was again able to blink his eyes, he realized that he only lived the two of them in the room and the floor below was cold even from his bewitched robe, as if the temperature in the room was a different dimension and could not be influenced by magic. Or maybe the coldness is magic itself. He felt his hair gently stroked, while he realized his head was leaning on the elf's lap. The soft humming of the forgotten past echoed quietly in the empty room.

"Elder..."

"Call me Altafindë," a deep male voice told her. "Harry Potter. Paverell last. The boy of destiny, the boy in the prophecy, the chosen one," he whispered as if reading Harry's line of destiny, "The destined child is gone."

"Go?" whispered Harry.

"You have to go to get to know the meaning of going home, Harry Potter... remembering each name has its own destiny and you bear more than one," he rubbed gently on Harry's cheek which was unknowingly wet with tears that didn't know why it flowed. "Your soul knows the call of your destiny, but your heart is not ready yet," the man's silver eyes looked at Harry's emerald eyes, "In time the doubt will go away and you will know what to choose. Your choice will be heavy, but every choice of good and bad will be the destiny of the wizarding world," the man helped Harry up. "At the moment when your heart freezes, remember if Death is a friend."

He led Harry to the doorway. "Now go to your choice of destiny, and make the most of your remaining time," the man pushed her out, making her instantly collide with Marcus who was standing waiting for her to be on the verge of the door. The door was closed behind him, but the elf's words still echoed over and over again in his mind.

"You're out crying," Marcus said stiffly, rubbing gently on his cheek.

Marcus's signature anxious tone made his lips squeeze a smile. He shook his head, "We have nothing else to do here, right?"

"Unless we receive a lunch invitation? No, we have nothing else to do."

"It's almost dawn in Paris," Harry grumbled.

"Then we go home," she whispered.

Harry didn't turn his head anymore, but for some reason he felt the weight of fate following him like a spider web unwilling to let go.

Xxx

Behind the closed door, Altafindë stared with his silver eyes at the two young wizards who walked through the snow from behind the window. The sound of laughter echoing suddenly throughout the room, made him instantly turn around only to find a black figure standing between the shadow and the light, staring at him from behind his hood. The figure vanished a second later in tandem with a strong gust of wind carrying the sharp scent of lily (1). The fading laughter was like giving an appointment of a reunion, and Altafindë knew when the time came, he would greet him with open arms, just like an old friend who couldn't wait to meet after millions of years apart.

The fading laughter was like giving an appointment to a reunion, and Altafindë knew that when the time came, he would greet him with open arms, just like an old friend who can't wait to meet after millions of years apart

(1). Lily is a symbol flower of death.

Xxx

Marcus and Harry returned to Flint Manor with panda eyes and a great desire to down a potion, no matter how painful it felt, in order to eliminate jet-lag. But the luxury had to be postponed until they finished reporting on the lord Flint and engaged in serious talks about politics and Umbridge. No matter how much Harry's desire to listen to flint's second disguised plan destroyed Umbridge's career silently, his eyes were too heavy to keep opening and finally he had to give up tiredness. Her consciousness was lost when she realized Marcus was carrying her in a sling towards their room, before finally enveloping her.

In a dream he couldn't remember, Harry seemed to be being taken dancing among the stars, greeting each other, as if he knew each of their names. The dream is like a lost memory, something whose human brain cannot reach and forget it as soon as it wakes up.

A few days ahead of the new school year, Harry walked down Diagon Alley with Marcus' hand leaning against Harry's back protectively. As long as he stepped up, the spies who followed made him uneasy. They stared, shamelessly. Had there not been Marcus, he would have ended up with one or two bruises from being invaded by hordes of fans who wanted to ask for autographs or shake hands. Marcus's figure looked solid and protective, making anyone think twice about approaching.

This fame is none other than because of the rumors. Even if from his side no one has leaked Harry's adventures in the secret room. But rumors were heard that he had defeated the Basilisk, though he only helped by opening his door. Harry didn't know where the rumors came from, because Slytherin was good at keeping his mouth. But he can guess where it came from... Harry stared at the horde of red hair and Ron who waved goodbye to him. He sighed.

This is quite worrying, because it can provoke Voldemort's drastic actions. Harry could only hope that they had enough time before Voldemort managed to recuperate. But Harry knew his expectations were the opposite of what Lucius Malfoy wanted. Well, if that look signifies something.

The man stood a few steps in front of them, enough to make everyone step aside as if they knew something was going to happen. A few steps in front of his wife and child. Draco, the opposite of his parents, looked uneasy and cast a nervous look at Harry and his father. Perhaps the boy was aware his father was holding a grudge against harry as the cause of the dark lord's power being broken.

But that gaze full of poison was not only directed at him. Harry could feel it in Lucius's sight as he looked at Marcus; either as a result of his political standing or his haircut. Marcus's short-cut hair like an army—an undercut on the back and bangs left long wavy to one side—made him seem agile and dangerous, but also far from the figure of an Heir to the title of the magic nobleman who usually held the long-haired tradition.

"Lord Malfoy. Lady Malfoy. Draco."

"Heir Flint," he glanced at Harry, "Harry Potter..." his lips tilted down. "It seems that once again absurd rumors surround you. I heard a lot of people talk about a 12-year-old child having broken into the secret room and killed the Basilisk."

Harry blinked. He knew very well the reason the man discussed the matter in public was to show that the rumors were false. All that was only because his Slytherin side did not accept the fact that the white wizard hero was a Paselmouth. Well, even if Harry doesn't tout his rumors, that doesn't mean he's a liar. So with a far-fetched innocence, which made Marcus snort, he asked, "Where do you think it makes no sense, sir?" as he pulled your head over.

The man smiled crookedly, "Of course it's because not random people can get into the secret room. Only the real Slytherin successor, can enter there."

"Huh?" Harry stared in confusion, Marcus knew clearly it was just acting. His eyes stared fiercely as if he was reading what Harry was planning. "What's your makhsud?"

"Only the real Slytherin successor can open the room. Because only the original successor understands Parceltouge!"

"It's like this? I know you're a Death Eater, you albino. Next time if you nod, I will bewitch your hair pink."

Everyone around him was bearded and sighed, sickly pale. Lucius looked like he had exhausted Tentacula's poison.

"I have never kept my abilities secret. But I also understand how the magic society in this country views this ability of mine." Then he spoke more to anyone who could hear him, "As you can see, I can Parselmouth as proof I have Slytherin blood in me. But I'm not ashamed or afraid of him, because it's only a small part of the legacy my ancestors gave me. As well as the blood of Merlin or Gryffindor," he hardened his shoulders, "Who knows what other abilities will appear to represent them."

For a few seconds there was silence around them, before the crowd broke out in a commotion.

"Gryffi—"

"Of course, no wonder the Surviving Child—"

"Mr. Potter Mr Potter! Please sign this—"

"Did you really beat the Basilisk, mr. Potter—"

The increasingly urgent crowd drowned out the resentful cries of Lucius Malfoy who was pushed and elbowed to get out of the way by the wizards who had begun to lose their minds. Marcus instantly grabbed Harry in a sling and performed a Travel fire that sent everyone out of the back due to the magic pressure that left a burning smell with a circle of blue flames in the middle of the streets of Diagon Alley. Among the astonished crowd, the reporters of the Daily Prophet were busy taking pictures.

The two Slytherins appeared suddenly on the grassy ground, somewhere empty at Hogwarts. Harry laughed loudly as he hugged Marcus. Marcus' shirt still emitted light smoke and burning smell, but nothing was damaged or hot when touched by the Pheonix fire. The tall young man sighed while grumbling, "We should have done this in the first place. I should know, you always provoke trouble." He shook his head as he led Harry towards the castle that looked in the distance. Unlike apparated, Marcus' new abilities are unobstructed by Ward so he can do Fire Travel anywhere; in the middle of Diagon Alley or even in the center of Hogwarts hall. His abilities are similar to Vampire's Shadow Travel. The ability he got after he got the Black Phoenix as a familiar.

On the other handwritten door of one of the alternative entrances of Hogwarts castle, already standing waiting for them, a familiar figure shrouded in the cloak. If it wasn't the heavy scent of potion wafting from him, then it was that vampire-like black robe that showed the man was Snape's professor. The man looked at them sharply, as if they had already broken a lot of rules just by standing in front of him. "You guys are late," he said shortly before turning around and stepping quickly leaving those busy chasing after him. His long legs carried him easily down the secret passages without paintings. "I couldn't hold Dumbledore any longer before the old man locked the secret room. Fortunately, he has been busy with the Ministry these few weeks, but we don't have much time."

"What happened to make him so busy?"

The potion master gave Harry a white glance before continuing his pace, "Well, who knows what he did. If it matters, it will definitely be in the Daily Prophert."

"Hm... you're in a magic agreement?" said Marcus, who had a keen intuition.

"What are you talking about, I don't understand," but the man's expression showed something else at all. Marcus interrupted, as if promising to investigate it himself. Harry blinked and pulled his head over, innocently saying, "It has something to do with Sirius Black?"

The two men froze at this time.

"You know?" asked Snape cautiously.

Harry twitched his shoulders, "If he escaped from Azkaban, huh? I knew for a long time. But I don't know exactly when."

Marcus realized Harry had absolutely no intention of covering up his abilities in front of himself and Professor Snape.

"So you know what he's planning?"

"I don't know what he planned. I just know what it's going to do. But, hey. It is no more dangerous than those who change form during the full moon."

The man gasped with a sickly pale face, making Marcus float a questioning look with a vigilant attitude. "Ah, Dumbledore hired Remus Lupin as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"He's a werewolf, huh?" muttered Marcus.

"Remus Lupin?"

"You know what?"

"If they're my parents' best friends, or mr. Black who is my babtis father? I know, after all, their names are mentioned in my parents' will."

"But you seem... don't care..."

"I don't know them professors," Harry said, stress clearly audible in his voice. "And they had no intention of knowing me. What should I expect in a man who considers himself a monster to bother looking at his best friend's child or another man who drowns himself in regret and sorrow to allow himself—who is notably the lord of the Black family—to be locked up in Azkaban, while he can prove his innocence!"

"Black innocent?! So who—"

Harry shook off his hand, "It's not important," he let out a complaining voice, "Even then I don't want to deal with him. The mentality is unstable, professor! He would be my weakness on Dumbledore and he would only see James Potter while staring at me! It's not that I protest that my face is similar to my father's, but that others who know me will see farther than just his son James Potter, but he is absolutely not!"

Professor Snape blinked, "That's right. Even I doubt there's Potter blood in you," he commented in a dry tone to which Harry replied by rolling his eyeballs. Even so, he could see the satisfaction clearly in the man's eyes. "So you have no intention of releasing him at all?"

"You see for yourself, he can free himself. The future will be further complicated by his involvement. He will not accept my political views. He believed in Dumbledore too much, even when he knew Dumbledore hadn't saved him!" he jerked his feet irritated at the typical Gryffindor folly of his godfather. Harry's other self probably loved Sirius Black as his only asylum so he could escape Dusley. Will slowly love him as the only person he can call a family. That self knew nothing about his family history or what magic society was like, and judged magic without him noticing.

But Harry now knows, what the magic society needs is balance. And a deaf and racist on magic, will not be able to stand side by side with him in the future. Moreover, the future looks blurred and unclear every time he intersects with the name Sirius Black. That alone was enough to sound alaram on him.

"What are you planning on that Basiliks carcass, mr. Potter?"

"Hm? Oh, I need the fangs, the rest you can have, professor." A few seconds of silence, before professor Snape suddenly stopped as if just digesting his remarks.

"You said what?" his tone was cautious and calculating, as if talking to a mentally ill person.

Harry blinked, replying to her in the same tone, "You can have it?" Marcus couldn't judge whether it was intentional to make fun of the professor or not, because it wasn't unusual anymore for Harry Potter to act crazy.

"Do you know the price of an inch of Basiliks fin, let alone its intact carcass, mr. Potter?"

"Of course, professor. But I'm not doing business on the black market, not anytime soon. And it's not my area to understand the price of Basiliks like an expert in potions. I know you can harness its potential more than anyone else, considering you're the youngest Potion Master in history and so on. So I gave it to you."

The man took a short breath, "You know I can sell it illegally, mr. Potter. Am I wrong to have judged you as a real Slytherin? give up such a big profit for nothing!"

"Well, I gave it to you, so that's your right, what do you want, professor. But I consider gaining trust and maintaining a relationship with you to be more important than the price of a basiliks. I don't know what contribution you will make to the magic community with the carcass of a professor basilikox. After all, you also need to improve the quality of life like a lord Prince," the last sentence sounded very bold, mainly because of the expression that professor Snape showed. But the stubborn Harry didn't back down, "Even if you don't take the right as a lord, it doesn't mean you deserve to live like just a Potions teacher. I know you more than that. So stop protesting!"

Snape blinked his eyes, instantly the storm in his eyes disappeared and turned back to being expressionless, "Well. My Slytherin soul will not refuse the golden opportunity in sight. I'm going to make the most of every inch of it and live as much as you want," he said flatly as he turned and strode quickly.

Harry rolled an eyeball, hearing the way professor Snape thanked him. The man is anti-nonsense, he thanked him by doing something. Harry smiled softly at the stiff puggung of the man who endured regret and sorrow, but never stopped struggling. Unlike Sirius Black.

Unlike most animals, basiliks' carcass is not damaged due to the magic contained in its body. It does not smell or change its material. Just lay on a floor full of puddles like the last time they left it. Dobby and several elves belonging to the Flint family helped them separate each inch of Basiliks' body carefully according to the instructions of professor Snape. The work takes a long time not because it is done slowly, but because every inch of it is important and valuable. When they finished, their robes were damp and exuded a strong smell of blood. Professor snape gave harry a broken canine in a wooden box wrapped in protective magic.

But before letting them go, the man said to Marcus, "I know you got the semester's grades yesterday, mr. Flint. And I know if you deliberately make yourself not pass," the man stared intently, "I can't let that continue to happen, especially since the principal urged me to approve his decision to give an ultimatum if you don't graduate again this year."

"You're going to D.O me?"

"I hope not. But if you fail the exam this time, I can't do anything about it." Seeing Marcus's expression, the man added, "I know the reason you decided to stay longer at Hogwarts. But I can't let you stay longer as a student—" the sentence made Marcus raise an eyebrow, "—so, if you pass this time, I will give you a recommendation to become an apprentice professor of Bathsheda Babbling to get a Master's degree."

Harry exclaimed happily. But restrained himself from surging around. "Really? Professor Babbling agreed?" exclaimed Harry.

"Let's just say that de facto he has agreed."

"Isn't that amazing, Marcus! You don't have to leave as soon as you graduate!" Harry jumped up in his arms.

"Hm," Marcus nodded. at the professor he said, "I see, professor."

"Good."

Harry thought they were going straight home. But once Marcus took the corridor in the wrong direction, he knew if the young man was taking him towards the underground. He didn't understand what they were going to do in the empty dormitory, but just followed him without comment. As Marcus stepped towards the unfamiliar passage of the dormitory, he knew there was something he wanted to show. "Where are we going, Marcus?"

"Hm... if I have to leave the dorm, before that you have to know this first," she said, pushing her door open. The room had the impression of being like a common room, but his hidden place told him if it was a private room. The fireplace suddenly lit up as they came in and unlike other places, no painting could lurk. There was only one painting there that showed the forbidden forest, and up close he realized that it was more real than ordinary paintings. "It shows what's going on in the forbidden forest," Marcus explained as he sat down on one of the couches surrounding the fireplace.

"What is this place, Marcus?"

"Knights Walpurgis," Marcus replied.

"Knight Walpurgis..." Harry whispered cautiously, "Isn't that the name of the group that ended up being known as the Death Eaters... the army that belongs to Voldemort?"

"That's right. In the records of the name Tom Marvolo Riddle founded this group before he changed his name to Voldemort. No one knew that except the first generation of Knights Walpurgis, in fact I didn't know it before the events regarding that Diary. But I had expected that the dark lord recruited his members through this secret sorority. Knight Walpurgis, like Fremason, has members from important circles who are able to infiltrate any organization," marcus explained. "Even if the dark lord has been taken down, most of its members are still loyal to him to this day."

Harry widened his eyes, "What are you planning to do?"

"Once I graduate I want you to take over his throne."

Harry gasped. Just realized that all this time Marcus held power as king in Slytherin.

"I want you to **** the Slytherin alliance from the dark lord and slowly gain the support of the black wizard family. I knew your actions just now in Diagon Alley would shake all the pureblood families of dark lords' supporters. They know you are not only the owner of Slytherin blood, but also the proper heir to the parselmouth blessings you showed. The rest just need to drop the mask from your magic. Let them know, you're not as white as they imagined."

"I'm going to create interhouse politics. I will make no discrimination in any dormitory. Dumbledore can't stop me when the four dormitories come together."

"Show Slytherin that cunning does not mean cruel, and self-esteem does not mean looking down on others. And show Dumbledore that Merlin is a Slytherin. Magic is not wrong, magic is not right, magic is not demanding, magic is not judgmental. Show him what it's like to be a magic lord."

Harry could feel in the whirring of his blood and the magic that touched him, that Hogwarts was listening to them.