Harry awoke in his bedroom with a groan, his vision blurred and his head throbbing for reasons not pertaining to his spectacles sitting innocently on his nightstand. Every breath he took seemed to only increase the throbbing sensation; it was at such a level that if there was any sound being made in his room, he was sure he wouldn't be able to hear it.
Flicking his wrist, finding that every action he performed only caused the throbbing in his head to increase, he drew his wand (which is attached to the holster on his wrist at all times) and cast a silent summoning charm to call the silver flask sitting on his bathroom sink to him.
The action, unfortunately, wasn't as successful as he would have liked. Apparently, the axe that was firmly lodged in the back of his skull hindered his concentration a little, making casting almost impossible, forget about silent casting . . .
Flicking his wrist again, he shakily got up from his bed, grabbing his spectacles from where he remembered he placed them, and stumbled towards the bathroom. His vision was filled with large blurs and a whole array of colours he couldn't make sense of while his head felt like his brain was being forcibly ripped apart while two, super loud, speakers were stuck on the side of his head and sending a continuous thumping sound into his eardrums.
Felling for what he knew to be the doorway to his bathroom, he pushed the open door violently out of his way and stumbled to the sink. Resting his hands on the basin, he felt around the sink for the silver flask he knew would make this pain go away – this was the last time he'd go to sleep with that damn flask so far away from him.
Finally, his hand made contact with a cool, heavy and metallic object, roughly the size of his wallet, not too far from the basin. Unscrewing the silver lid, he put the flask to his mouth and took a gulp of the thick and salty liquid within.
The effects began to take effect rather slowly, but it was noticeable. At first, his vision began to clear up while the throbbing in his head remained, but slowly, the massive throbbing began to disappear while after his vision was returned to normal.
Harry exhaled loudly and looked at his reflection in the mirror, completely naked save for a pair of boxer briefs. Sure, his body remained physically in tact, and he didn't experience nightmares due to prolonged exposure to the Dementor's mood sucking aura, but that didn't mean he left the prison unscathed.
"That's why Occlumency is a Ministry regulated art of Magic I guess . . ." and indeed, it was. There was only one way to stop a Dementor from penetrating your mental defences and sucking all the good thoughts out of your mind, and that was to erect a strong barrier around it using Occlumency while clearing your mind of all thoughts and emotions.
There was one problem with that however, while it did stop the horrific, nightmare inducing images the Dementors got off on showing their prey, it did put massive amounts of strain on one's mind. Three and a half weeks of reinforcing his mental defences with his own magic while the hellish creatures relentlessly slammed against them with the subtlety of a battering ram didn't do much to help his situation.
Luckily, the first attack occurred during his check-up with his personal Medi-wizard at Saint Mungo's – provided by the English Quidditch association, of course - after his release. The magical doctor had quickly given him a potion and grilled him as to what exactly happened during his stay in Azkaban.
Apparently, he had contracted a self-imposed magical malady called 'Dolorius Occlumathornia', which basically meant that without his medication, he'd have a constant, severe migraine. It occurred when one channelled too much magic around their brains for prolonged periods of time.
A disease that infected his mind . . . his most prized and valued possession.
He would get Fudge and Malfoy back if it was the last thing he did, right after robbing them of every galleon they owned first.
Fortunately, so long as he took his medication three times a day, he'd never have to worry about the symptoms . . . unfortunately, he was a busy kid with a lot of things on his mind, remembering to take his medicine wasn't always on the top of that list.
So long as nobody found out about this weakness though, everything would be okay. There may be no cure known to the Medi-wizards and witches of the world, but none of them knew much of Parsel magic's healing abilities either.
He would not allow anyone to use this against him . . .
"Speaking of Parsel magic . . ." he mumbled under his breath before quickly getting dressed, pocketing his silver flask, and heading to his study. The room looked very much the same as it did at Christmas save for one key difference, on the wall opposite his bookshelves between two large columns hung the portrait of a sleeping Salazar Slytherin.
"Wake up, Salazar" Harry hissed, his voice not noticeably loud, but it did reach the founder's ears.
The founder started at the unfamiliar voice before levelling a glare at the boy currently standing on the other side of the room, his back to him, looking over his newest collection of tomes.
"Mind your manners, boy" he hissed irritably "what is so important that you decide to interrupt my sleep?"
"I need you tell me which of the unnamed tomes contains all the healing magic you described to me," he asked "you do remember which one it is, don't you?"
"Don't get coy with me, boy. Find out for yourself, I see no profit in it for me to tell you such a thing," he said, annoyance clearly lacing his tone.
"I suppose you can find your own history books within that portrait of yours then, I'm sorry I wasted your time," Harry quipped without missing a beat, earning a growl from the founder.
"Charm them so I may interact with them on voice commands," he shot back "or I will tell you nothing."
"I will charm the oldest one I own first, to prove I can," Harry counter offered "You will then tell me which of the tomes is the one I seek, I will then charm the rest to behave as you have requested and leave you in peace."
Slytherin seemed to consider his offer for several moments before reluctantly nodding "Your terms are agreeable, get to it then."
Harry walked over to a different bookshelf and levitated a dozen thick tomes from its confines before letting them down before Slytherin. Harry had anticipated the man would want to catch up on the times, so he made sure to collect both muggle and magical tomes on events that occurred over the past thousand years, knowing he would request it eventually anyway.
Using a spell he had recently learned to cut down on his study time, Harry waved his wand expertly over the tome depicting the oldest events and set it before the portrait.
Salazar eyed the boy with a calculating gleam before turning to the book sitting innocently on the small table below his portrait.
"Rise," he spoke normally this time, knowing it wouldn't react to Parseltongue. The book, recognizing the command, floated up from its position on the table and rotated so its front cover was facing him, its title clear and visible.
"Open," he spoke again, lo and behold, the cover swung open, showing Slytherin one blank page and another with the picture of the author and several other non-consequential details. He experimented with several more commands before nodding in approval.
"I see now why you are one of Rowena's own," Harry wasn't sure whether that was a compliment or not "you lived up to your end of the deal, it is now time for me to do mine – seventh book from the right, the fourth shelf from the bottom. It is in there you will find what you seek, you should know though, that is the only tome in that collection that I did not write myself. . ."
"Aesculapius?"Harry interrupted, trying not to sound hopeful. Salazar merely responded with a glare.
"His son, Machaon, but he was taught by his father, no doubt," he informed "A very well respected healer in his own right, just like his siblings."
Harry nodded his head in thanks before going over and pulling out the book in question from the shelf. Flipping through it to see if it was the right one, Harry discovered that it indeed was before charming the rest of the history books he obtained for Salazar to respond to his demands.
He left his study without a backwards glance; he had some reading to do.
Sirius was very much enjoying his newfound freedom, though, the distinct lack of time being spent with his godson was always something that served to damper his mood. He couldn't really do much about that though; the boy had a life of his own, a rather busy and interesting one at that.
In fact, it was that life in particular that lead the occupants of Moony Nights into their current situation. Remus and Archie had pointed out, rather warily, that Harry would not like this at all. He couldn't possibly understand why, I mean, dozens of girls – hot ones at that! – arriving in groups to spend time with the said the Quidditch star, each of them sitting with their own friends at separate tables and ordering up a storm from the bar.
"At least its good for business," Remus had commented when he opened that morning, only to see the line of girls waiting to come in for breakfast. Archie had to don his apron to help Remus keep up with his tenants, regulars and new customers, something he still wouldn't stop grumbling about.
It was confusing though, Sirius mused; he was lead to believe that aside from some close friends, business associates and Goblins, no one was supposed to know that the 'Harry' living here was 'Harry Potter, Quidditch star'. Somehow, that information was leaked and the girls just started coming, that and some die-hard Quidditch fans looking for autographs.
He wasn't ashamed to admit that he was shocked and a little jealous, that women closer to his age were arriving to get a peek at his godson.
"Stupid, slow acting nutrient potions," Sirius mumbled as he pinched the saggy skin on his bicep. If only the potions Archie had given him to drink every morning would work faster, he wouldn't need a reason to be jealous. He'd reel these beautiful fish in using his godson as a lure, it was beautiful and the ultimate bonding experience.
Sirius was starting to get worried though, he knew that Harry had apparently come home late last night after some visit to France, but it was two in the afternoon and there was still no sigh of his godson.
"Is this normal?" he asked from his stool on the bar, Remus was working furiously behind it, preparing drinks for their customers.
"Care to elaborate Padfoot?" Remus asked with narrowed eyes while balancing several pints of Butterbear on a tray, ready for delivery.
"Pronglset, I haven't seen him all day," it looked like Harry's fans were starting to think the same thing, wondering if perhaps the information on his whereabouts was just some cruel joke.
"He'll be down soon," Archie piped up from behind the bar, he was cleaning the pints that Lizzy would collect and return to him "he has training in about half an hour and he hasn't eaten yet, oh, there he is. . ."
Sirius swivelled around in his chair to see his godson dressed quite plainly in a tight black tee-shirt, a pair of grey track pants and a pair of chucks covering his feet, with a bag being held over his shoulder. The boy stopped dead at the top of the stairs, his eyes wide as he looked down at the dining area full of squealing fan-girls.
"Hey Potter, you come for some lunch?" Archie yelled loudly, much to the boy's shock, causing several fans to nearly develop whiplash as they turned to the direction of the stairs. Harry turned an icy glare to his friend who was grinning smugly at him from his position behind the bar "Stop him, he's gonna get away!" Archie yelled, causing Harry's glare to increase – that was the plan. . .
"Harry, can I have a picture?!" one girl screamed above the rest as excited chatter broke out in the inn, the volume increasing steadily as everyone tried to talk over each other.
"Harry, will you be my boyfriend?!"
"Will you sign my broom?"
"Can I have one of your babies?!"
That last one freaked Harry out a bit, the woman looked to be in her late twenties . . .
Quickly assessing the situation, Harry spotted his goal, the fireplace, on the other side of the room, the bowl of Floo powder sitting innocently on the mantle. The only problem was the throng of people in his way starting from the bottom of the stairs he was currently descending and reaching back to the other side of the large dining room – he could tell the regulars were rather annoyed by the spectacle.
Harry needed to create a distraction, and he needed to create one quickly – they were slowly advancing on him and climbing the stairs.
"Look, Voldemort!" he yelled, pointing to the door. Nearly everyone in the room, Remus included, dived for cover giving Harry the time he needed to jump over the railing and grab onto the wall-mounted lamp, before dropping gracefully to the floor. Harry sprinted passed the crowd of people as fast as he could, sending a quick hex in Archie's direction, before grabbing a pinch of Floo powder and diving into the fireplace; he was gone in a flash of green flames, not without one last message however:
"You're such a dickhead sometimes Archades!"
Archie rose from his position behind the bar with a smug grin on his face "Serves him right for making me wait up and not telling me where he was going last night."
Sirius promptly fell off his chair laughing at the sight of Archie, or more particularly, what was on his forehead.
"When he called you a dickhead," Sirius managed to get out between raspy heckles "he wasn't kidding!"
Archie's face scrunched up in confusion until he felt an odd weight on his forehead, forcing his eyebrows to stay in a permanent frown.
"Oh no he didn't. . ."
Sirius was still rolling on the floor laughing, holding his sides in pain from laughing so hard while Remus himself was chuckling quietly.
"Why don't we go out back and I can take care of that for you?" Tonks asked out of nowhere, causing Sirius to stop laughing and Archie to look at her incredulously.
"When the hell did you get here?" Sirius demanded, though more curious than upset. Archie's reaction was noticeably different.
Archie ran to one of the mirrored walls behind the bar to stare at his reflection, and when he saw it, his face was frozen in one of shock, for on his forehead, was a rather limp, and wrinkly penis.
A girlish scream of horror startled most of the occupants of the bar out of their state of fright, having dived under tables and behind walls when their hero had spotted the dark lord.
"Get it off, get it off, get it off, get it off, get it off, get it off, get it off," Archie was bashing furiously at his forehead while trying to pull the offending appendage from its new home.
"Careful now Archie," Tonks said with humour "any more than two tugs and that's considered playing with yourself!"
Archie rounded on her with narrowed eyes "Something you picked up from last night's shenanigans, Nymphadora?!"
Now Harry might be able to get away with using her name like that, mainly because he scared the shit out of Tonks on a good day – Archie had no such intimidation qualities, nor the skill to back them.
The customers of Moony Nights were, needless to say, mentally scarred when they saw Archie running and diving away from Tonks, the penis on his forehead thwacking painfully against his face with every step he took.
To say Thomas Redbridge was a little shocked to see his star chaser stumble out of the Floo terminal outside their teams changing rooms was like saying Albus Dumbledore only slightly liked his candy.
"What in Merlin's name happened to you Harry?" flabbergasted at the boy's appearance.
"Somehow, my adoring fans found out where I lived coach," he replied dryly "A word of advice, throwing around Voldemort's name is a killer distraction . . ."
"I'll keep that in mind," Redbridge said with a frown "you know as a part of your contract, you're obligated to at least sign a few autographs when you appear in public" he reminded crossly.
Harry looked to the man in shock as he asked "How is my home considered public?"
"It's open to the general public, and is thus, falls under said category in the contract you signed," he reminded Harry "I'll let you off this time though because you would have probably been late for training if you stayed and signed autographs . . ."
"Why do you care?" Harry looked incredulous "As long as I play well, what difference does it make if I sign some photos or not?"
"Harry," Redbridge began with exasperation "being nice to the fans reflects well on the team, and if the public looks to us in a better light, we'll sell more merchandise and tickets to games," he reminded "it's all in your contract, if you cared to read it thoroughly."
"What? Two hundred thousand people aren't enough?" he said, referring to the numbers they had pulled in their last game against Brazil.
"Go in the changing rooms, the Doc is waiting in there to give you a physical," the coach ordered, and though Harry felt like objecting, he knew it would be futile. He'd do the same thing in his position, he mused.
"Is it Allison or Borislava?" he asked warily, as his coach chuckled.
"Don't worry boyo, its Allison," he affirmed as Harry let out a sigh of relief "Borislava has the night off, I don't know why you're complaining though, she's one of the best physiotherapists in the world."
"I don't want anyone with the name Borislava touching my testicles," Harry shouted over his shoulder as Redbridge shoved him through the door of the changing rooms where Allison Heart was waiting for him.
"I'm honoured you would reserve such a privilege for me, Mister Potter," Allison Heart, the young and very beautiful black haired, grey eyed doctor drawled sarcastically.
"Now, now Allison, we both know this isn't necessary, so if you'll just tick all those boxes, we can save ourselves a lot of time," he tried, and failed, to dissuade her from her task.
"Doctor Heart," she replied sternly.
"No. . ." Harry said with a frown "my name's Harry, you're Allison; now that we know my memory is fine, can we just end this please?"
Allison sent him a disapproving frown, ignoring the informal way he referred to her for right now, before motioning to his clothes.
"I'm going to need you to strip and sit up on that bed there," she ordered while preparing her tools.
"You're not one to mince words then," Harry grinned "I was thinking we could grab a coffee first. . ."
"Now Mister Potter," she ordered impatiently. The grin on Harry's face vanished only to be replaced by a cold glare.
"And should I refuse?" the Doctor rose an eyebrow in amusement, which quickly turned into a frown when she noticed Harry had his wand covertly pointed at her.
"Put that wand away Mister Potter before you hurt yourself," she threatened, though she was annoyed to see Harry gave off not even the slightest signs of being intimidated.
"I have a better idea," Harry quickly sent a wordless disarming curse at her and snatched the shocked Medi-witch's wand from out of the air "you give me a vow of secrecy concerning anything you may find so long as it will not affect my playing ability, and I will allow you to conduct your physical – if you find something that will hamper my abilities, you can do what you want, anything else, you're forbidden to say a word about to anyone . . ."
"That's absurd!" she glared heatedly at him "I will not be bullied by some student into not performing my duties . . ."
"This is not a negotiation," he matched her glare with one of his own "it's the way things will be, will you cooperate Allison?"
She sent him one last withering glare, but nodded reluctantly as a blue glow surrounded her and Harry, solidifying the vow of secrecy.
"Good," Harry handed her wand back to the surprised doctor "do what you must and be quick about it; I have a training session to get to."
Allison had him strip naked before she started her examination. Everything seemed normal until she reached the neurological exam. Performing a scan on the stony Harry's brain, she was shocked by what she found.
"What in Merlin's name . . ." she mumbled under her breath as she continued to examine his brain with her diagnostic spell. She then noticed the silver flask by the rest of his clothes, moving quickly, she snatched up the flask and sniffed at the potion within, though she found the quick movements unnecessary as Harry didn't try to stop her.
"You have Dolorius Occlumathornia?" she asked incredulously "wait a minute . . ." she mumbled under her breath as she examined his eyes closely before frowning "no sign of sleep deprivation as is common amongst people who spend any amount of time in Azkaban," she assessed "then how did you . . . oh sweet Merlin, you used Occlumency to shield yourself from their effects for the whole month . . ." her voice was soft and laced with pity as she traced lines around his cranium with her delicate fingers "no wonder you didn't want anyone knowing, something like this, the scandal it would cause . . ."
Harry swatted her hands away from his head, his glare never leaving her "Are we done?"
She frowned and looked over her notes "Aside from that, you seem perfectly normal, better than normal, I'd say, judging from the results of your last physical," she assessed "how often do you have to take the medicine?"
"Twice a day," he answered smoothly.
"Do you have enough of the potion?" she motioned towards the flask as Harry nodded.
"Plenty, the doc at Saint Mungo's provided me with more than enough."
She seemed hesitant for a moment before nodding "As long as you promise to take the medicine twice a day, you're free to go," she paused, looking like she wanted to say something "before I graduated from Healer school, I did a thesis on Dolorius Occlumathornia, I discovered that in severe cases, like yours, the patient can suffer from brain damage unless there's a cure found . . ."
Harry didn't say anything; this was nothing new to him.
"You have three years, four maximum before your brain melts down in your skull, according to my research of course, I could be wrong . . ."
Harry's features remained stony on the outside, but on the inside, his mind was travelling at a million miles a second; that piece of information was new to him. One thought was racing through his mind at that moment:
'I should have asked for more than twenty million. . .'
Harry arrived home in a flash of green flames later that evening, under the disguise of a glamour charm, to see Sirius, Archie and Cedric talking animatedly at one of the many booths provided. Harry took a generous sip from his flask before making his way over to the trio; he idly noticed that there were more customers than usual, probably a result of his home being revealed to Wizarding Britain.
"Can we help you?" Archie asked with a frown on his face as Harry took a seat, he secretly took pride in the fact that the three couldn't even come close to seeing through his glamour charm.
"That's an interesting mark you have on your forehead Archades," he said with a grin as the boy's eyes widened "remove any penises from there lately?"
The boy in question tried to swat Harry across the head, only for the Quidditch star to lazily dodge it with a tilt of his head.
"Can somebody tell me what's going on?" Sirius asked with confusion laced in his voice; Cedric seemed to have caught on also.
"It's Harry, Sirius," Cedric explained "no one else calls Archie by his full name, and what does he mean 'remove any penises from there lately'?"
Sirius had a full blown smile on his face, showing his glowing white teeth – no doubt Archie helped him with those also – he had been waiting to get some time in with his godson today.
"That's a rather interesting story Cedric," Harry began "but I shall not bore you with the detail, suffice to say, Archades did something incredibly stupid, and his true nature was revealed to the world."
"That of a dickhead?" he asked amusedly.
"That of a dickhead," Harry confirmed "I'm surprised you got it off already though, I hoped it would at least last the full day . . ."
"Cedric came and helped out," Archie said with a grin "seems he learned a thing or two about Curse Breaking from the books you left at Hogwarts."
Harry rolled his eyes towards the Hufflepuff "I'm glad to know that should you fail at everything else in life, you'd have a career in penis removal when you graduate, I hear Stephanie Zabini would be interested in your services . . ."
Cedric and Sirius chuckled, the latter having been informed of Archie's crush earlier in the evening by the former.
"Hey, she hasn't hit me there for a long time!" Archie tried to defend himself while clutching his testes in phantom pain "I think she could be warming up to me" he commented brightly.
"That, or she's losing interest," Harry decided now that the penis was removed from Archie's forehead, he'd find another way to make his day miserable "maybe she think your penis is horribly inadequate and not worth coming in contact with anymore?"
"Can we stop talking about Penises?" Archie snapped back, as the laughter died down between the four "we were just talking about our little business venture before you decided to grace us with your presence."
"Speaking of which," Harry interrupted "Ringo – Poppy - Chappy!"
To the shock of the three wizards present, three young house elves, two females and one male, appeared out of nowhere with a small pop.
"You is calling for us Master Harry?" the male asked, as all three bowed. Unlike the regular house elves one purchased from the black market, where they would be dressed in potato sacks, these three were dressed in top of the line dragon hide gear.
"Oh Merlin, isn't that cute?" Sirius leaned in close to the young elves "they even have little dragon hide boots. . ."
"You're to answer to Archades over here guys, work out the details of your contracts with him," he motioned towards the gaping boy.
"You got them already?" Archie asked, looking dumfounded "I didn't think you'd get them so quickly . . ."
"You're not ready for this then?" Harry asked with a raised brow.
"NO!" Archie shouted "I mean, yes, I'm ready, I bought and ordered all the cauldrons and materials necessary earlier actually, I just, um," he seemed flustered, Harry reasoned he did technically spring this on him and thrust him into his own business, but this was just too good of a business opportunity to pass up "I don't know where to start . . ."
Harry shrugged "I can extend your room here to have a potion's lab" he began "What did your dad say about working and staying here?"
Cedric flushed when all three turned to him "Uh, he was reluctant at first, but when I told him I wanted to start earning my own money, he couldn't really object, in fact, he approves," he mumbled "I didn't mention the potion brewing though, he just think I'll be working here as a busboy or something . . ."
"Excellent," Harry had thought Cedric's father might shoot down the idea of working in a place like Moony Nights – while many people saw the good it did for the magical creature community, ministry workers like Mister Diggory, were still leery about the idea "we can set him up in your room to make this easier I guess, I'll just have to expand your room with a few charms . . ."
"Hey, I'll help!" Sirius suddenly voiced his thoughts "I don't have much else to do with my time but bum around here, I might as well make myself useful," he shrugged "you can also put the business in my name, better that way, people will be less likely to approach me about your less than wholesome inventory . . ."
Harry hummed thoughtfully "That's not a bad idea," Harry conceded "that and Archades can teach you how to mass produce some of the easier potions so you can continue while we're at school. . ."
"Shouldn't be too hard," Archie shrugged, agreeing with the idea.
"I feel bad about taking all those healing potions from him already anyway, and you don't even need to pay me," he grinned "my loving family left me more than enough money then I know what to do with . . ."
"Hey, the Black family was notorious for being dark," Cedric interrupted, gaining everyone's attention "you think they'd have any tomes on some of the rarer, borderline legal, Potions in their libraries?"
Sirius scoffed "Yeah, probably illegal ones too," Sirius looked at Harry warily "Harry, why is Archie looking at me like that?" Indeed, Archie was looking hungrily at Sirius.
"He does that when the prospect of learning more about Potions arises," he shrugged "how many potions can you make with the first batch of ingredients you ordered?"
"A lot," Archie said sheepishly "I've spent a fair majority of the money I've earned working here, I figured I should start making as many as I can before school starts. . ."
Harry nodded "Good thinking, don't worry, if this goes bust, I'll reimburse you and you get a free personal house elf – speaking of which, guys, can you go and prepare a room in Archades' bedroom to be a potions laboratory?"
"Of course, Master Harry Potter, sir" the smallest of the three, Chappy, squeaked as the three vanished with a pop.
"Cute little buggers," Sirius chuckled "Whoa!" he exclaimed perversely "look at the ass on that!"
"What's prompted this uncharacteristic show of charity, mate?" Archie asked with a raised brow "not that I'm complaining, of course. . ."
Harry shrugged "It has potential to provide a decent amount of profit, and I'm not going to be doing any work for it."
Archie grumbled at Harry's brutal, if not accurate statement, he decided to change the topic "So, did you read the paper today?"
"I did not," Harry answered blandly, he asked "may there perhaps be something about them in there?" referring to the few fans still waiting around for his return.
"Take a look for yourself," Sirius tossed him today's issue of the daily prophet, apparently it had been a topic of discussion for the three guys earlier.
Harry frowned when he saw the paper, the front page had a large picture of his Auror escorts and himself arriving at the ministry after his incarceration to clear all the paperwork involved in his release, it wasn't his best picture, that's for sure. The article read:
Quidditch Star Harry Potter wrongfully imprisoned, and released with apologies!
The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has today issued a public apology to our country's new hero, Harry James Potter, for his wrongful imprisonment at Azkaban following the death of fourth year Hogwarts student Lee Jordan.
The Minister has told us that 'the evidence collected by the Ministry's Auror investigation team was quite conclusive and damning against Mr Potter', however, following further investigation within Hogwarts, it was proven by Ministry Aurors almost a month later that he was indeed innocent.
The public outcry this incident caused against the Ministry didn't help Minister Fudge's popularity at all, but he assured us that 'Mr Potter has been aptly reimbursed for his time spent in prison' although the actual amount remains a secret.
Minister Fudge has expressed his 'sincerest apologies' to Mr Potter and wishes that he can spend his summer at his home in Moony Nights recuperating from this, no doubt, tragic experience.
For More Information on the attacks at Hogwarts refer to article 17, page 8
Harry frowned as he finished reading that article, Fudge obviously added in his living arrangements as a last ditched effort to piss him off without causing him any actual harm – two could play it that game.
Another article on the front page piqued his curiosity, he continued to read:
Civil War in the Werewolf community?
Normally, the odd body of a werewolf being found isn't that much of a surprise in England. The full moon changes them into ravaging beasts and, on more than one occasion, a wizard will be forced to defend themselves with lethal force, or risk being mauled to death.
That's not what has the Prophet vexed however, our sources inform us that bodies of werewolves are being found at an increasing rate, with varying causes of death, however one thing is common amongst all these victims; thick, claw like gashes covering their bodies with large bite marks to accompany them.
We at the prophet believe that there is a group of werewolves, most likely lead by notorious criminal Fenrir Greyback, preying on their brethren who refuse to side with them in their fight against the world.
For more information on criminal Fenrir Greyback, refer to article 23, page 10
That piece of information was troubling indeed, if the prophet was to be believed, especially with all Remus is trying to do for the werewolf community.
"Are you going to do anything about it?" Sirius asked, sounding worried for some reason. It was then that Harry remembered why he originally took the prophet.
"Technically, he's not violating our agreement, he's merely annoying me," Harry shrugged "I daresay he has just pranked me, I'm inclined to reciprocate in kind," Harry replied with a grin, one that was matched by his godfather.
"Oh, I was worried that we won't be able to have any Godson/ Godfather bonding time," he gushed "a prank war against the Minister of Magic, Lucky, you know how to make a guy feel special!"
Harry cringed at the use of his 'nickname', eyeing Cedric who was wondering what it could possibly mean and Archie who was trying to contain his laughter "If you want to bond, you could always teach me how to ride a motorbike. . ."
"Delilah has ensnared you with her feminine wiles too then?" Sirius asked with a grin as Harry rolled his eyes "don't worry, you won't be the first, your dad asked me to teach him to ride too, oh, good times," Sirius continued to reminisce while the three boys eyed him warily.
"Right, Archades, I want to show you something up in my room real quick," seeing Archie looked at him with a raised brow, Harry interrupted him before someone got hurt "if you even think about making a gay joke, I'll make sure the next penis won't be so easy to remove," Archie raised his hands in a non-threatening manner, it was clear he was thinking of doing just that.
"Cedric, I'll call Remus to get you set up with your own apron and what not, he's been expecting you actually," Harry spoke to the Hufflepuff boy, who suddenly felt left out.
"Oh, thanks Harry," he grinned "you sure he doesn't mind?"
Harry shrugged "I'm as much owner of this place as he is," which was true "as long as you don't slack, he could always use more help, especially now that he's boning dear Nymphadora," Sirius let out a bark of laughter while Archie shook his head in amusement.
Cedric looked on with owlish eyes as Harry led Archie up to his room while Sirius called Remus over to them from the bar, to talk about him no doubt.
"Are you sure this is wise, minister?" Cornelius Fudge's assistant questioned pitifully, not wanting to anger his boss by questioning his methods.
"Those vultures in the media are making me out to be an incompetent," Fudge stated angrily "if they want results, then its results they will get."
"But to send the Dementors on a widespread search of Britain for a rat?" his assistant asked incredulously, he quickly took two steps back when Fudge levelled a glare at him "They are rather hard to control, after all."
"They will do what I tell them to do!" Fudge barked angrily, his face turning red from anger "Ever since it was released that Peter Pettigrew was the one who betrayed the Potters and killed all those muggles, people have begun losing faith in our government and judiciary system. . ."
"Won't it only make us look worse if the Dementors start attacking innocent people?" Fudge glared at his assistant who only today begun questioning his decision. He didn't pay the fool to question him; he paid him to agree with everything he said!
"The Dementors will do as instructed!" Fudge bristled in anger "the risk is worth any possible attacks on innocents, the longer this 'Pettigrew' remains free, the more chance I have of being ousted by the Wizengamot!"
"Of course sir," his assistant agreed demurely "how many shall I instruct Azkaban to send on this 'rat hunt'?"
"Leave five Dementors in Azkaban," Fudge ordered "send the rest out all across the UK to search, make sure they know to search everywhere, including Hogwarts," he ordered to his shocked assistant "Make sure you inform all neighbouring foreign ministries also, there are too many places for a rat to hide on this continent and I want this man found!" he bellowed loudly "the Dementors will find him soon enough, and when they do, I can kiss all my problems goodbye" he smirked, happy with his own little joke.
"Technically, the Dementors would be the ones kissing your problems goodbye. . ." Fudge levelled another glare at him "err . . . sir!"
"Just do what I tell you to do!" Fudge roared, as his assistant scurried out of the office to message the guards of Azkaban with their new assignment.
"So, what is it you wanted to show me?" Archie asked as he and Harry entered the latter's room "hopefully its how to make my room look like this," he hoped, awe lacing his voice as Harry led him to the library.
"Unfortunately, no" Harry replied sarcastically as he took a seat behind his desk, motioning Archie to take the only other available seat.
"Harry," Archie began, a little trepidation was clearly distinguishable in his voice "is that a portrait reading history books?"
The portrait in question smirked at him while Harry replied "Your powers of deduction are quite astounding, how do you do it?"
"Harry," Archie ignored Harry's thinly veiled insult and asked another question "is that a portrait of Salazar Slytherin reading history books?"
"What gave it away?" Harry didn't look up from what he was doing "The plaque with his name on it?" Harry asked sarcastically as he began writing something on a spare bit of parchment, seemingly copying from a book filled with runes and writing Archie couldn't hope understand.
"What've you got there?" he asked interestingly as Harry continued to jot down a list of something from one of the pages before flipping towards the back of the book and continuing his list.
"A tome I managed to barter from an acquaintance," Harry's eyes briefly flicked over to Slytherin's portrait, Archie didn't seem to notice "It's very old and very much written in Parseltongue," he continued to jot down random words Archie couldn't quite see as he flipped through more pages.
"What's it about?" Archie asked eagerly "Some really cool snake spells?" he looked excited "Does it tell you how to breed a Hydra?!"
"That bit of information can be found in the book on Serpent Lore, I tried, but I just couldn't find a willing fully matured Runespoor that would breed with a dragon," he sighed wistfully, no doubt remembering something about his past.
"What did he say?" Archie asked curiously as Harry finished jotting down whatever he is he was taking notes of.
"He said you're a moron," Harry answered nonchalantly, ignoring the gaping boy and tossing him the piece of parchment he had just been writing on "tell me what you know of these, mainly their availability and location," Harry more ordered than asked, though Archie took the paper anyway before reading through the list.
After several moments of quickly skimming through the list, Archie looked up at Harry incredulously "You're joking, right?"
"I am not," he replied nonchalantly "why? Is there something funny?"
"You mean other than the fact that these ingredients would be near impossible to get?" Archie asked sarcastically "There are only two items on this list that you can order from rare ingredient sellers and they are bloody expensive," he said "that's the Runespoor and Ashwinder scales. . ."
"Money is not an issue," Harry reminded the boy as he seemed to be pondering on the other items on that list.
"There's only one Phoenix I know of in the world that you'd have access to, and that's the headmaster's one," he pointed out "finding it and getting access to it would be easy enough, getting it to cry tears for you though?" he asked incredulously "good luck, they don't just cry on a whim you know, otherwise Dumbledore would probably be the richest man in the world . . ."
Harry figured that would be the case with that ingredient, he had hoped Archie would know of another owner of a Phoenix though, one that had better control over his bird.
"Antiquus trees are almost extinct, they used to flourish in Africa around a thousand years ago, but over time and with people harvesting their sap like crazy, they've become rather scarce," he recited from memory "and no-one wants to brave Africa and run the chance of running into a Nundu to find out how scarce they are . . ."
That, Harry realized, was quite the problem.
"Mentis flowers aren't too rare," Archie said sarcastically "so long as you can climb to the top of the Himalayas and be sure to be up there during a full moon, which is when they are known to bloom, easy right?" he asked "you good at mountain climbing? Because you can't apparate to a place you've never been before and those muggle flying machines can't get to where you'd need to go either – the place would be too saturated with magic."
Harry felt like banging his head against the desk, but he figured he'd have plenty of need to do that later when Archie finished.
"Kingsfoil would probably be one of the more difficult ones to find, even though it's rather plentiful" he grinned at Harry's confused expression.
"How the hell does that work?"
"Well, the Wood Elves grow them in abundance, they use it for their medicinal herbs, I think," Archie shrugged "problem is, they closed themselves off from the world around seven hundred years ago, and nobody knows where they've hidden themselves . . ."
"I'd imagine in a forest," Harry replied sarcastically "is that all I'd need to do?"
"Well, that and earn their favour, which is just as unlikely, they're rather snobbish according to history books . . ." Harry ignored Salazar's snort of amusement, he seemed to be listening rather intently to their conversation.
"Now, a Lethifold soul fragment, I have no idea how you'd get that," Archie frowned "according to some of my more . . . obscure books, soul essences were used for the more ritualistic potions, it strengthens them tenfold, but I think you'd need someone adept at Necromancy to get you one," he frowned "you know any Necromancers?"
"One," Harry nodded "is that all?"
"Well, no," he replied, rather surprised that Harry knew someone who practised the ancient art "you'd actually have to kill the Lethifold before extracting its soul essence, do you know how to kill one? Because I, and the rest of us mere mortals, don't" he grinned at Harry's annoyed expression.
"A Necromancer should be able to kill one also, they were, after all, the ones who originally created the beasts," Salazar sagely informed, his history books forgotten.
"What'd he say?" Archie asked quickly.
"He said you had a small penis, continue!" Harry snapped as Archie glared at the portrait who was matching his glare with amusement.
"Well, getting a Gorgon's blood is simple enough, I just have no idea where you'd find a Gorgon," he shrugged "go with what legends say, they'd probably be somewhere in Greece . . ."
"I'd normally say Basilisk venom would be impossible to get, simply because I have no idea where you'd find one, fortunately, we know where a dead one is right now . . ." Archie frowned, ignoring Harry's wince and Salazar's furious, hate filled, glare.
"A mature female Vorpala, oh joy," Archie rolled his eyes in annoyance "as big as the Basilisk we fought in the Chamber, but a heck of a lot faster – good thing they're not as powerful though," Harry noticed Salazar looking smug "I read up about them after that incident," he chuckled at that memory "they're usually found in the colder European countries, mostly in dark caves, Siberia would probably be your best bet . . ."
"They were quite plentiful in Romania, back in my time," Salazar chipped in "they'd probably migrate north though to seek colder temperatures; weird serpents, the Vorpala are, the only ones that actively seek out the cold . . ."
"Oh you did not," Harry replied to Salazar's hissing, naturally, Archie thought it was an insult directed at him.
"Willingly given vampire blood, I'd imagine, would be easy for you, since you're so friendly with mister Lestat and his ridiculously good looking wife," he rolled his eyes while Harry made a disapproving noise.
"Vampire's are very possessive of their blood," Harry informed his friend "especially one as old as Lestat, it'd be flooded with his magic. Something like that could easily be used against him, if I was to ask him for his blood, he'd literally poor it into the cauldron himself rather than give it to me, its safer that way . . ."
"Cauldron? These are for potions?" Archie asked, suddenly extremely interested.
"Tell me about that last one and we can discuss that after," Harry instructed.
"Rose vine is easy enough to get if you can get in the middle of the Amazon," Archie shrugged "no one forms expeditions to go and farm the stuff, but if they see it, they'll take it. I'd know if somebody had some on hand, and unfortunately, no one I know does . . ."
"That may change within the next few years," Harry mumbled under his breath "well, you wanted to know what those were for, correct?"
Archie nodded enthusiastically, always ready to learn more about different kinds of potions.
"Well, I can only tell you one of them, the other is rather personal," he lied smoothly "the first batch of ingredients are for the Elixir of Renewal, it's the elixir that will cure my mother."
Archie winced sympathetically "Tough break."
Harry shrugged "I'll get the materials, just be ready to brew the potion when its time – the problem is, they're both ritualistic potions, and thus, both will need the Serpent Staff to complete the rituals."
"Aesculapius healing magic staff thing, right?" Archie asked, Harry confirmed with a nod "well, do you have any information on it?"
Harry motioned towards Slytherin "He did research it quite a bit, his books provided me with some useful information," Harry shrugged "nothing concrete, but it gives me a place to start."
"Which is where?"
"Well, Aesculapius lived in a temple off the coast of Greece, one that would be, most likely, heavily warded with Parsel magic wards. . ." Harry began.
"Wait, you guessed most of these things would require curse-breaking skills to find, didn't you?" the awe wasn't hard to place in his voice "how long have you been planning this?"
Harry shrugged "For as long as I can remember, whatever useful knowledge I could learn, I did."
"Even the money, you knew you'd need money to go searching for most of this shit, so you became a Quidditch star, one of the highest paid jobs in the Wizarding world. . ." he laughed at the absurdity "man, you really need to get laid!"
Harry let that one slide "The Elixir should be able to put my mother back into the state she was in right before her last sustained injury," Harry reiterated what he learned "seeing as right after falling in that coma, she was practically whisked away into Saint Mungo's, sheltered for the past twelve or so years, it should reverse the effects of whatever was cast on her, regardless of what spell it was."
Archie frowned "That sounds like a ritual more focused on time than actual healing . . ."
"Well, yeah," Harry shrugged "it's kind of a last resort if you can't cure someone, and seeing as that deranged boot-licker of a woman obliviated herself the second she could, we have no idea how my mother got to be in her current position."
"It's sound in theory," Archie said slowly, after several moments of silence "but seeing as so much time has passed, it'd have to be one powerful potion, and I don't think this would have been created for such long periods of time. . ."
"He is correct, unfortunately," Salazar spoke up "though, there is mentioning of some sort of Chalice, created by Aesculapius, that increases the potency of whatever potion is drunk from it hundredfold."
"Is that so?" Harry was looking off into space "you wouldn't happen to know where I would find said artefact, would you?"
The portrait of the man shrugged "Find the staff and no doubt you'll find the cup, they were both probably used in conjunction with each other for any healing rituals the man performed."
"Well, that problem is sorted out," Harry informed the bewildered Archie "will you be able to give me more accurate locations of those materials by the time we graduate Hogwarts?" Harry asked tiredly "think of it as a favour for backing your business."
Archie frowned and looked at the book on Harry's desk, the one he copied the ingredients from "Give me a translated copy of that book and I'll be your little bitch," Archie promised "the information in there could be so useful . . ." he said wistfully.
"Done," Harry quickly agreed, he was going to give it to him as a birthday present anyway; it was nothing off his back.
"Wicked!" Archie gushed and immediately left to his room to do god knows what.
When Archie was well and truly gone, Salazar decided to ask the question that had been on his mind since he heard the list of ingredients.
"I've made it my life's work to study Aesculapius' magic and I know everything there is, or was, to know about him," he began "I recognize the ingredients for the second ritual you intend to perform clearly, the question is, why?"
"Why not? Clearly you can see the benefits," Harry replied, reverting to the snake language that Salazar preferred.
"You don't come off as the reckless type, and the risks involved in performing that Ritual are far too great to even consider the benefits it could theoretically provide," Salazar mused "Which then means you have no other choice but to perform it," he pointed out with a smirk.
"As usual, you've used your obviously extremely brilliant mind, assessed the facts and come to the obvious conclusion, would you like a cookie?" he asked sarcastically "what is your point?"
"My point," he said, scowling at Harry's cheek "is that you have Dolorius Occlumathornia, the very disease that killed . . ." Harry looked up to see great pain in the man's glassy eyes "the very disease that killed Rowena – Lady Ravenclaw," he quickly amended. Harry was, needless to say, rather shocked at the uncharacteristic behaviour, maybe there was more to Salazar Slytherin than meets the eye "You fear that your brain may implode, just as hers did over time," he chuckled darkly.
"You've obviously discovered the ritual I intend to use, I guess I owe you two cookies," he replied coldly, not liking how the cunning founder was reading into his motives so easily.
"The Mind Magic Ritual," Salazar hissed with a grin "a ritual to strengthen and repair the magical pathways flowing through one's brain, the possible benefits of such a ritual could be astronomical," he said wistfully "the very same ritual I intended to perform on Rowena so I could save her life," he sighed.
Harry raised a curious brow at that, that's not what Lestat had told him"I was lead to believe that it was your mother you were seeking the Serpent Staff for," Harry ignored the man's scowl "that you were in love with her, and couldn't bare to see her in pain, and thus, dedicated your life to curing her."
Salazar didn't confirm nor deny the statement; he merely chose to glare at Harry who had his hands steepled in front of his mouth while returning Salazar's gaze.
Ignoring the stubborn portrait, Harry placed his hand under the lip of his desk, running his hand over the nondescript notches that decorated its furnished surface. Reaching the seventeenth one from the left, Harry allowed his finger to sink into the notch. Instead of his finger meeting the resistance one would expect to meet when pressing against hard mahogany wood, his finger sank in, as if that particular notch was a button.
A small click was heard and a small compartment on the underside of the desk sprung open, revealing single book, nothing too extravagant, in fact, it merely looked like a notebook or a small journal of sorts.
Taking the book out of the drawer, Harry flipped through the pages slowly, yet not at a slow enough speed to thoroughly examine each page's contents.
Hundreds upon hundreds of Arithmatic equations filled the pages of this notebook, an odd diagram or two neatly drawn and animated every few pages to provide more detail and an accurate description of the equation's effects.
'My Masterpiece . . .' he thought fondly, as his eyes rested on the latest set of Arithmatic equations and the diagram they were paired with; a diagram of a spectacular flame swirling around the small image of a wizard with his wand raised. These were no ordinary flames though, no. These flames were black.
'Amaterasu; that which illuminates heaven' he mused as he looked for his pen and continued where he last left off'how appropriate, that black flames could illuminate a place that is so light, it's almost poetic . . .'
It wouldn't be long now until his masterpiece was complete.
Lestat kept his annoyance in check regarding this current situation. It was rare that the elder council would call upon any vampire more than once a century, to be called three times in a month was rather frustrating.
The elder council consisted of the three eldest vampire alive – or not dead again, if you wanted to be technical – at any one time. Their identities were a well kept secret amongst the elder vampire community, mainly for their own safety. Technically, they were some of the most powerful beings on the planet, but why would the vampire community risk being thrown into chaos by simply not taking precautions?
The youngest of the three elders and the most recent addition to their ranks was Dracul Miklos, a Romanian vampire, at least he thought so judging by the name, who was well respected in the vampirian community for his leadership abilities and marvellous skills with a blade. He was, to Lestat's calculations, just over three thousand years old.
The second oldest vampire in existence, Nakajima Isamu, was a vampire living in Japan and a Metamorphagus. This allowed him to change through identities easily and live amongst regular people at will, which is probably why he was the richest man in the world. Isamu probably owned all of the largest companies in the world, and nobody would ever know because he would do so under different names. Lestat estimated his age to be roughly fifty five hundred years old.
The eldest vampire by far, and leader of the elder council was a mystery to all, including Lestat. The only thing he could definitively say about her was that she was indeed a woman, extremely powerful, had the gift of foresight and had to be around ten thousand years old. Lestat could make guesses as to her origins, but that is all they would be, wild guesses, with no proof to back his claims.
"Do you know why we have called you here Lestat?" the mysterious leader of the council spoke up, a dark crimson cloak covering her features from his keen eyesight so he couldn't even see the colour of her skin.
"I'm beginning to believe that you must enjoy my company," he replied sarcastically in the ancient and noble vampirian tongue "that or you think my time is not as valuable as your own."
"Of course it is not!" replied none other than Dracul; did he forget to mention that the man was as arrogant as they come?
"Lestat, stay your tongue," the comforting yet demanding voice of their leader spoke, Lestat only did so out of respect for her, not because of Dracul "We would like to know what you think of young Harry Potter, we know you have met with him recently."
Slightly alarmed at how much they knew of his secretive life, he took a few moments to choose his words before speaking "You are taking an unhealthy interest in such a young mortal," he began, noticing that Dracul was becoming impatient "however, if it is the will of the council, who am I to dispute it?" he collected his thoughts "the boy is talented, and to say that he is only talented for his age would be an insult to him," he began, slightly unnerved by Isamu's silent presence "you know already of what drives him and his goals, he has recently come into possession of some texts that will bring him all the more closer to reaching them . . ."
"That is not what we want to know," Isamu finally spoke up "our leader has foreseen that the boy has the potential to change the world, for better or for worse, we do not know; we do not like being left in the dark about matters that concern us, Lestat."
"He is powerful," Lestat conceded "his skill and potential with magic far exceeds anyone I have ever met before. I believe that he can achieve anything he puts his mind to, and anyone that gets in his way will most likely meet an early end."
Silence reigned in the council chambers for several moments until the eldest vampire in the room spoke up again "That is interesting, most interesting . . ." she mused "you are not playing up his abilities for us, are you Lestat?"
Lestat bristled, he disliked it when people challenged his honour; these fossils dare think he would lie? "You hardly need my word to describe his abilities, you have foreseen it yourselves that the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort will return to his body soon, no doubt young Harry will be involved in one way or another – whether he likes it or not."
The three elders shared a glance before nodding to Lestat "You may leave with one order," Isamu spoke. "You are not to directly help him with the task we spoke of during our last meeting, if he is to be ready for the dark times ahead, he must face these trials alone less you are absolutely needed. Do we have an understanding?"
"We do," Lestat replied icily as he turned on his heel and stalked out of the chamber, his dark grey eyes betraying no emotion what-so-ever.