"Great speech, Dad. Charlie is going to hate that he missed hearing it live!" Henry found himself in a hug from his son, before patting him on the back. "Thank you, son. How are you feeling?" Fleamont stepped back, giving his father a smile. "Took my potions an hour ago, so I will be fine for a bit more. Think we have time to get a bite to eat?" Henry smiled at his son. Fleamont had always been a concern of his and his wife ever since he was diagnosed with a weak constitution. He had been constantly sick as a child and he was certain his wife's beautiful red hair had gone a bit grey worrying over her youngest boys before she too passed on from illness, her condition having only been marginally better than her son's. Fleamont made it through Hogwarts thanks to his family, with his grandfather having developed the potion that strengthened his constitution temporarily just before his death. Teresa Prewett had been one of the boy's constant companions, making sure that his body was ready each morning to endure the burden of Hogwarts, where Fleamont had been forced into taking only Runes as his sole elective, so that he didn't overextend himself, though he eventually took the Alchemy NEWT elective. Henry was not only glad that Fleamont made it through Hogwarts, but he found a wonderful woman to marry so early in their lives. Euphemia came up behind her tall and still too skinny husband, kissing his cheek. "If Henry agrees, I don't see why we couldn't."
Henry was about to do just that, until he felt a tug on his robes. Looking down, he found Petersby looking up at him, presenting him a letter. "This arrived for you, master. Same as the last one." Henry took it, nodding before his elf disappeared, as he broke the seal, reading over the letter. "Do you two mind waiting a few minutes? My contact has invited me to a private discussion in one of the neutral chambers." Euphemia frowned looking at the letter. "Then that means…" Henry nodded. "He is the Head of House of one of the families." Euphemia gave Fleamont a look, the dark haired man smiling at her. "I can hold up well enough. If the letter didn't say we couldn't come, then let's go together. Safety in numbers and all that." Henry wanted to protest but his daughter-in-law's glare silenced him. Deep in the edges of the 10th Level of the Ministry of Magic, far from the Wizengamot Courts, Euphemia opened the designated Neutral Chamber. "Ahh, I suppose I only have myself to blame for not specifying who could come. Oh well. Please, do come in and seal the door. We have a bit to discuss." In the poorly lit room, a figure stood at the far back, his hands behind his back. Euphemia swept the chamber for magic and disillusionments, as well as any other living creatures, finding nothing. The figure looked at her as she checked him for a wand, finding no magical foci on him. "Satisfied, Auror Potter?"
Euphemia looked at his face, or at least as much as she could see of him in the low light. "I am. I suppose you don't want me to turn up the lights?" The figure shrugged. "It is up to you. As I hardly mingle with the Magical Population, I doubt you would see much of my face. That said, I am afraid I cannot properly introduce myself just yet." Henry spoke up as soon as Euphemia was at his side, with Fleamont just beside her. "And why is that? You clearly can claim a vote and a seat in the Wizengamot." The figure raised up his hand slightly. "True, but not everyone that can claim a seat should, Potions Master Potter. I am afraid that my family name comes with a bit of a history, one that will bring unwanted attention to myself, the Assembly and perhaps Albion itself. As a father himself, I believe Lord Potter can understand what it means to have someone depend on you while you perform a duty that not only endangers your life, but theirs as well. I will reveal my identity to you only when I am confident that you can keep my identity a secret. Whether the rest of the world ever learns of my existence is a different matter. Now then, onto business. I trust that the documents I sent you were verified as accurate and valid?"
Henry nodded. "They are. I had planned to use it to secure Lord Black's support for the Auror Deployment vote, but with the new head taking control of the house…" The figure moved a bit closer to the three Potters. "Indeed. That had been my hope when I sent you the information. I wasn't expecting it instantly, in fact I expected Sirius Black to resist the oath as much as possible, but Arcturus' ascension brings with it advantages and disadvantages. I don't think I need to say that this is a poor time to try and approach the young Lord, let alone attempt to compel his support?" Henry shook his head. "No, you do not. I expect he will need time to consolidate his power, reevaluating his family's alliances, as I doubt that Sirius stepped down willingly. That man was a difficult person to deal with." The figure smiled softly. "Good. Then since the Blacks will be dealing with Dark Faction matters while the DMLE writes up a report regarding the planned security measures for Albion, I believe you should handle the issues within your own faction. I can tell you that Weasley's stunt wasn't an isolated incident." Henry frowned. "What do you mean?" Turning a chair so that it faced the Potters, the figure sat down, crossing his leg. "It has come to my attention that certain ideals have been cropping up within the Light Faction. Weasley seems to be a puppet of them and I believe that Lord Longbottom is in discussions with the main driving force of the movement. A movement that seeks to remove the Dark Faction from existence."
Euphemia looked at Henry with concern. "I think my mother has been contacted by these people. She told me how they wanted to promote stronger laws against curses and rituals, including a ban on the casting of the more severe curses, with instant prison sentences." The figure nodded. "That is their message as of this moment. My concern is the underlying principle. I have information that suggests that the ideological figurehead of the group is pushing these laws at this time, seeking to undermine the peace between the Factions. Grindelwald's involvement in the war and his recruitment of Dark Families has worked in their favor. We believe that the longer the war continues, the more barbaric Grindelwald will behave, especially if he is backed into a corner. He will lash out everywhere possible, including through his puppets in Britain. This Anti-Dark movement will be more than happy to capitalize on the violence, galvanizing the population against the Dark Families." Fleamont looked at his father. "That certainly sounds reasonable. But to destroy the Faction as a whole?" Henry thought for a second, rubbing his chin, as he stared at the figure, his facial features still hidden in shadows. "The fastest way to achieve that would be to eliminate the current Wizengamot structure, ending the three factions all at once. Without elected Speakers being able to interfere with votes, Light and Neutral groups could pass legislation with much greater ease. That is, if the Chief Witch would allow it. I am guessing your prediction has her losing her position quickly enough."
The figure smiled. "That is what we expect, yes. I am sure that once I tell you the name of the figurehead of the movement, you can understand why we expect a quick political shift in the wake of the end of the war. The movement is the brainchild of Albus Dumbledore." Henry's lips narrowed. He remembered when the Hogwarts Professor had approached him regarding Grindelwald's initial terrorist attacks. When advocated taking independent action against the Hexenmeisters, Henry had ceased all further discussions with him, as he believed it was the ICW's jurisdiction. Still, hearing the name made him feel uneasy. "You are certain of this?" The figure nodded. "I am. He has used his position at Hogwarts to shift the thoughts of the younger generations, particularly the Griffyndors and Hufflepuffs. The fact that he is widely considered to be the only wizard that can challenge Grindelwald directly in a duel and that he has refused to do so ever since Grindelwald's escape from MACUSA custody proves that he has ulterior motives. Our observations indicate that he is gathering the lesser Light houses together in support of the Anti-Dark movement. All he needs is for Grindelwald's supporters to attack Albion, causing mass casualties, for the general population to follow through. I don't have to tell you which faction Grindelwald would target if he attacked Albion. He has shown his preference repeatedly in Europe." Henry sighed. "The Dark. They are the ones with the knowledge to devastate Grindelwald's forces. Even if we won the war, the Dark will have lost most of its numbers, leaving the door open for the Wizengamot to restructure itself, to their detriment."
Standing up, the figure approached Henry, getting close enough that Henry could start making out some of the man's features. "Do not be fooled, it would be to the detriment of all of Albion. Without the Dark, the Light will start passing laws with impunity, even if these laws weaken their own power. Removing the Dark would alter the power structure of Albion. The next step after this removal would be to remove the Light and Neutrals, in a way that only destroys the traditions and convictions of the population. Whether using the now radicalized Dark remnants, or by other means, Dumbledore will seek to bring down the Magical Families, leaving behind a population full of ignorant orphans, muggleborns and sycophants. By the end of it all, there would be no opposition to Dumbledore's rule, and he would achieve it all, without so much as starting the wars himself. That is, if the Dark remnants don't become so radicalized that they raise all of our society to the ground. I brought that list, and the oaths that bind the Old Alliance together, to your attention to prevent this. The Light, the Neutral and the Dark need to act as counters to each other for our society to survive. The Dark are in a position where they should begin to police their own now if Lord Blzck uses his political and economic power as we suspect he might. You and the Light must do the same, before it's too late."
Henry watched as the figure waved his hand, before the lights in the chamber grew in intensity. The man reminded Henry very much of portraits of his great grandfather. He even looked a bit like an older Charlus, though his blue eyes stood out as a clear difference. "I am trusting you, Henry Potter, to do the right thing, as your family has always done since as far back as the Council of Wizards. Soon enough, our youths will be going to war. Let's make sure that they don't come back, not only to a wasteland, but a growing divide that could lead to a civil war. Fighting an enemy is hard enough. Fighting cousin against cousin, brother against sister, mother against son? Our society will not survive that, no matter how hard we try to pull ourselves together." Henry was quiet for a pensive moment before he nodded. "I agree. I will verify your information as much as I can without revealing our concerns, but if everything checks out, then I swear to you that I will do everything that I can to prevent that nightmare from occurring. As soon as I have secured the Light Faction and Arcturus has done the same with the Dark, I will reach out to him to present a united front." The man before him smiled softly. "I don't believe that will be much of a problem for you. If certain conditions are met by this summer, I will be contacting you again. Be safe out there. The enemy isn't as far away from us as we might wish them to be."
The Potters left the chamber soon after in silent contemplation as Alexander resealed it, checking for any monitoring spells or lingering magics. Finding the place clean, he moved a few feet to his right, gently pulling off the Invisibility Cloak off of Lilith. The girl was visibly shaking, tears running down her eyes as she fell to her knees. Alexander pulled her into a hug as she cried. "I am so sorry. I didn't think he would bring them with him, let alone both together." Lilith gripped his shirt as she cried, Alexander understanding the source of her pain. The girl had not just seen with her own eyes her great grandfather, but also her grandparents. She saw her grandmother's dedication to her family, Fleamont's fragility, which was easy enough for anyone to see on his face, and, most of all, Henry's unwavering dedication to honor and duty. These were the people whose example her parents should have followed, the people she should have grown up knowing by name, their love a physical part of her youth. Instead she only found their names on an inheritance test, a poor substitute for a living, breathing family. Alexander didn't need to know that Dumbledore's plans were vile and cruel, no matter how noble they might present themselves as. He saw it every time he looked into Lilith's face, seeing the memories of Lillian, a descendant of so many magical legacies, left to handle the horrors of the world all alone. He had sworn to prevent that future from happening. He would not fail her. Not again.
-✦-
Tom, sitting at the end of the Slytherin Table, moved the scrambled eggs on his plate with little enthusiasm. On the afternoon of the 25th, he had sent out a few gifts to Lilith, in the hope of easing the tension he had created between them when he discovered that she had killed Morfin Gaunt. In his search of the Castle, Tom had uncovered a large chamber on the seventh floor, next to a bit of tapestry that showed a wizard teaching Trolls how to dance. Within the chamber was a great multitude of objects that had been lost in the Castle from who knew how many centuries back. Most of it seemed to be broken pieces of junk, old desks, bookshelves and tables. The bookshelves had, interestingly enough, not been empty. Within rows upon rows of bookshelves, sat a large collection of trinkets and other objects. At the farthest end of the Chamber, Tom found bookshelves filled with books, many dating back centuries, quite a few being texts that he had never seen within the Hogwarts Library, even within the Restricted section. After summoning Hogsby, Tom learned that the chamber was known as the Come and Go Room, or the Room of Requirement, though the particular configuration he had found was known to the elves as the Room of Lost Things. It was the elves who tended to bring the discarded objects here, where they could be stored until someone found a need for them.
While most were a hodgepodge of textbooks going back centuries. He did find a large assortment of books pertaining to Dark Creatures, Dark Arts and a few on Enchantments, Tom stowed said copies away, while keeping a few copies for himself, including a book on Parselmouths and Parselmagic, though he was certain more books on the subject had been on one of the shelves and had been recently removed, as seen by the traces of dust next to empty spaces. On the night of the 25th, Tom had sent Hogsby with said books to Lilith. Hogsby confirmed that she received them, but in the days that followed, he never saw a glimpse or a whisper of her presence. She was simply gone. Today, the morning of the 31st, he had found no gifts at the end of his bed, though Hogsby told him that a request had been made to provide him with whatever food he fancied. Tom hadn't felt that hungry after the last few days of silence from Lilith, so he sat at the Slytherin table, away from both of the young Italian refugees, as well as from Anton Bryce and Druella Rosier. He knew that the silence was his fault. He had been too upfront with his indignation about the death of Morfin. He had hoped the letter he included with the books would have gotten a response, but it seems that it hadn't. Taking a sip from the glass of orange juice at his side, Tom's eyes wandered the mostly empty Great Hall, spotting a few students bunched up together, before seeing a few owls dropping off letters and the Daily Prophet.
It took Tom by surprise when a large brown colored owl dropped onto the table in front of him, the bird's landing rattling the empty plates nearby by the sheer impact of his weight. The bird's golden eyes turned to him and it screeched, presenting him with a letter. After checking the letter for magic, of which he found no trace, Tom took it from the large owl, before it left the Great Hall. The envelope had his name written on it in cursive, but it wasn't in Lilith's handwriting. Curious about the contents, Tom broke the blank black seal on it, before reading the neat handwriting of the letter.
To Tom Marvolo Riddle
Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lilith von Schwarzwald's patron. While I cannot give you my name, I can at least confirm my identity to you. The reason Lilith isn't by your side is related to a discussion you two had after a lovely Christmas Dinner, regarding actions that she took in absence of your knowledge that resulted in the death of a monster. If you feel convinced enough about the truth of my identity, let's get down to the reason as to why I am writing to you. As you might have guessed, the gifts you sent to Lilith on the 25th, while appreciated, did not ease her concern, let alone the sense of guilt that she feels. The primary reason as to why she is still keeping her distance is that despite your written words, Lilith still feels that she has not regained your confidence. Trust is something Lilith values greatly and she feels that she has violated your trust in her. If you wish to make amends and rebuild your relationship to what it was before Christmas, if not make it stronger, I suggest you find within yourself something that you can share with Lilith that truly demonstrates that that trust and faith has been restored. I would like to point out that sending the locket back would be the worst possible idea. I have met many angry witches in my life and I can tell you that the trouble that Lilith went to to recover that object would pale in comparison to the rage she would feel if you returned it to her. I would like for my estate to survive a century into the future, so please find another means to demonstrate your commitment to your partnership with her.
What I know of you, Mr Riddle, is what Lilith has shared with me, which isn't much. She is a very private person and tries to keep private information close to her chest as much as possible. What I can tell you is that she cares deeply for you, perhaps more so than she is willing to admit within a written or spoken way. I am sure that you understand as I do that actions show who she truly is as a person. Whatever action you take to demonstrate your trust in her, make sure that it isn't betrayed by your actions that follow. Lilith doesn't forgive betrayal, not after the ones she has already suffered, nor does she tolerate lies. If you gain her trust enough that she can reveal to you her true self, then you will understand why she is the way she is. Until then, I wish you a pleasant birthday, Mr Riddle.
Sincerely, Lilith's Patron
P.S. She will probably tear me a new one for this, but I can assure you that she hasn't forgotten your birthday in the slightest and has a gift that she wishes to send, but pride and shame prevent her from doing so. She has been staring at it for days, debating whether to send it or not. Don't let her silence fool you, she still cares about you, she just has difficulty demonstrating it currently.
Tom breathed a sigh of relief, happy to know that he hadn't destroyed his relationship with Lilith. He mentally thanked her patron, as he saw no way of physically doing so currently, as he returned the letter into its envelope, before stashing it away in his robes. He ate his breakfast a bit more enthusiastically as he ran through what he could possibly send to Lilith that would prove to her how much he trusted her. Clearly, no book in his possession would do. What possessions he had that belonged to the Slytherins would likely not be well received, based on the letters comment about the locket. He could see the point as to why the locket was out of bounds, considering that their agreement was for her to help in securing his family's legacy. Giving her a piece of it would be counterproductive to that.
As Tom finished his breakfast, he left the Great Hall for the Slytherin Dorms, his need to search the Castle momentarily forgotten. His mind was hard at work trying to figure out what gift would show Lilith that his trust in her was unshaken and that perhaps it was even stronger now. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, none of his worldly possessions seemed to be enough. The record player would probably be a bad idea, sending back the wrong message, while anything that didn't belong to Tom wasn't personal enough to do the job, as seen by his Christmas presents. Sitting down at his desk, Tom pulled his school trunk to his side and searched it, finding nothing that could work as a show of trust. As he replaced his clothes back into the trunk, Tom's eyes landed on an object that had slipped his mind. His Diary. Taking it into his hands, Tom opened it, scanning the pages. Tom had been writing in his Diary since he arrived at Hogwarts. It had been a way for him to preserve the more important memories of his life, as well as a way to gauge just how far he had come. His last entry in it had been just prior to the Christmas Dinner.
Tom smiled to himself, realizing that this was possibly the only way he could prove his faith in her. The Diary might not have held every single detail of his life, every minute aspects of his thoughts, but it was as close as he could get. Pulling out his fountain pen, Tom began writing his thoughts over the last few days, including his dream about the raven haired girl and how it made him feel about Lilith. As he finished his latest entry, he thought that there had to be a way to make the Diary a bit more valuable. Pulling out his enchantment texts, he skimmed over several pages before finding one that interested him. The Protean Charm. Tom smiled, as the Charm would be the best way to retain the importance of the Diary, even if he were to give it to Lilith. He could continue to update the text, maintaining it as he always did, which would continue its value as a glimpse into his own mind. The Protean Charm could also help in maintaining direct communication with her for as long as they both wanted. If everything went poorly, destroying the original object would destroy the copy. It would do. Pulling out his inkwell and brush, Tom read through the Protean Charm's runic translation and tested the enchantment in a few pieces of parchment. Everything needed to be perfect before he could send her proof that he still believed in her and that he always would.