Whispers of a Raven - One From Three

He had allowed a few days to pass before summoning her in the hopes that she would calm down, somewhat. She hadn’t. She continued to curse her grandfather, her sister, and Peverell for what had happened, ranting and raving like a mad woman. It had amused him at first, but it was beginning to test his already fraying patience.

“Bella?”

She turned to look at him questioningly.

“Shut up.”

She scowled but said nothing else and the Dark Lord took a moment to enjoy the tranquillity of silence before speaking once more.

“I do not understand why you are so upset. Peverell is a strong wizard that will take care of Narcissa, unless you are jealous?”

Bellatrix balked at the accusation.

“I am not jealous!”

“Then why such a reaction?”

“Because I want him dead,” she replied, pouting as a child would.

The Dark Lord shook his head.

Bellatrix was undoubtedly unhinged in many ways, useful when put to task, but her moods seemed to shift with the wind. In only a second, she could go from being ecstatically happy to murderously furious. Such lack of control was unbecoming and frankly psychotic.

“With Peverell marrying your sister, he is more likely to become an ally,” he pointed out. “You must let go of this obsessive grudge you have against him. It is rather ridiculous, and your efforts are better focused elsewhere.”

“But…”

“Crucio!”

He had reached the end of his patience with Bellatrix and held her under the spell for a moment, her now familiar screams of agony failing to stir him in any way. Perhaps his treatment of her over these past months had only made her more unpredictable?

With a shrug, he released her from the grip of the spell and leaned back in his chair. It mattered not. It was too late to undo any damage he had done to her mind.

“Are you quite finished?” he questioned.

She nodded as she trembled, splayed across the floor gasping for breath and yelping as she pulled herself to her feet.

“Y-yes, M-my lord.”

“Excellent, ah, Lucius, did you manage to acquire it?”

The blonde entered the room, his own expression one of displeasure as he bowed and handed the Dark Lord a roll of parchment.

“I did. There have been several requests to see the copy of the contract. It appears the wedding between Peverell and Black has generated much interest, my lord.”

“Indeed,” Voldemort murmured as he unrolled the document and began to read. “Well, this is very interesting,” he mused aloud when he had finished.

“Interesting, my lord?” Lucius pressed.

“It seems that Lord Black has all but ensured the future of your family, Bellatrix,” Voldemort explained as he handed her the document, “Unless someone is willing to make an enemy of Peverell, and that is unlikely. Quite the stroke of genius.”

He watched as the woman’s eyes narrowed in fury as she absorbed the contents.

“Why would any children I have not be in the line of succession?”

“Because your grandfather does not wish for the Black family to fall under the control of the Lestranges,” Lucius replied. “I suspect that is the reason that was included in the contract.”

The Dark Lord nodded his agreement.

“The rest is rather mundane and typical?”

“It is,” Bellatrix whispered. “I already know what house Cissy will choose.”

“Then there is nothing to be done other than wish them a long and prosperous life together,” Voldemort declared.

“A prosperous life?” Lucius hissed. “He stole my wife!”

“Your wife?” the Dark Lord questioned. “Lucius, you were not even contracted to marry. I suggest you accept the loss and move on. You will not jeopardise a potential alliance with your pettiness.”

Lucius frowned petulantly.

Many of his followers were like spoilt toddlers, so used to getting their own way and having a tantrum when they didn’t. It was rather pathetic, but their support was needed.

Lucius nor Bella would be the last to act in such a way, and for the time being, it was something that must be endured. Perhaps when the war escalated, they would understand what real adversity was?

As things stood, they were undoubtedly talented, but had been coddled their entire lives, gifted everything they owned and had not had to break a sweat in the pursuit of anything.

That was not the real world. The real world was a cruel and harsh place where one had to fight to merely survive.

They would learn this soon enough. When the true fighting began, they would understand what true adversity was and forget such an inane thing as a lost bride.

(Break)

“As much as I don’t want to, I will have to get up. I have to go back to work tonight,” Narcissa reminded him.

“That’s not for a while yet,” Harry mumbled.

“I know, but we haven’t talked about that, yet,” she replied with smirk, pointing at the copy of their marriage contract on the table.

It had been three days of bliss where they had shut out the world beyond Harry’s tent and simply enjoyed being with one another. Harry had missed two Quidditch practices and Camden had arranged for Narcissa to have the time off, so long as she returned to work a night shift for a week in return.

To Narcissa, it was a worthwhile compromise.

“What is there to talk about?” Harry asked as he sat up.

“Well, we have to at least start planning the wedding, that’s a big task by itself, and I want to look over the contract and see how stupid you were by signing it,” she added with a grin as she fetched the document.

“Whatever I signed, I think I got the better deal,” he returned.

Narcissa blushed and swatted him with the parchment.

“If I didn’t know you lacked the ability to charm someone, I would think you were trying to be sweet,” she sighed. “It just makes it more meaningful that I know you’re being blunt. Now, be quiet whilst I read this.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Harry defended.

“You just did.”

Harry shook his head amusedly as Narcissa perused the document.

“Well, it certainly could be worse,” she declared when she was finished. “We will be financially secure, and we get to choose a house. I know which one I want.”

“Don’t I get a say in it?”

“Harry, you live in a tent,” Narcissa pointed out. “I think that decision should be left to me. Besides, I know these properties. You would hate most of them.”

“Good point,” he chuckled. “I don’t really care where we live, as long as you’re happy with it.”

Narcissa nodded.

“There’s a house on the southwest coast. It’s private and next to the beach. We used to go when we were children. It will be perfect.”

“That sounds good,” Harry agreed. “Anything else?”

“50,000 galleons is a lot of money…”

“Your grandfather insisted on it, as he did with everything in there,” Harry explained.

“I know, you’re not selfish enough to negotiate that,” Narcissa laughed. “It just means we will be financially stable.”

“We will,” Harry agreed.

“All of that is fine, but the part about Sirius, it means that one of our children or even our grandchildren could be the next Lord Black. That’s a big deal.”

“I know, and it’s another thing your grandfather was very firm on. He’s worried that the Lestranges could somehow seize control of your family assets for themselves.”

Narcissa nodded and sighed.

“They would if they could and Bella wouldn’t be able to stop them even if she wanted to.”

“All of that is a concern for another day,” Harry comforted. “With this contract, that won’t happen unless they kill me.”

“They might try,” Narcissa said worriedly.

“And they will fail,” he said firmly. “I am not worried about the Lestranges or anyone else. We should be thinking about our wedding. I’d much rather talk about that.”

Narcissa smiled.

“So would I, but Lucius will not let this go. He’s too stubborn to admit he’s been beaten at anything…”

“Then he will die,” Harry returned. “I may not be so politically inclined, but I will not have anyone threaten you or me. If Lucius attempts anything, it will be the last thing he ever does, I promise. I will be watching him very closely.”

Narcissa nodded.

“Sometimes, I forget that I should probably be terrified of you,” she grinned.

“Because you shouldn’t,” Harry returned as he pulled her into his arms. “I would never do anything to harm you.”

“I know,” Narcissa replied. “I am a Black, Harry, I don’t scare so easily, anyway. I’m certainly not scared of you.”

He raised a challenging eyebrow at her, and she returned the gesture with a glare.

 “That does remind me though. Mother and father have invited you for dinner on Saturday. I think they want to discuss the wedding and get to know you.”

Harry’s expression shifted to one of horror as he groaned and Narcissa shook her head at his reaction.

“My father…”

“Is a pain in the arse?”

“Yes,” Narcissa agreed with a sigh, “but he will be respectful. My mother…”

“Is a very sweet lady that won’t threaten me?”

Narcissa shot him a look of faux despair.

“My mother is a sweet lady, until she loses her temper. Just don’t make her do that and you’ll be fine.”

“Will your sister be there?”

Narcissa shook her head.

“She’s moved in with Rudolphus, and as a Lestrange, she won’t have much to do with the Blacks unless it is for weddings or family gatherings.”

“Ah, there are small mercies.”

“Harry…”

“I know, but let’s not forget she tried to kill me,” Harry reminded her.

“And you’re very sweet for being so forgiving,” Narcissa replied, kissing him gently.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Harry grumbled.

Narcissa giggled.

“Like it or not, Bella is going to be your sister-in-law,” she pointed out.

“I didn’t think of that.”

Narcissa offered him a look of amusement as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Too late now, you signed the contract,” she returned with a playful grin.

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

“I still got the better deal.”

“You did well,” Narcissa praised. “I suspect my grandfather was rather keen on the match with what he was willing to part with to see it happen.”

“He wasn’t against it but not too pleased with my timing,” Harry chuckled.

“No, I can’t imagine he was,” she replied. “I do need to ask you though, is there anything that I should be aware of? Do you have any children, or have you been married before?”

“No, nothing like that,” Harry replied immediately. “My life hasn’t allowed for those kind of things.”

Narcissa breathed an audible sigh of relief.

“And the wizard with the red eyes…”

“Will be dealt with when the time is right,” Harry assured her.

Narcissa stared at him speculatively for a moment and nodded.

“Good, because I don’t plan on living as a widow.”

“And I wouldn’t leave you one,” he promised. “Now, we only have a few hours before you have to go back to work, so can we forget about everything until I am tortured by your parents?”

Narcissa grinned.

The past week of her life had been turbulent, the one thing she believed to be a certainty having proven not to be. For now, she was content to merely enjoy these moments with Harry and deal with whatever may come. She wouldn’t allow any of it to ruin her current happiness.

Not when it was so newly found and so welcome.

(Break)

A vase full of flowers smashed against the wall as he released a guttural roar, his temper getting the better of him as he finished digesting the contents of the contract. Rather ironically, the flowers were placed there by his wife to keep him calm when something provoked this very reaction from him. Instead of calming him with their floral smell, as intended, breaking it surprisingly made him feel better, though his breathing was laboured, and eyes narrowed at the piece of parchment.

All his hard work to secure the marriage between Rudolphus and Bellatrix was for naught, his ambition gone up in smoke courtesy of Arcturus Black and Peverell.

Had the elder Lord known of his plans?

Corvus shook his head.

No, it was not possible. It was almost such a farfetched play-out of events that would need to occur that not even the most astute of men would have considered it.

Regardless, it felt as though he had been outwitted and such a thought did not sit well with him. The fruits of his efforts were all but an emptier vault from the cost of the wedding and a daughter-in-law that crossed the border of lunacy; A considerable loss and a burden of a woman he was now responsible for.

According to Rudolphus, Bellatrix had been in a towering rage since Abraxus’s own ambitions had been quelled, and Corvus felt only a sense of relief that he had given the two of them their own home so that he had not been subjected to her mad raving.

“Where is your wife?” he asked.

“She has been summoned by the Dark Lord,” Rudolphus explained, evidently fatigued himself by how his marriage was beginning.

“Good, I don’t want to see her unless necessary,” Corvus mumbled as he poured himself and his son a generous measure of whiskey. “Had I known she was so deranged; I would have married Rabastan to the younger one.”

“She’s angry, father,” Rudolphus defended. “She hates Peverell…”

“And it is a grudge she will let go of or so help me I will fucking kill the bint myself,” Corvus spat. “Peverell is not the problem here. He is merely a fool that fell in love but has, I believe, unintentionally derailed my plans. I can see no way towards seeing them come to light now.”

“Couldn’t we just kill him?”

Corvus snorted.

“That played out so well when your wife tried that tact,” he returned irritably. “No, that would be a poor choice, and the Dark Lord yet expresses an interest in him. Unless he says so otherwise, Peverell must be left alone.”

Rudolphus nodded unhappily.

“Then what will we do?”

“We will wait, boy. We do nothing until everything settles. If Peverell proves to be an enemy of our lord, he will be dealt with accordingly and then perhaps our goal will still be attainable. For now, it is the best we can hope for.”

“So, Peverell will need to die?”

Corvus nodded.

“Either through the will of the Dark Lord or when such a coup is not expected, he will need to die.”

(Break)

Watching Harry play Quidditch had become something of a weekly tradition for Charlus. Sometimes, Dorea would join him, Arcturus and Narcissa with the occasional appearance of Melania. Today, however, had been spoiled somewhat by the appearance of Druella and Cygnus. He had nothing against the woman, she had always been respectful and polite. The same could not be said for Arcturus’s younger son.

Cygnus had an inferiority complex and felt the need to prove himself against those he thought he was better than. Charlus had not tolerated such behaviour from the man and had never had any qualms about putting him in his place. Cygnus, sadly, never learned from his errors where the Potter lord was concerned and the two simply clashed, much to the annoyance of Dorea and even Druella.

Charlus could not comprehend how the woman tolerated her berk of a husband.

“I don’t understand how you can watch this, Cissy,” Druella panicked.

Currently, Harry was stood on his broom, navigating his way through the opposing players who were evidently determined to halt his pursuit of the snitch. A questionable tactic at best, but one that was necessary if they hoped to clinch victory. They were 130 points behind, and their seeker could not match Harry in any way.

“You get used to it,” Narcissa sighed, fidgeting nervously with her green and gold scarf.

“He’s bloody good,” Cygnus commented, “and he’s got a pair, I’ll give him that.”

That would likely be the only thing that Charlus and the man would ever agree upon. He certainly didn’t agree with Cygnus’s choice of husband for Narcissa, but it had seemingly worked out in the girl’s favour and had made the wedding just that much more bearable.

It was not the kind of move he would have expected from Harry, but then again, he couldn’t profess to know him all that well. Regardless, he was pleased for them both and wished them the very best.

He smiled as he watched Narcissa fretting, the wool of her scarf having been stretched where she had pulled on it over the past weeks.

They were so very different, but they made a very good couple from what he’d seen. Narcissa was kind, caring, a little aloof at times but a sweet woman, much like his own wife. Harry was blunt, protective but a good man who would ensure she was looked after and safe.

Evidently, Narcissa was exceedingly pleased with the match if the proud smile she wore as Harry caught the snitch was anything to go by.

“Thank Merlin that is over,” Druella muttered. “Did you get his head checked when he was first brought into St Mungo’s? The man has a death wish.”

Cygnus chuckled as he wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulder.

“Nonsense,” he declared. “Peverell’s just got what it takes to be an excellent player. I’ve never seen anyone fly a broom like him.”

Charlus frowned, annoyed that there was a second thing he agreed upon with the man.

“You are having dinner with him tonight?” Arcturus questioned.

Druella nodded.

“We are going to begin discussing the wedding,” she explained. “I don’t see any reason to wait for them to be married.”

“I agree,” Arcturus replied. “Perhaps a summer wedding where everyone can be in attendance,” he suggested.

“You would want the entire family there?” Melania questioned, concerned by the thought.

“Why would they not be?” Druella asked.

“Because Harry would not take kindly to any unpleasantness,” Charlus broke in.

Druella worried her lower lip.

“They would all be on their best damned behaviour,” Arcturus said firmly.

Druella offered her father-in-law a look of uncertainty but offered no rebuttal.

“Who else would we invite?”

“Not many,” Narcissa insisted. “Harry wouldn’t want too many people there and neither would I.”

“Cissy, this is your wedding day. Almost every family will expect to be present…”

“To gawp at Harry,” Narcissa cut in. “I am no one of consequence to any of them and they would only attend to stare at him and try to gain his favour. He would hate that, and I won’t have him being made to feel uncomfortable on our wedding day.”

“Well said,” Dorea praised.

Narcissa offered her a grateful smile.

“We can discuss it during dinner,” Druella placated. “If you both would like a smaller ceremony, I don’t see that being an issue.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Cygnus agreed. “I’ve had a gutful of planning weddings for one year as it is.”

“You did nothing of the sort, Cygnus Black,” Druella chided. “Whenever Bella’s wedding was mentioned, it was as though you had been scolded with how quickly you made an excuse to leave.”

“He got that from his father, dear,” Melania huffed. “Whenever wedding plans were mentioned, Arcturus was nowhere to be seen.”

“No, he was too busy hiding in our basement with Charlus,” Dorea informed them. “They always thought they were so clever.”

Charlus shared a grin with Arcturus.

Many hours had been wiled away in that basement when they needed to escape from a commitment of sorts.

“I have no recollection of hiding from anyone,” Arcturus denied.

“If lurking in a basement is not hiding from your responsibilities, Arcturus, I don’t know what is,” Dorea returned evenly. “Anyway, Harry is now coming. You will not tell him about the basement. I’m sure Narcissa would appreciate his input on their wedding.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Charlus muttered. “Were you, Arcturus?”

“Not a thing,” the Lord Black concurred. “Let Peverell figure out his own way to escape.”

Both men laughed heartily, ignoring the glares sent their way by the four women and the thoughtful one of Cygnus Black.

(Break)

In his wildest dreams, he never would have thought that any point in his life would he be sharing a dinner table with anyone from the Black family other than Sirius. What was more, he was engaged to be married to one of them.

Harry knew that he should perhaps be the better man in the situation, but he could not help but feel elated that the world would not be plagued by the likes of Draco Malfoy at the very least. Not that it was the deciding factor on choosing to marry Narcissa. Much to his surprise, he had simply fallen for the woman and still, for the life of him, could not imagine her mothering the idiot.

He shook his head.

There was not a single thing about Draco that reminded Harry of his mother. Narcissa was a beautiful woman who had a beautiful soul and Draco was nothing but a Malfoy through and through.

Despite how odd his situation had become, he chose not to dwell on it. This was his life now and he would not shy away from happiness when it was being given to him so readily.

Without thought, he returned the encouraging smile she gave him.

He was trying to be civil to Cygnus and Druella, something that was not made easy by his preconceived notions of them. Sirius had not been flattering towards any member of his family, and perhaps Harry had allowed the man’s views to shape his own impression of them.

It wasn’t a fair thing to do, especially when they were to become his in-laws in the coming months.

Druella certainly seemed to be a warm person and Harry could see much of his bride-to-be in her. They had the very same blue eyes and slight dimpling of the cheeks when they smiled.

Cygnus was what he had expected from a Black. He was quite the presence unto himself, but full of bluster more than anything that gave Harry cause for concern. He was a typical pureblood that believed his name alone set him apart from others.

Despite this, the man seemed to be making a genuine effort to get to know him and Harry was content with giving him the benefit of the doubt. He did not wish to be on bad terms with them unless it became unavoidable.

“You were very impressive today during your match, Lord Peverell,” Druella complimented. “Where did you learn to fly like that?”

Already he had insisted on her using his first name, but she had not quite managed to put her pureblood laurels aside. Maybe when she was more familiar with him, she wouldn’t be so insistent on it.

“I taught myself mostly,” Harry answered honestly. “I’ve always enjoyed it and felt like playing Quidditch. It’s working out so far.”

“Not on my nerves it isn’t,” Narcissa mumbled, shooting him a smirk. “As someone who pieces you lot together on a weekly basis, I don’t understand the appeal.”

“No one forces you to come,” Harry pointed out.

“No, but if I didn’t, you’d hurt yourself and some other poor healer would be stuck dealing with you. I couldn’t do that to someone else. You’re my burden to bear,” Narcissa sighed dramatically.

Harry shook his head amusedly.

“Healer Camden likes me,” he retorted. “She said she’d be happy to treat me again if I needed it.”

“That’s not what she told me,” Narcissa replied. “Her exact words revolved around you being difficult and stubborn.”

Harry snorted.

“I don’t know where she gets it from,” he despaired mockingly.

“That would be her mother,” Cygnus answered. “Sarcastic to the bone, both of them.”

“I’ll make sure to watch out for that.”

“It is you that needs to be watched,” Narcissa returned.

“Then I look forward to spending the rest of my life under your ever-watchful eye.”

“Speaking of which,” Druella interjected. “Should we not begin discussing the plans for the wedding?”

Harry nodded.

“I suppose we should, not that I know anything about them. I don’t expect it’s as easy as us saying a few words and it’s all over with just a wave of a wand?” he asked hopefully.

Both Narcissa and Druella laughed as Cygnus shook his head.

“Prepare for a lecture about flowers, tablecloths and even centrepieces, Peverell,” the latter muttered.

“Flowers?”

“For the love of Merlin, don’t ask questions. Just know that they are as important as anything else that will happen that day.”

“Guests,” Druella said suddenly before Harry could respond. “I think compiling a guest list is the first thing we should do. Once that is done, we can start thinking about everything else. Is there anyone you’d like to be there, Lord Peverell?”

There were many people that Harry wished could be there, none of whom would believe what his life had become and just who it was he’d be marrying. Ron would think he’d been bewitched, Hermione would bury herself in books to try to find an explanation of what had happened after he stepped through the veil and his Dumbledore would offer him a smile and speak a few words of how magic truly was the greatest of life’s mysteries.

But none of them were here and it saddened him they would miss this.

“Maybe just the Bones family,” he spoke after a few moments of thought. “The Potters too,” he added.

It would not be how he ever envisioned his father attending his wedding, but he would take it, along with the grandparents that did not know they were such. If only there was a way his mother could be there…

He had thought of her often since his arrival and any notion he’d had of seeing her had long been dismissed. She was sixteen years old at most and knew nothing of him.

He couldn’t fathom any opportunity that he would get to meet her until she and his father were together. If that even happened. The one thing he had learned above all else since he arrived here was that not everything would remain the same as it had once been.

“Of course,” Druella replied, scratching away with a quill. “Anyone else?”

Harry shook his head.

“No, there isn’t anyone else.”

He felt Narcissa squeeze his hand under the table comfortingly and he gave her a grateful smile.

“We could always put a set of robes on Olin,” she suggested.

Harry chuckled at the thought of the raven in such an ensemble.

“I don’t think he’d like that very much.”

“Where is Olin anyway? I haven’t seen him all day.”

“He’s doing something for me,” Harry answered, eliciting a sigh of relief from Druella.

“Sorry, but he unsettles me,” she explained.

“He unsettles everyone,” Harry smirked.

“Well, I like him,” Narcissa said. “He’s very sweet when you get past the white eyes and shrieks of ‘Death’. Put him on the list.”

“The raven?” Druella asked uncertainly.

Narcissa nodded.

“I expect he’ll be there whether or not he’s invited. I’d like him there. Maybe we can perch him on Walburga’s chair.”

Cygnus laughed and agreed with a nod.

“Fine, the bird gets an invite,” Druella conceded. “Of course, the Blacks will have to be there. What about your Uncle Evan?”

“Uncle Evan?” Harry questioned.

“Lord Rosier,” Druella explained and Harry nodded, a memory of being within Dumbledore’s pensieve coming to the forefront of his mind. “I believe he has written to you before.”

Evan Rosier was a death eater, the one that had taken half of Moody’s nose during his capture.

He would be a rather interesting person to meet. Hitting the grizzled auror with a spell was quite the accomplishment.

“I have no problem with it,” he decided.

Again, Druella wrote it down.

“Anyone else?”

Narcissa shook her head.

“I can’t think of anyone,” Narcissa replied.

“Not Bella?”

“We should at least invite her,” Harry suggested. “If she decides not to come, that’s up to her.”

Narcissa nodded her agreement.

“Okay, we can always make changes to the list if we need to.”

“We can,” Druella confirmed. “Now, we have to think about colour schemes.”

Harry frowned and Cygnus shot him a knowing look.

Who knew that a wedding would take so much work?

(Break)

He had held on to his frustration for as long as he could, however, with the Dark Lord not currently carrying out attacks, he could wait no more. He’d needed a release, to relieve himself of the tension and anger he’d been carrying and there was only one way for him to do so.

Another night and another blonde later and he felt somewhat better. Again, it was not the woman he had been promised or grown an appetite for, but it would suffice.

It would have to for now.

Having left a tearful and broken woman in his wake, he exited the front door as casually as though he’d been a friendly visitor and closed it behind him, only to be startled by the flapping of wings.

He glared at the raven that had settled on the gate. Raven’s reminded him of the man that had robbed him of his prize, and with a growl, he took aim with his wand.

His spell missed as the infernal bird took flight and settled high in a tree above, mocking him with its gaze.

“Bastard,” Lucius muttered irritably.

“DEATH!”

The word made him grimace as his heart began to race. He knew of only one creature that squawked in such a way, and in his panic, Lucius sprinted, his eyes widening as an entire flock of ravens swooped from the tree in pursuit of him.

“DEATH! DEATH DEATH!” they chorused, and in a bid for freedom, he apparated, breathing a sigh of relief as he arrived at the edge of the Malfoy property.

He hated birds, ravens especially.

Taking a moment to compose himself, he laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation he’d found himself in. Just what were a bunch of ravens going to do to him? He was a highly trained wizard and they were nothing but buzzards.

Laughing to himself once more, he opened the gates with a tap of his wand and entered the Malfoy grounds and halted as another squawk rang out, this time by a lone raven perched in a tree a short distance away, the bird being one with eyes of white.

“DEATH!”

This one was almost mocking, and the creature stared as though it was looking into Lucius’s soul.

“DEATH!” it parroted, almost as though it was passing judgement on him.

Before he could even consider reacting, the raven vanished before his eyes in a puff of black smoke, and in a panic, Lucius found himself sprinting again, this time not stopping until he had slammed the door to his home behind him.

(Break)

“You have my apologies for being late,” Dumbledore offered as he entered his office, the venue for this evening’s meeting of the Order. “Something has required my attention which will become known to you before this meeting is concluded.”

Dismissive murmurs were returned to the headmaster as he took his seat behind his desk.

If anything, Dumbledore was early as their meetings were usually held much later than 4pm in the afternoon.

“Firstly, I believe congratulations are in order,” he began, his eyes twinkling merrily in Harry’s direction, “to Lord Peverell on the announcement of his impending nuptials. I wish you the very best.”

The other Order members offered Harry a polite round of applause with Edgar slapping him smartly on the shoulder.

“Of course, the announcement came by way of your attendance at another wedding,” Dumbledore continued seriously. “Was there anything you were able to discover that could prove useful?”

“I don’t know about Harry,” Edgar broke in, “but Amelia compiled a list of people she believes we should be aware of,” he informed them, producing a piece of parchment from within his robes. “Some of the names here are rather surprising and equally worrying.”

Dumbledore took the proffered list and scanned it, frowning deeply as he did so.

“Indeed, some are a cause for concern,” he mumbled. “Amelia is a very sharp woman and she would not have included them without cause. Lord Peverell, were there any people you feel we should make a conscious effort to avoid drawing the suspicion of?”

Harry nodded thoughtfully. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for since he had first met with the headmaster.

“The Lestranges are certainly involved as I believe are the Malfoys,” he replied.

“That’s not so surprising,” Dorcas Meadowes pointed out.

“No, it isn’t,” Harry agreed, “but I believe I have identified others through my own observations, the most concerning of which being Barty Crouch’s son.”

A collective gasp of disbelief could be heard at his declaration, with many of the Order members looking at him expectantly.

“What brings Barty Jr under your suspicion, Lord Peverell?” Dumbledore pressed.

“He was at the wedding and spent much of his time with the Lestranges and several others I have been watching. It is too coincidental for him not to be involved. At the very least, we must be cautious. Barty may be beyond reproach but his son is not.”

“Amelia has noted the same concerns,” Dumbledore sighed. “It is most worrisome as he is in a rather unique position to gain information for the Dark Lord,” he mused aloud.

“He was at the wedding also,” Harry revealed, garnering questioning looks from the Order members. “In disguise, of course, but he was the first to congratulate me on my engagement.”

“Are you certain it was him?” Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded.

“I would recognise his magic and his voice anywhere.”

“What did he say to you?” Benjy Fenwick asked.

“He made it abundantly clear that he would be interested in speaking with me in the future,” Harry answered honestly. “That will never happen. I would sooner be killed than align myself with him.”

The gathered Order members nodded their agreement.

“So, we have a list of people, but what can we do with it?” Caradoc questioned.

“Sadly, very little,” Dumbledore sighed. “Unless they are caught in the act of harming innocent people, they are too well protected. We find ourselves in a very difficult position, and not an enviable one.”

“Then we continue as we have and hope we can apprehend one of the buggers,” Edgar interjected.

Dumbledore nodded.

“Which has given me an idea that could solve a problem I have and also provides a possible future opportunity should things deteriorate more so,” he mused aloud. “It pertains to the reason why I am late. Today, there was a very unpleasant event that happened within the castle. As such, our Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor has resigned with immediate effect.”

“What happened, Albus?” Dorcas Meadowes enquired.

“The poor fellow was attacked in the corridor by a yet unidentified group of students. We have our suspicions as to who was behind it but by the time we caught up with them, any evidence was disposed of.”

“The poor man,” Meadowes sighed. “I am failing to see, however, how that could coincide with a possible plan.”

“Well,” Dumbledore said thoughtfully as he tugged at his beard, “the Dark Lord has approached Lord Peverell with the intention of speaking to him later. That means that he is not yet aware of your affiliation with us,” he explained, looking at Harry, who did not like where this conversation was going.

“It does,” he agreed reluctantly.

“I know it is much to ask this of you, but I would consider it a favour if you were to fill the position of our Defence Professor. Please, listen to my reasoning before speaking.”

Harry frowned but allowed the man to continue.

“Your reputation alone would deter any such action being taken against you from this group of students, whom I believe are intent on joining the Dark Lord’s ranks upon completion of their schooling. When he learns of your placement, they will be specifically instructed, in an indirect manner, of course, to not antagonise you.”

“That is rather clever,” Minerva piped up.

“It also distances Lord Peverell far enough away from us that we could perhaps take advantage of the Dark Lord’s interest in him if necessary,” Benjy added. “He’d just have to be certain to not be too flattering of Albus.”

“That wouldn’t be difficult,” Harry grumbled, glaring at the headmaster who appeared to be amused.

“Excellent,” Dumbledore declared, “and you do have my apologies, but the Dark Lord is aware of all other members here other than Arthur, who has his own role within the Ministry. He would be displeased by any of them being appointed. With you, the students causing us concern would be kept in line on two fronts.”

Harry huffed irritably but nodded his acceptance of the logic behind the decision. It was not lost on him, however, that it presented the perfect opportunity for Dumbledore to keep a closer eye on him also, something that he had no doubt the man was fully aware of.

“Have you any teaching experience, Lord Peverell?”

“I have,” he answered, his months instructing several students in the DA coming to mind.

“OWLs and NEWTs?” McGonagall pressed.

“An O in both for Defence.”

The Deputy-Headmistress hummed as she turned her attention towards Dumbledore.

“I see no issue in his appointment until the end of term at the very least.”

“Then it is settled, should you accept, of course, Lord Peverell.”

Harry wanted to decline the man purely out of principle, but his thoughts turned to what he could gain from being here. One thing came to mind and he immediately knew he could not deny himself the opportunity.

Both his mother and father were here, and though they could never know who he had once been, he could not say no.

“I accept,” he returned, already questioning his decision.

“Excellent, then we shall head to the Great Hall after the meeting to announce it to the students at dinner.”

Harry released a deep breath as the other Order members gave him a round of applause.

He didn’t know how Narcissa would take the news. Perhaps he should have spoken to her first or at least slept on it?

(Break)

“Smug gits,” James muttered, eying the Slytherin table where Snape, Jugson, the Carrow Twins and the rest of their ilk were seated.

“They’ll get away with it too,” Remus sighed. “They always do.”

“Looks like we will get a free period again until he’s replaced,” Peter broke in with a shrug.

James despised the Slytherin students, not just for the house they were in but how they treated others and were never punished for it. At worst, they would be given a detention when they should be expelled. The moment him, Sirius, Remus and Peter stepped out of line, McGonagall was there to administer much harsher punishments for lesser deeds than those clad in green and gold.

“Well, at least we haven’t got OWLs this year,” Sirius pointed out. “Oh, there’s Dumbledore.”

“He doesn’t look happy, does he?” James whispered as the headmaster raised a hand for silence.

“As I am sure you are aware, a rather unpleasant incident took place today within these very walls,” he began severely. “I would like to think that it is not something that will be repeated again.”

James glared once more at the Slytherin table where many of them were grinning triumphantly.

“Unfortunately, Professor Wilkes will not be returning to the school, however, I have secured a very suitable replacement.”

“That was fast,” Sirius whispered, many other students also voicing the same opinion amongst their own groups.

“I am sure you will join me in welcoming our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Lord Peverell.”

Stunned silence followed the headmaster’s announcement as the man himself entered with an eerie raven perched on his shoulder, the white eyes of the bird sweeping over the students.

“Oh, shit,” Sirius said much louder than he had intended.

“Professor Peverell will be joining us from Monday and I am sure you will all benefit from his expertise. Do enjoy the rest of your meal,” Dumbledore urged, his smile as bright as ever as he took his leave.

Peverell continued to eye the students and they were all seemingly transfixed on him.

“DEATH!” his raven squawked, startling them.

“Not today, Olin,” Peverell replied, smirking as he stroked the bird’s feathers before he too left the Great Hall.

When he was gone, the chattering started and both James and Sirius laughed heartily.

“Bloody hell, I thought I was going to shit myself,” Peter whimpered. “Isn’t he the bloke that offed Avery at St Mungo’s?”

“And almost killed my cousin Bellatrix,” Sirius sighed wistfully. “I’d like to see the pricks over there try their shit with him.”

“Do you know him?” Lily asked from where she was sat with Alice and Marlene further down the table.

“Know him? He’s probably the coolest person I know other than me,” Sirius declared. “Even if he is marrying my cousin.”

“Your cousin?” James queried, a frown marring his features.

“Yeah, he’s marrying Narcissa,” Sirius huffed. “He must be a bloody nutter.”

“Narcissa’s not so bad. At least he’s not marrying Bellatrix.”

“Thank Merlin,” Sirius grumbled.

“So, what’s he like?” Lily asked. “Will he be a good Professor?”

“Well, he knows how to handle himself. Haven’t you heard of him?”

Lily shook her head.

“Muggleborn, remember,” she reminded them.

“Go on, James, tell dear Evans all about our new defence Professor,” Sirius encouraged.

James shrugged and filled the redhead in on what she had missed.

“That can’t be true,” she denied. “You’re making it up.”

James snorted.

“He went on trial for killing Avery and we witnessed the duel between him and Bellatrix,” he added, gesturing between himself and Sirius. “Peverell is the real deal.”

“His bird is creepy,” Marlene declared.

“Olin’s alright as long as you don’t look at him or let him in during breakfast time,” Sirius said dismissively. “Did you know, he lives in Peverell’s skin?”

“He does not,” Remus huffed incredulously.

“He bloody does!” Sirius retorted.

“He does,” James confirmed. “We saw it when he had dinner with us and my parents.”

“What kind of magic is that?” Lily asked.

James shrugged.

“I don’t know but he does stuff that I’ve never even heard of. You should research his family, Evans. There’s some messed up stories about them.”

“I will,” Lily assured him, evidently believing that James was exaggerating.

“This is going to be good,” the Potter heir said gleefully. “I just hope the gits over there try something. Peverell will wipe the floor with them.”

(Break)

Narcissa could only breath a sigh of relief as her shift at St Mungo’s came to an end, the night having proved to be a difficult one. It had been no busier than normal, in truth, as far as night shifts went, this had been rather tame. The reason for such relief came courtesy of a patient that had been brought in.

She was no different to many she had treated over the past months, but it was her sudden appearance that had caught Narcissa off guard. Like others that had come before her, she had been violated in the most abhorrent of ways. The difference in her case was that this had not occurred during an attack carried out by the pureblood movement. There hadn’t been one of those for some time. No, this muggle woman had been targeted, victimised and left for days without treatment.

The aurors had been alerted to the area via the magical sensors they use to track activity of witches and wizards in areas of the country. As it was only a single apparation, the case had not been prioritised and it had taken some time to find her.

Narcissa could only imagine the horror she had endured.

She had been young too, close to her own age and of a somewhat similar appearance. It only served to remind her how dangerous this world could be.

According to the auror that had escorted the woman in, they were taking this very seriously having extracted the woman’s memory of what happened. It was not often such an approach was taken but she had been all but catatonic.

Narcissa had done all she could to help her, had purged her system of the potions she had been forced to ingest and healed her physical wounds. In most cases, she was loath to alter memories of these women, but she did so without reluctance. It would be best if she did not remember what was done to her. It would only haunt the young woman.

She hoped that whoever had carried out such acts on the muggle was caught and punished to the full extent of the law. Narcissa had no love for those without magic but none deserved what this, and many other women had been subjected to.

She felt better now that she was out of the corridors of the hospital and knew she should go home, but she didn’t feel like being alone, not when there was someone who could help her put this awful night behind her.

With a sad smile, she apparated away from her usual alleyway and appeared on the beach just a short walk away from Harry’s tent, pausing as she noticed a lone figure in the distance staring out across the sea with his wand in hand.

She watched curiously as he raised it and flinched as a bolt of green lightning crackled from the end. As it struck the ocean, it displaced a considerable amount of water, but Harry did not remain idle.

With an elaborate motion, the water coalesced into an enormous cloaked being clutching a scythe that it swung towards an invisible foe. What made the sight only more impressive were the waves of green magic flowing through it, sparking and snapping with more forks of lightning.

Narcissa would not pretend to understand such magic but she knew it was dangerous and she could only look on worriedly as the figure exploded and formed into dozens of ravens that began flying closely around Harry, the watery, pulsating birds lighting up his features as they glowed ominously with that same green energy.

He seemed oddly at ease, his eyes following them until he suddenly snatched one of his creations from the air and held it, his eyes now the eerie white she had only seen twice before.

With a nod, he hurled the ball of magic towards a large rock that exploded and green forks of lightning shot out in all directions, scorching the sand around him. Narcissa could only shake her head. Her future husband was a very dangerous man, but it only made her feel safer.

“And just what was that?” she questioned as she reached him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Just something I’ve been working on,” he muttered, surveying the damage around them.

With a final wave of his wand, the rest of the still circling ravens vanished and he turned to greet her, gently pressing his lips against her own.

Narcissa nodded, taking in his appearance.

There were not many that would believe Harry wielded magic the way he did, not with those warm, green eyes and the way he was smiling at her.

“You’re quite terrifying, you know,” she sighed before resting her head against his chest.

“Only because I have to be,” he whispered.

“I know.”

They remained that way for some time until Narcissa reluctantly pulled away and cupped his cheek.

“Just be careful, Harry.”

He nodded, took her by the hand and led her into the tent and out of the chill of winter morning. Seemingly, he knew that she would come here when her shift was finished as there was a steaming pot of tea waiting for her on the table.

“Bad night?” he asked.

“It was, but I don’t want to talk about it,” she replied, pouring herself a cup. “I’d rather leave it where it is.”

He nodded his understanding and took the seat next to hers.

“I do have some news,” he revealed, “whether it is a good or bad thing, I don’t know yet.”

“What is it?” Narcissa asked, warming her hands with her mug and taking a sip of the hot liquid.

“Dumbledore has asked me to fill in as the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor for the rest of the term,” he explained. “There was an incident at the castle and the current one left. I suspect he wants someone who won’t be easily intimidated by the purebloods there.”

Narcissa nodded thoughtfully, before a bright smile tugged at her lips.

“And you accepted?”

“I did.”

She placed her tea on the table and climbed into his lap, placing her arms around his neck.

“How could that be a bad thing?” she asked. “You will be brilliant. When do you start?”

“On Monday,” Harry replied, taken aback by how easily she had accepted it.

“Is this what you want to do?”

He shrugged uncertainly.

“It’s not something I’ve ever thought about,” he answered honestly. “It just happened really suddenly.”

“Then you have the rest of the school year to decide,” Narcissa comforted. “If you find that it is not for you, you don’t have to stay on if the opportunity is offered. At worst, you’ll figure out that it is not what you want, and you can move on.”

“That’s true,” Harry conceded.

“You could really do a lot of good there, Harry. Defence at Hogwarts has been so inconsistent over the years and it is what you’re best at. If it had been potions on the other hand…”

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she took off, giggling as he gave chase.

She had barely made it to the other side of the room before he caught her, and she cursed the fact that running was something he took very seriously.

“What are you going to do, Harry?” she challenged.

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

She nodded, smirking as she kissed him and any thoughts of vengeance he may have had, were all but forgotten.

(Break)

“Come, Peverell,” the figure instructed.

As he had previously, Harry followed, wondering why he found himself here once more. It had been some time since the two of them had convened and he had not expected to again so soon.

“I see that you are adjusting to your new life,” it commented. “A job, a wife and you have been preparing for what is to come.”

“I have,” Harry acknowledged warily.

“Fear not, Peverell, I am not here to take any of those away from you, if anything, you have surprised me, but I respect your choices. Remember, the only thing set in stone is that you will meet with Riddle and one of you will die. I have made no secret that I would prefer it to be him first. Make no mistake, your turn will come, as will every other of your kind. I simply cannot abide those that would attempt to flee from me. Death is a beautiful thing, Peverell, the end of one sometimes torturous journey into an eternity of bliss.”

“Then why have you brought me here?”

“The very same reason I called you to me in the first place. Balance,” the cloaked figure returned. “The balance still remains rather skewed against you. You have taken steps but so has he. Your enemies grow as his allies increase, and yet, he is not content. Still he seeks immortality.”

“I am trying,” Harry huffed.

“You are,” the figure agreed, “but fate remains a cruel mistress. I simply wish to ensure the balance. There must always be balance, Peverell.”

“What would you have me do?”

“You have already been doing what is needed. The three souls you carry have been becoming one and you are now ready to proceed.”

“Proceed?”

“Listen to the whispers, Peverell,” the figure urged, pointing towards the veil.

“Unite us, Harry…”

“The book, find the book…”

“We must be one…”

“I don’t know what they mean.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do,” the figure replied almost amusedly. “The first and last are almost done and will take only a little work from me and some from yourself. I can finish mine now, but you will need the book for the last.”

“What is the book?”

“A gift of my own to your line, Peverell, though with three brothers claiming a trinket of mine each, they could never fully utilise them as you can. The wand, the stone, and the cloak are quite the marvel alone but together they make…”

“The master of death,” Harry cut in irritably.

“No,” the figure denied. “Death can be mastered by none. I am as inevitable as I am eternal. So long as souls need harvesting, I will remain. The hallows will truly make you what men fear most but can never truly avoid.”

Harry frowned.

“Death?”

“Not quite me, but my chosen,” the figure explained. “You shall wield my magic and carry out my will, for when tyrants rise, many fall. You will be the needed balance.”

“And the book…”

“Will help you. To find it, you must simply go to where your ancestors are buried, and it will present itself to you. Three brothers for three sections of the book, but your soul must be one and given my blessing.”

“That sounds ominous.”

The figure nodded.

“It is, but the time will come soon enough. You will know when, you will feel it and the magic will call to you. Until then, beware of your enemies, Peverell. Men are foolish and not all will heed the word of their betters.”

“I will,” Harry assured the figure.

“Now, my work must be done, but you will return when you are ready. Prepare yourself, this will likely be unpleasant. The wand has served you well until now, but the magic must become your own.”

Harry had no time to react as the figure plunged an icy hand into his chest, eliciting a scream of agony from him. He felt the familiar coldness spread throughout his body as it was overwhelmed with the magic, only this time it was much stronger than he had ever felt.

With a final push from the figure and another scream, the world around him faded.

(Break)

Narcissa was startled awake by a scream and the sound of Harry hitting the floor with a dull thud. Immediately, she shot out of bed to see him twitching, his body covered in a layer of perspiration and his teeth gritted.

She had witnessed his bad dreams before, but nothing like this.

Carefully, so not to jolt him, she touched his chest gently, only to pull her hand back quickly, the second scream he unleashed having little to do with it. He was cold, colder than anything she had ever touched and if she was not witnessing his frantic breathing, she would think him dead.

“Harry!” she pleaded desperately, throwing caution to the wind and shaking him by the shoulder.

He stilled and his face relaxed, though his breathing remained laboured.

“Harry?”

“I’ll be alright,” he whispered. “Just his magic.”

“Who’s magic?” she asked.

“Mine.”

Narcissa frowned.

He was delirious from whatever had happened, but his body seemed to be warming up and he was no longer experiencing pain. Working in St Mungo’s, she had learned what different screams meant and neither of Harry’s had been born of fear. They were pained screams, though he showed no signs of injury.

Noticing he had fallen asleep once more, she gently levitated him back on the bed and sat next to him, her eyes roaming over his youthful features.

Just what had he endured throughout his life to be terrorised so when he rested?

There was so much she did not know about him; what it was that haunted him and had made him who he was.

What she did know, however, was that she had come to love him, his sarcastic and teasing humour, just everything and she wished she could take it all away, all the things that he carried and all that had caused him such pain.

He remained motionless until past midday. When he did stir and his eyes opened, they were as white as Olin’s for a few moments before they reverted to their natural green state.

“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly.

Many times over the intervening hours before he’d screamed and now, she had considered sending for help, even for her Aunt Dorea who would at least be able to remain calm where Narcissa couldn’t. It had been endless worry she had endured, and she choked a sigh of relief as he looked at her and nodded.

“I’m fine,” he assured her uncertainly as he sat up. “Never better.”

Oddly, he seemed to mean the latter and she could not resist the urge to pull him into her arms.

“You scared me.”

He nodded against her neck.

“I’m sorry.”

“What happened to you?”

“I don’t know.”

A half-truth this time, but he appeared to be fine. He was no longer cold, and the fever had passed quickly. She was not satisfied with the answer, but she would not press the issue, not yet.

Maybe one day he would be able to explain to her just what it was that plagued him. For now, he was with her still and that was all she wished to think about in that moment.