“I said, Salazar lives!”

The wall shook with what appeared to be laughter, refusing to expose the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Pansy Parkinson growled under her breath and kicked at the wall, immediately grabbing her toe as a sharp pain shot through it. She was cursing a blue streak when the Slytherin Head of House came down the corridor.

“Ms. Parkinson, why on earth are you spouting such foul language?” Severus hissed, watching as the young girl put her foot back on the floor and gave him a sheepish look. He was sure he was the only Professor in Hogwarts who could inspire this behaviour in his Slytherins.

“I’m sorry, Professor Snape. The entrance to the common room won’t open, and I’ve given the correct password at least ten times! I know it’s correct, because I set it last week!”

Severus frowned as he moved towards the wall which he knew hid the entrance to Slytherin, pressing his palm against the cold stone. The wall rumbled at his touch, but the entrance still did not expose itself. He whispered the emergency password all Heads of House knew, and the wall slid neatly open to reveal the Slytherin common room.

“How’d you get it to open, sir?” Pansy asked as she glared at the offending wall.

“There is a special password that allows all Heads into any common room in case of emergency. Apparently, it doesn’t like the password you’ve set.”

“Well I’ve had to come up with them by myself all year, considering Malfoy isn’t doing his Prefect duties anymore. Sir,” Pansy snapped. She had hardly seen Draco all year, and now her one-time best friend was cuddling up to Harry Potter. It made her sick.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache he knew would be coming soon. It was true that he’d been so busy worrying about Harry and Draco that he’d essentially abandoned the rest of his Slytherins. He planned to fix that, and soon.

“You know there are extenuating circumstances that keep Draco from his Prefect duties, Ms. Parkinson.”

“Yeah, like screwing Harry Potter,” Pansy mumbled under her breath. She apparently didn’t mumble it quietly enough, however, because the Potions Master was now glaring at her.

“Need I remind you that Harry Potter is my son?” Severus snapped, ready to give detentions until the girl graduated. The nerve, saying something like that right in front of him!

“No sir, I don’t think I’d ever be able to forget that.”

Severus glared at the defiant girl, drawing himself up as he pulled out his wand. He was glad to see the girl cower in fear, be he merely gave it a casual flick in a random direction. “Twenty points from Slytherin.”

“Professor!”

“You should know after six years of being in my House that talking back to your Head is unacceptable, especially while insulting me in the process!”

“But I – ”

Severus slashed his hand in front of him to cut off her speech, too angry to do much else. “I suggest you stop speaking this instant, Ms. Parkinson, and go about your business before I take even more points. Oh, and detention this Saturday.”

Pansy had a hard time keeping the sneer off her face as she nodded succinctly, then entered the Slytherin common room. The wall slid shut behind her, leaving Severus to stare at the wall. When had his Slytherins started to think it was alright to insult him? And why on earth wouldn’t the common room open to the appropriate password? It was time to talk to Dumbledore.

S~S~S~S

“I swear, Headmaster! The portrait was speaking Greek, thoroughly confusing my Prefects and other students when they’d try to get through. Did Severus not report to you the incident in which Mr. Potter nearly plummeted to his death?”

Severus came up behind Professor McGonagall, whose face was scrunched in apparent rage as she glared at the Headmaster, who was simply smiling serenely at her.

“I have indeed informed Albus of my son’s near death experience. He claims it was a freak accident. However, the Slytherin common room is now refusing to respond to the passwords that the Prefects set. I had to use the emergency password to allow a student access. This is getting ridiculous, Albus. Something is obviously amiss,” Severus said firmly, nodding back when Minerva gave him a firm nod of approval.

The door banged open once more just as Dumbledore was about to speak, causing them all to jump. Hagrid came bustling through the doorway, ducking down to avoid hitting his head. “Headmaster Dumbledore, sir! Jus’ had three students bring me ther injured owls, said the Owlery’s been blocked off, it ‘as!”

Albus could ignore the facts no longer. The castle’s ancient wards were malfunctioning, and he needed to get to the bottom of it fast, before any more of the staff or students ended up with injuries. “It seems as though the ancient wards woven into the castle itself have begun to go amiss. I shall look into the process of fixing such a thing. For now, be on high alert and inform your Prefects to be on alert as well. I fear this may not be an easy problem to solve.”

S~S~S~S

Remus didn’t mind playing what some would refer to as the ‘house wife’. He liked cooking, cleaning gave him time to think, and making sure Harry had his school work done before gallivanting off with Draco felt like a privilege to him. What he didn’t like, however, was cleaning the soot from the floo off the Persian carpet. Severus insisted it was too delicate to be cleaned by spells, so by hand it had to be. Remus especially hated when the post decided to come through while he was on his knees cleaning the rug, and ended up with a face full of scrolls and envelopes, along with a fresh wave of soot.

Remus grumbled as he stood up, brushing the soot off his shirt and grabbing up the post. He set aside all of the things for Severus and himself, and ended up with a single letter addressed to Draco. He paused as he examined the violently pink envelope, which smelled of cheap perfume. This didn’t bode well for the Slytherin. Remus knocked on Harry’s bedroom door, which wasn’t supposed to be closed while both boys were in there.

“Yes?” Harry answered, sticking his head out the door while Draco quickly pulled his shirt and tie back on out of sight.

“You know the rules, Harry. No closed doors. I don’t want to hear it from your father again. There’s a letter for Draco, though I would advise him to check it for curses and such before opening it. It doesn’t look like his usual post.” Remus handed the pink envelope to Harry and made to walk down the hall to his own bedroom, but paused and turned back in time to see Harry sigh in relief.

“And Harry, I think it would be wise to remember that I can smell the pheromones coming off of you in waves. You may be able to dupe Severus, but it won’t work on me,” Remus said with a smirk, watching the blush stain the young Gryffindor’s cheeks as he smiled sheepishly.

“Right...I’ll remember that,” said Harry. He closed his bedroom door and ducked inside, his cheeks still stained red as he held out the envelope to Draco. “Looks like a creepy love letter.”

Draco grimaced at the revolting pink colour of the envelope as he took it from Harry using on his thumb and forefinger. Pulling his wand, he cast a few detection spells over the letter to check for curses and poisons. It came up clean.

“Who on earth would send me something as ghastly as this?” Draco asked as he slit the envelope open and pulled out the lavender parchment that smelled strongly of perfume. His eyes widened as he read, and by the end, he was shaking in rage.

Harry came up to read over his shoulder, and scowled. A girl named Claudia Van Otten was writing to Draco, exclaiming her excitement at their brand new engagement, arranged by her parents and Lucius Malfoy of course. She was a pure-blood from a wealthy German family, and she couldn’t wait to meet Draco this summer to plan their wedding. Harry felt ill.

“I’m going to kill my father.”

“Draco –”

Draco spun around and glared at Harry, though his anger was obviously directed at the letter and its contents. He couldn’t believe the audacity of that meddling man he called his father! “No, Harry, you don’t understand. Do you know what will happen if I deny this engagement?”

Harry looked completely perplexed. Draco was acting as though this letter was serious, and not some lame attempt on his father’s part to sway him back to heterosexuality. “Er....no?”

Draco huffed as he crushed the parchment in his hands, glaring at the offending pink envelope so hard, Harry was surprised it didn’t go up in flames. “This isn’t just some simple arranged marriage, Harry. It’s part of my duties as a pure-blood Heir. If I deny the engagement, I’ll be disinherited and shunned. I’ll no longer be a Malfoy.”

Harry would never understand pure-blood traditions and how important being an Heir to an ancient Wizarding family was. Draco was obviously highly upset about this, but Harry had no idea what to say to the blonde. “Would your father really do that to you? Doesn’t he want you to be happy?”

“Yes, he would do it, as he’s the one who set this all up, and apparently he couldn’t give a shite less if I was completely miserable! This has gone too far,” Draco seethed as he shoved the letter into his pocket and grabbed his cloak from Harry’s bed. “I’m going to settle this with him. If it means losing my family and fortune to be with you, so be it, but I’m not letting my father get away with this without a fight.”

Harry smiled sadly at the Slytherin as he pulled him into a tight hug, kissing him gently on the lips. “I don’t want you to have to give up so much for me, Draco.”

“This isn’t your decision, Harry. I’d rather be completely poor with no name and be with you, then be a rich Malfoy with a wife and an Heir, just to carry on the name. It’s not right, and my father has gone too far this time. I love you, Harry, and I meant it when I said forever,” Draco said quietly, hugging the brunette close to his chest. He’d come too far with the Gryffindor to let his father mess things up for him.

“I love you too, Draco, and I meant it too. Do you want me to go with you?” Harry asked as he pulled reluctantly away from the embrace. He’d never seen Draco look so strong and determined before, and he knew without a doubt that he would have his way, no matter what.

“No, this is something I have to do alone, but thank you. I’ll be back.” Draco leaned in and pressed his lips slowly against Harry’s, pouring all of his emotions into the kiss as Harry kissed him back just as passionately.

“Good luck,” Harry said quietly as he watched Draco leave, suddenly feeling extremely lonely. He was glad when Remus rounded the corner and gave him a knowing look, opening his arms and welcoming Harry’s tight hug.

S~S~S~S

On the way back to his dungeon quarters, Severus saw Draco heading down a mostly unused corridor of the dungeons, and picked up his steps to catch up with the blonde. He was walking quite quickly and seemed to be in a terrible mood.

“Draco? Where are you going, and what’s wrong?”

Draco’s steps faltered as he looked over his shoulder to see the Potions Master catching up with him. He wasn’t supposed to let Severus know where his father was, but right now, Draco was feeling absolutely no good will towards the man who sired him. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest as he looked around to make sure no one would hear him.

“I’m going to tell my father just where he can stick his stupid engagement machinations, and then probably hex him before going back to Harry.”

Severus’ brow creased as the blonde’s eyes flashed dangerously. Terrible didn’t even begin to cover what mood his godson was in. “Engagement? What do you mean?”

“I mean my father has set up an arranged marriage with a German girl that I’ve never even met, even though he knows I’m with Harry and plan to be so for the rest of my life. He seems to think this is just a phase. I’ve told you this before. This time he’s gone too far! He invoked the Heir’s Duty; if I deny the engagement, I’ll be disinherited,” Draco explained, feeling his heart rate speed up at the idea once more. The thought of not being with Harry terrified him, but he’d never allow that to happen.

“Heir’s Duty? Forgive me, Draco, but you know I am not all too familiar with the pure-blood customs, as I was raised by a Muggle father. Elaborate, if you would?” Severus asked patiently, a little irritated that he didn’t know about a branch of magic. He was very proud of his intelligence when it came to obscure magic, but he apparently missed the lesson on this one.

“The Heir’s Duty is a special form of magic that is invoked when the head of a pure-blood family makes requests regarding the family name, wealth, and overall social and political standing of the Heir. If the Heir should refuse, deny, or ignore the duties, they will be disinherited and shunned. I won’t even be a Malfoy anymore.”

“Lead the way; I’ll be there with you,” Severus said firmly, completely filled with rage. How could Lucius do something like this to his own son, to Severus’ son? He was sick to death of blood superiority and all of the nonsense that came with.

Draco shook his head and lifted a hand as if to stall his godfather. “No, I want to do this on my own. My father needs to understand how serious I am about Harry, and I don’t need a protector.”

“Do you intend to allow yourself to be disinherited, Draco?” Severus asked softly, knowing very well that if it were a choice between his wealth and Harry, Draco would choose the Gryffindor. He had enough faith and knowledge of the boys’ relationship to be fully confident in that.

“If that’s what it has to come down to, then yes. It’s time my father learned that he can’t control me any longer and that after everything he’s put our family through, it will be worth it to drop the soiled Malfoy name.”

Severus sighed and nodded, brandishing his hand as if allowing the Slytherin to proceed without him. He knew he couldn’t follow his godson into this battle, no matter how much he wanted to. “Draco, do try not to curse your father. As much as I hate to say it, he could curse you twenty times over before you even pulled your wand, and I do not wish for you to be hurt.”

Draco rolled his eyes, but nodded his agreement not to curse his father, though that was what he had been most looking forward to. However, he knew it wouldn’t solve anything, and would only make things worse, if anything. If he wanted to be treated like an adult, then he must act like one. He set off towards his father’s private room once more, formulating his argument as he went.

Once Draco had touched the wall and had his magical signature identified, he started to feel less and less sure of himself. What if his father refused to leave him anything? Surely Severus would take him in and make sure he had everything he needed until Draco could support himself. He wasn’t at all as materialistic as most people assumed. If it was a choice between the high lifestyle and Harry, there was no question that he would give it all up for the green-eyed boy hero who stole his heart right out of the blue.

“Draco? I wasn’t expecting a visit. Come in, Son. I have some news for you!” Lucius said with a smug smile as he directed Draco to sit down on the edge of the bed while he finished writing across a long scroll of parchment at his small desk off to the side.

Draco closed the door behind him, but remained standing just in front of it with his arms crossed over his chest, not returning his father’s arrogant smile. “I’ve got some news for you too. Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, setting up an engagement with some German Heiress I’ve never met before? For one, dearest father, I’m gay! And two, I’m in love with Harry, and nothing is going to change that.”

Lucius slammed his quill down as he stood from his chair, glaring down at his only son. “How dare you speak to me that way? I am your father and I demand respect, boy! It is your duty to provide the Malfoy name with an Heir to keep the line going. I do not care what you think your sexual preference is, or who you’re supposedly in love with. You will marry a proper pure-blooded witch and sire a male Heir, or I’ll be forced to disinherit you!”

“Don’t I have a choice in this at all? You expect me just to do as you command? Well it might have been easy to control me as a child, but not anymore. I’m nearly of age, and it’s time I made my own bloody decisions!”

“Of course you do not have a choice! Would you rather the Malfoy name die out with you, the fortune dwindle and disappear because you were too selfish to follow your duties?” Lucius hissed dangerously.

Draco scoffed, glaring right back at the elder blonde. “You’re the one forcing my hand in this! If the Malfoy name dies, it will be your fault for stripping me of it! I don’t care about the bloody money, Dad. Some things are more important than wealth!”

“You would give up everything, Draco, to fulfil some youthful fantasy and run off with a half-blood who’s marked for death by the Dark Lord? The Manor, the vaults, the heirlooms, the name, and me; it would all be gone,” Lucius said quietly, taking a step closer to his son, proud of the way the younger man held his ground and stood still.

 “I don’t care if you take the clothes off my back; I love Harry, and I plan to be with him forever. So fuck your family name, and fuck your fortune. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore,” Draco hissed, willing the burning behind his eyes to go away. He firmly believed in what he’d said, but that didn’t make turning his back on his father and his entire family legacy any easier.

Lucius stood, shocked that his son was indeed completely serious about his relationship with The-Boy-Who-Lived. If it was so important that his son would give up literally everything for this boy, then it had to be real. This was not a phase, nor a fluke. This was what Lucius had been looking for. He raised his chin and let a slow smirk cross his features, loving the way his son looked fearful and determined at the same time. He had raised the boy well.

“Claudia Van Otten does not exist, nor was there ever any arranged marriage. It was all a test, Son, to see just how serious you were about your relationship with Potter. It seems as though I was wrong, if you’re willing to give everything up for the boy. If this is what you want, then I will allow it. However, I do expect an Heir, somehow. You’re a creative young man; you’ll find a way,” Lucius said confidently, holding back his laughter at the sheer shock he saw written across his son’s face.

“A test? This was all a test? If you were trying to test my sanity, then it worked! Bloody hell, Dad, I was ready to give up everything, walk away from you and the Malfoy name. How could you ever think I wasn’t serious about Harry? You know I don’t make vapid decisions.” Draco breathed heavily in relief as he sat down on the edge of his father’s bed, afraid his legs would give out. He couldn’t believe his father had hoodwinked him like that. He supposed he shouldn’t be too surprised, however; it was a very Slytherin thing to do.

Lucius sat beside his son, wrapping an arm around the boy’s shoulder and pulling him closer. “I did not believe that you were mature enough to make such a decision, or to have such deep feelings for someone else, especially another young man. I thought that perhaps the threat of losing your wealth and name would make you realize that your feelings were just youthful lust, but I have been proven wrong. I know you well enough to know that if you’re willing to give everything up, then you must love Potter more than I could ever have imagined.”

Draco allowed himself to be pulled into a loose embrace by his father’s side, feeling his emotions go crazy as he thought about the fact that he had almost given this up, had almost turned his back on his father whom he loved so very much, despite his faults. It would have been extremely hard to handle, but worth it in the end when he got to spend the rest of his life with Harry. Now he could have both, and his heart swelled with happiness. He hated that his father had gone to such extremes to finally realize Draco was very serious about his feelings for Harry, but he was glad that it happened, if only to clear the air between them. He had already lost his mother; he didn’t want to lose his father too.

“I do love him, Father, more than I could ever try to explain. But I want you to know that I love you too, and I never wanted to have to give either of you up –” Draco was cut off as his father raised a hand to stall him.

“Your loyalty is not in question, Draco. I knew what I was getting into, and I prepared myself for your ire. I love you too, Son. I just hope you understand what you’re getting yourself into. You’re essentially the Dark Lord’s second worst enemy, being Potter’s right-hand man,” Lucius pointed out.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t follow Harry on the Light side. He doesn’t have minions or followers; he has friends and people who care about him and want to end this stupid war. He has equals, and I’m one of them. I do not stand behind Harry, but firmly beside him.”

Lucius nodded slowly in acceptance, knowing his son was right in the end. “Well since I cannot dissuade you from putting yourself out there into the thick of things, I will allow you to join the Order, but only once you’re of age.”

Draco beamed at his father, wrapping him a quick hug before pulling away once more. “You know I turn seventeen in just a few months, right?”

“Do not remind me of how very old I am, Draco. It’s uncouth.”

Draco chuckled and hugged his father once more, glad that he hadn’t been forced to give the man up. He vowed to make sure his father got through this war, so that they would have time to rebuild a proper father-son relationship.

S~S~S~S

“Harry, good to see you again! I hope you’re doing ok after the last incident with the staircases?”

Harry sat down in the chair facing Dumbledore, willing the embarrassed blush from spreading across his cheeks. He knew now that it wasn’t his fault, what with all of the other crazy things going on in the castle, but it still didn’t make him feel any less stupid about the situation.

“Yes, sir, I’m fine,” Harry answered, having nothing better to say. He had had to leave Draco, who was gushing that his father had played him for a fool and now accepted their relationship, in order to come to the surprise meeting that his father informed him about upon his return to their quarters.

“Good, good. Well then, I have another memory to show you, but this time it is not my own. I do not know if you are aware, but the Headmaster’s portraits all around this room have retained their memories from when they were alive, as well as what they continue to see as portraits. Taking advantage of this, I extracted a memory from my predecessor, Armando Dippet, that I think you’ll find quite fascinating. There is another memory mixed in as well, to show the things that Professor Dippet did not see, but are of the same event. I retrieved those from dear old Phineas,” said Dumbledore, his smile gentle and his eyes twinkling as ever.

Harry felt a stab of sadness every time the Headmaster smiled at him, and felt like he should be keeping count of how many of those adoring smiles he received before he’d never see it again. Shaking his morbid thoughts away, Harry followed Dumbledore to the pensieve, which was sitting on a low table on the other side of the large office. He watched as the elderly wizard took a vial of swirling memories from a shelf, popped the cork, and tipped it into the pensieve.

“After you, my boy.”

After a very short fall this time, Harry found himself standing in the same exact place he had just left, Dumbledore appearing just beside him seconds later. He turned as he heard the sound of a quill against parchment and saw the previous Headmaster at what he’d always thought of as Dumbledore’s desk. There was a gentle knock on the door, grabbing the then-Headmaster’s attention.

“Come in.”

The boy who walked through the door looked much the same as he had when Harry first saw him four years previous, though there were dark smudges under his eyes, and he looked a bit thinner. Tom Riddle was a suave and elegant young man, who had the same air of power about him that Harry had felt the first time he had come across Lucius Malfoy. Harry was also glad to note that there was almost no comparison for likeness between himself and the older version of Tom.

“Tom, what a surprise! Only gone one day and back for more!” Headmaster Dippet said with a smile that was much colder than Dumbledore’s, but not unfriendly. He seemed more sprightly than Dumbledore as well, and Harry vaguely wondered how the man had died when he was clearly much younger than Dumbledore was now.

Tom remained standing just behind the guest chair, his expression carefully masked into one of indifference. He brushed off the front of his emerald robes as if being in the castle once more had soiled his clothing. Harry wanted very much to punch him.

“Headmaster Dippet,” Tom said with a cordial nod of his head. “As Professor Slughorn might have already informed you, I have been planning on asking for a teaching position here since my sixth year. I feel my time would be best spent imparting knowledge to the Magical children I once was a part of.”

Headmaster Dippet’s smile fell a little, but he mostly just looked confused at the barely of-age boy before him. “Tom, you’ve only graduated a day ago, and you’ve been of age for just a few short months! I require my Professors to have a little more life experience before taking on such a stressful job as a Hogwarts Professor. What subject would you even teach?”

“Defence Against the Dark Arts, sir. I have been the top of my class since I first started attending, and I graduated with honours. My N.E.W.T.s alone qualified me for Mastery. Given that I have been forced to take care of myself for nearly my entire life, I think it’s safe to argue that I have more life experience than most Professors already teaching here,” Tom said, his voice still calm and careful, though his eyes seemed to darken with every word.

“I believe there is actually an ancient provision against anyone under a certain age being able to teach here at Hogwarts, Tom. It is out of my hands, I’m afraid. Come back in a few years, after you’ve had time to explore your options, and we shall discuss this again,” said Dippet, feeling a little nervous now. He had heard the rumours, listened to Albus warn him about this boy. It seemed they may have all been correct.

“I want to see this provision,” Tom demanded, his anger now starting to show through. He had researched for hours in the restricted section, and no mention of any age provisions had ever come up before.

The Headmaster frowned, wondering if he could stall the boy some other way, but the fierce look in his dark eyes was enough to tell him that nothing short of seeing the provision in writing would get this boy to leave. “Yes, yes. The logs are back in my quarters. I’ll just nip back real quickly and fetch it. Excuse me for a moment.”

Harry braced himself as a strange swirling sensation went on around him. He looked over and saw Dumbledore standing serenely as the world spun. When it was over, Harry was standing on the other side of the office. This must be the second memory, then.

Tom watched the Headmaster disappear through the door behind his desk, smirking when the door closed behind the old man. Glancing to the right, he saw the glint of the candle light reflecting off of a sword; Godric Gryffindor’s sword. He stepped over, reaching out a hand to smooth his finger down the side of the blade. The rubies that glittered in the hilt looked like molten fire. He trailed a hand over the jewels, and felt a surge of glee when he felt one of the rubies come loose at his touch. He caught the red stone and quickly placed it in an inner pocket of his robes.

The door to the Headmaster’s quarters opened once more, and Tom turned quickly to face Dippet. As Harry watched, he could have sworn he saw the darkness of Tom’s eyes flare red for just a second. He felt chills running up his spine. The world around him whirled sickeningly once more, and Harry was back where he had started.

“Here we are. Now, this is written in ancient Latin, but a translation spell should help with that. Ah, yes, this page here.” Dippet turned the tissue-thin parchment pages until he came to the middle of the large tome. He pointed his wand at the page, and the letters began to rearrange themselves into English.

“‘No persons under the age of two and ten years, which is twenty, shall be qualified to teach magicks at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.’ So there you have it, Tom. Three more years and you can apply! Go out and explore the world around you before settling down in a job, son. It’s the best course of action,” said the Headmaster with a genuine smile. He was glad he had valid reason to refuse the boy who had inspired such dark rumours.

Tom sniffed as he moved closer and read the page for himself. He knew there were special binding spells that had to be performed with Professors, and if he didn’t meet the provisions, the binding wouldn’t take. He would be back, and he would get that position. For now, he had achieved at least one goal. He fingered the ruby in his pocket with a smile of his own.

“Thank you, Headmaster. I’ll be back in a few years, I promise you that.”

“I believe you, Tom, I believe you.”

Harry felt himself being lifted, and knew the memory was over. He landed again in the same spot he had just left, messing with his head a little bit to see the changes in the office from then and now. The Headmaster gestured for Harry to take a seat.

“Tom Riddle did indeed come back years later, though many more than three, and ask again for a teaching position. At the time, I had become Headmaster, and the rumours and strict knowledge of the man that had fashioned himself Lord Voldemort were no longer a secret. I denied him the position once more, and that was when the curse began. After that, no Professor lasted longer than a year in the Defence position.”

“Why did he take the ruby, sir? And did anyone ever notice it was gone?” Harry asked as he looked around the office and saw the sword of Gryffindor hanging on the wall. He squinted and saw that there was indeed an empty spot where the ruby once lay.

“Tom always considered Hogwarts to be more of a home to him than anywhere else, especially the orphanage. I believe he wanted to keep some sort of souvenir, though his intentions may have been dark even then. Headmaster Dippet did not discover the missing ruby until months later. None of the portraits around the room gave any indication that they’d seen anyone take it, either,” said Dumbledore, looking in direction of the sword as well.

“But didn’t Phineas see Tom take it?” Harry asked, his eyes trailing over to the empty portrait beside the sword. The past Headmaster must be visiting his other portrait at Grimmauld Place.

Dumbledore gave Harry a knowing look and smiled. “Indeed he did, but he never saw fit to release that information until I asked him for that memory. Perhaps he saw more in the boy than anyone else did, and never considered the consequences of Tom’s thievery.”

Harry sighed, keeping himself from glaring at the empty portrait. Of course Phineas Nigellus wouldn’t report Voldemort; he supported his ideals. “So you think that Voldemort might have turned the ruby into a Horcrux at some point?”

“Yes, I do believe so. I also believe that the curse on the Defence position lies within that ruby as well. However, I can only speculate where the ruby might be,” Dumbledore answered, tapping his fingers idly on the desk while he thought.

“Speculations are better than no clue, I guess,” Harry said with a humourless laugh, feeling the weight of finding and destroying these Horcruxes grow heavier and heavier.

“Indeed they are, my boy. After Tom was denied the Defence position the first time, he surprised all by wasting his talents to work for Borgin and Burke’s down Knockturn Alley. He worked as a buyer, convincing people to part with their beloved dark artefacts and bringing them back to the shop. He worked there for almost a year before completely disappearing. No one knows where Tom was at the time, but when he re-emerged, he had already begun to demand he be addressed as Lord Voldemort.”

Harry sighed heavily and nodded his understanding, the meeting coming to an obvious close as Dumbledore secured the pensieve once more. “A ruby...it’ll be like an evil needle in a giant magical haystack,” Harry groaned. He indulged the Headmaster with a grin as the elderly man chuckled.

S~S~S~S

“Well, at least you know what one of the objects is. Now you just need to figure out where it is,” Ron said with a confident nod, ignoring the way Draco was glaring at him from his position beside Harry. Ron had gotten to the Room of Requirement first, and made sure every surface was annoyingly red and gold.

“Yes, if only it were as easy as it sounds. I need to start keeping track of all of this, because I have a feeling it’s all about to become jumbled in my head,” Harry said with a frown, pulling Draco close and snuggling into his warm embrace. He smiled as the blonde placed a chaste kiss on his lips, rolling his eyes as Ron made a retching sound.

“I’ve been writing it all down, Harry, don’t worry. If all else fails, you can always view your memories in a pensieve to refresh the information. Personally, I think you’re going to find the ruby either here at Hogwarts, or at Borgin and Burkes,” said Hermione, pulling out a notebook to write down what Harry had just told them about the ruby from Gryffindor’s sword.

“Why here at Hogwarts?”

Hermione finished writing before looking back up at Harry, the blazing look in her eyes that was present when she was working on a particularly challenging school project lighting her eyes up. He knew she would be invaluable to this search.

“Because it makes sense. Like Dumbledore said, he considered Hogwarts to be a home to him, far more than anywhere else. Not only that, but because the ruby is connected to Gryffindor, which makes it also true that he’d want to hide it within the castle. He even had the opportunity to do it when he came back to ask for a job the second time.”

They all seemed to be deep in concentration when Draco broke the silence in the room. “We’ve determined that the Dark Lord must have been using significant deaths in order to make these Horcruxes, correct? Well, whose murder would he have used for the ruby?”

Harry’s brow wrinkled as he thought that question over. Draco had a point, there. Those missing years in which Tom Riddle had changed from an enigmatic young man, to the Dark Wizard Lord Voldemort were extremely important, but so shrouded in mystery that Harry had no idea where to start. He knew he needed to find out what had happened in those years in order to unlock the answers he was searching for. He had no idea how he was supposed to go about doing that, however.

“I’m never going to figure all of this out. Dumbledore is crazy for thinking I can. If he’s yet to figure it out, there’s no way I’ll be able to,” Harry complained, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes and warding off a headache.

Draco clasped his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, pulling Harry’s hand away from his eyes and kissing him gently on the forehead. “We’ll help you figure this out, Harry. You’re not alone in this.”

Ron and Hermione agreed with hasty nods, earning a grateful smile from Harry. He was about to suggest they all head to bed when a loud klaxon-like wailing startled them all.

“What the –?”

Ron was cut off as the sound repeated itself. Harry looked around the room and felt his breath hitch as he saw the wall behind them, and the wall in front of them begin to move in on them. They were inching closer and closer, the sound of stone scraping on stone making his ears ache and his teeth clench.

“The walls are closing in. Everyone think quickly about requiring the room to stop,” Hermione instructed as she and Ron stood from their seats. Harry and Draco copied their movements, but after about thirty seconds of frantic thinking, the walls were still moving in closer and closer to them. When one of the tables toppled over and began to slide along the floor with the moving wall, Harry raced towards the door.

The door, however, was nearly obscured by the wall closing it off. Harry wrenched at the handle and threw the door open, squeezing out through the ever-shrinking crack in the door. He sighed in relief as Draco and Hermione quickly followed. Ron, however, was stuck. His tall frame and slightly larger build could not fit through the frighteningly small opening now. Harry began to panic.

“Ron, stand back! I’m going to try to blast through the wall here to make a bigger opening!” Hermione called as the opening in the door was almost completely closed off.

“Hermione, hurry!” Ron’s muffled voice shouted through the sound of stone on stone.

Fixing her wand at the wall just to the right of the door, Hermione shouted while brandishing her wand. “Reducto!” Her hands shook uncontrollably.

Harry and Draco ducked as stones and plaster went flying through the air. The air was filled with dust as Ron sprinted from the blast in the wall, running straight into Hermione’s arms, whose eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. They all jumped as a shrill voice came from down the corridor.

“What in Merlin’s name is the meaning of this?” Professor McGonagall asked derisively. The wall was in shambles, and the door to the rumoured Room of Requirement want hanging from its hinges. Three Gryffindors and one Slytherin stood covered in the dust and plaster from the blast.

“Professor McGonagall! We were all just sitting in there talking when the walls started to close in on us. Harry, Draco and I managed to squeeze through the door before it closed off, but Ron couldn’t make it through. I had to do something before the walls crushed him to death!” Hermione said, her voice sounding quite hysterical as she realized how much damaged her spell had inflicted on the corridor.

The Gryffindor Head of House look into the room through the knocked-out wall and saw that, had Ms. Granger not acted as quickly as she had, the youngest Weasley son would have been crushed. The walls had stopped with only about a foot between them.

“I will be reporting this to the Headmaster, of course. This has gone quite far enough. Now, ten points from Gryffindor for destroying school property. However, I think fifty points are in order for saving a fellow student’s life from the craziness the castle has erupted into. It’s nearly curfew; return to your rooms at once, and please pay careful attention to the staircases,” Professor McGonagall said with a stressful sigh and walked away, back towards the Headmaster’s office.

The four students stood together in the corridor, still too much in shock to make much intelligent conversation. Hermione was fussing over Ron, and Harry was clutching Draco close to him as the blonde looked blankly at the destroyed wall.

“I vote we talk in a very wide open space next time. Like outside, where there aren’t any walls,” Ron suggested, his voice very close to a croak as the colour slowly returned to his pallid cheeks.

“We could use the Quidditch pitch and put up privacy charms so no one can see or hear us?” Draco suggested as he was snapped out of his reverie by Ron’s shaking voice.

“Deal,” Harry and Hermione said at the same time with a worried glance.

S~S~S~S

The four Heads of House and Hagrid were seated in front of the great oak desk in the Headmaster’s office. A tense silence had stolen the air after Dumbledore had shouted for them to all cease their shouting and complaints at once. He knew without a doubt that this could go on no longer, but the alternative was nearly as insane at letting the mayhem ensue.

“How many more children must face death before this is properly taken care of, Albus? Anthony Goldstein was nearly thrown from the Astronomy Tower this evening after his telescope seemed to be possessed and grabbed hold of his robes. Professor Sinastra and three other students had to pull him up from the ledge of the castle! And I have already informed you of the mishap with the Room of Requirement and Mr. Weasley.”

Severus’ head snapped around to stare at Minerva, who was red in the face and as close to losing control as the Potions Master had ever seen her. “Mr. Weasley? Were Harry and Draco there as well?”

“Yes, Severus, but they’re both fine. Ms. Granger is, however, traumatised after having to befoul the castle and blast a wall open to save her significant other from a very horrible death indeed. We are supposed to be protecting these children, Albus, keeping them out of harm’s way! We cannot focus on the war outside of these walls if we cannot control the one taking place within them.”

Dumbledore raised his good hand to stave off anymore conversation, ignoring the glares he received. “I agree, Minerva. After much research and experimentation, I have determined that the ancient wards protecting this castle have grown senile, and are confused. As you all know, Hogwarts castle is not just stone and mortar, but a sentient being in itself. The castle is recognizing the threats outside of the walls, but because of its confusion, it has begun to attack those within the castle. The only way we can remedy this situation is to completely strip the wards and reapply them.”

“But Albus, some of these wards are so dreadfully ancient that they’re not in recognizable languages, some even in runes!” Professor Flitwick squeaked from his chair, stacked high with cushions so that he was on level with everyone else.

“Yes, I am well aware. I have already talked with Professor Babbling about deciphering the Ancient Runes, as that is her expertise. The wards are not only ancient and extremely hard to recast, they also take a very long to time to strip and replace. The most disturbing detail is that the castle cannot contain a single living being or creature during the process. Hogwarts will need to be evacuated,” said the Headmaster, nodding in agreement as the Professors gasped and exclaimed their disbelief.

“But what of the students? We’re damned if we do, damn if we don’t. We cannot let the castle continue to put these children in danger, but we also cannot just send them off,” Professor Sprout said from her seat beside Severus.

“I quite agree, Pomona. I have begun to devise a plan in which we will not have to send the students home, but otherwise keep them outside of the castle during the time it takes to replace the wards.”

“And how do you suppose we do that, Albus?” Severus asked incredulously, wondering what harebrained scheme the Headmaster had come up with now. This was all a bit daunting, and the stress level in the room was so thick that it was hard to breathe.

“Well, let’s just say that those of the students who have never been camping before are about to receive a crash course in the activity,” the Headmaster said with a wan smile, his eyes twinkling as the Heads of House shared looks of concern.