Serpent's Bloodline: Legacy of the Basilisk

Potter left Hogwarts.

Potter left Hogwarts.

Potter LEFT Hogwarts - without being stopped, without being guarded and definitely without any problems!

If Mad Eye had not been in Diagon Alley today, if Mad Eye hadn't had his magical eye - he would have never seen Potter going through the alley as if it was normal for a student to visit Diagon Alley on a weekend in the beginning of November!

What was Potter doing in Diagon Alley?!

Mad Eye did the only reasonable thing to do in his mind: he followed the boy - a boy who might not be a boy.

"Am I truly right? Is he an imposer?" Mad Eye thought again. It would explain how Potter had been able to leave school grounds and find his way to Diagon Alley. If he was an imposer he surly was able to apparate!

Mad Eye just had to confirm and prove it!

There was just one problem with his plan: Potter headed into Gringotts.

Mad Eye followed - just to see Potter open a side-door and enter the hallway behind it.

For a moment Mad Eye started to follow, then his brain caught up with him and he stopped.

No one entered the hallways behind any doors of Gringotts but the goblins or wizards with goblin guards. There was no way Mad Eye would be able to do so… at least not without being bodily harmed and maybe killed…

But Potter…

Mad Eye stared at the door Potter had closed behind himself as if it was a dragon. He just stood there and stared, stared and waited for Potter to be thrown out - hurt, tortured and maybe dead.

A minute went by, another, five, ten more…

Nothing happened.

Why?!

Mad Eye knew…

Mad Eye had seen what happened if a wizard disregarded the treaty with the goblins. He knew what happened if you entered their realm without a proper escort! He had seen it - and it hadn't been pretty at all…

And the goblins would never be unaware of a trespasser like that! They lived and breathed the same motto as Moody: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!

"May I help you, sir?" Mad Eye blinked and looked down to his knees where a goblin in full armor was standing, eyeing him warily.

Mad Eye had been so fixated at the door that he had even forgotten his own life motto of CONSTANT VIGILANCE!

"Er… a boy entered in that door… without a guard… a couple of minutes ago…" Mad Eye finally said, much too stunned to think over his words before answering.

It was as if his whole world had ceased to exist like he knew it - and it was further crashed when the goblin in front of him answered with a snarl.

"The ' boy' as you call him, wizard, is a highly respected clan-leader. If you ever disrespect him like that again I will cut out your tongue before I bare you entrance to Gringotts! It is his every right to enter over there if he so wishes. And now leave. We don't need wizards prying in our business!"

Mad Eye gawked at the goblin.

Then he did the only thing he could do: he left Gringotts and decided to wait outside and trail the boy again.

"At least now I am sure that this truly is an imposer!" Mad Eye snarled to himself. "There is no way that the Potter boy is able to get enough respect from the goblins to be recognized as a well-respected clan-leader… !"

Magnus Adam Selwyn was an experienced barrister. He was working for Fawley&Flint&Selwyn and had seen a lot in his fifty-one years of life, except that he had never ever seen - he hadn't even dreamt about - something as unusual as he had been facing for month now, in his whole life.

Adam Selwyn - he hated the name 'Magnus' with passion - was the first barrister ever of a goblin clan-leader. Well, a human looking clan-leader of the goblin nation, but that made it even more special than it was already - simply because there shouldn't be a human looking goblin clan-leader. The goblins never got along with wizards; Adam had no idea how those special circumstances came into being, that ended with a human looking goblin clan-leader - and Adam wasn't truly sure if he wanted to know.

It was enough for him to know that he was working for the only human looking goblin clan-leader in the world.

And he had the biggest coup going that he was able to imagine - not that he had imagined that when he was called to Gringotts the first time, about three months ago.

At that time, the circumstances around his new, potential client, had been a first for him as well.

He had been contacted by a goblin - just to be led to one of the hidden bureaus of Gringotts that normally were only accessed by a few, carefully picked wizards, mostly lords or high ranking officials. Adam was neither so he had never expected to ever see those halls.

Adam did not know what to expect from this meeting.

Well, the goblin that had contacted him had clearly stated he was doing so for his client and not for himself - but Adam had never heard about a wizard using a goblin to contact a lawyer before…

In that moment his guide stopped in front of a richly carved double-door and opened it.

"The lawyer, Nardog," he said.

"Let him in," was the answer and a second later Adam was all but shoved in the room behind the doors.

The doors closed behind his back like the entrance to a tomb.

Adam frowned.

What now?!

"Sit, Mr. Selwyn," the goblin said and shoved a money bag in Adam's direction. "For today."

Adam nodded.

He knew that when he was paid for today that even if he did not accept the final offer, he would be unable to speak about it - as for today, the goblin in front of him was his client.

"So tell me, Master Goblin, how may I be of service?" he asked, taking the money.

"We'll see," the goblin answered, eyeing him critically.

"First I need to know some things - and then I will decline or accept you."

Adam nodded.

"That's nothing new," he answered.

"I thought as much," the goblin said. "So, tell me, Mr. Selwyn, are you a follower of Albus Dumbledore?"

Adam blinked in surprise.

Normally he was asked if he was a Death Eater or other things - but that?!

He hesitated for a moment.

He did not like Dumbledore very much. He had been a Slytherin in Hogwarts and the old man had never seemed to be really fair - and of course the other Slytherins hated him with passion…

"I… no," he finally said, sitting straight. "I do not follow his agenda. I have too many friends on the other side."

He knew that this would be the end of this job - there was no way he would be granted another chance. And the reason was simple: everybody knew the goblins would more likely follow Dumbledore than Voldemort when they had to choose sides.

"So you are a follower of the Dark Lord?" the goblin asked.

Adam shook his head.

"No," he answered sincerely. "I have too much family on the Light side - and I don't like his ideals."

One moment the room was silence.

Then the goblin grinned a devilish grin.

"Good," he said. "I will bring you my clan-leader. He will discuss with you what he wants you to do."

Adam blinked.

Good?!

Clan-leader?!

Adam knew that 'clan-leader' was the term for the goblin Head of House and also Lord of House. They were exclusive individuals, never seen in the halls of Gringotts. Adam also knew that clan-leaders were all very old. You could not become a clan-leader if you were not at least a hundred years of age.

"Your clan-leader, Master Goblin?" he finally asked.

"Yes, human," the goblin answered. "He was the one asking for one of you. Be not disrespectful to him, human. It will cost you greatly if you are."

Adam just nodded. Then he followed the goblin even deeper into the halls of Gringotts. The decoration got even more pronounced, speaking of wealth and power. The tapestries showing the battles and wars of the goblin nation. It was intimidating.

Finally they stopped. Adam blinked. They stood in front of a tapestry, not in front of one of the richly ornamented doors that he could see in the distance. The goblin simply pulled the tapestry of a very bloody battle aside - Adam guessed from what he remembered that it was a tapestry showing the Great Battle of the North Fields - and exposed a hidden door behind it. He opened the door.

"Step in and wait here," the goblin said. "The clan-leader will soon be there. Just remember: he is one of our most honoured leaders - step out of line and it will be the last thing you ever do." And with that the goblin left the room, leaving behind an astonished and slightly frightened barrister.

Adam gulped, then he tried to calm his nerves by taking the time to look at the room itself.

The furniture and the walls spoke of money. The furniture was old and hand-crafted; the walls carved marble and behind the still unoccupied desk hung a crest.

The crest showed a serpent winding itself around a lily. The crest itself was green, the serpent silver, and the lily white.

It was a simple crest, but Adam had never seen it before…

"Do you like my crest?" a warm, low voice suddenly asked. The voice was young, yet marred with a slightly foreign lilt to it, as if the speaker had half-forgotten how to speak English. It wasn't the accent of a foreigner but of a very old being who had lived through different stages of the English language.

Adam turned on his heel and stared at the person who had just entered the room.

The person closed the door.

The first thing Adam registered was that the person in front of him was human. The second that the human had come alone - the goblin had not come back even if normally no goblin would let a human wander alone in their halls.

"Where is your guide?!" Adam asked just to clap his mouth shut in the next moment. This man could be his client! That was not an introduction he would like to make to a new client! Where, by Merlin and Morgana, had gone his Slytherin side, now that he needed it desperately?

The man chuckled.

"I am a clan-leader," he answered warmly. "As I am part of the goblin-nation I don't need a guide."

"But… but you are human!" Adam wished he would stop channeling a Gryffindor and voice his thoughts with a filter…

"Not really," the man answered, scrutinizing him. "But I would be called a wizard today."

Adam just stared at him.

The man - a young man, more a boy then a man - had shoulder-length black hair; some part of it braided back with Slytherin-green ribbons like the lords of old had worn. The robes he wore were also cut in an older style. They were green with a black tunic and black trousers beneath. Black leather-boots and a silver belt, looking as if it was made of silver leaves added the final touch to his appearance.

Then Adam remembered the fact that clan-leaders had to be at least a hundred of age. The boy in front of him didn't look like it, but looks could be deceiving and the boy's accent spoke of times long past.

Finally Adam decided to drop into a belated bow, introducing himself.

"I am Magnus Adam Selwyn, barrister of Fawley&Flint&Selwyn. Forgive me if I offended you in any form, my Lord," he wasn't sure if the apology would be accepted, but it was the least he could do after his Gryffindor reaction just seconds ago.

The answer was a soft chuckle.

"You are forgiven, child," he said. "Unlike what most of my fellow clan-leaders think, I'm not interested in killing everyone who offends me."

Adam released a slow, relieved breath.

"Stand up, child, and then sit down," the clan-leader said and Adam did as he was told. The clan-leader made his way to his desk and leaned against it. That action brought him in close proximity to Adam who sat in front of the desk on a visitor's chair.

"If I may ask, who are you?" Adam finally asked, when the silence started to feel awkward.

The young looking man smiled and bowed slightly.

"Morganaadth, at your service" he said.

"Morganaadth?" Adam was not sure if the name was a first or a last name. The other smiled again.

"My goblin name," he answered smiling.

Adam blinked at that. He knew for a fact, that there shouldn't be any human looking clan-leaders - and definitely none that had a goblin name.

"My Lord, may I ask how -"

"How it is possible for me to exist if there isn't any records of me in the Ministry?" the other man asked with a raised eyebrow.

Adam inclined his head hesitatingly.

The answer was a soft smile.

"Circumstances," he said. "Let's just say that I predate the Ministry."

Adam's eyes widened at that. He knew for a fact, that the Ministry of Magic replaced the Wizards' Council in 1707, which meant that the human looking man in front of him had to be at least three hundred years old.

He gulped.

"May… may I ask with what I can assist you, my lord?" he finally managed to say. The clan-leader in front of him, looked at him amused - at least until Adam managed to ask his question.

"With several things, my dear Mr. Selwyn" the young looking lord answered. "I do plan to return to the place that is rightfully mine in the magical world, but there are some… obstacles I have to take care of before I make my first move."

The deathly green eyes of the clan-leader in front of him pierced him with a cold and determined stare. Adam felt a cold shiver running down his spine.

This boy-looking being was no-one you should cross…

"Can you explain further?" he finally asked the young looking Lord.

"Of course" Morganaadth inclined his head. Then he sat down behind the desk and took out a folder full of paper.

"You could say that, thanks to who I am, I have certain rights… to an important individual of the magical community."

"I… don't think I understand," Adam replied.

The man in front of him smiled. Then he pulled of the family ring he wore and turned it so that Adam could see the crest.

Adam's breathing hitched.

He knew that crest.

It was the Potter family crest.

Adam's eyes snapped up to look at the man in front of him.

"How -"

"Like I said, circumstances," the clan-leader replied. "Let's just say that I have always had the right to wear it."

"But… Harry Potter -"

"Is one of the reasons why you are here," the man replied. "Since you are a barrister, I don't think that I have to tell you what should have been done years ago when James and Lily Potter died."

Adam understood instantly.

Since the clan-leader in front of him had the lordship ring of the Potters, the heir of Potter should have been given to him for caretaking. The lord of the house always took precedence to everyone else. That it hadn't happened, could mean only one thing: Harry Potter had been placed illegally with whoever he was living with at the moment.

"The guardianship -" Adam started to say.

"Stolen by Albus Dumbledore," the clan-leader answered grimly. "Given, I was out of touch with the British magical world for about six years after 1979, but I should have been contacted when James and Lily Potter died and I should have had a say in where my… heir would live."

Adam could not fault the man his ire. He would have felt the same if it had been his heir who was kidnapped - and it had been a kidnapping, whatever the Ministry and Albus Dumbledore would say. Adam knew that the Lords of the Wizengamot would see it like that as well, if it ever was brought to their attention.

"Why did you wait that long to come to me?" Adam finally asked. "Even if you have not been in touch with the British magical world until Harry Potter was five, you should have -"

"There was a ward set up that prevented the asking of questions about where, and in what circumstances, the boy lived. The ward fell just a few days ago. Since then I have done everything I could to find out what happened to the heir of Potter."

Adam frowned at that. He knew of wards that could do things like that - but he also knew that those wards were illegal as long as the individual they were attached to didn't know of them. There was just the question of if the boy knew…

But that still didn't change the fact that the boy had been taken from his rightful guardian and then placed who-knows-where.

"Is there anything else I should know?" Adam asked.

Morganaadth took the folder on his desk and gave it to Adam.

"These are the withdrawing of Harry Potter's vault while he lived with his Muggle-relatives and while he was at school. In there are also the account statements that tell you what was done with the money that had been withdrawn," the young looking man handed over the file and Adam leafed through it.

"As you can see, Harry's parents financed part of the war against Voldemort. The money should have been stopped being used like this after their death, but it wasn't" Morganaadth said.

Adam frowned. The accounts clearly stated, that Albus Dumbledore had continued to use the Potter's money to help with the aftermath of the war. Instead of leaving the rest of the meager amount of money for the child's care and schooling, he had used the money and forgotten to think about the child that had to live from it.

The money the child's caretaker had been given had not even been enough to provide for the basic needs of the child. They had just been able to finance the young boy's schooling from it.

"As you can see, his misuse of Harry's money made him a burden for his caretakers. As far as I have found out so far, they resented him for it," the clan-leader declared. "The will of his parents clearly states that any and all money that is left after their death should solely be used for the caretaking of Harry and for his inheritance."

Adam opened the next page of the file which showed the will of the parents.

"I wish to press charges against Albus Dumbledore for neglecting the will of Lily and James Potter and stealing Harry Potter's money," Morganaadth said coolly. "I also wish to press charges for the kidnapping of an heir, neglecting said heir and misuse of power to 'legally' gain access to said heir."

"I understand," Adam answered.

"Finally, I also want to press charges against every one that used Harry Potter's name without my explicit permission," Morganaadth continued and handed him another folder. "In there are all the firms, authors and products that have the Potter's heir's name without asking me. I am not really interested in the money but I do not like it that they use Harry Potter's name without permission."

Adam took the folder also.

"I guess you will also press charges against the Daily Prophet," he said. The young lord smiled.

"Something like that," he answered and then continued to fill Adam in.

Now, about three months later, Adam met Morganaadth again in the depth of Gringotts. This time, the boy-looking man was already there when Adam was brought into the room.

Adam bowed; the clan-leader inclined his head, and then gestured to the seat in front of his desk.

Adam sat.

"I have some news for you, my lord," he told the Potter Lord instantly. "The Daily Prophet is now operating under a new guideline."

"So we finally have had enough shareholders to overthrow the Ministry control?" Morganaadth asked.

Adam just snorted.

"More than enough," he said. "With the backing of the Longbottom and Flamel families and the Malfoys the Ministry had no chance to continue with its drivel. You already had twenty-two percent of the stockings under the names of Potter, Grim, Evans, Peverell and Emrys, with the backing of the five percent of Flamel, and the three Percent of Longbottom you would have had a draw with the ministry. Adding to the fact that now the Malfoys five percent and the Malfoire's twenty percent are backing you, the ministry has had no chance at all."

The answer was a satisfied smirk.

"So the Daily Prophet with finally stop printing gossip," Morganaadth said satisfied. Adam inclined his head.

"I just wonder how you got the Malfoires and Malfoys to cooperate," he said. The answer was a smile.

"The Malfoires would have always cooperated," Morganaadth said. "Their shares just had to wait until I was able to purchase Grim, Evans, Peverell and Emrys."

Adam had the dawning impression that Morganaadth hadn't told him everything when he took the job. He sighed.

"You were a Slytherin when you went to Hogwarts, weren't you?" he asked exasperated.

The answer was a laugh.

"Actually, I was sorted into Gryffindor," Morganaadth replied and Adam groaned.

"Oliver Twist was right," he moaned. "There were Slytherins in Gryffindor all along…"

The answer was a laugh.

"Just protect my interest and I won't out-Slytherin your Slytherin mind," Morganaadth promised.

"And that comes from a Gryffindor," Adam retorted without heat; then he sobered up. "Fudge tried to intimidate The Quibbler . He threatened Xenophilius Lovegood with Azkaban if he didn't stop printing Twist and didn't tell him who Twist is."

The answer was a grim smile.

"It seems that Fudge prefers to work into my hands," Morganaadth said. "The moment he makes a move against The Quibbler, confront him and tell him we will sue him if he doesn't keep his nose out of a private business. James Potter, Xeno Lovegood and Salvatio Malfoire were the first and only shareholders of The Quibbler. The families didn't change, even if James Potter is dead now. I'm sure that Fudge won't like what hits him if he tries to cross those families."

Adam's eyebrow shot up when he heard that.

He had known of the Potter and Lovegood holdings of The Quibbler - but he hadn't been able to find out the third.

"Malfoire?" he asked.

The answer was a predatory smile.

"My name," was Morganaadth's reply and Adam shivered. He didn't envy Fudge who had managed to enrage that individual in front of him.

Morganaadth's eyes said it all.

You do not cross Morganaadth - and if Morganaadth's original name was Salvatio Malfoire, than you would do your damn best to stay away from him as well.

Fudge would not know what hit him when Morganaadth was finally ready to strike.

The room Severus Snape was brought to by the goblin was simple. There were some leather chairs and a desk out of dark wood. The room had no windows and the walls were covered by the same dark wood the desk was made of.

The floor was made of stone and candles were the only light in the room.

He shuddered. He still couldn't believe that he had taken the chance and activated the letter that had been send to him by the unknown head of house - or at least at that time unknown head of house.

The room was darkly lit and a young man was waiting for him. Said man leaned against the desk, his arms crossed, clearly waiting for him.

When Severus landed with his portkey, there had been an odd silence in the room - somehow disconcerting.

Severus had spent all day until then stalking the halls and making Gryffindor miserable. He had taken far more points from Gryffindor than they had lost over the last two month from all the teachers combined - just to come here and stare into a face that, for a moment, looked like Potter's.

Then reality set in and he could see the differences that he hadn't seen a second before. The stranger in front of him didn't have glasses and his face was far more regal than Potter's could ever be. Severus would have guessed they were the same age, but Potter's eyes - like those of every student Severus had ever taught - looked innocent and young. The eyes that now looked back at him were ancient. But they had the same colour, Severus noted.

For a moment Severus hesitated; then he bowed slowly. He had never been truly taught how to behave in the situation he was now, but he at least knew the basics thanks to his seven years in Slytherin.

"My Lord," he greeted, while hoping that this man wasn't as sadistic as the Dark Lord. Severus' back and limbs still ached from his visit yesterday morning - the morning after the failed raid at Azkaban. He had been there for the meeting and had taken the brute of the Dark Lord's ire - just because he hadn't been there for the raid.

Cool, green eyes assessed him.

"Take a seat. You are trembling," was the cool reply.

Severus felt himself stiffen when he heard that assessment.

How?

He knew for a fact that he had learned to fool even Dumbledore, so how?

"You are my heir, as long as you have neither accepted nor declined your position in my house, but are in my territory, I maintain the ability as your lord to measure your health by the feeling your proximity gives me. I can basically taste how you feel," the last sentence was spoken sardonically. "Not that I need it."

Severus shivered at that - it was disconcerting that the man seemed to be able to know even what he was thinking.

"A simple 'legilimens'," the man said. "Your shields are good, very good - but not good enough for me."

The next thing Severus knew, he had drawn his wand on the stranger. Before he could utter a word, the wand flew from his hands to the hands of his opponent.

"Good reflexes," the man commented. "I was not as quick as you at your age." Then the man tilted his head in thought. "But then, I didn't have a wand to draw at your age, so maybe I was and simply don't know it."

"Who… who are you?" Severus stared at the man, totally confused. The man looked like a boy, but treated Severus like a child. Severus could see the power of the man in those things he had told Severus but at the same time, the man hadn't made any move that would threaten him in any way - well, he had taken Severus' wand…

That was the second his wand was returned to him with a snorted "catch!"

Severus caught his wand and stared at the Potter look-alike - and at the same time not look-alike - in further confusion.

"Sit before you fall," the man commented and pointed at the seat in front of the desk he was leaning against.

Severus sat.

"I'm not sure if you have had any formal training in your youth, so, let's start with this question, before I answer yours. Were you taught how to act in a meeting to potentially enter a Grand Family?"

Severus sneered.

"No, I wasn't," he finally answered sincerely. Since the other one had told him that he could read Severus' thoughts and Severus' frantic search for a hole in his shields had not yet turned up anything, Severus figured that the man would know anyway, if he lied.

The man just nodded.

"Then I will treat this meeting a little bit more informal," he said. "I am Salvazsahar. Since I'm here to ask you if you are interested in entering my Grand Family, I fear I am traditionally not allowed to tell you my last name - after all you have to decide if you can accept my orders, and not if the family name is interesting enough for you to say 'yes' anyway."

"Shouldn't you be disguised if you want your identity kept hidden?" Severus returned with a sneer. The answer was a laugh.

"If I was known in the political area, I would be. Since I am not - why should I? You won't be able to speak of me anyway when you leave this room, no matter if you accept or decline," was the answer.

Severus' lips thinned again.

"And how will you keep me from telling about -"

"There's a curse on the portkey that brought you," Salvazsahar said. "It's basically are runic 'tongue-tie-curse' or 'obliviate' - based on your decision in here. If you decline, you will forget that you have ever been invited."

Severus was impressed. He had never heard of such a spell but the cool, sincere eyes of his opponent told him that he wasn't being lied to.

"I have no interest in serving a third master," Severus finally said.

The answer was a shrug.

"I wouldn't be your master," Salvazsahar said. "I would be your Head of House."

"I don't see a difference," Severus countered.

The answer was a laugh.

"Unlike those masters you are talking about, I would be responsible for your wellbeing. I can't hurt you - not that I wanted. I might be able to order you, but I will also shield you if you need shielding, aid you if you need aiding and heal you if you need healing."

Severus just scoffed at that tiredly.

He had heard too many empty promises in his life to simply believe this man in front of him.

"I am already doing everything I can for the war. I am not willing to submit to a Potter look-alike to do even more," he finally forced out. "Look for your spy elsewhere!"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Dark Lord, raided Azkaban on Hallowe'en night - the night between the day before yesterday and yesterday, to be precisely. The raid didn't go as planned. Instead of returning from Azkaban with his most faithful Death Eaters and a contract with the dementor-coven, he only returned with his faithful - some of them in an even worse condition than they had been while being imprisoned in Azkaban," Severus could just stare at Salvazsahar. Said man shrugged. "You were punished yesterday morning after you were called. Riddle used his ire for his failed mission on you. His army isn't as big now as he hoped for - that doesn't mean that he gave up on the prophecy in the Department of Mysteries - well, do you truly think I need a spy in Riddle's ranks?"

Severus guessed that the other man truly didn't need a spy if he knew all that already.

"That doesn't mean you don't want me to spy on the Headmaster," Severus countered.

"Albus Dumbledore is concerned about Harry Potter. The boy doesn't act like Dumbledore thinks he should and he asked Mad-Eye Moody to look into it. There's also the shifts he is delegating the order members to do in the Department of Mysteries - absolutely barmy, that one. As long as Riddle doesn't enter the Ministry himself or Harry Potter isn't tricked into going there, there is no one who can take that prophecy from the shelf. He's also trying to recruit new members for his Order - do you need anything else?"

Severus stared at the man in front of him.

"If you know that all that - if you can get all that information without me - why do you want me to join your family?" Severus finally asked hesitatingly.

The answer was a shrug.

"You're a child of my adopted son's blood - which makes you my child. Even if I despised you with all my heart, I still would ask you if you want to be a part of my family. I still would protect you," Salvazsahar answered shrugging. "It's the least I can do."

Severus frowned, but the other one wasn't done yet.

"This isn't servitude, Severus," he said. "A Grand Family is for protection. Of course, it is your choice. Just consider how it will end for you now when the war finally ends. You will be either dead or imprisoned for life."

"I don't think that the Headmaster -" Severus started to object but the other one overruled him.

"If you aren't killed by either side for either betrayal or because you aren't useful anymore and if you survive the battles you will have to fight for either side, the Headmaster would keep you at Hogwarts even after the war. He might have influence, but he is old and his influence is dwindling. He might be able to rescue you from Azkaban but it will be likely that you would be stuck for the rest of your life as a teacher. After all, the Wizengamot will be more easily persuaded in letting you go if you are still somewhere you are monitored. And the Headmaster wouldn't let you go without a fight because it is nearly impossible to get at potions master with your salary to work in a school. Is that truly what you want?"

Severus grimaced.

"And if the Headmaster dies, there's a huge chance that you will end up in Azkaban, after all there is no one who trusts you now and it's the Headmaster who kept you out of it the first time around. Without his help there won't be a lot of people inclined to help you."

Severus imagined Potter as the winner of the war and the one who would be revered by the other wizards and witches after it. Severus would have no chance. He would be in prison before he could even utter the word 'spy' - after all, everyone knew that Harry Potter hated him with passion.

Severus grimaced again. He had never seen his future as clearly as he had done just now. It wasn't a pleasant future. Death seemed the best ending he could imagine - and that was definitely a depressing thought.

"Like I said, it is your decision," Salvazsahar said softly.

Severus glared.

"And if I join you - what will be expected of me?" he finally asked.

The answer was a smile. "There are a few rules I would like you to follow if you join - other than that, there's nothing more expected. I don't care what you do for a living, who you believe in or who you want to marry."

At that Severus grimaced. "I don't plan on marrying, ever," he confessed, knowing that the other would have read it in his thoughts either way.

"Like I said, that's your decision."

"And what rules will I have to follow if I join?" Severus asked, sure that he would now find out the trap behind the offer.

"Unity of the Grand Family in public. You may hate each other all you like when you're in private, but as long as you are in public you stand behind family." The straight forward answer definitely baffled him. "I also would expect you submit to a health test. You will be tested for potions or spells."

Reasonable. Surprisingly reasonable.

"Another non-negotiable rule for the others that still can't do it, would be to learn to occlude their mind. Since you already can do it, I won't insist on it this time - but if you want to I can teach you how to strengthen your shields."

Severus nodded at that. It was reasonable. Occlumency after all helped against possession, compulsion charms or imperius.

"And lastly, the family comes first. I don't care what you believe. I don't care if you're light or dark. But I care if you decide to follow another man like little ducklings, unable to think for yourselves. If you join my family, your loyalty will be to your family. You might admire someone else - someone like Albus Dumbledore or whoever - but you won't follow them blindly. The family comes first. Work with them, admire them for all I care, but you will always think what your actions will do to the family name," Salvazsahar said.

"What about -" Severus stopped there but his hand automatically cradled his left arm. The boyish looking man's eyes darkened.

"I will remove it," he said. "If you want to continue spying for now, I won't stop you. I can place that… thing… on a bracelet for now so that you can still be summoned with it and I can teach you an illusion Riddle wouldn't even think about searching for so that it looks as if that… thing… is still there. But if you join, it's gone. I don't mind the dark as long as you don't endanger life. Life is precious. But in my eyes, Tom Riddle is at fault for the murder of some of our family members. I can't condone that."

Severus frowned at that.

"Family members?" he asked hesitatingly.

"Gideon and Fabian Prewett," the other man elaborated. "Alice and Frank Longbottom. Lily -"

At that Severus' eyes sharpened.

"Lily?" he repeated. "As in Lily Evans ?!"

The answer was a laugh from Salvazsahar. "Lily LeFay," he corrected Severus and Severus felt himself deflate a little, at least until Salvazsahar added. "Evans might have been her official last name in the mundane world but she has always been a LeFey by blood."

"You're telling me Lily and I were related?" Severus asked sharply.

The answer was a shrug. "Very distantly you were, yes. But then, it would have been near enough that I would have invited her into the family anyway."

"What about her boy?" Severus had wanted to stop that question but he couldn't even if he wanted. Of course, he despised the boy - but on the other hand the boy's safety was his only goal in life right now. He wanted the child to live for Lily. No, he needed the child to live for Lily.

"I can neither deny nor confirm those who haven't already joined this alliance," Salvazsahar finally answered. "Now, Severus Tobias Snape, will you join this Grand Family?"

And Severus knew that his time asking questions was up. He hesitated just for a second.

Lucius Malfoy was shivering when he finally entered Gringotts via port key. His limbs were week and he wasn't in the pristine condition he had hoped to arrive, but the Dark Lord had interrupted him shortly before he could leave and Lucius had again felt the man's ire. The man had not been amused about the newest article in 'The Quibbler'.

"Why, Lucius, didn't you stop this article?" the insane man had wanted to know. "After the last one you should have understood that this brat can't be allowed to continue with this drivel! He'll destroy everything we worked for if he continues!"

The Crucios afterwards hadn't convinced Lucius to do as the Dark Lord pleased, but had instead cemented his decision.

So Lucius had port-keyed to Gringotts.

In the dark room he landed in, another man had been waiting for him already. Said man was young with dark hair and… oddly familiar.

"I'm surprised that you came, Lucius," the man said. "After last time and your unwillingness to even cooperate with me as your head of house I had guessed you wouldn't accept the invite today."

Lucius' eyes widened.

"My Lord!" he said and then bowed stiffly, suppressing a hiss of pain while doing so.

"Sit down before you fall down, Lucius," Salvazsahar replied and gestured to the chair in front of the desk he was leaning on. Sharp eyes ghosted over Lucius' pale features. "It seems Riddle has decided to dish out the Cruciatus like Dumbledore dishes out candy."

Lucius grimaced at that comparison.

"I'm not quite sure what to think considering you just compared the darkest wizard of today's times with our… lightest," he finally settled on saying. "I think that comparison might be a little bit… extreme, My Lord."

The answer was a careful shrug.

"Nevertheless true, Lucius," he said. And that told Lucius a lot about the Grand Family he had been offered to enter. No Dumbledore, no Dark Lord.

It sounded oddly… pleasant.

Lucius settled into the chair in front of the desk.

"I'm listening, My Lord," he said stiffly while following the protocol that existed for occasions like that. The answer was a smirk and then the other began to talk. There was no flowery speech like the Dark Lord had used when he had convinced Lucius to join him, there were no threats. The Lord in front of him just stated the bare facts. The rules and conditions for the Grand Family.

Somehow Lucius appreciated that. He was far too hurt and tired to play a political game right now.

True, the man in front of him was no Dark Lord with enigmatic aura. He was also no Dumbledore with power oozing from every pore. The man in front of him was something else instead: he was truthful to Lucius, genuine - and Lucius suddenly found himself appreciating this character trait more than he would have thought.

Harry was slowly making his way back to the common room, when he suddenly was shoved into an empty, dusty classroom to his left. He was thrown against one of the walls and held there by the throat. Harry flinched violently. His whole body was still in agony from the nearly deadly ritual he had done yesterday night and even if he was good at hiding it, he couldn't hide it fully.

A wand was pressed against his throat.

"Who are you?" a voice growled.

Harry knew that voice. Moody.

The old Auror finally had found a hint that he wasn't who he seemed to be…

Nothing surprising there, Harry had just waited until the paranoid man would catch on. There had been no way of hiding the differences from the man after he had been set onto Harry by the headmaster. There was just one way to maybe get out of this mess with his skin intact. It was a bit risky, considering his state of health, but it also was the only way.

Harry stopped moving so that the Auror would not think about using a curse against him when he answered the question.

"You should use Veritasserum on me," he suggested. "Four drops - just to make sure."

Moody scrutinized his victim.

He had watched the boy for a long time. Of course he had not known the boy before but he still could see that something was off. The boy was nothing like Albus Dumbledore had described him. When Albus had talked about the boy it had sounded like a rebellious teen but the boy Moody met wasn't a rebellious teen at all. He might act like one and fool the others to think he was - but behind the façade was a cunning mind.

"You do not sound very worried, impostor" Moody grunted.

"I am not," the boy said, shrugging. "While my secrets do not hurt me - they just might hurt you."

Moody looked at the boy with searching eyes.

"And where do you think I will get Veritasserum from?" he asked finally.

"I have some" the boy answered. "It is sufficient, I believe."

Moody just snorted.

"As if you would give me real Veritasserum."

"You are an Auror. You know the effects of it and you have seen it often enough to tell if someone is faking its effects, I believe," the boy answered.

Moody just snorted.

"And of course you want me to release you so that you can get it out."

"My wand-holsters are on both of my wrists" the boy answered him sincerely. "I do have some weapon-holsters on my belt. Just take them."

Moody blinked. Normally he had to persuade his victims to tell him where their weapons were…

He slowly reached for the boy's wrists and discovered the holsters. He took them. Four holsters, four wands. After that he reached for the belt and just took it away together with the weapons on it. On the belt there were also a lot of vials. Moody recognized the most of them as healing potions. One of them also was the truth-serum.

When he had the weapons he searched the boy for other, hidden weapons. He found nothing.

So he finally stepped back, his wand lowered a little bit. While he watched the boy with his magical eye he looked through the potions the boy had carried.

On the stopper of the vials were the initials of the potion master engraved. Moody knew all initials of legitimized potion masters by heart. He had learned them for his work.

On the stoppers were engraved the golden initials 'SEL'. This surprised Moody. He knew the engraving. It was an old one and no-one knew when the potion master had done his mastery. There had never been a date of death and so the engraving had continued. Sometimes there were people who had a vial from the mysterious potion master but he had never seen a potion's equipment solely engraved with these initials. And there was no way these initials could be falsified. There was a curse on them that enabled just the potion master they belonged to, to use them. Moody checked the potions and found them all sealed - so they were the real deal.

Moody took the Veritasserum and broke the seal with a little bit of regret. The potions of 'SEL' were some of the best on the market - and they were rare. It nearly felt like destroying something holy to break one of their seals…

"Well, open up, lad," he said to the boy who had not moved at all. The boy sat down on the floor and did as he was told. Moody did not fault the boy for sitting down. Veritasserum did disable your ability to stay on your feet and Moody also hadn't missed the slight flinch of the boy when he was pressed against the wall. The boy was hurt - Moody had no idea how it happened, but it was nevertheless true.

"Either he has a high pain tolerance, is trained in Occlumency, or isn't hurt too badly," Moody guessed while he dropped four drops in the open mouth of the boy. He assumed the last.

The Veritasserum hit the boys tongue. It took just seconds then the boy's eyes glassed over.

Definitely the best Veritasserum you could get on the market.

"State your name," Moody said.

Harry felt the potion compelling him to tell the truth but it didn't compel him to say a specific name. It seemed that 'Salvatio Malfoire' was as true for the truth serum as 'Salvazsahar Emrys', 'Salazar Slytherin' or 'Harry Potter'. Well, Moody already knew Harry's name. There would be no way he would get another without a little work! But then, the auror deserved a little headache for the way he had handled Harry…

"Harryjames Salvatio Amethyst Potter," Harry said, even while drugged spitting the third name he mentioned. The moment he was rid of Dumbledore and Voldemort he would rip Sirius Black apart for giving him a girl's name at birth! Had that mangy mutt been drunk while naming him?!

But then, Harry had the feeling he knew exactly where that name had come from…

Moody meanwhile blinked.

That wasn't the answer he had expected to get.

'Harry James Potter' had been one option.

Every other name in history another - at least as long as there was no ' Potter ' or ' Harry' to find in it anywhere.

He sighed.

"How old are you?" he finally asked.

"Fifteen," the answer was instant. A real fifteen-year-old portraying another fifteen-year-old?! Normally fifteen-year-olds were far too prone to mess things up and the plan - and the ward had been far too complicated for a mere fifteen-year-old! His opponent must be lying! Moody picked up the bottle of Veritasserum and read the label.

No, still truth serum.

He sighed and decided a different approach: "When were you born?"

"31st of July, 1980," the boy answered again without hesitation.

Moody again looked at the bottle.

Still Veritasserum…

…

…

Did that mean that boy was Potter ?!

"Are you Harry Potter?" he asked again.

This boy couldn't be -

"No," the boy answered and Moody huffed. It seemed that he finally got somewhere!

"Where is Harry Potter?" Moody asked.

This time there was no answer. The boy just blinked, a sign that the question couldn't be answered by the other. Moody frowned. It had been a straight forward question so why couldn't the impostor with the frightening similar name answer?!

So he had to take another way to find out what the impostor was hiding.

"What are your plans?"

"Going to Gryffindor tower and after that to dinner," that wasn't the answer Moody had been waiting for. It seemed as if he had been too unspecific. Answers like that always happened if the questions were too open.

He frowned inwardly and then asked again: "What are your plans for the future?"

That should be better…

"Finding my book about Hogwarts. Searching objects. Working. Travelling. Staying away from thron -"

"Stop!" Moody blinked at that but dismissed the answers he had gotten. They weren't useful at all! He needed to know about the current plans for the school!

"What are your current plans concerning school?"

"Finishing my OWLs" - not exactly the answer Moody had been hoping for…

He groaned.

"Do you give answers like that deliberately?" he asked frustrated.

"Yes," Harry answered, still drugged. "I don't give anything away for free."

"I noticed," Moody growled, then he returned to his first approach. "Tell me everything you know about what happened with Harry Potter."

This time the answer would turn his world around.

"He was created on Hallowe'en 1981 by Albus Dumbledore and died the next morning. He was recreated in August 1985 by Petunia Dursley for school. He died on the 2nd of August this year," the boy in front of Moody answered. It was then that Moody's world came crashing down. He knew what that answer meant, he himself had given something similar to it when he had been asked under the influence of Veritasserum about 'Mad-Eye Moody'.

Albus Dumbledore had done more than hiding away the child. He had tried - even if Moody was sure that it wasn't deliberately - to change the child's name. There was just one thing that Moody had to ask to confirm his suspicion.

"You found out your true name this summer."

For a second there was silence, then the boy answered. "Yes," he said.

"Albus Dumbledore didn't tell you it," Moody guessed.

"Yes."

"Is that the reason why you are different from what Albus described?" Moody asked.

This time, surprisingly a small smile started to grace the youth face.

"Partly," the boy said.

"What is the other reason?"

"I am no weapon," the boy answered instantly and his eyes were oddly clear for Veritasserum. "He has done nothing but meddle his whole life without ever thinking about the consequences of his actions. It's time that someone stops him before he destroys us all."

"It's thanks to Albus Dumbledore that a lot of people were rescued!"

"And yet it is thanks to him that the war happened in the first place," the boy answered. "I'm not naïve. I saw him working on taking down a Dark Lord. If we continue down his path, there would be thousands and thousands of dead on our side."

Moody's eyes widened when the boy suddenly stood up. The child's body was trembling but the boy had ful control over it otherwise.

"I give you the same data I gave Severus Snape. Albus Dumbledore knew Grindelwald since he was seventeen and knew what that mad man planned - yet the first time he acted was when he was sixty. I don't blame him for not fighting. I blame him for keeping his silence. Albus Dumbledore also 'knew ' about Tom Riddle when that boy was still in school - yet he simply watched again. Do you see a pattern? Think about it."

With that the boy coughed and turned away from Moody. He still wasn't fast enough for Moody not to see the blood on the child's lips.

Moody's eyes narrowed.

"What happened to you, Potter?" he asked.

The boy turned half-way back from putting back on his holsters and belt and smiled a faint smile.

"Just a minor hurt considering what I endured while attending Hogwarts from year one to four," he answered. "Definitely less deadly than basilisk-venom cursing through my body."

Moody growled.

"That's not an answer, Potter," Moody said. The boy shrugged.

"It's part of the price I paid to destroy Riddle," he answered. "The odds are well that I won't die from - for now at least."

An odd feeling of concern followed that statement and for a moment, Moody wasn't sure what to reply.

"You… you shouldn't even joke about your death, lad," he finally declared.

The answer was a smile full of bloody teeth. "Why not? At least like that I would die to my terms and not at the biding of… our… most beloved… headmaster." The last words he said slowly, as if he was considering each carefully. "I have an odd feeling that that's one of the things the Headmaster definitely planned for me, but if you don't believe me - ask the Headmaster himself. Ask him who his little weapon is going to be. Ask him if he truly raised me as a pig for slaughter."

Then he bowed.

"I'm on my way now, Lord Moody," he said. "Have a nice day." And with that he left the classroom.

Moody's eyes followed him while Moody's mind repeated everything Albus Dumbledore had ever said about Harry Potter.

The lad was right. Albus had long since planned Potter's course of action. Albus himself had called the child 'weapon'. Albus always insisted that Harry would be the one to finish off the Dark Lord.

Moody felt sickened to the core.

Hermione had struggled with her apology - not, because she couldn't see Harry's point of view, but because she felt guilty for acting the way she did in the first place. Harry always had been her best friend - losing him because of her own actions had been hard, but she had experienced it before. Being admonished by him before he stopped talking to her had been new and his words had definitely driven home his point.

So she stopped next to Harry at the table in the common room the evening two days after Hallowe'en. She knew that Harry had just come back from who-knew-where but this time around she wouldn't pry.

"Harry," she said tentatively. "I… I wanted to talk to you. Do… do you have some time for me?"

The answer was a sigh, then Harry sat down his quill and looked up.

"Have a seat, please," he said and Hermione sat, still fidgeting.

"I… I'm sorry!" she blurted out. "Truly, Harry, I'm so sorry! I should have talked to you! You were right! And I -"

"Just tell me: Why did you do it?" Harry interrupted her coolly and Hermione slumped.

"I…" Hermione stopped and huffed frustrated. "It seemed the right thing to do at that time!" she finally explained. "You didn't behave like you did normally and I feared that something had happened and well… Dumbledore is one of the most powerful wizards of our time -"

"That doesn't explain why you went behind my back and talked to him," Harry commented and he was right. It explained nothing.

"Well… I… he…" Hermione snapped her mouth shut. Then she sighed. "I was sure you wouldn't listen - like you didn't listen when I expressed my concern about the Firebolt."

Harry tilted his head.

"You never tried to explain that to me either," he said and leaned back in his chair. Hermione saw him wince when he did so and her eyes narrowed, then her focus snapped back to the discussion.

"You wouldn't have listened. You just saw the Firebolt," she said. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"So you think I, who was forced to endure death threats because of people not listening to me since I was eleven, wouldn't have believed you if you told me my life was at stake?" he snorted amused. "Hermione, do you truly think I crave the danger I was in every year?"

Hermione blushed, embarrassed.

"No," she said. After that silence reigned between them.

"I'm sorry," she finally repeated and Harry inclined his head.

"I forgive you, " he finally said. "But I won't forget. If you ever dare to do something like that again, don't expect me to be so lenient again."

Hermione hesitated, then she nodded.

"Thank you," she said before hesitating again. "What… what happened to you?"

Harry just raised an eyebrow.

"I'm quite sure that you have lost the right to pry the moment you went to the headmaster to tattle on me." He answered and returned to his homework.

Hermione pressed her lips together but finally nodded.

"Sorry," she said again. "Er… may I join you?"

Harry shrugged, wincing at the gesture.

"Do as you please," he answered and Hermione pulled out her own homework.

She still watched her best friend while she worked. He was moving stiffly and it looked sometimes as if he was in pain, but his words had told her that he wouldn't answer her question - something that hurt and also concerned her greatly, but before she could do something else rash, Neville and Ron joined them at the table.

Both of the other boys pulled out their homework and started to work on it. It was them complaining about Umbridge and asking Harry about this or that in the defence curriculum they should have learned, that finally sparked her idea.

For a moment she still hesitated - she had been accepted back just now, after all - but then she plunged ahead anyway. "Harry, have you ever thought about teaching the other students defence? I mean, you are very good in it and with Voldemort back we need to practice as much as we can!"

Harry just raised an eyebrow. "And your suggestion is…?"

"We should form a defence club behind Umbridge's back!" she answered enthusiastically. "Let's ask the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and the rest of the Gryffindors we know and trust to join!" And maybe, so she thought, it would help Harry to overcome his trauma of Cedric's death and the dementors in the summer…

Harry frowned. "I've already a very full schedule, Hermione," he said.

"But this is important, Harry!" Hermione insisted. "We need to be able to defend us when Voldemort returns to the open and considering that the Ministry tries to stifle our knowledge someone else will have to teach us - and you can do it, I am sure!"

Harry sighed and leaned back again with a wince. Hermione saw Neville's eyes narrow at that, but the other boy said nothing.

"Please, Harry, at least consider it!" she pleaded.

"It would be a good idea," Ron murmured at that moment. "I would definitely feel safer if I knew that I know how to defend myself."

Neville nodded.

"I mean, we're trying to learn what we should have learned by ourselves but it would be a lot easier if there was a group to learn with."

At that, Harry sighed again.

"Alright," he said. "I will consider it."

And Hermione smiled, not knowing that she had played into Harry's hands by her suggestion. It wasn't what he had originally planned, but it would work better this way.