Fate Breaker (HP)

AUTHOR'S NOTES; OH MY GOD ITS BEEN LIKE 4 MONTHS IM SO SORRY 😭

But! In my defense, I took a little vacation for almost a month and the newest installment of this series took way longer to write and post because it's very technical! Like, it took me 3 day for this chapter and like a month and a half to do the first 2 chapters of A Survivor's Will! But I think it will be easier now that I have a good start on how I want to handle the mechanics of it. And now there are 8 parts to this series and I wrote over 45k since you guys last saw me!

Still… I am sorry 💙 you guys are some of my most supportive readers so I feel bad for the wait.

Anyway! I officially posted my walking dead gamer fic, so check that out if you're interested. I know gamer fics aren't for everyone, but it's not a traditional one, so you might enjoy it anyway. 

Y'all know how this series works by now, but if you're new, hi! Welcome! Each part of this series can be read independently or in order as part of a souls journey through the cycle of reincarnation.

As always, thank you guys for showing your love for my work. I hope yall enjoy!

Discord!

https://discord.gg/XhqUDAnbsH

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"Here, this one, too," Dora says, handing me another flower. I sniff it, then nod, carefully twisting the stem around the small bundle, using my magic rather than my clumsy toddler fingers.

I twist the last flower into place and gather all the bundles in my palms, bowing my head over them, eyes shut as I silently pray to Mother Magic to bless the little flower bundles with something to help us win today. I didn't really know if it would work, but I figured that it wouldn't hurt considering I didn't really know any spells for this, and Lady Magic seemed to like me at least a little.

Feeling a shift in the air, my eyes snap open to see the bundles, small things of slightly squashed blossoms I'd taken from the sprawling gardens, now illuminated with golden light and beautifully blooming, notably less ragged.

Dora gasps, soil covered hands smacking into her own mouth and the twins, having been wrestling in the grass nearby, glance over curiously. Even Charlie managed to peel his gaze away from Kilgharrah long enough to look.

I blink, not really having expected it to work, and definitely not so overtly, and Kilgharrah speaks up from where he is currently resting in Charlie's hand, showing off the majesty of his shimmering orange scales to someone who is always besotted by it. The little boy's aura always seemed to be overwhelmed by awe in the presence of the King of Dragons and had actually cried the first time he was allowed to touch him, and now tended to to spend all the time he wasn't playing with Dora following Kilgharrah like a little duckling. "Ah, it seems mother sent you a blessing for victory, little dragon."

I glance at the flowers with wonder before making a decision. "Kila, can you teach me how to honor Lady Magic? And, Lord or Lady Death? There are rituals for that kind of thing, right?"

It couldn't hurt.

"I can. It is good that you are willing to practice the ancient ways," the dragon agrees neutrally, but I can feel the way his aura spikes with pride and joy, even as he stretches out one glorious wing so that Charlie could study the way the bones move. "But Hatchling, it is almost time for the others to leave for the trial."

I squeak and send a quick prayer of thanks to Magic, and then I'm grabbing my gifts and booking it for the castle, Dora, the twins and Charlie right behind me.

A few Travel doors later and we were tumbling out into the main hall where Andi, Ted, Papa, and Lord Arcturus, or I suppose, Grandfather Artie.

We hurry over to them and I freeze under a sudden wave of shyness. Overwhelmed by the idea that this whole thing was a stupid idea and of course they wouldn't want some bloody flowers from the garden. Honestly, what had I even been thinking? I'd never given a gift to any older family members in either life, and the would probably hate it-

"We made gifts for you!" Dora yells happily, the bigger girl shoving me forward and nearly tripping over me in the process, her hair matching Kila's sunset scales today.

Et tu, Dora?! Whhhhyyyy?!

I feel blood rush to my face, mortified and hoping my skin is dark enough to hide the blush. Glaring at my toes, I offer up the little bouquets that were meant to be pinned to their robes with brooches, noting that they were still shimmering like golden chrome. Gentle weathered hands enclosed mine, and I glance up to see Grandfather Artie, crouching in front of me with wide, delighted eyes. "A gift? For me, as well?"

I shrug, scuffing my foot on the intricately carved marble floor, as I hand them the little tokens, one for each of those that were heading to the trial and one for my dad because I didn't want him to feel left out since he is staying home with the kids. To my surprise, the old lord seems deeply touched even by the simple gift, going so far as to pat my head gently, and I wonder vaguely what kind of life Arcturus Black lived to be so moved by such a simple gift.

"What spell is this?" Andi asks, leaning down to press kisses to all the gathered childrens' cheeks, her red smile wide.

I wince. An, I hadn't thought this part through. "No spell."

At the confused looks I'm getting, I feel the heat in my cheeks rise again, the floor becoming terribly interesting once more as the childish emotions overwhelm me again. "No spell. Just prayed. Kila says Mother Magic gave us a blessing of victory." 

My father raises a curious brow, a much tamer reaction than Andi and Ted who were silently quaking in their boots, a pained look of resigned acceptance in their countenance, but Arcturus just barks out a loud laugh, not even slightly dubious. "Yes, that is the royal bloodline for you. Do invite me the next time you pray, young one. I, too, would like to offer my respects to Lady Magic."

I nod, smiling as I watch the adults pin their gifts to their chest. I wished them luck at the trial, reminded the Weasley twins to be extra careful completing the "prank" I asked them to, and disappeared to Balinor's study where Kilgharrah helped me slip into a vision to watch the trial before returning downstairs to act like Andi's jewelry.

XXXXXXXXXX

I whoop in joy as I find myself once more in a vision of the Wizengamot courtroom, floating above the murmuring crowd, although the room did look noatsblh different, to the point where it might have been a different room entirely. This time, rather than House boxes circling the center, they'd been shifted over to free up one side of the room to hold the public gallery, which is packed full of people, several of which were clearly reporters foaming at the mouth for a hot scoop. The rest of the room still held the House boxes and the same tiers based on rank, and I zip about, finding Mr. W- Lord Weasley where he is lounging , today in the Pewett box, a Noble and Most Ancient as opposed to the Noble Weasley one. 

Hm, actually, were the Weasley's going by Weasley- Prewett, or something like that?

Currently, he is surrounded by several sleazy looking people who seem to be doing their damned best to kiss his ass. Mentally, I imagine myself hovering above his shoulders and instantly find my point of view changed.

"-truly remarkable comeback, Lord Weasley-Prewett."

"Indeed. However did you manage to first meet her majesty? Do, tell, old chap, what is our magnanimous ruler like?"

I sneer at their pathetic attempts at fishing for information and manipulating one of my beloved minions, these being the same fuckers that mocked the Weasley's for their lack of wealth and being bloodtraitors, but I find myself appeased by Arthur's expression. 

Arthur Weeasley is a kind man, deeply so. He is gentle and fiercely loyal, content to indulge my outlandish requests and approach my numerous and seemingly random projects with sincere efforts despite my age. He is balding slightly, and worships his wife and has the same mischievous blue eyes as the twins. He's someone who bravely risked his life to protect others and his family on the front lines against Voldemort as part of the Order of Phoenix. Arthur Weasley is an exceptionally kind and good man.

But, right now, he is watching the parasites around him with a look of detached malice and disdain that one would have on their face while noticing a particularly odious animal excrement. With his bright ginger hair haloed around him and the stillness of his limbs, it feels vaguely like I'm watching a big cat about to pounce. Just the sight of it appeases my previous annoyance as I cackle smugly, knowing this is definitely a product of my influence on this world.

I take note of the nervous looking Minister of Magic, the seething Barty Crouch Sr. in the Crouch box, who has only recently been replaced by Amelia Bones as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and one oddly blank Dumbledore, settled firmly in his Chief Warlock box, his eyes not twinkling in the slightest and the sight instantly puts me on edge.

I frown, having forgotten that meant he would be presiding over the trial. 

What will you do, Old Man? Show remorse and shock at your own inaction, or will you struggle and fight against losing control of your pawns?

Soon, Andi, Ted and Arty are entering and I quickly float over, attaching myself to hover above them as they take their seats. In the Emrys Royal box, high above all the rest, I can clearly see everything, all the Wizengamot wizards like a sea of purple below us, since during a trail, all the members were required to dress uniformly in the color rather than their house colors like they usually do to symbolize the uniformity and blindness of justice or some bullshit. As though the whole Wizengamot wasn't inherently elitist, self interested, and more concerned about pushing their own Houses' agendas.

Soon, a very confused and bedraggled Siruius Black is being rather harshly dragged in and chained to the creepy torture chair that is back in the center of the floor, unlike the last vision I had. Despite it not having been the twelve years in Azkaban like canon, the man still looks rough. I position myself next to his chair, taking in the long, dirt crusted hair, nails, and skin, the horrifying hollowness of his eyes, and the thinness of his limbs, and I feel rather sick. 

I'd done my best, spilled my own secrets, ones that could have gotten me killed, or worse, just to obtain enough power to change the fates of those around me. It was definitely not purely altruism, but I know for certain that saving Sirius and Harry was why I risked making moves so early whereas waiting untill I could at least fucking talk properly would have been better. And yet, the tortured man in front of me was proof that my best efforts had been nowhere near enough.

I feel myself choke on the horror and guilt, on the terrible, unbearable realization that if I am this woefully inadequate, even with all the advantages I have, the monumental tasks I attempt to accomplish in the future will likely result in even greater failures, and my heart hurts. The world around me blurs. I cry out as buzzing fills my ears, darkness creeping in around me like smoke and I mentally curse, realizing that my emotions were making me lose control. If I broke concentration now, I wouldn't be able to find out what happens at the trial until the others return.

I try to imagine myself taking deep breaths, forcing myself to stare at Sirius in front of me even though it makes me want to cry, focusing on the moment. It takes some time, the magic in my chest lurching dangerously, but soon the sight of the courtroom stabilizes and Dumbledore's grave sounding voice filters back in as though a signal is being reestablished.

"-the criminal trial of Sirius Orion Black-'

"That is Heir Sirius Orion Black of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black," interrupts Arcturus, like steel beneath silk, causing gasps to ring out. 

Sirius's head whips up to peer high above him at his grandfather, pupils swallowing the gray of his eyes, and then he sputters out a deranged little giggle that is filled with so much hopelessness and pain that it has me reaching to grasp his hand even though I don't currently have a body. "Have you gone senile, Old Man? Dear old mum disowned me."

The room goes deadly silent. No one got away with talking like that to Lord Black, and even I tense up, worried about Arcturus's reaction, but the aged Lord merely scuffs. 

Unexpectedly, Arty's lips curl into a barely perceptible little smirk."Whether you are disowned or not, boy, is entirely the decision of the Lord. And currently, that is me. Sirius Orion Black, blood of my blood, before these witnesses, I declare my intention to reinstate you as a member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and my heir. As such, I extend the protection of House Black upon you from this point on. So mote it be."

The audience erupts into exclamations and frantic flashes of light from cameras in the public gallery, once more reinforcing my dawning observation that British wizards and witches were quite an easily shaken bunch. Arcturus can't just accept Sirius back. A reinstatement would require Sirius's own acceptance, just as Andi had to sign documents in blood and take an oath, but what he had done instead was nearly as effective. By publicly declaring his intention to cancel Sirius's disownment and to name him heir, Arty has essentially stated that he's willing to go to war war for his grandson, and that Sirius had to be respected as any other Black heir, even if it wasn't official yet, or one would risk incurring Lord Black's infamous wrath.

Frankly, considering the devastation that has historically befallen any enemies of House Black, or even just Arcturas himself, I would not risk it. House Black was notorious for ending blood feuds in particularly bloody fashion.

For a moment, Sirius just gales, staring uncomprehendingly at his grandfather. Then he suddenly jerks, face twisting into a disbelieving snarl, defensiveness in every line of his posture, skepticism, anger, and what looks like grief all warring in his bearing. I flinch when he crumbkes in on himself, head dropping again as confused and angry tears begin to escape his eyes.

Dumbledore calls for order, making no comment on the previous display and begins to state the names of those presiding over the trial, including himself, Minster Bagnold, and Madam Bones as the new Head of DMLE, the court scribe, and Ted and Lady Lucretia Zabini as Sirius's defense.

"Andi…" Sirius whispers, looking at Ted with wonder as he realizes that the family member closest to him hadn't abandoned him after all. The faintest spark of hope finally enters his eyes.

Before today, no one had been allowed to visit the man, so Sirius actually had no idea any of this was coming. As my proxy, Andi might have been able to force them to let her see her cousin, but she was only just sworn in. There hadn't been any time to inform him, but Lucretia and Ted weren't at all unprepared, having spent the last several months preparing for this day. Ted backs Lucretia as she takes the stage and the woman is a fucking marvel to behold.

With sultry steps and a purring voice she smoothly decimated every piece of so-called evidence the opposition brought against the dog animagus, going so far as to demand veritaserum be used.

With the court unable to provide any excuse to deny the motion, Sirius is dosed, still sitting in the rune covered chair. Technically, it is possible to kind of subvert veritaserum. But, more theoretically than in actual practice. The potion puts you into a state of mind where even skirting the truth can only be done by very few. An outright lie has never been recorded in the history of the potions use, although, when I asked Ted about it, he mentioned that people who can throw off the imperious curse and or were practitioners of occlumency had higher success rates of being misleading while under the influence. Additionally, hit wizards and undercover agents were trained for years for this exact purpose in order to protect national secrets, but the goal was actually for them to stay silent under the potion's effects since lying wasn't a viable option.

However, the torture chair in the court actually has a purpose beyond aesthetics. The thing is covered in runes from ancient times. Some were designed to encourage the truth, making it harder to resist the truth potion, but on their own, could be fought off with a strong enough will. The bigger issue to those seated in it is the runic sequences on the wood that compel a person to answer questions asked to them. There is no right to silence for the accused. This combined with the semi lucid state from the potion, and well, I could almost be convinced that the British Justice System wasn't complete garbage.

Almost.

If only these currupt fuckers made both the chair and potion common practice, but doing so would put the shady nepotists in too much peril, so the use of both simultaneously, despite being available since Grinderwald's era, has never become standard procedure. Of course, all this information is courtesy of several enraged rants by one Ted Black-Tonks.

"What occurred on the night of October 31, 2002?" Lucretia coos as she saunters around the seated and potioned Sirius and my hovering metaphysical presence.

"I'd just found out that the entire McKinnon family had fallen by You-Know Who himself…. I knew the Potters would be next-"

"So, you knew! You were aware because you had sold the Potters to the Dark Lord!" Bagnold exclaims, triumph written all over her nervously sweaty face. Clearly, the woman could feel the end of her career approaching.

"No, I knew because the Dark Lord was eliminating all the prominent aristocratic families, especially the pure bloods, that resisted His reign. The Mckinnons and Bones and Prewetts…. My friends." Here I notice several disturbed looks, even from those I think are a part of the Dark faction, when they remember just how many Purebloods and noble families were wiped out. "I wasn't the Secret Keeper and I never sold out James, Lily, and Harry. They were my family… I would have gladly died for them."

The room erupts into shocked, outraged chaos, but I'm more focused on Arcturas's clenched fists, Dumbledore's pursed lips, and Crouch's ashen face. It takes Dumbledore using a spell that creates a sound like a gunshot to get the room back in order. 

Lucretia's smile is positively feral as she begins prowling again. "To clarify, you are claiming that you weren't the Secret Keeper of the Fidelius Charm that was protecting the Potters, yes?"

"I was originally. But everyone knew that James was practically my brother, and that his parents, Aunt Doreen and Uncle Charlus, had taken me in as their own when my own parents abandoned me." Arcturas actually flinches here and I wince in sympathy, knowing that Arcturas had wanted to take in Sirius himself, but had already passed on the title to Orion, and was prevented by both Orion and Sirius himself, who would never have trusted his grandfather then. "It was too obvious, so I convinced James to let me act as a decoy, keeping them even safer and drawing any attacks away from Peter, the real Secret Keeper. I didn't realize …."

Gasps of horror fill the room as the puzzle pieces begin to fall into place and the true traitor is revealed to all of the Potters, but Lucretia, eyes blazing, just presses on. "Realize what?"

"That the rat had been a traitor all along," Sirius replies, and his rage is so vast that some of it even manages to leek past the numbing apathy of the magic in him, his words coming out surprisingly sharp.

"For the record, who is this rat?" Lucretia asks, turning to the captive audience in a theatrical swirl of robes, one long leg tipped in a dangerously thin heel peeking out of the thigh high slit in her robe.

"Peter Pettigrew. An unregistered rat animagus. We should have known…"

Lucretia brilliantly intercedes before Sirius can out himself as an unregistered animagus as well, much to my relief. "So, you never conspired with the Dark Lord or his forces to kill or harm the Potters?"

"Never. I never worked nor wanted to work with You-Know-Who at all."

"But," Madam Bones intercedes. "That doesn't explain what happened the night on October 31st, nor the next morning. What happened, Heir Black?"

"I was feeling uneasy, so I went to check on Peter, to make sure he was safe. But, when I got there, Peter was gone, as were his things. I rushed to warn the Potters that something was wrong and Peter was on the run…. I found my brother and sister by choice dead, and my precious godson bleeding and unconscious. The Dark Lord's cloak, the one he always wore in public during attacks like his attack on Diagon Alley a few months before, embroidered in skulls and snakes, was on the floor in front of Harry's crib. I was too late. It was clear that Peter betrayed us."

"Then, what?"

"I let Hagrid take Harry to Dumbledore, letting him borrow my motorcycle. Then, I went to hunt down the rat. The Potters were dead and there was no sign of struggle, and yet, it seemed Voldemort himself had attacked the Potters. I knew then that we'd been betrayed. I finally sniffed him out the next morning in the middle of muggle London. Before I could even say anything beyond his name, the fucking traitor looked me dead in the eye and began to scream that I had betrayed Lily and James. He threw a curse at me and when I dodged it he took the opportunity to send the blasting curse at the street. Then, all I can remember is screaming and fire and pain for a while. When I came to, I was surrounded by corpses and aurors… it was so absurd."

"What do you mean absurd?" Dumbledore asks, speaking up for the first time during the questioning.

"The rat was right in a way. I had killed Lily and James. It was all my fault since you suggested I swap with Peter. The fact that it was the traitor saying it only made it more ridiculous. I couldn't stop laughing,"

The entire courtroom sat in horrified silence, even Lucretia's wicked smile seeming to falter before the women pulled herself together. "For the record, Heir Black, you neither fired the first spell nor killed those thirteen muggles?"

"No, I didn't do either of those things. I don't even think I manage to get a spell off at all."

Bagnold is gaping, her skin an impressive shade of white. Crouch doesn't look any better, I note, bemused.

"On behalf of the accused, we demand all charges be dismissed and reparations paid for his unlawful imprisonment in Azkaban," Ted states coldly, speaking up for the first time.

"All in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?" Dumbledore calls solemnly.

Under the flashing lights of cameras and the utterly scornful looks of our combined allies, nearly every wand in the courtroom goes up, dimly glowing with wand light.

I cheer as Sirius receives the antidote to the veritaserum, ignoring the raucous noise of everything around me as people try to wrap their puny little minds around all the revelations of this entire shit show, but this time, it's a wand bang from Andromeda that silences the hall, high above Sirius and I, and the baffled, incredulous look on his face at seeing her in the Royal box seat of all places makes me laugh.

"Her Majesty had a concern in regards to Heir Black, now that he has been proven innocent."

"What the fuck have I missed?" Sirius whisper-yells to Ted as the man helps him up from the chair. Lady Zabini snickers.

"W-What matter does H-Her Majesty require us to address? Of course, we shall handle it immediately!" Bagnold stutters, and I glare contemptuously, knowing she's only trying to gain favor to preserve her status as minister after this debacle hits the papers, and considering the amount of reporters here, she'll be done for by tomorrow afternoon. Jokes on her though, I don't even think my House could save her now, even if I weren't completely content to watch her ruin.

"These are the legal documents, all of which are notarized and verified by Gringrotts, declaring that Heir Black is the sworn godfather and guardian to Heir Harry James Potter in the instance that Lord and Lady Potter were unable to care for him. Heir Black, I take it that you wish to file for custody?" Ted states, handing the documents over to the Minister, Dumbledore, and Bones, but addressing Sirius at the end.

The newly exonerated man is wide eyed and teary again, breath hitching as he nods firmly, looking agonizingly hopeful. Bagnold is speechless, but it's Dumbledore that brings up the first objection.

"I can certainly appreciate young Sirius Black's loyalty to Harry, but the boy has already settled in his current residence-"

"And, who exactly determined where that was?" Dowager Lady Longbottom sharply cuts in. "The custody of the child is determined by the will of the parents. Legally, only Heir Black and Lady Alice Longbottom, and their respective Houses, have the right to custody and considering my daughter-in-law's current state, that means custody falls to me on her behalf as her Head of House. As such, House Longbottom fully supports Heir Black having custody of the Boy-Who-Lived, and requests visitation rights."

Sirius turns and, still being supported by both Ted, bows deeply towards Augusta. "I- thank you. Thank you."

"Be that as it may, Harry has already been placed somewhere safely-" Dumbledore tries and I hurl my incorporeal self at his form, angrily attempting to somehow strangle his with his own beard, knowing it won't work, but it's an amusing enough thought that it kind of works.

I can't tell if this is about the stupid bloodwards between Harry and Petunia, ones I deeply distrust the efficacy of in the first place, or something more nefarious, like Dumbledore wanting Harry to grow up abused, but this man is showing himself to be more distrustful by the second, something I can tell Sirius is also picking up on if the betrayed look in his eyes is any indication.

"The law is the law," Madam Bones interrupts sharply, if slightly unexpectedly. "The will of the Potters takes precedence and as soon as we can verify it, Heir Black should bw awarded custody. And Heir Potter is only two. He will adjust. In fact, he may even remember Heir Black."

Sirius makes a pitiful little sound of both pain and hope that breaks my heart.

"There is a more pressing concern, however," another voice pipes up. Lucius Malfoy draws all the attention in the room like the peacock he is, but Narcissa, however, is very interestingly uncomfortable with whatever her husband is trying to pull. "Heir Black has spent the last year in Azkaban. Surely, he is not in the most… stable state to care for a child. My dear wife, however, is a Black herself, and we would gladly offer our home to the young heir and fulfill Heir's duty."

I whistle, recognizing that was both a stupid move and an utterly pathetic attempt at subtlety grabbing for power. Technically, there is a legal precedent for it. With just the informal protection of House Black, making Sirius a ward of sorts, the argument could be made that they are responsible for taking on Sirius's duties, such as protecting and carding for a child in his custody. With Arcturas's permission, Narcissa could be granted custody on behalf of Sirius. However, it would not work here without Sirius's express permission, since Sirius hadn't agreed to being formally reintroduced, despite Arcturas's public claim on him. Currently, the Lord didn't actually have the right to make Sirius do shit like he does with other members of his House, such as legally take on duties, assists, or things like custody on behalf of him without his permission. Perhaps Lucius would have been able to find some loophole in the law to make it happen anyway, likely through hella bribes, but it is a moot point since Grandfather Arty is on our side.

"Her Majesty has a better solution. House Emrys Le Fey volunteers to take responsibility for both Heir Black and Heir Potter. Sirius can recover while still being near his godson and House Emrys will insure care for both of them. Additionally, Heir Black can receive treatment by Healers of body and mind, and once declared fit, can take custody."

"House Longbottom supports House Emrys Le Fey's solution."

"As does House Black," Arcturus states flatly, and Lucius looks like he just got bitch slapped whereas Narcissa just looks conflicted and anxious.

"The following are cases that support this precedents and-" Ted promptly goes off on a legal ramble that has most of the audience dazed and confused.

After a while, Dumbledore tries one final time. "Perhaps we should take a vote-"

"There is no such precedent," Lady Zabini points out, razor sharp. "Custody of a child is determined by the parents and Houses involved and allowing the Wizengamot to vote on it would violate laws about the Wizengamot's inability to interfere in 

House matters unless there is a simple majority, and even that has only been used in cases of a criminal nature, like embezzlement or murder, not a civil dispute like custody. Only the Royal house has the authority to make an inquisition into internal House matters without such, and Proxy Andromeda Black- Tonks has already spoken. Are there any here who have a basis to challenge Her Majesty's authority in this matter?"

And well, those were essentially the magic words. No one, dark, light, or gray faction is going to risk pissing the ruling family off when they had so little info on us and how we'd handle it, especially when they legally didn't have a leg to stand on.

I scream my triumph as Dumbledore, with notable reluctance, declares Sirius guardian of one Harry Potter and both of them wards of House Emrys Le Fey.

XXXXXXXXXX

"HELL YEAH!" I whoop accidentally sending myself tumbling off the window seat of the secret study, making me yelp.

A deep laugh rings out somewhere above me and I whirl, beaming in the direction of one of Balinor's paintings. "We won, grandfather!"

I finally managed to get mostly fluent in Latin, making it immensely easier to talk to both Balinor and Kilgharrah, no longer having to bumble our way through archaic Arabic. There is still plenty of bumbling, of course, and my grammar is atrocious, but now at least I didn't need the ancient dragon translating to talk to my ancestor.

"Congratulations, child. But I do believe there are two red-haired minions of yours who have been waiting outside for you," Balinor replies, bemused

My smile becomes painfully wide as I wave goodbye and carefully begin using my magic to sense my surroundings in place of my sight, the ambient power of the castle making it a relatively easy task. Only tripping once, I manage to make my way safely down the stone staircase, and to Balinor's study door where I find the twins waiting eagerly for me. "Hello!"

"We did it-"

"-without any issues! Percy-"

"-and mum didn't even notice!"

I smile widely, holding out my hands only to feel fur. My anger spikes dangerously and I ask Fred to hold onto it, so I don't end up ruining everything prematurely. "Perfect! It's time to pull a great prank!"

I adjust Fred's hands so that they are covered completely in a large handkerchief before taking George's hand and leading them on a little adventure. We take a Travel Door to the Entrance Hall, then another to an inconspicuous sitting room, one of many. Then, I lead them to an equally unremarkable door off to the side that, when opened by George, is a linen closet, but when opened by an Emrys, leads to a dark, stone staircase descending into the bowels of the castle, much like the staircase to the vault.

Torches along the intricately runed wall light up and I smile brightly, creating some floating lights, one of the few things I could do with my magic at the moment, for the slightly uncertain twins. "Don't be scared. This is somewhere you guys haven't explored yet!"

Fred puffs his cheeks up. "We aren't scared! Only-"

"-babies like Ronniekinns and Ginny-"

"-get scared!"

I snort as we descend. "Nah, I think being scared doesn't make you a baby."

"What do-"

"-you mean?"

I hum, blinking away spots as my vision starts returning. The twins are precocious little demons, but I'm not sure if they'll understand this since they weren't even turning five until April. "Well, being brave doesn't mean not being scared."

"It doesn't?" They ask in unison.

"No. It means being scared but not letting that stop you," I inform them, letting the twins think on that for a while until we reach the bottom of the steps, deep in the castle, but not as deep as the vault. "Hey, Georgie, hand me that, would ya?"

George, getting on his tiptoes, grabs a ring with keys on it and I lead them further in and to the right. Fred tilts his head as he comes to a stop next to me as I pull open the large, squeaky door, George helping me. "Ria? Where are we?"

I smile wide and feral, taking in the faint traces of stale dankness, rot, and iron, or perhaps blood, in the air. We were so far down, this place received no fresh air or sunlight at all, and that was perfect.

"Hey, boys? Do you know what one really excellent prank is?" I ask instead of answering, finally taking Scabbers from Fred and giving him a discrete but tight squeeze in a way that the twins won't notice. The rat squeaks loudly in pain, but I ignore it.

"What?" They ask, excitement coating their voices.

I toss Wormtail into the dungeon cell, and quickly throw my body against the door, shutting it shut and then locking it with the key, runes blazing to life all across the metal bars, the whole dungeon glowing for a moment. "When you turn someone else's pranks against them."

Peter Petigrew, finally noticing where he is and rushes to slip his small, furry body out between the bars only to be shocked with bright blue light and sent hurling back into the cell. Fred and George make confused sounds, but I just take their hands, leading them away. "Don't worry. It won't hurt him," I lie. "Hey, did you know it's really dumb to try to disguise yourself in front of a Soothsayer, especially in her own castle where she's connected to the wards and can instantly tell when someone enters?"

Peter's terrified squeeks follow us back upstairs as the twins look at each other and then at me. "We don't get it."

I shrug. "Don't mind me. I'm just rambling. Come on. The others will be home soon. I'm sure they'll enjoy our prank so, so much! Oak!"

The little brownie appears with a pop and I hand him the keys. "Please watch our 'guest' well. And thank you for cleaning up the dungeons. I'm sure it wasn't pleasant, so I apologize."

"It being no problem, Princess. We be glad to do it!" With that, the male brownie vanishes.

And with that, Operation Tom and Jerry was officially complete.

XXXXXXXXXXX

AN: Damn, another update so soon? I'm on a roll! I might be able to update every fic before two weeks are up. Maybe. I am starting school again soon though, so rip.

Anyway, how was it? Satisfying? Yall didn't think I forgot the rat did you? Nahhhh. Something about this way of dealing with it was just super satisfying to me and I'll explain more about it all and the trial's fall out next time. As always, thanks so much, and let me know what you thought 💙