Serpent's Bloodline: Legacy of the Basilisk

When Harry finally returned to the common room it was long dark outside and curfew had been so long ago that even the most daring students had found themselves in the safety of the tower long before Harry had even gone near it.

Harry was fuming. In the Headmaster's office he might have given up on arguing with the man but as soon as he had entered the Room of Requirement and with that had left Dumbledore's territory, Harry's fury had returned tenfold. It wasn't the prospect of having to learn Occlumency again that left him burning with rage but the knowledge that someone had tattled on the Headmaster.

And someone had. It wasn't a guess, Harry knew .

If someone hadn't the Headmaster might have been suspicious - would have been suspicious - but he wouldn't have had enough evidence to be sure about that.

And now Harry had Occlumency lessons with Snape of all people!

As if Harry hadn't enough on his plate already!

So Harry had gone to the Room of Requirement and had worked out until he was soaked in sweat and tired enough to drop dead - just to return to the common room and seeing Hermione and Ron waiting for him on one of the sofas.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed when she saw him enter. "Where have you been?"

Harry's first, instinctive reaction was to sneer at her and tell her she had no right to know. But then he stopped. Of course, Hermione had no right to know. She might be a friend but not his mother, on the other hand she was his friend and as a friend she at least had the right to ask.

"Running," Harry answered after contemplating his answer. "I needed to clear my head."

Hermione blinked at his answer, surprise visible in her eyes but it was Ron who told them the obvious. "Harry," he said. "You never ran before when you needed to clear your head."

Harry just sighed and decided that he wouldn't go anywhere until his friends were satisfied with his answer so he plunked down on the sofa next to theirs.

"I didn't have my broom with me and I needed to get out," he said tiredly.

"Harry," this time Hermione's voice sounded hesitant. "What happened?" She stopped for a moment, then continued with a stronger, surer sounding voice. "I know you had detention with Umbridge tonight but what happened afterwards? I mean - she didn't keep you until now, did she?"

Harry was just in time to repress his sneer.

"No," he said, his own voice icy. "The Headmaster called afterwards for a little… chat." His eyes first fixed on Hermione, then on Ron. Hermione and Ron shared a glance and suddenly Harry knew. The fury he had worked of just minutes ago, returned in all its glory. It had been those two in front of him who went to the Headmaster!

"Do you want to tell me something, maybe?" he asked coolly.

"I don't know what-"

"Don't play innocent with me," Harry hissed and the fury he had felt before returned to the open for a moment before he was able to suppress it again. "Someone," he looked from Hermione to Ron and back while he held his temper in check. "Went to Dumbledore and told him that… maybe that I was acting strange or that I changed my behavior with Malfoy or Snape or that I was doing better in a class I hated, who knows! Whatever Dumbledore was told, it gave him the idea that I needed Snape to teach me Occlumency! Now tell me, was it you two who tattled on me?"

The ice of his fury was bleeding in his voice at the end of his tale.

Ron gawked at him.

Hermione looked guilty.

"Harry," she finally said hesitatingly.

"No!" he interrupted her coolly. "No, Hermione! I don't care what you told him, I just care that you did!"

"But, Harry! You are acting strange! You-"

"Then why didn't you come to me?" Harry asked her when the fury he felt left him. Of course, those two in front of him were still children, and children made mistakes, but that didn't excuse their actions. "Why did you run to Dumbledore instead of asking me?"

"Because you wouldn't have told us!" Ron interrupted him. Ron's face was turning red and he was clearly losing his temper. "You never tell us the important things! You just clam up and say nothing! Like last year in the Tournament! Like in second year the Parseltongue! Like-"

"I. Do. Not. Clam. Up!" Harry hissed, the slight hisses of the snake language started to caress his words, adding the musical sound of his native tongue to the spoken English. "I was Muggle-raised, Ron! I did not know about Parseltongue being special! And I definitely did not clam up at the Tournament! You, Ron, were the one who refused to speak to me because you thought I had entered myself in this stupid Tournament! Neither of you ever asked me directly about anything! You just want me to come to you and tell you everything and if I don't you run to the next teacher you can find!"

"That's not true!" Hermione said with huge eyes. "You always refuse to listen! Like the time Sirius send you the Firebolt!"

"And did you ever try to explain to me why you thought the Firebolt was dangerous, Hermione?" Harry asked her softly. "Did you ever share your reason with me before you ran to Professor McGonagall?"

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but instead made the imitation of a gold fish.

"Well, Hermione?" Harry had leaned forward and looked at her with old, cool and tired eyes.

She blinked and then blurted out. "But the Firebolt could have been dangerous!"

"Yes," Harry said. "But you could have told me your reasons before you went and ran to a teacher. You could have talked to me - just like you could have talked to me before you ran to Dumbledore this time around!"

"But… but you were acting strange! With Malfoy! With Snape! And you didn't talk to us like you usually did!" Ron said furiously.

"That might be right," Harry said. "But you simply could have told me that you were worried about me and ask me what is wrong!"

"I asked you what is bothering you and you told me you were fine!" Hermione retorted.

"Yes, you asked me what is bothering me! Have you ever thought that that was the wrong question to ask? Have you ever thought that you should have simply asked me why I was different than you knew me? I cannot read your mind! How by wind and fire should I know what you are worried about?"

Hermione's mouth snapped shut.

She stared at him with huge, unbelieving eyes.

"But… but…" Ron stuttered.

"No, Ron!" Harry said coolly. "Just once, Ron, think about how you would feel if you had a nightmare one night and instead of leaving it be I'd run to your mum and wake her up just to tell on you. Tell me, would you like that?"

"Of course not!"

"Well, congratulation! You just did the same to me! You might not have run to my mum but to a teacher, but the principle in the end is the same. You . Tattled. On. Me! So excuse me if I won't talk to you for the next days! I need to calm down."

And with that Harry stood and left the room, leaving two guilt ridden teenagers behind.

Of course, Harry knew that the other two were still teens and because of that made more mistakes than they would have made otherwise. But that was no excuse. Harry wouldn't go easy on them because they still hadn't learned that the world was a cruel place. Some things you had to learn when you were young - and one of those was that you shouldn't go behind another ones back, especially if this person was your friend. It was alright to worry, but the first approach had always to be the person you worried about and not an authority figure.

Maybe they would learn in time.

It was Saturday morning and Augusta Longbottom was sitting in the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for the one man she had always admired.

"Good morning, Augusta," Augusta Longbottom turned fluently - in absolute contrast to her age - and had drawn her wand faster than most people were able to react.

Regrettably the other party wasn't 'most people' and so she had lost her wand as soon as she drew it.

She stared at the man with in surprise, but still ready to defend herself, even without her wand. The man instead just smiled at her and rounded the table to sit down in the chair on the opposite of her table. Her wand was set down on the table and rolled back to her.

"Who…?" she started to say, but then she stopped mid-sentence. She knew who. Those deathly green eyes were one of a kind.

"Professor," she greeted, still baffled how the young boy in front of her could be the same man who had taught her Ancient Runes when she was still a student at Hogwarts. But he had known her and had answered her letter with knowledge that no one but the professor ever had. Knowledge that he wouldn't have shared, not even with his own sons or grandsons.

"Augusta Selwyn," the young man answered smiling, recognition in his eyes. "Longbottom it was now?"

She nodded, still flabbergasted.

"How… how do you look so young?" she finally asked him with huge eyes. The answer was a well-known, kind smile, a smile she still remembered even after more than a hundred years.

The professor hesitated for a short moment before he sighed.

"The answer is not as simple as I'd like it to be," he said. "Let's just say it's a family secret."

Augusta blinked.

"A family secret," she repeated and the man in front of her smiled.

"Let's look for a more secure place and I might tell you a bit more," was the reply.

So Augusta Longbottom did what a Gryffindor would do. She stood up, took her wand and followed the man.

They left the Leaky Cauldron and when the man held out her arm for her, she slipped her hand in his. In the next moment she could feel the typical pressure of being apparated and when she could see again, they stood in a window-less, dark room. On the wall was a crest: a silver snake, wrapped around a white lily on a light-green grounding.

She turned to the professor and raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the crest on the wall. The answer was a laugh.

"The family's crest," he said. "I am afraid I won't be able to tell you what family it stands for."

"You can't tell me…?"

"It's the crest of a Grand family," he replied. "I will return to the Wizengamot."

The answer was a shudder.

"You want to return to politics?"

The smile was anything but reassuring Augusta contemplated when the man in front of her looked at her.

"Maybe," he said and she knew he meant 'yes'.

And for Augusta there was just one road to take now.

"What do I have to do to be part of your scheme, whatever you're scheming, Professor Malfoire?"

The professor looked at her.

"Why do you ask, Augusta?" he said.

She smiled and shrugged.

"I remember your reputation when I was a child," she said. "You were ruthless. You were feared and admired. I always wanted to be like you. Do you truly think I would give up an opportunity to work with my childhood idol?"

The answer was a surprised laugh.

"Don't laugh at me, Professor," Augusta said. "I meant it."

"I know you did," the boy said smiling. "I just wasn't expecting it."

"I wasn't the only one who admired you," Augusta defended herself. "Charlus Potter was at least as taken with you as I was. You were his absolute hero, the one man who couldn't do anything wrong. Believe me if Albus Dumbledore and you would have been born at the same time, Albus would have never become as great as he did. He would have never gained the influence he has now if you still had been there when his star started to raise."

The professor just smiled.

"I'm no hero, Augusta," he said still smiling. "I would have never fought against Grindelwald like he did."

Augusta just snorted.

"Then tell me that you didn't all you could to fight him at the time he was a danger."

The professor opened his mouth, but Augusta didn't even let him reply before she tattled on.

"I don't know where you were. I don't know what you did, but I know that you did everything you could to shield the innocent."

"That doesn't count," he said, Augusta just snorted.

"Just keep telling you that."

Silence.

Then she sighed and shook her head.

"Will you explain to me how you can look like a child even if you are older than I?"

The professor shrugged.

"I'm a Firbolg-born," he said. "The son of an Olde one. I don't age like… normal wizards do."

"A Firbolg-born?" the word was foreign to Augusta.

"The grandson of a basilisk," he said and looked at her with deathly green eyes. "I'm not human."

Augusta blinked in surprise - well, a part of her was surprised; another part of her had long since understood that he couldn't be a normal wizard like everyone else. He just had always been too different for that.

"And yet you belong to a Grand Family."

The professor shrugged.

"I was its founder," he said and smiled at her. She gawked at him and then decided she wouldn't be surprised by anything he told her anymore…

"What are you planning?"

The professor crooked his head.

"Interested in destroying the world like you know it now?" he asked her. "Interested in destroying the powerbase of the greatest and the most feared wizard in our time? Interested in rearranging our world to something no one would ever have dreamed of?"

"You aren't planning those things. That isn't like you, Professor," Augusta replied. The answer was a smirk that would have had her running if it would have truly been aimed at her.

"I never said I wanted to do exactly that," the professor said.

"So what are you doing?"

The answer was a shrug.

"Someone messed with me," he replied and Augusta shuddered. "Will you be my ally?"

Revenge.

He was out for revenge.

There was just one thing Augusta could do to answer that question.

"What do you need?" she said.

Alastor Moody was in a bad mood.

His target was gone. Gone. As in not there. As in vanished from Hogwarts.

If he could just prove that that was actually the case. If he could prove that the lad had left Hogwarts on his own and had apparated somewhere, Moody would have had all the evidence he needed. To his utter regret he had come too late to Hogwarts to see his… victim leave.

So instead of following his target he was kicking stones through the grass, swearing.

If he just could prove that the lad really had left Hogwarts and wasn't hiding somewhere Moody didn't know!

Again he kicked a little stone and the stone vanished into the woods of the Forbidden Forest.

"Stupid insomniac child," Moody grumbled. "Imbecilic hiding Slytherin in Gryffindor robes!"

A little black cat looked up at that and scrutinized the swearing Auror with its cold, grey eyes. It had been sun-bathing in the last warmth of autumn until a little stone had hit its back and woken it.

"Damn brat!" and with that the Auror turned and decided to use his time to do other things he wanted to do.

The cat stood up and followed him until he left the grounds and apparated. Then the cat turned and returned with a huff to Hogwarts.

Stupid paranoid Ex-Aurors!

It was late evening on the same Saturday when Arthur Weasley and his two eldest sons arrived in the same room Augusta Longbottom had been apparated at in the early morning.

Arthur looked nervously around the room. It was empty - at least it was until a hidden door opened and another man entered.

In the next moment Arthur corrected himself.

Not a man. A boy.

A boy, not much older than his youngest son.

"Welcome, my kin," the boy greeted them.

Arthur blinked surprised; then he decided to be better safe than sorry and bowed to the boy. His sons followed his lead.

"Head of House," he greeted in return.

The answer was a soft smile.

"I don't insist on formality in informal settings," he said. "You may call me Salvazsahar - or Sal if you have trouble with my name."

"Salvazsahar will be fine, my Lord," Arthur answered and relaxed. He had never been good with the customs of purebloods - one of the reasons his family had been labeled as blood-traitors. "Please feel free to call me Arthur." Then he pointed at his sons. "These are my heir, William, called Bill and my second born Charles, called Charlie."

The other one nodded in acceptance and then gestured to a few seats in the corner.

"Let's sit down before we will start our discussion."

Arthur, Bill and Charlie followed.

It was Bill who spoke as soon as they had sat down.

"Tell me, my Lord, what do you want with us?"

Arthur looked a little bit unhappy at his son. The question might have been true, but there were definitely better ways to phrase it.

But instead of feeling insulted, the boy in front of them laughed.

"I didn't choose to send you the message because I want to use you for anything, Heir Weasley," he said. "I choose you because you are family and you have the right to choose if you want associate with those you belong to in blood."

"You have to be very ambitious if you want to recreate a Grand Family. People like that normally choose exactly what kind of people they want to have in their family and what kind they don't want. And normally they look for powerful allies or people they can use for their own benefit," Bill answered coolly. "So forgive me if I don't believe you."

The answer was again a laugh.

"I'll send my invitation to the family to every direct descendant. I wouldn't have considered the Weasley's as they are first cousins if it hadn't been for Molly Weasley, nee Prewett. As she is the last of the Prewetts I decided to invite the Weasleys even if they are not as closely related as the rest I am inviting," the boy answered. "Of course the consequences are that I have also to invite another family, so that they can't protest the invite."

"Excuse me?" Charlie asked surprised. "What has inviting our family to do with inviting the other family?"

Salvazsahar shrugged.

"They are cousins to the Weasleys and the Grand Family," he answered casually. "At the same time they are closely related to me. So you could say that they are as closely related as the Weasleys, so when I am inviting you, I will have to invite them. I don't mind. I don't like the current British Head of the Branch Family I am talking about but they could be useful for me."

"So you selected us because of our use. What use would you get from us?" Bill said coolly. Arthur wanted to slap his boy for his rude tone.

Salvazsahar just shrugged.

"It is in my nature to consider the use of those people I associate with," he said unimpressed. "To be straight forward: the value I see in your family would be a curse-breaker, a dragon-tamer, a ministry worker three more potentially promising children, two genius pranksters and a trained researcher. That is the value you bring and that is the value I seek. Nothing more, nothing less."

The three Weasleys gawked at him.

"And if we join the family, what would you have us do?" Arthur finally asked, giving up on customs. His sons had broken them way before and their potential Head of House didn't seem to mind.

The boy shrugged.

"Whatever you do now," he said. "Of course there are things I would forbid you to do or things I would encourage you to learn but mostly I'm interested in keeping your family exactly like it is now."

Charlie's eyes narrowed.

"So what are the rules you expect us to follow?" he asked.

Salvazsahar shrugged again.

"Unity of the Grand Family in public. You can hate each other all you like when you're in private, as long as you are in public you stand behind family."

A reasonable demand, Arthur thought.

"I also would expect you all submit to a health test. You will be tested for potions or spells."

Nothing to object there, even if it would be embarrassing.

"Another rule would be that all of you learn to Occlude your mind. It will help against possession, compulsion charms or Imperius. This is not negotiable on my side."

This time it was Bill who nodded in understanding. The goblins also insisted on the same safety measurements. They definitely were a good way to keep the whole family safe.

"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 with your family. You might admire someone else - someone like Albus Dumbledore or Fudge 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."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. It would be different than before. Until now he had always looked up at Dumbledore but if he truly considered following this Grand Family then he would have to look at the man with critical eyes.

"What about You-Know-Who?" Charlie asked. "Would you be as lenient if we decided to join him?"

This time the Head of the House hesitated before he sighed.

"I am not light," he said softly. "The Grand Family won't be light. And if it had been any other Dark Lord - Grindelwald, Morrigan, whoever - I wouldn't care if you admire him, at least not to a certain extent. I wouldn't like it if you'd follow him and if you'd kill people because of him, but I wouldn't mind it because you're dark but because you are doing the wrong thing. Life is precious. As long as you don't endanger life I don't care at all. Except Tom Riddle. I'd care if you follow him. If you do and are unwilling to give up your alliance with him, I would never accept you in my family. Joining him might have been a mistake you made, but if you don't want to correct it, I won't have you in my family, remember that."

Charlie blinked astonished.

"Wait! You're saying we could be followers of Grindelwald as far as you care, and you wouldn't mind as long as we don't kill for him - but we can't follow Voldemort even if we don't kill for him? Why?"

The answer was a snarl.

"Simple," the boy-Head of House said. "Because he is Tom Marvolo Riddle. He is a lying bastard, using everyone for his own benefit and doesn't allow people to stand aside. You're either for him or against him - not speaking of his deeds against this family."

"Deeds against this family?" Bill asked astonished. "What deeds are you talking about?"

The answer was another snarl.

"Like I see it, he is at fault for the murder of some of our family members. Even if you don't accept your part in this family, I will still count the Prewett family to my family - and I don't accept allies who killed family members."

This time Arthur felt his tears threatening to fall. He knew that Molly was still hurt after losing her brothers and that the Prewett part was accepted by this unknown Grand Family and not only accepted but also one of the reasons to refuse Voldemort - that was more and better than they had expected.

"But you will still accept dark wizards as family members if they follow these rules?" Charlie asked in that moment.

Death green eyes looked at them gravely.

"I'm going to," he answered.

"You're going to?" Bill asked softly. "As in, there are families you asked that are dark?"

"… Yes."

Arthur, Bill and Charlie looked at each other.

"May we ask who?" Bill finally said.

The boy sighed.

"This Grand-Family vanished when the three heirs of the family changed their names to escape prosecution," he finally said. "One family kept the new name they had chosen for themselves, the others married in two families who had women as their heirs."

"So we're talking about the reunion of three families?" Arthur asked softly.

"Five," Salvazsahar corrected. "The main family later split again when two other sons married the female heirs of lesser families."

"So, what families are we talking about?"

The answer was a grim smile.

"We're talking about a dark, two neutral and two light families, one of the light ones are the Prewetts, the other one the Longbottoms. And of course there is the little problem with the kin-family I will have to contact because I contacted you. This family will also be dark."

Bill frowned.

"You won't be able to get them all to join you. Normally light and dark do not mix and the neutrals are neutral for a reason…"

Salvazsahar just shrugged.

"So you won't join because of the possibility that dark or neutral families will be part of the family?" he asked them.

Arthur's mind was reeling. This was THE question. The one question he had been waiting for since the beginning of their meeting.

Arthur knew that he wouldn't get more answers today. Salvazsahar had said what he wanted and what he could. Now Arthur had to accept or decline the offer.

Like the Longbottoms had, Arthur had no illusion that the naming of said family meant that they said yes. You couldn't name a family who hadn't declared its standing to that point of time.

So there was just one thing Arthur knew: two dark and two neutral families might still join the family. Two dark. Would he be able to accept a dark family as relations?

But then, Arthur and his family could finally be part of a family, could be shielded against those who looked down on them - but there was the chance that they had to work together with the likes of Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and McNair. But then, whoever would be part of the family wouldn't be a Death Eater - or at least a Death Eater any longer…

So there was just the little problem that they might have to work together with former Death Eaters. Albus Dumbledore wouldn't be happy.

It was that thought that stopped his thought process and made him grimace. Was that what he had become in the last years? A lackey of Dumbledore, solely worrying about pleasing the old man?

Yes, Albus Dumbledore had the right idea.

Yes, it was a good idea to follow him and fight against the Death Eaters and Voldemort.

But Dumbledore was not responsible for their family, like Bill had told him when the letter arrived. It was Arthur's choice. Solely Arthur's - well, and maybe the choice of his heirs.

Arthur looked at his sons. Both of them looked grim and determined. He could see in their faces that they had thought about what they had learned. He looked at them inquiringly.

Bill nodded softly at his father, a second later Charlie did the same.

And Dumbledore?

Was not his keeper.

"No," Arthur said finally. "We don't mind if the families in this Grand Family are light, neutral or dark."

Again Arthur took a steady breath. And then he leaped over the cliff and hoped Salvazsahar would catch him before he fell to his death. Metaphorically, of course…

"Hullo, Tom!"

Tom, the innkeeper, of course - not the Dark Lord, said man would have killed anyone who even dared to utter said name in front of him - looked up from polishing his glasses.

"Xeno," he greeted the man in front of him.

"I've the next edition of my paper," Xeno said and Tom took out the money pouch he kept behind his counter and gave it to Xeno. The money was from the sales of the last paper. Tom sold them and then gave Xeno his share of the money when the man came with the next edition of his newspaper.

"There's an article from Twist in it?" Tom asked interested.

Xeno just nodded.

"Yes," he said. "I asked him to be a columnist for my newspaper after all."

"I need more of your papers today," Tom said as an answer. "They were gone just hours after you brought them the last time around."

Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of The Quibbler, just stared at him in surprise. Then he nodded slowly.

"Of course," he said. "I always knew that the two-nosed unicorn would interest a lot of people…"

Tom said nothing to that, wisely.

"So, how many do you want?"

For a moment Tom contemplated his options then he shrugged with his shoulders and decided to take a risk.

"Triple it," he said. It was a risk, but a small one with Twist.

Xeno just looked at him oddly, but finally nodded and did as he was told.

As soon as Xeno was gone, Tom risked a glance at the article of Twist.

Ouch.

That definitely would sell…

The next week was a tense affair between the Golden Trio. Harry had made true of his statement and had stopped speaking to Ron and Hermione. Instead of sitting with them in the Great Hall, he sat with Neville.

The quiet boy said nothing to that for the first three days, but a day later at lunch he finally cracked.

"Harry?" he asked hesitatingly. "What happened between you and Ron and Hermione?"

Harry shrugged.

"They decided to go to Dumbledore instead of talking it over with me," Harry answered shrugging. "I won't talk to them until they understand that what they did is wrong."

Neville blinked at that.

"Oh," he said, stopped, but then pressed on. "Why did they think they had to go to Dumbledore? I mean, what did you do?"

Harry shrugged again.

"They think I act different than I did last year," he answered sincerely.

This time Neville frowned.

"Well, you do act different," he finally said nervously. "You don't antagonize Malfoy and Snape anymore, you know potions and you are friendly with the Slytherins."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"So you will also go to Dumbledore because of that?" he asked the timid boy coolly.

Neville snorted.

"No," he said. "But I would like to know what happened to change you that much." Then his eyes widened and he hastily added. "Just if you want to tell me, that is!"

Harry just smiled.

"I learned about some things I never knew," he answered softly. "Like my heritage and my status in the wizarding world. I simply cannot continue to act like I did, now that I learned about it. It wouldn't do me any good - especially when I enter the Wizengamot."

"So you're planning to enter full time?" Neville asked him interested. "I thought you might want to keep the proxy you had until now, I mean, that's what the most of us do who are still at school."

Harry shrugged.

"I don't know who my proxy is at the moment," he said sighing. "I was never told anything about my seat in the Wizengamot by anyone until now. If my proxy did not approach me when I returned to the wizarding world, do you really think he still has the right to call himself my proxy? He should have met with me years ago and not continue to vote in my stead without even asking me what I want!"

This Neville definitely could not object.

"So you're taking on your seat full time," he concluded.

Harry shrugged.

"We'll see," he said. "There are still some variables I have to calculate before I decide."

Neville blinked at that.

"You know you will lose political clout if you don't go to the first Wizengamot meeting next term," he said, watching his friend closely. Harry shrugged.

"I know," he answered Neville's inquire. "But the truth is I still don't know how I should do it. After all officially I still have no idea about my heritage."

"Then how…?"

The answer was a smirk.

"There's a secret in my family," Harry answered him, still smirking. "A secret not even Dumbledore knows."

"What has that to do with you knowing…?"

"Simple. The secret has to do with the goblins. And goblins never break their word."

Neville shuddered when he heard that. Harry of course was right. A goblin never broke its word - but they were deceiving little things who would do anything to have the advantage. That Harry's family secret was with the goblins could mean just one thing: They would have done anything to share it with Harry if that was what they had been asked to do. No wonder Harry knew about his responsibilities…

"So the goblins told you," Neville concluded, still shuddering. Harry shrugged.

"Something like that," he answered the timid boy. After that answer, Neville decided not to ask any further. He knew better than to pry into the secrets of another family, after all.

"So what are you planning to do today?" he decided to ask instead.

Harry smiled.

That was the moment the morning post arrived and with it the next edition of The Quibbler .

Hogwarts wouldn't have a peaceful day today.

The Leaky Cauldron was full. The people inside stepped on each other's toe, all of them talking to their neighbours with hushed voices and huge eyes.

Tom was standing behind his counter, looking over the crowd, watching.

The people were discussing an article in the newspaper heatedly.

Not an article in the Daily Prophet, no, an article in The Quibbler .

Since Xenophilius Lovegood had come by this morning and had brought his batch of newspapers, the Leaky Cauldron had been filled with people discussing Oliver Twist and the article he had written this time.

The most important word in the discussion?

Riddle.

Tom could hear it everywhere.

Riddle, here, riddle there.

Yes, the people were discussing Twist's article.

"Do you think Twist's right and the ministry wants to slander the Boy-Who-Lived?"

"Definitive. That's the ministry for you. They don't want to hear something and so they disgrace whoever told them the truth. It's the same like last time. I bet there was someone telling them about the Death Eaters and their deeds. And did they do anything? No, they just stick their head in the ground and hope whatever is their problem will vanish on its own!"

"And then Riddle…"

On and on the discussion continued. Sometimes people were calling comments to each other through the whole room. Sometimes they would whisper in each other's ears.

Tom just snorted when he heard some of the comments.

He finally shook his head and decided to read the article again.

It was the work of a master.

Yes, this article definitively had to be acknowledged by reading it at least a second time…

THERE'S A RIDDLE IN THE WORLD - IT'S CALLED HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED

Facts and Fiction about You-know-who's (maybe) return to the living

Hogwarts has started again - and with it the typical rumor-mill that graces the halls of Hogwarts. "Detention, Mr. Potter for spreading lies about You-Know-Who!" I just wonder what lies he has spread, because according to those who were present when the detention was given to our famous Boy-Who-Lived, said boy never stated anything about the return of the darkest Dark Lord since Grindelwald.

" He was at his Muggle-relation's home," I heard one of the fifth years repeating after class. "He never mentioned You-Know-Who neither in the past summer, nor in class."

And yet he was given detention for spreading lies about the return of You-Know-Who by the new Defence Teacher of Hogwarts, Dolores J. Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary of Minister Cornelius Fudge himself. And I asked myself "why?"

The only thing I can think of is that the ministry wants to break our beloved hero. Just look at it: they slandered a minor over the whole summer - a minor who was at that time living at his Muggle-relations and because of that unable to renounce the ministry's claim. Then there was the trial - a trial that was nothing more but a shame to our own laws; and now this.

So why? Is it because the ministry fears he is right? Is it because the ministry knows he is right and refuses to believe him? Or is the eluded Senior Undersecretary this time working on her own device?

I don't know, and I don't care. What I care about are facts. Hard facts that will tell you the truth.

So, let's go to the facts. Maybe we'll find out whom to believe and whom to disregard.

One of the facts I've already mentioned before: why using Peter Pettigrew for your claim if you have Sirius Black on the run and everyone knows that Pettigrew is dead?

Others I haven't thought about until I decided to enter into this discussion: What happened to Cedric Diggory? We know he died - but did he die in the maze? And if he did, why was he brought back to the entrance by Harry Potter? Was Potter there when Cedric Diggory died? And if he was: why did Diggory die and not Potter? Let's face it: Diggory was a seventh year student and one of the brightest minds of our generation. Potter instead might be famous, but at that time he had just been a fourteen year old boy who was more interested in playing Quiddich than learning. So why did Diggory die? Did he rescue Potter and was killed at that time? But if he was: where is the mark of his heroism? There was nothing in the maze that would have him looking as if he was just sleeping. The only thing I know that kills without a trace is the killing-curse.

And there's the problem. I don't think that there was anything in the maze that would operate with the killing curse. So where did it come from? Potter? You won't tell me that a fourteen-year-old will be able to perform the killing-curse. The reason I don't believe that is simple: in 'Magical Law and Theory' from Aldwin Hoppenbaecker is stated that "A wizard has to at least mature the second time to be able to perform dark spells like the Unforgivables flawlessly. Before that he would be hard pressed to perform a Curcius or an Imperius and he would be absolutely unable to perform the killing-curse." Normally a wizard matures between the ages of fifteen and eighteen. Harry Potter was neither at that time - and because of that unable to perform the killing-curse. So who did it?

Sirius Black? So why didn't Potter name him?!

Who else is there?

The only one who ever handed out the killing-curse like sweets in the last decades was You-Know-Who. And if it wasn't You-Know-Who, it definitely had to be someone just as bad as the infamous Dark Lord. So why doesn't the Ministry investigate? Isn't it the right of Cedric Diggory's parents to know who killed their son?

And if it's the deed of someone else, why does the ministry nothing to catch the killer? Is it their fear that Potter might be right and You-Know-Who's back?

So in the end I decided to at least take a look into this You-Know-Who business myself. You know, the simple facts: who is he, what has he done, is there a way for him to come back?

The questions, as simple as they seemed at first brought interesting results.

We are talking about 'You-Know-Who' and mean that one dark wizard who had half of Britain under his control just a decade earlier - the wizard who calls himself Lord V*.

Lord V* - it should have been simple to find out anything about a pure-blood lord like that. After all, we have generology books and books about the lords of the wizarding world and their power - in all those books the family names of said lords are always mentioned; easy to find, enjoyable to read.

In the end it came different than I thought. I simply didn't find any reliable data on him. There was nothing about him. Nothing to know, nothing that counted as reliable facts. The question I asked myself at that point was "why?"! I pondered sometime over the answer of that question until I finally found the answer I was looking for. I couldn't find anything because -it was a shock to me, but I have to confess that like maybe a lot of people in the wizarding world - I just truly DO NOT KNOW WHO he is!

Of course I know what he did and how he was seen by the wizarding world - but that knowledge does not tell me WHO he truly is. It just tells me what he's capable of.

Well - there is a way to rectify this. So I started at the beginning. Everybody knows You-Know-Who's name is Lord V*. There are not many lords in this realm, so I just looked them up in my school history book in the chapter about wizarding nobility. Can you imagine how surprised I was when I did not find evidence about any Lord V*?!

There even never was a family V* at all. So the first fact, I have to tell you, is, that the man who brought war on us until he was stopped by Harry Potter - was a lying coward. I cannot fathom how any respectable pure-blood can follow someone who cowardly hides behind a false name - a synonym that means 'Flight from death' in French. A coward indeed. My mother's a respectable pure-blood of a French lineage. She said she would die before being called V* - being afraid of death is nothing a proper pure-blood would ever be! She told me it is against proper pure-blood behaviour to be afraid of something as natural and as connected to magic like death. I believe my mother - but if that's true, wouldn't that make You-Know-Who an uneducated mudblood? And I mean a 'mudblood' - because that is what the blood-purists call those who don't follow wizarding traditions.

Sadly that's all guesses and there are no facts to tell me if my mother's right…

So I went back to scratch. There is not much known about You-Know-Who. He is a Dark Lord, he is cruel, he lies about his name and maybe his lordship - and he is the heir of Slytherin.

This information has been whispered everywhere. It's just a rumour itself but I decided to try. I went to the goblin for this piece of information. Normally, they don't give up sensitive information like that - but there is a simple way: They are required to hand out the Great Book of Wizarding Genealogy if you ask them. The book is an edited version and does not show all heirs. There are heirs in our world that went into hiding by changing their names - they will not be listed in it. The goblins themselves have another copy where they are truly listed but I digress…

I looked up the lineage of Slytherin. The lineage vanished in 1651, when a daughter of the house most likely killed all the heirs and the Lord of Slytherin. The only reminding, known family member was the son of said daughter, a Gaunt. The last one who came to Gringotts to be added to the family was a Tom Marvolo Riddle, son of Merope Gaunt, back in the forties or fifties. He was a half-blood, Muggle-raised orphan and attended Hogwarts in Slytherin. He vanished shortly before the rise of You-Know-Who.

So, let's go back to our facts: Lord V* is a liar. He lied about his name, as V* is no family name. He even maybe lied about his lordship. Then there was Tom Riddle, the last descendant of Gaunt and maybe Slytherin. The goblins denied him the title of Lord Slytherin and he never claimed the Gaunt-lordship. Tom Riddle never had a child - so there is no way that Lord V* is his son. There is also no other known living descendant of Slytherin. So how come that the liar Lord V* claims to be a pure-blood Slytherin?!

There are just two possibilities that could lead to the current situation: One, Lord V* is indeed a cowardice pure-blood who killed Tom Riddle, last of the Gaunt and maybe Slytherin-family and took his lineage for himself. The second, Lord V* is Tom Riddle and is lying about being a pure-blood. Either way: How can a respectable pure-blood follow someone like that?! He can't.

So just look at it like that: even if You-Know-Who's back like Albus Dumbledore claims, there is no way that he would gain enough followers to be a threat.

After all, I believe in the society I have been raised in - and no pure-blood lord would follow a half-blood who rejects the old name of Gaunt just to spout of a secondary name (even if it's more famous) like Slytherin who's family first carried a lordship years after the Gaunts.

After sorting through all the facts I found, I finally realized that there is no way to decide who You-Know-Who really is. That leaves me with just one solution. I simply will not call him You-Know-Who anymore - simply because I don't know who.

From now on he will be 'Riddle' to me. Eventually it is his real name and even if it isn't: He still is a multiple Riddle I have not solved until now: After all, I do not know who he is and I do not know if he lives - so why calling him something that is wrong? Even if he is alive - he cannot fault us for calling him a riddle when he does nothing to rectify our knowledge about him…

And a ban on Riddle will be a hard thing to add - after all, it's such a common word…

Oliver Twist