Written in the Stars - The Truth Beyond Dreams

The Truth Beyond Dreams

December 1992

“Are you sure about this, Harry?” Cain asked nervously whilst they laid in wait in the common room. “They will be furious with you.”

“Don’t worry, Wolfie,” Harry said dismissively. “I’ll take the blame for this one.”

“It was your idea,” Cain huffed.

“Yeah, but if he said it was yours, they’d probably believe him,” Bruno snorted amusedly.

Cain looked affronted by the very notion but didn’t comment further, choosing instead to pout petulantly.

Harry knew he would get the blame, but he didn’t mind.

With the additional subjects they were studying and the extra homework to complete, everyone had been given something of a pass from his mischief since they’d returned to Durmstrang, but that would change shortly.

“I think they’re coming,” Cain whispered.

Harry merely nodded as he pretended to read through his Transfiguration homework that he had already completed.

His attention, however, was on the sound of the approaching voices, and despite his best efforts, he could not prevent a grin from forming.

As planned, a loud bang echoed throughout the common room followed by a trio of surprised yelps.

When the resulting smoke cleared, Harry finally looked towards the disturbance and laughed along with the rest of his housemates.

Standing next to one another were three girls dressed in matching green outfits with red and white stripy socks. The ensemble was complete with a pointed hat, decorated with a jingling bell.

“You have no idea how offensive this is to my people,” Ana sighed, though a smile tugged at her lips as she flicked the bell.

Summerbee squealed with excitement as she began throwing handfuls of glitter over the other two, but Lucinda was motionless, her red eyes boring into Harry’s own amused ones.

“I’ll kill you, Potter,” she declared in a deadly whisper. “I will drain you of every drop of blood you have and then I will hang your desiccated corpse in my room.”

“Don’t you mean shed?” Harry quipped.

Lucinda bared her fangs and licked her lips as she stepped forward.

“You’d better run, Harry,” Cain urged.

Harry didn’t need telling twice and leapt over the back of the chair he was seated on and sprinted towards the door to make his escape.

Before he managed to clear half the room, he felt something impact against him and he found himself face down on the ground.

A pair of powerful hands spun him and he was quickly looking into the eyes of his pursuer.

Lucinda’s face was only an inch from his own, and though she was glaring at him, it was her fangs that Harry was focused on.

“How did you get me so quickly?” he groaned.

“I’m a vampire,” Lucinda reminded him. “No mortal will ever outrun me.”

“I’ve done it several times,” Harry pointed out.

Lucinda giggled as she shook her head.

“Only because I let you,” she murmured. “Now, undo what you have done to me, and I might not kill you.”

“I can’t,” Harry replied with a laugh. “It will wear off after two hours.”

“Two hours?” Lucinda growled.

Harry swallowed deeply as he nodded.

“Then you will be explaining to my mother why I am dressed this way,” she decided. “Up you get.”

Harry felt himself pulled to his feet, another reminder of just how strong the girl was.

“Not your mother,” he protested weakly.

“Is there something wrong with my mother?” Lucinda asked, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

To prevent himself from finding further amusement at her appearances, Harry peered over her shoulder towards the others, something he wished he hadn’t done.

Cain and Bruno were blowing kisses and waving at him whilst Ana and Eleanor were doing nothing to hide their own humour.

“She’s scarier than you,” Harry finally answered.

Lucinda nodded.

“Maybe next time you will reconsider your own stupidity. I doubt it, but I may be surprised,” she mused aloud. “Come along, Potter, Mummy Vampire won’t want to be kept waiting.”

Without further preamble, she pulled him towards the door he had attempted to flee through only moments prior, followed by the rest of the group that would be returning home for the Christmas holidays.

“Tough break, Potter,” Cain commented. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

“It was your idea!” Harry returned.

“Is that so?” Ana questioned.

“He’s lying!” Cain defended. “He only told us about it this morning,” he explained, gesturing between himself and Bruno. “Tell her.”

Bruno held up his hands.

“I’m not getting involved,” he declared with a shake of his head.

“Ow!” Cain whimpered as Ana flicked his earlobe.

“That’s just in case you did have any hand in it,” she muttered. “You at least knew about what he was planning.”

“Fair enough,” Cain conceded as he rubbed his ear as Harry shot him a smirk.

“It’s nice to see that you have gotten over the trauma of speaking to my mother,” Lucinda commented.

Harry’s grin fell as he was dragged into the courtyard for the second year in a row, and Cassiopeia rolled her eyes at him seemingly not needing to question what it was he had done to be given such treatment this time around.

“You look…festive,” Lucinda’s mother commented with a quirked brow.

Lucinda scowled at Harry.

“Potter here is going to explain why that is,” she informed her mother. “Go ahead, Harry, tell my mother what you did,” she added, pushing him forward.

Harry met the gaze of the older vampire.

She was a strikingly beautiful woman, terrifying to behold, but beautiful nonetheless, from her pale skin, dark, luscious hair, and curious expression.

“I might have pranked her and the other girls,” Harry admitted sheepishly.

The woman hummed thoughtfully.

“And what did my daughter do in return?”

“She threatened to drain me of every drop of blood and hang my desiccated corpse in her room.”

The woman giggled and looked towards Lucinda proudly before stooping over until her lips were almost pressed against Harry’s ear.

“Then you should feel fortunate that it was merely a threat, Mr Potter,” she whispered. “It is never a good idea to provoke the ire of one of our kind.”

“She likes it really,” Harry replied. “The threat of violence is all part of the fun.”

The woman offered him a smile as she stood straight once more.

“You do not fear her?”

Harry shook his head.

“Do you fear me?”

“You’re frightening,” Harry acknowledged, “but if you were to follow through with any of the threats that Lucinda made, I’d have no complaints about dying in such a way.”

“Harry!” Lucinda gasped.

The others that had followed looked on in a mix of shock and amusement as the woman stared at him questioningly before joining in the merriment with a tinkling laughter of her own.

“You have a certain charm about you, Mr Potter,” she sighed, “but perhaps my husband would not be so accommodating to your wit. He is deathly possessive over me.”

“Then I’m grateful he’s not here,” Harry replied with a bow. “I will remember to watch my tongue, if I ever have the pleasure of meeting him.”

“Oh, he would be most interested in making your acquaintance,” the woman assured him. “Particularly with how Lucinda has taken to you. Come along, child. Let us not keep Mr Potter away from his aunt any longer.”

“I’m really going to kill you one day,” Lucinda whispered as she passed Harry.

Harry only responded with a wave before the duo vanished before turning towards the rest of his friends.

“My mother is waiting for me,” Eleanor declared, pointing towards the familiar woman Harry had met the previous year. “Bye Harry.”

She wrapped her arms around him briefly and kissed him on the cheek before running towards her mother and Cain shook his head.

“I see a lot of trouble in your future where girls are concerned,” he predicted.

“I didn’t know you were a seer,” Harry replied dryly. “Where’s your mother? Maybe I can charm her next.”

“I doubt that,” Cain snorted. “The full moon is in a few days. She won’t be in the mood to play nice with you.”

“I’ll give it a miss then,” Harry chuckled as he clapped the werewolf on the back. “Have a good break.”

Cain nodded and both he and Bruno left, leaving Harry alone with Ana.

“You can meet my mother and father if you like?” she offered.

“They won’t threaten me with violence, will they?” Harry asked. “I’ve had enough of that for one day.”

Ana laughed as she shook her head as she took him by the hand.

“My people are peaceful unless we are given a reason not to be.”

“Thank Merlin for that,” Harry muttered. “I didn’t want to have to shop for a tombstone for myself this year.”

Ana rolled her eyes at him.

“You’re so dramatic, Harry,” she snorted. “Here they are.”

Harry would never have put the two people in front of him together in any sense, let alone as a married couple.

The man was average looking, middle-aged, and with a slight paunch. His hair was a darker shade of brown than his daughter’s, but that was seemingly the only physical trait that was similar.

The woman was almost as pale as Lucinda and her mother, but where the vampires had an air of aloofness about them, the elf radiated a warmth.

She was almost ethereal, and the air around her seemed to glow.

Ana looked just like her, the only difference being that her mother’s hair was a bright silver instead of the mahogany of her daughter.

“Mum, this is Harry,” Ana introduced him.

The elf stared at him speculatively for a moment before offering him a bow.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Harry.”

Her voice was songlike and seemed to carry a slight echo to it.

“The pleasure is mine,” Harry replied cordially, returning a respectful bow of his own.

“Ana has told us much about you, and you have already honoured my people with the gift you gave her last year.”

Harry nodded.

“Honestly, I didn’t fully understand what it was I had given,” he admitted. “Not that I wouldn’t have done so if I did.”

Ana’s mother laughed.

“Nonetheless, our leader is most impressed with you,” she explained. “As am I and my husband.”

Harry turned his attention towards the wizard and offered his hand.

“It is nice to meet you, sir,” he said sincerely. “Maybe you can teach me one day how to get out of trouble with an irritated elf.”

The man chuckled as he shook his head.

“I would be useless to you, Mr Potter,” he snorted. “I have not figured that out for myself yet.”

“Then I will have to get used to being in trouble then,” Harry murmured.

“Or you could stop doing things to get yourself in trouble,” Ana suggested.

“That would be the sensible thing to do.”

“But you’re not sensible,” Ana huffed. “Have a good holiday, Harry,” she added with a grin before she and her parents took their leave.

Finally left alone, Harry made his way over to a waiting Cassiopeia who greeted him with a tight embrace.

“A good start to the year?” she asked.

Harry nodded.

“Not bad,” he mused aloud, “but I’m looking forward to some time away.”

“Then let’s go home,” Cassie urged. “I will never get used to the cold.”

Harry laughed heartily.

He never thought that he would either but having been at Durmstrang for more than a year now, the cold no longer bothered him as it once had.

(Break)

Pansy breathed a sigh of relief as she boarded the train to leave Hogwarts for the next two weeks. After the incident on Halloween, the atmosphere around the school had been tense, and with two more attacks following in the intervening months, the mood had grown sombre.

A first year Gryffindor and second year Hufflepuff were now in the Hospital Wing, petrified according to what little Dumbledore had told the students.

Of course, speculation as to who was behind the attacks was rife, but no one knew what was happening or how the incidents were being perpetrated.

Ron Weasley was adamant that Draco was the apparent heir of Slytherin, something that only added to her housemate’s already inflated ego.

Pansy and the others knew for certain he wasn’t, but Draco had done nothing to dispel the accusation, and even basked in the fantasy that he was somehow connected to such a prominent family.

“It’s a shame to be leaving when the school year is so exciting,” Draco drawled whimsically.

“I thought you were staying,” Pany replied.

“I was, but I changed my mind,” Draco shrugged. “As soon as I learned that Weasel would be there, I wrote to my father to change my plans.”

Pansy nodded whilst Crabbe and Goyle chuckled dimly to themselves.

“Never mind, I’m sure the fun will continue when we return,” Draco continued as he leaned back in his chair. “I wonder what mudblood will be next. I personally hope it is Granger.”

Pansy said nothing, not wanting to encourage a rant on just how inferior the girl was despite her being leagues above Draco in every subject.

No, remaining silent was always best around the blonde unless she wished to be treated to a declaration of just how great Draco was.

Daphne, however, was not of a similar disposition, and any chance she got to irritate the boy, she took gleefully.

“Didn’t Granger get the best grades last year?” she asked airily.

Draco, as expected, bristled and rose to the bait as Daphne smirked to herself.

“Granger is a filthy mudblood that shouldn’t even be at Hogwarts,” he spat. “The sooner the heir of Slytherin deals with her, the better.”

His ranting continued, and Pansy busied herself by reading her charms text.

Anything to drown out Draco’s irritating voice.

Still, she only needed to endure his company until they arrived in London, and then she would be at home with her mother and father before visiting Harry, something that never failed to lift her mood.

Even so, she still wished he would have opted to come to Hogwarts.

Things would be different with him there, of that, she had no doubt.

(Break)

Cassie watched as Harry ate the beef stew that Elgar had prepared for his return home, smiling approvingly when the boy praised the waiting elf. The two were deeply fond of one another, and Cassie knew that although Elgar would never forget Arcturus, he would serve Harry just as loyally.

She took a mouthful of her own food, lamenting at the changes she saw in the boy.

Harry seemed to be growing every time she saw him now.

One day, he would come home and would no longer be a boy.

A part of her dreaded that, but she also knew that when that time came, he would no longer be so vulnerable to those that wished him harm.

“Do you have any news to share?” she asked.

Harry shook his head.

“Not really,” he answered, “not anything I haven’t already told you about in the three letters a week I send.”

Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes at the boy.

“You can always stop writing,” she huffed.

A flash of sadness crossed his features before he realised that she was jesting and the look was replaced with a teasing one of his own.

“Oh, Cass, if I did that, you’d be knocking the front door of the school down.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nodded as he helped himself to some extra bread.

“Yes,” he said simply. “As much as you complain about me, you’d be lost without me.”

His words could not hold any more truth, and the mere thought of not having him filled the woman with dread.

As challenging as it had been at times, Harry had changed her life for the better, and Cassiopeia did not know what she would do without him.

“See, you don’t even have an argument to counter with,” the boy pointed out, grinning in his infuriatingly charming way.

“Be quiet and eat your dinner,” Cassie huffed.

Harry beamed victoriously and continued eating.

“There is something I have been meaning to ask you,” Cassie spoke once more after a moment.

“What’s that?”

“The dreams you had over the summer,” Cassie replied, seeing no reason to delay the inevitable.

“My dreams?” Harry asked cautiously.

“The man with the purple turban.”

Harry’s expression darkened at the mention.

“How do you know about that?”

Cassie offered him a sympathetic smile.

“I’ve been checking on you every night since you came here, Harry,” she explained. “You talk when you have nightmares.”

“How do you know it was a nightmare?”

“Because you do not rest peacefully when you have unpleasant dreams.”

Harry nodded his understanding.

“What do you want to know about him?”

“I’m just curious,” Cassiopeia replied. “Why were you dreaming about it?”

Harry shrugged, his cheeky, lively demeanour all but having evaporated.

Cassie hated seeing him like this, but it was necessary.

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I was dreaming about him, and he had another person hiding inside him. I haven’t had those dreams for a while now.”

“But you have different dreams?”

Reluctantly, Harry nodded.

“Now, I see a redheaded girl,” he murmured confusedly. “At first, I thought…”

He broke off almost ashamedly.

“You thought she was your mother?”

“Yes,” Harry confirmed sadly, “but it’s not her. It’s a different girl, and she writes in a black book, a diary, I think. It’s either that, or she is standing in a bathroom next to a column of sinks. Why are you asking?”

“Because you should always talk to me about them, Harry,” Cassiopeia replied, feeling guilty for tricking the boy. “It helps to talk about these things. You know that.”

Harry deflated as he pushed his plate.

“I know,” he muttered as he left the room, and Cassie’s guilt only increased knowing she had spoiled the rest of his evening.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she headed towards her study.

For what good it would do, she needed to write to Dumbledore to inform him of what Harry had revealed.

If it helped with whatever was occurring at Hogwarts, she knew that Harry would understand, and if not, no harm had truly been done.

Nonetheless, Cassie felt as though she was betraying his confidence, and she would not be doing so again, not for Dumbledore, nor for any other.

(Break)

December 23, 1992

The letter he’d received from Cassiopeia Black itself had been unexpected, and the contents contained within even more so. Albus was left with no doubt to whom the mentioned redheaded girl referred to as there was only one student that matched the description that Harry had provided.

With the seemingly unwitting perpetrator identified, he knew he needed to act quickly.

The girl was in the castle for the holidays with the rest of her school-age siblings, but Albus needed to handle the matter as delicately as possible.

As such, he had requested the presence of the girl’s parents who would be arriving imminently.

Arthur and Molly would be distraught when they learned the truth of what Ginevra had been exposed, if Albus’s suspicions proved to be correct.

Just as concerning as the diary itself, was just how the girl had come to possess it.

Such an object was not something that was handled negligently.

No, someone had purposely ensured Ginny Weasley had been given the diary, and though there were numerous suspects at large who would have no hesitation in doing so, Tom would trust few with something of such value to him.

Bellatrix Lestrange would be at the top of that exclusive list, but she had been imprisoned since shortly after the fall of her master.

The only other Albus would consider to be held in similar esteem was a man who had avoided the fate of the woman, and who bore a grudge against the Weasley family.

Not that Albus could prove Lucius’s involvement.

He was far too slippery to allow himself to be caught up in such controversy.

Albus was pulled from his thoughts as the fireplace in his office burst into life, and one after the other, Molly and Arthur Weasley arrived with their eldest son Bill in tow, whom they had been visiting for the holidays.

“Albus,” Arthur greeted him as warmly as ever, though there was more than a hint of concern in his tone.

“Thank you for coming,” the headmaster replied. “I wish what brings you here was not of such severity, but alas, it is quite a terrible business.”

“What is happening?” Molly asked worriedly.

Albus released a deep sigh and gestured for the trio to take a seat.

“There is no easy way to tell you this, but I believe that Ginevra has found herself the victim of a rather sinister ploy. Did she seem not herself shortly before coming to Hogwarts, or in her letters? I believe she will be fine, as soon as the issue is remedied, which is why I asked you here,” he added placatingly.

Molly and Arthur looked towards one another.

“She did seem rather upset,” Arthur acknowledged. “We thought that it was because she realised that Harry Potter wouldn’t be here. She has something of a crush on the boy. Molly has been reading her stories about him since she was a toddler.”

“She was upset,” Molly broke in. “She had her heart set on meeting him. What happened, Albus?”

“Many things that I cannot disclose,” Albus replied, “but Harry is safe and well. He opted to attend a different school.”

The Weasleys were intrigued but did not press for further information.

“What has happened to Ginny?”

“I cannot be completely certain, but I have it on reliable authority that she has come to possess an item that may be influencing her behaviour,” Albus explained. “It is my intention to retrieve it, and I would have you with me whilst I do so. She will likely not part with it willingly.”

“Of course,” Arthur agreed as he stood, followed by his wife and eldest son who had already drawn his wand.

“I do not wish for her to be harmed, but it is possible she will attempt to do so to us,” Albus said gravely as he led them from the office.

They made their way towards Gryffindor Tower in silence, none of the accompanying trio truly knowing what it was they may face.

Albus did not wish to keep the state of the girl from them, but he would do all he could to keep the nature of the item concealed.

Tom could never become aware that his secret was known.

“Headmaster,” the Fat Lady greeted him with a bow. “How may I help you this evening?”

“You merely need to let us pass, my dear,” Albus replied with a smile.

With her cheeks blushing, the portrait swung forward, and Albus drew his wand, deactivating the protections on the girl’s staircase as he did so.

“I would ask that you remain silent,” he whispered as he ascended. “If we can catch her unaware, it would be best for us all.”

The Weasleys were truly worried now, the seriousness of the situation having finally set in, but they said nothing as Albus held a finger to his lips.

They had reached the dorm belonging to the first-year girls, and the headmaster felt fortunate that the others had returned home for the Christmas break.

Carefully, he silenced to door before pushing it open, holding his breath as he approached the only occupied bed within.

The girl, much to his relief, was sleeping soundly, but with Tom Riddle’s influence apparent, Albus was taking no chances.

With a wave of his wand, the sheets she slumbered beneath tightened as Ginevra was hoisted into the air.

She awoke immediately with a murderous scream, her red eyes brimmed with fury as she glared at Albus, her parents, and her brother.

“LET ME GO!” she screeched.

Albus silenced her with another wave of his wand, but Ginevra continued to thrash desperately whilst Molly sobbed.

The headmaster, however, shifted his attention to the bedside table where the girl’s wand was resting atop a black book that had been described in Cassiopeia’s letter.

He summoned the former and handed it to a catatonic Arthur who was attempting to console his wife whilst his fearful gaze was transfixed on his daughter.

Bill too was in a similar state of horror, as Albus would be if the urgency to act quickly wasn’t so prevalent in the moment.

Approaching the trembling diary, he murmured a series of incantations under his breath whilst twirling his wand.

After a moment, the diary was encased in a white glow of magic, and with the connection between it and the girl broken, Ginevra slumped forward.

“NO!” Albus said firmly as Molly rushed forward. “We cannot be certain if the hold on her has been released.”

Molly nodded as tears continued to spill down her cheeks and Albus shifted his attention back to Ginny Weasley, tapping her with his wand as he reached her.

Her eyes fluttered open and Albus was relieved to see they no longer contained the red hue they had only a moment prior.

Instead, they were filled with confusion and a trauma that only such an experience she had endured could leave behind.

“Mum,” Ginny choked.

Molly immediately rushed forward and scooped the girl into her arms.

“What the bloody hell is that thing?” Arthur demanded, his usually kindly nature all but absent in the face of his distressed family.

“An evil object,” Albus answered simply. “A piece of magic she should never have been exposed to. She needs her family, Arthur. I would suggest she is checked over by Poppy before you take her home. From there, she will need specialist care to come to terms with what has happened.”

The redhead nodded.

“A mind healer?”

“Indeed,” Albus confirmed. “Fear not, the school will make the funds available for it, and we will do what we can to ensure her education will not be impacted. Her recovery will take time, Arthur. I am only sorry this was not discovered sooner.”

Arthur swallowed deeply.

“Had you known, you would have fixed it,” he returned with a weak smile.

Albus nodded.

“Nonetheless, you have my apologies still.”

“Who did this?” Bill demanded to know.

Albus released a deep sigh.

“I cannot say for certain, and I’m afraid proving anything will be impossible. We must be content with the fact that we managed to prevent any further damage happening to Ginny.”

“What would have happened to her?” Bill asked.

“I believe the magic of the object would have taken over her completely.”

“So few things could do that,” Bill mused aloud. “I’ve never come across anything like it.”

Albus nodded as he pocketed the diary.

“I can assure you that it will be destroyed as soon as is possible. It will no longer cause Ginny or any other harm again.”

Bill remained thoughtful but pulled Ginny into his arms as she ploughed into him.

“I think we should perhaps take her to the Hospital Wing,” Albus urged. “The sooner we get her the help she needs, the better.”

Arthur nodded his agreement and began shepherding his family from the dormitory, only for the group to be halted by the Weasleys that were also remaining in the castle for the Christmas break, along with a frightened Miss Granger.

“Mother, what is going on?” Percy asked. “Hermione heard screaming.”

“Everything will be explained to you,” Albus placated, “but for now, we must get your sister to the Hospital Wing. She will be fine,” he added, though he couldn’t truly assure them of that.

With what the girl had endured, nothing was certain.

The other children were not satisfied, but they knew better than to argue with Molly when she was so emotional.

Reluctantly, they allowed the group to take their leave of the common room, and Albus deflated as he patted the burden he carried in his pocket.

He would need to speak with Gellert to understand the nature of the Horcrux and what could be done to destroy it.

Albus was not ashamed to admit he was out of his depth here.

No, the only shame he felt was that such a thing could be within the castle walls and he had remained so clueless to its presence.

(Break)

Christmas Eve

Harry allowed the little snake to slither around his arm and between his fingers, an activity the two had been sharing for just shy of a decade since he had discovered the creature living in the garden.

Despite his somewhat sombre mood, a smile crested his lips as he heard a familiar footfall approaching.

“You don’t seem so happy to see me,” Pansy commented sadly.

“Hector is dying,” Harry explained, holding the snake aloft so she could see him.

“Oh no,” Pansy gasped, her expression matching his own immediately.

She had grown fond of the little friend they had found so many years prior now, and stroked his head, much to the delight of the reptile.

“He says that we shouldn’t be sad,” Harry informed her as Hector hissed gently. “He says that he has had a good life and it is just time for him to move on.”

The girl was not really placated by his words and she shook her head.

“You tell him that will be as sad as we like,” she said firmly.

Harry chuckled and repeated her stubborn words, eliciting what he could only deem to be an eye roll from Hector.

“Let me rest, speaker. I am tired now.”

Harry nodded and placed Hector back in his nest.

“I will check on you later and bring you a nice mouse.”

The serpent was already sleeping and offered no response, so Harry left him and returned to the house with Pansy, his thoughts still with his little companion.

“How’s school been?” she asked as they took a seat in front of the fire.

Both went to school in colder climates than what Greece was, but Harry was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, despite it being winter here.

“Not bad,” Harry replied thoughtfully. “The purebloods are still tossers to everyone, but they leave me alone. I think that’s mostly because they don’t want to upset Viktor.”

“He’s the Quidditch player, isn’t he?”

Harry nodded.

“He’s already been picked to play for Bulgaria in the next World Cup.”

“Then he must be good.”

Harry snorted amusedly.

He knew that he was a great flyer, better than most could ever hope to be, but Viktor was something else entirely.

The Bulgarian was all but unstoppable on a broom, and though Harry could keep up with him a minute or so longer than the others that helped Viktor, the boy was so far out of anyone else’s league that their best efforts were little more than a token gesture.

“If the rest of the Bulgarian team are half as good as him, I can’t see anyone standing a chance against them. Anyway, we both know you have no interest in Quidditch,” Harry chuckled. “How have things been for you?”

He frowned as Pansy deflated.

“Not good,” she admitted. “Draco is worse than ever, and someone has apparently opened the Chamber of Secrets. There are two students petrified in the Hospital Wing.”

“The Chamber of Secrets?” Harry murmured.

It sounded familiar to him, but he was certain he’d never heard it mentioned before.

“A secret room that Salazar Slytherin created inside Hogwarts,” Pansy explained. “It is said to contain a monster, but can only be opened by Slytherin’s heir, according to the tales.”

Harry hummed thoughtfully, trying not to get caried away by what was crossing his mind.

“What is being done about it?”

“Dumbledore says he is doing everything he can to put a stop to it,” Pansy shrugged. “We’re not being told much.”

Harry nodded his understanding.

Although he understood why Dumbledore would wish to keep tight-lipped about the occurrences, the students were in more danger than they could know, especially if these attacks were being orchestrated by who Harry believed was behind them.

Over everything that Pansy had told him, one thing seemed to be most important.

Slytherin’s heir.

Perhaps it needn’t be his heir, but merely someone related to him?

Harry didn’t know the current state of the Gaunt family, but they were the last living relatives of the infamous founder, and there was one other whose origins were not established.

Voldemort, at the very least, was a parselmouth, and if there was something Salazar had wanted to keep to himself and his family, using parseltongue to protect it would have been perhaps his greatest asset.

Still, that didn’t explain how people were being petrified.

What monster was capable of such a thing?

Harry frowned as Pansy looked on, the girl knowing him well enough not to interrupt his thought process.

Thinking logically, Harry could only assume that the monster would be a serpent of sorts, but there wasn’t any that would petrify a victim, and so few that could live for what must have been close to a thousand years by now.

No, he was missing vital information, but he had almost all the pieces to put the picture together.

Regardless, every conclusion he could fathom was not good for anyone.

The three snakes he could think of off the top of his head with such longevity were extremely dangerous, one having only ever been spoken of in mythical tales, and Harry doubted that even Salazar Slytherin managed to find a hydra.

That left only two culprits, and one much more likely than the other, though being almost certain of what the beast was did not assuage his concerns at all.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“What is it?” Pansy asked worriedly.

Before Harry could respond, however, Cassiopeia entered the living room and paused as she looked at the concerned children.

“What do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?” Harry asked her.

The woman’s face fell.

“Why do you ask?” she returned cautiously, her gaze shifting towards Pansy.

“Because someone has opened it.”

“I know,” Cassie sighed, “but it has been dealt with now.”

“How do you know that?” Harry pressed suspiciously.

It wasn’t often he saw Cassiopeia so worried, nor had he ever seen her acting so guiltily.

At first, he thought she would make an excuse, or tell him that he was too young to know, but she did no such thing.

Instead, she took a seat by the fire, and held his hand in her own.

“Because it was you that gave me all the information I needed to pass on to Dumbledore to ensure it was handled.”

Both Harry and Pansy looked at the woman in confusion.

“Me?”

Cassiopeia nodded.

“What I am going to tell you goes no further. Is that understood?”

Both of the children acquiesced, and though it was done with no small amount of reluctance, Cassie began an explanation she’d hoped to avoid until he was much older.

However, she would not lie to Harry.

There were already too many secrets being kept from the boy.

“The dreams you have, Harry, are not always just dreams.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked worriedly.

Cassiopeia released a deep breath.

“I don’t understand it entirely, no one does, but the night he came for your parents, there was a magical connection forged between the two of you. Sometimes, when you are asleep, I believe you get glimpses of the things that he is doing.”

Harry swallowed at the explanation.

“So, the fight with Quirrell that I saw…”

“That really happened,” Cassiopeia confirmed.

“And the dream I had last night with the girl…”

“That too. Dumbledore has dealt with the issues with the Chamber, and the girl will be okay, thanks to you.”

Harry didn’t know what to say.

He had so many questions, many of which he knew Cassiopeia wouldn’t be able to answer, but there was one he needed to ask.

“Does that mean he can see what I am doing?”

Cassie could only shrug, though her own expression morphed into one of concern.

“I don’t know, but I would guess that in whatever state he is in, he cannot. For now, he is weak, Harry, and needs others to do his bidding.”

“For now,” Harry pointed out. “He will come back one day, and then what? What if he can just enter my mind whenever he wishes?”

Cassiopeia shook her head.

“Even the most powerful wizard cannot enter the mind of the weakest in such a way so easily,” she explained, “and you are not a weak wizard, Harry. Just because there is a connection, that doesn’t mean either of you will be able to exploit it. If anything, if he becomes aware of it, he will do all he can to keep you out. He has much more to lose than he could hope to gain from you. He will not want his secrets accessed by his biggest threat.”

Harry nodded uncertainly, not mentioning that he had already gained much knowledge already from the connection, knowledge he hadn’t understood how he knew, something that now made sense.

Unwittingly, Lord Voldemort had given Harry more gifts than just the ability to converse with snakes, and though the boy still didn’t understand everything, he knew that all of it would one day become very useful for him.

Still, those were things for him to explore, things he would begin doing so when he returned to Durmstrang.

Voldemort would return one day, and when he did, Harry knew that he needed to be ready for him.

Unbeknownst to the Dark Lord and to everyone else, Cassiopeia was right.

Harry was his biggest threat, and when the time came for the two of them to meet, Harry would not be a defenceless babe in a cot.

No, he would put an end to Voldemort once and for all, and any other that chose to garb themselves in the Death Eater attire.

Oddly, the thought excited the boy, and though he was not foolish enough to not fear Voldemort, the opportunity to tear him limb from limb was something that, deep down, he was greatly anticipating.