Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

April 1984

The toddlers chased each other around the garden, one with hair as straight and fair as could be, the other with bouncing black curls. They shrieked and laughed, playing their game with wild abandon, completely oblivious to the adults speaking in hushed voices at the doorway. 

“--suspicion is falling on us again! If anyone knows that we harbor--”

“--she is blood, Lucius, what choice do we have--”

“--familial ties matter little to the Azkaban guards--”

“--you would throw out his heir?”

It was the most fire the woman had spoken with to her husband in many years, and it seemed to serve its intended effect. She continued. 

“You are the one who has said that it’s only a matter of time before he returns to power. That he took many steps to ensure his legacy continues,” she pressed. “She is one of those steps he took. And she has been entrusted to us.”

“She is a little girl ,” he said the last word as though it left a foul-taste on his tongue.

“She is the heir to two powerful lines of magic," the woman stood her ground. "She is family."

The man stood silent, frown etched deeply into his face. “She looks too much like Bella. She doesn't look at all like a Malfoy. People will be suspicious.”

“That can be explained away,” the woman said. "It is not out of the realm of possibility for a child to look like her aunt."

“Still…. We cannot allow our connection to her to be emphasized at this time. The Longbottoms' fates have the public looking for someone to hang," the man said. "It was foolish--it wasn't as if it were a couple of mudbloods--no, it was members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight!"

The woman seemed troubled, biting her lip. The little girl gave a particularly shrill shriek as her brother just barely dodged her attempt to tag him. The little boy giggled with glee. 

“We’ll keep her close to the manor,” the woman said. “Draco adores her. It is too late to separate them, you have to realize that, Lucius.”

Lucius frowned as he watched the children play a convoluted game of hide-and-seek. 

“When the Dark Lord returns, he will make her his second in command,” she pressed. “And if we are the one to have raised her…. Will we not also have that power?”

A sudden shout, then a child crying. The woman forsook all notions of propriety and raced to where the children were, both on the ground. The little girl was sobbing loudly, holding a bleeding knee, while the boy’s grey eyes were blown wide in fear. 

“I’m sorry, Mama--Evvy was running--”

“Dray pushed me!” the little girl butted in, lips fixed in a pout. Lucius had followed at a much slower pace, taking in the scene before him with all the focus of a man studying a new business venture. 

“Draco, you should not be so mean to your sister. She is smaller than you,” the woman scolded. “Darling, come here, let Mummy see--”

“Leave it, Narcissa,” Lucius ordered. The little girl looked up at him, large tears spilling from her violet eyes. He crouched in front of her. 

“But Lucius--”

“You may fix the cut when she stops crying,” he said levelly, eyes trained on the little girl. “Consider this day one of your training.”

“She is a baby, Lucius--”

“She is the heir of two great lines, as you said,” he sneered. “This… sniveling is unbecoming of those lines.”

It took several moments, but the little girl stopped crying, though her lip still wobbled and she still clutched at her knee. Lucius then did a complicated motion with his wand and then the torn skin knit itself together. The little girl winced as it did so but did not cry, Draco still wide-eyed in fear as the skin put itself back together. 

“We’ll begin with Tuesdays,” Lucius said. “If we are to do this, Narcissa, we must be sure that Evanna grows into a force to be reckoned with… And that she always remembers who made her into that force.”

Evanna reluctantly took Lucius' hand as he pulled her away from the game with her brother, and her childhood as a whole. 

July, 1996

“I am glad to see you doing well Sirius. And that you’ve finally agreed to meet with me,” the Headmaster said benignly. Any other time, Sirius might have been tempted to think on times when he and James had ended up in front of this desk after some escapade or another. But, he had put off this meeting for weeks in order to receive a full account of Harry’s childhood and schooling thus far. 

James would have killed the man standing in front of him. 

“I considered leaving the country, but Harry convinced me not to," Sirius glowered. "Even after he realized that you had deliberately stomped all over every one of James and Lily's plans for him."

"Sirius, everyone believed you to be--" 

"I don't want to hear your excuses! You left James' son to be starved and locked in a bloody cupboard ! And don't tell me you didn't know, not when you had Arabella Figg spying for you all those years!" 

It had taken a while for Sirius to coax that admission from Harry, but when he had, he had been apoplectic. It had taken a well placed petrificus totalus from Remus to head off Sirius' baser instincts in confronting the worthless muggles who had ‘raised’ Harry. He was still tempted to pay Petunia and Vernon Dursley a visit, but had not yet because of the more pressing matters at hand. Namely, how to completely remove Harry from Dumbledore’s machinations. 

"I had to do what was best," Dumbledore said softly, refusing to meet Sirius’ eyes. 

"Best for who?" Sirius challenged. "Certainly not for Harry. And now you're claiming that this fifteen year old boy is supposed to kill Voldemort when you haven't in all your infinite power and wisdom?"

The Headmaster was silent. Sirius was reminded of when he and James had first talked of joining the Order, how upset Mrs. Potter had been. 

"Dumbledore may be a great wizard, but he never learns from his mistakes! He's sending out younger and more inexperienced students to fight You-Know-Who instead of going himself, just like he did with Grindelwald!"

"The prophecy clearly states--"

"And how often do prophecies go unfulfilled when they aren't paid attention to, huh?" Sirius demanded. "James and Lily only agreed to go into hiding because Voldemort believed the prophecy. They never intended for their son to be anywhere near this war."

"What do you expect me to do, Sirius?" Dumbledore said, his voice harder than the day Sirius was nearly expelled. “We are trying to save our entire world!”

"I don't know--something to keep Harry safe and to end this!"

Dumbledore took off his glasses and pinched his nose as though Sirius had brought about the sudden onset of a headache. It wasn’t implausible; Lily had once called him a walking migraine. That motion caused Sirius to notice something that he had not before. Dumbledore's entire hand was black, shrunken, like that bit of flesh had died but remained attached to the whole body.

"I am trying, Sirius, but I am only an old man. This war will be decided by the new generation."

By Harry, was the implication. But, any sympathy Sirius made have once had for the old man had dried up when Harry had informed him of the Hogwarts letters addressed to the Cupboard Under the Stairs . 

"There are a helluva lot of generations between you and Harry," Sirius replied. "I don't want Harry coming back here this year. Hogwarts is not safe for him--I don’t think it ever has been."

Dumbledore seemed momentarily dumbfounded. "Sirius--surely you see this is bigger than you or even Harry. We all have to make sacrifices--"

Sirius glowered. "I think between the two of us, Harry and I have made more than enough sacrifices for the cause."

"I cannot allow you to take Harry. He is our only--"

"Luckily, you are not Harry's guardian," Sirius said, standing. His teenage self would have marveled to see him acting so disrespectfully towards the Headmaster; his present self found it long overdue. "Not to mention, I have papers just waiting to be sent to the Ministry detailing your extreme negligence of your duties as a Headmaster, allowing a student in your charge to be mistreated the way Harry was."

"You will take Harry away from his home--his friends who have been his family--while they are in the fight of their lives?"

And that was the crux of the matter. As angry as Sirius was with Dumbledore, as much as he wanted--no, needed--to protect his friend's son, his godson would not leave England quietly, not while his friends were in danger. That desire to keep others safe had only intensified this summer as Harry realized how close he had come to leading his friends to their deaths at the Ministry at the end of term. Harry Potter would stand between his friends and family and any danger that might come their way. Sirius was proud of Harry for that bravery, much as he wished he could just spirit the boy away to keep him safe. 

“I can’t trust you to keep him safe,” Sirius finally said, side-stepping the question. “You’ve more than failed at that. As far as I’m concerned, he’s not leaving my side until he is at least seventeen and mastered dueling.”

Dumbledore actually had the decency to look shamed at that. “Harry’s five years at Hogwarts have been more eventful than anticipated, certainly.”

Sirius harrumphed at that. To hear Harry’s account, it was amazing the boy had learned anything at all in the past five years for constantly having to worry about his and his friends’ lives. That, and the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position seemed to have only gotten worse from Sirius' school days to the point it was amazing the boy could point a wand and say a spell at the same time during a duel. 

"What if…." Dumbledore trailed off looking contemplative. Sirius was not sure how much he trusted that look. 

“What if what?” Sirius demanded. 

“What if you were to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts?” Dumbledore said. 

Sirius frowned. Of all the things he expected Dumbledore to say, this was not one of them.

“You want me…. To teach,” he said slowly. 

“I find myself needing to fill several posts this year,” Dumbledore continued. “And, once again, that includes the post of Defense. I believe you completed Auror training when you were young?”

“I--yes--but--”

“And of course, I know all of your exploits with the Order in both wars, and you know better than anyone how to combat dementors,” Dumbledore continued. “You would take an active role in training Harry--no matter what you believe his role in this war ought to be, there is no denying that Voldemort will continue to target him.”

Sirius’ mind was reeling. He wasn’t sure which of his old friends would find this the most hilarious--James, Remus, or Lily. Sirius Black, with a detention record thicker than a Norwegian Ridgeback’s tail, being offered a teaching position at Hogwarts. 

“Harry isn’t the only one who needs to be trained,” Dumbledore said. “You could do a lot of good in such a position, Sirius. Hogwarts students in recent years have not had the best of Defense education.”

“I won’t sign a year contract,” Sirius said. “If I get a whiff of danger for Harry, we are leaving England, I don’t care what anyone says about it.”

The old Headmaster’s eyes were twinkling in a way that Sirius hated. He hated that after everything the man had done to fail Harry, that he was still somehow getting his way. It was the same reason Sirius had hated to play chess with his little brother; any time he felt as though he might have pulled ahead, he quickly learned that he had been lured into a trap. 

“I shall tell the house-elves to begin preparing your rooms,” Dumbledore said. “Gryffindor colors, I presume?”

This was more important than any chess game. Sirius would protect his godson, at any cost.

“Fine, Dumbledore,” he all but spat. “But I will do it my way.”

Chapter Text

The Manor was full.  

When Evanna had arrived home, she had braced herself for a confrontation with her father. Instead, she had been curtly informed by Bellatrix that her father was on the Continent, negotiating with the Bulgarian Ministry to if not side with them in the coming war, to at least stay out of it. 

And he had left Evanna in charge. 

Malfoy Manor had been transformed from an old money estate into a war camp, full of all manner of unsavory sorts. Evanna had almost immediately called Narcissa and Professor Snape to come and stay, even as her birth mother turned her nose up at her request. As soon as they had arrived, Evanna had brought them into what she had taken to referring to as her parlor and asked Professor Snape to help her set the strongest privacy wards as they could manage. 

"This is a test," Professor Snape said almost immediately once the three were positive that they would not be overheard.

Evanna resisted the urge to something as lower class as to roll her eyes. "That much is obvious. The question is what is he testing?"

"He could have learned of your involvement at the end of term," Narcissa warned. "He's testing to see where your loyalties lie."

"I agree that the Dark Lord is suspicious of your loyalties, but if he know what you did in the Ministry, he would not be leaving you in charge of his entire force," Professor Snape said. 

"He can't be gone for long. It's likely I will have no cause to give any order," Evanna said. 

"Doing nothing would make him more suspicious than if you threw a party for the Headmaster," the professor said derisively. 

"The Dark Lord wanted you to be his perfect second in command," Narcissa said quietly. "So do that."

Evanna looked down. How was she supposed to do such a thing? Murder a one year old? Torture an innocent who had no idea their world existed? 

"I can't do anything that would hurt Harry," she said softly. "Or anyone else who is innocent."

She could practically hear the glass breaking from all the objects her professor wanted to throw in that moment, but he restrained himself. She felt more than watched Narcissa squeeze his shoulder. So she decided to make it worse. 

"You've no right to lecture me on dangerous loves, Severus, so spare me that."

Her professor broke away from Narcissa, pacing to the window, long fingers massaging his temples. Her mother seemed torn on which one to go to at that moment. Finally she went to Evanna, clasping her hands, stilling Evanna's fingers from where they had been nervously picking at a stray thread on the couch in front of her. 

“What goals do you have that matches with your father?” Narcissa said. 

Evanna bit her lip, turning the thought over in her mind. She thought of the little boy in the orphanage, hated by his caregivers and terrified by the explosions in his city. She thought of the green-eyed child hated and derided by his family, not knowing his importance in a world he did not know existed. And she knew what she wanted, how she would right her father’s movement that had taken such a Dark turn. 

“I don’t want another magical child growing up the way my father did,” she said. “We need the names of all magical children being raised by muggles.”

Professor Snape jerked from his position, robes whipping aggressively around his ankles. 

“This has the potential to go very, very wrong, Evanna,” he said. 

“Or it could go right,” she pushed. “Argo Pyrites still sits on the Board of Governors, yes? Lucius always referred to him as one of the old crowd.”

Narcissa frowned. “Argo avoided most of the fighting of the first war, though I know he funded may of the Dark Lord’s causes. He spoke often of a sort of primary school, to educate muggle-borns on their place in the world before sending them to Hogwarts. It was never passed because Dumbledore’s influence.”

“He said that the removal of children from their blood relatives was abhorrent,” Professor Snape said. 

“Do you agree with him?” Evanna pressed. 

“When I was younger, I fully believed magical children should only be raised by magical parents,” he said darkly. “I have since learned not to deal in absolutes.”

Evanna knew he was thinking of Lucius’ treatment of her, but there seemed to be more behind his words, especially as Narcissa took his hand and squeezed it in comfort. 

“Tell Pyrites that the Dark Lady requires the Hogwarts Book of Names,” she said. “I want a full audit of the living situations of magical children living in a home with muggles.”

“You’re effectively asking for a list of young muggleborns to be made by a Death Eater,” he said. “This could go very, very wrong.”

Evanna pursed her lips. She could be putting a list of targets into the hands of a dangerous man. But then, she knew very well that any one of her father’s more influential followers may already have such a list. But she did not. 

“Tell him then that I want a meeting… That as a student of Hogwarts I have a vested interest in protecting current and future students from being caught in the crosshairs of this war,” she said. “Tell him I am also concerned as to the living situations of the most vulnerable students.”

Narcissa had a look on her face that was caught somewhere between fear and pride. Professor Snape looked just as dour as usual. 

"If you don't learn to be more careful, you'll get yourself killed," he growled. 

Evanna did her best to smile. "How could that happen when I have my Potions Master looking out for me?"

"I am no longer Potions Master at Hogwarts," he said. "The Headmaster feared I had too much influence over Harry Potter."

Evanna felt her heart stop. "You--you mean you won't be at Hogwarts anymore?"

It was unthinkable, going to Hogwarts, being near Professor Dumbledore without any sort of protection. She was almost tempted to owl her father then and there, to tell him she would train under him until she came of age, that it would no longer be safe for her to learn in Dumbledore’s school, but… But Harry. What would Harry do in that school with only Dumbledore looking out for his safety? He would be dead within the year, a sacrificial lamb on which the entirety of the Wizarding World rested their hopes--

Professor Snape’s lip curled. “My replacement refused to take on the additional responsibility of Head of House. Currently, there are very few Slytherin alum the Headmaster trusts more than myself, so I am privileged to retain that position. For now.”

The fear that had coiled in Evanna relaxed, if only slightly. The professor rose an eyebrow.

“Do not let that fool you,” he said. “None of us is safe. Dumbledore barely trusts me, your father even less so.”

“Tell Mr. Pyrites I expect him for tea on Friday,” she said, showing more confidence than she felt. Something told her she would be putting on such a front for a while, at least until this war was at an end if not longer. “If he has previous plans, he will rearrange them for his Dark Lady.”

Draco POV

Draco despised the hot. His shirts clung to his skin uncomfortably and Egypt’s Ministry was far more strict than England’s about underage magic, so he could not even cast a cooling charm if it did not directly apply to his studies. The sun, too, he hated. It beat down on him almost constantly when he was outside and he could hardly go outdoors for more than fifteen minutes without his skin becoming bright pink and tender to the touch.

“You must stay on your best behavior,” his mother had warned him while they waited on the Portkey to take him to Cairo.

“Yes, I know, Mother,” he had told her, resenting being treated like a small child. 

“You don’t understand what Severus has sacrificed to get you out of the country,” she had pressed. “Dumbledore did not appreciate losing his spy on the Dark Lord’s heir.”

The way she had said it had made Draco squirm with guilt he did not appreciate feeling. 

“I never gave him any important information anyway,” he had mumbled. His mother gave him a look that reminded him she, too, had been a Slytherin, one of three sisters Black, a force to be reckoned with before decades with a cruel husband had diminished her. She seemed to be regaining that old steel. 

“You should know better than to make such deals,” she had told him. “As it stands, you must keep your head done. Please your masters in Egypt, learn all that you can.”

“Yes, Mother,” he told her. “I will write to you when I am settled.”

Without warning, his mother’s blue eyes watered and she looked down, grasping his hand tight enough to leave a bruise. 

“That is the other thing, my son,” she murmured. “We do not believe the Dark Lord will search for you…. But even so. It is best attention not be brought to where you have gone. You must limit your correspondence, especially to anyone associated to the Dark Lord.”

Draco had been afraid before. The way his mother was acting now had him terrified. 

“But Mother--”

“No more time, dear,” she said, kissing his cheek and then his forehead before squeezing him in a tight embrace. “Be excellent, Draco. Stay safe.”

So that was how Draco found himself in Cairo, Egypt, the sun slowly burning him from the inside out, unable to contact his family or his friends--fake or real--or even able to write to his Gryffindor girlfriend. She had once been to Egypt, he remembered. Perhaps she knew how to stay cool. 

What a fall from grace Draco Malfoy had experienced since the Dark Lord’s return. The way his father had once spoken of it when Draco and Evanna were still children, Draco had expected to be treated as a prince when the Dark Lord returned. His sister was now the Dark Lady, but Draco was no more than an exile, his father disgraced and executed. 

Draco realized he had been walking for a rather long time when he realized he did not quite know where he was anymore. Nor did he know Arabic to find his way back to the alchemist’s lab, nor who might be safe to ask for such directions. Cairo did not have a Diagon Alley like London did; instead, magical spaces were integrated into muggle places, usually places of learning or healing. The alchemist--Abasi Mostafa--kept his lab in the basement of a muggle university building.

Draco pushed the urge to perform a point-me charm to the very bottom of his mind. His mother’s warnings to behave had kept him from using any magic, no matter how hot or lost he was, and from sending any letters, no matter how pathetically lonely. He would just have to find his way back. 

Noticing a stall full of scarves and jewelry so fine magic must have been involved, Draco decided he would have to ask for help. Of course, the stall-keep had to be a beautiful girl with olive skin and ebony hair. 

“Erm,” Draco coughed awkwardly, doing his best to remember the Arabic phrases he had memorized at the end of the term. “ Wa 'alayku-- ”

The girl giggled and shook her head. “It is okay. I can speak English.”

“Oh thank Merlin,” Draco muttered. She giggled again. 

“I have met many tourists,” she said. “But I have never heard that phrase--who is this Merlin you thank?”

Draco felt his face burn even more than it already had that day, and he glanced down at the amulets in front of him. He brushed over a golden eye of Horus, encrusted with semi-precious red stones. He felt a pang of longing for red hair and a razor wit.

“This is meant for protection, yes?” he said.

“Yes, though it may not help your problem,” the girl said, her accent thicker with her amusement. Draco looked up, nervous as to what she may mean.

“Oh? And you know my problem?”

“The entire street knows your problem,” she said, laughing again. “You have walked past my booth four times and you are a red-faced foreigner. You are completely lost.”

Draco pursed his lips. “I suppose I could take my business elsewhere.”

“You could not afford that. It is solid gold.”

“I could afford the entire case,” he countered. “Of course, I am sure that sub-par trinkets are up and down this street.”

“These are no trinkets!” the girl said, her voice rising in anger. Draco nearly smirked. “No other stall has produced the real thing in a thousand years!”

So there was magic involved. Good. 

“So you are telling me this is the real thing? These amulets will provide protection?” he pressed. Her mouth opened wide and then snapped shut with a popping sound. “It’s quite alright if you tell me--I am a student of Ustaaz Mostafa.”

Her eyes widened. She knew who he was talking about. 

“I will take this one,” he said, doing his best not to picture how lovely it might look on Ginny. 

“You must be afraid of something to pay so much to keep yourself safe,” she said as he laid out the proper amount of money. 

“I am perfectly safe here,” he said. “I’m sending this back home.”

The girl glanced over him and smiled. “She must be special.” Draco did not say anything. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Erm, yes actually,” Draco admitted. “Do you know the way back to Al-Azhar University?”

The girl laughed again. “I knew you were lost!”

She quickly gave Draco directions to the university and he walked away from the booth clutching the pendant close. 

“ Kaptin Malfoy-- ’ayn kunt --you were supposed to come back!” the alchemist said as Draco re-entered the workroom. “Ah, a present I presume?”

“An amulet,” Draco admitted. The alchemist’s eyes lost some of their mischievous twinkle.

“Even here we have heard of Wizarding England’s civil war,” he said. “You made a wise decision to stay away from it. You would do well not to go back if what our friend told me is true.”

Draco was not sure anyone in England had ever so casually referred to Severus Snape as a friend. 

“I want to stay away from it, efendim ,” Draco said. “But there’s… there’s a girl who is braver than I am.”

Abasi Mostafa grimaced in sympathy, clapping a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “I will help you send her this then. But do not make a habit of it.”

Draco nodded, breathing a little easier than he had in weeks.

Chapter Text

Argo Pyrites seemed more the eccentric professor type than typical Death Eater when Evanna saw him in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. The man wore voluminous robes that rivalled Albus Dumbledore in ostentatious color, with the addition of odd patches here and there, presumably to cover up holes where experimentation had gone awry. Evanna felt oddly overdressed in her slate grey robes and the circlet her father had given her. Narcissa had all but insisted that she wear it when meeting with the school governor.

“ You must remind him who you are ,” she had said. “ Currently, you are still young and untested. Those closest to you recognize your power, but especially with your father so far away, you must rely on such imagery. ”

Bellatrix had been the most maternal Evanna had ever seen her; that is to say she had hovered over Evanna, second-guessing every decision she made. 

" This is how you want to assert your power? Meeting with an old academic? " 

" Father says the future of the Wizarding World lies in Hogwarts, ” Evanna had told her biological mother blandly. “ Given that I am still a student there, I am inclined to agree.”

“ Be careful that you do not overreach, daughter, ” her mother said lightly. It seemed, for once, that there was a note of genuine concern to the older woman’s voice. “ You have so much potential--do not let it be wasted. ”

“ I know what I am doing, Mother, ” she had said, sounding more like a petulant teenager than she ever had. Bellatrix seemed to notice this as well, for she had smirked. 

“ One last bit of motherly advice--bring the snake with you. Old Pyrites sometimes needs put in his place. ”

Evanna coughed lightly as she entered the room Pyrites was waiting in. He seemed to be absorbed in studying the great portrait of Septimus Malfoy hanging on the wall. The blonde was covered in military awards, sword buckled against one hip and snake-topped cane with hidden wand in his other hand. 

“Oh! Milady!” he exclaimed, bowing somewhat clumsily. 

Evanna stepped closer to the portrait. “I see you are interested in history--Great-Grandfather Septimus played a pivotal role in the war against Gellert Grindelwald. Though, I suppose his relation to me is a bit further removed.”

Evanna perched herself carefully on one of the armchairs, posture as though she were a queen sitting on a throne. With a smooth movement of her hand even Narcissa would have been proud of, Evanna gestured for Pyrites to sit. He did so with a rather theatrical show of creaking joints and a sigh to cover his not-so-subtle studying of Evanna. 

“I must admit,” the old man said. “Based on your record, I would not have connected you to the Dark Lord.”

Evanna could see at the forefront of the old man’s mind her own school records, how close she had come every year to failing Charms and Transfiguration. The way she seemed to kill every plant she touched in Herbology. Though her marks in Potions and Ancient Runes and Defence had always been close to the top of her class, there was no denying that she was not the child prodigy that her father had been in Hogwarts. She fought the urge to blush, instead hissing at such a low level that the school governor would not hear. 

“As I am sure you are aware, Governor,” she said coolly, “there are circumstances at Hogwarts that go unnoticed which prevent a student from achieving all they should.  And there are talents that go completely ignored which prevent a student from reaching their full potential.”

Evanna did her best not smirk as a heavy weight landed on her shoulders and Pyrites eyes went wide. Evanna slowly stroked Nagini’s heavy head and the snake flicked her tongue out lazily. 

“I did not mean any offense--”

“Of course you did,” Evanna said bluntly. “Though perhaps not to myself. But you would do well to remember that for all I grew up in this house, I am no Malfoy.”

She had learned from Narcissa that Argo Pyrites had often resented Lucius’ rather heavy-handed--or heavy-galleon’ed as it was--manner of governing Hogwarts. He had often made a point to mention that the top-performing student for the class of 1998 was not Draco, but instead a muggleborn girl. Draco had come in second every year. Evanna, for the year of 1999, had not even made the rankings. 

“How can I be of service to you my lady?” the old man said carefully, eyes never leaving Nagini.

“I wish to hear of your opinion on the state of education for magical children coming into our world after being raised by muggles,” Evanna said, watching the man’s face carefully. 

As she expected, there was a slight sneer to his face. 

“It is the height of injustice for a magical child to be forced to grow up thinking they are one of them ,” he hissed. Evanna rose an eyebrow.

“I must say, I have not heard many of my father’s followers who seem to sympathize with muggleborns,” Evanna said, unsure what to make of the man before her. That is, until he seemed to stiffen. Whatever House it was that Argo Pyrites had been Sorted into, Evanna had begun to think it was not Slytherin, for more reasons than one.

“Hasn’t it been in the papers that Harry Potter himself was raised by muggles?” he said, deflecting. “The things that Skeeter is saying his muggle relatives did to him…. Complete animals, I tell you.”

Evanna had, in fact, been reading the papers fastidiously. Sirius Black had awoken from his coma to take full custody of Harry Potter. Albus Dumbledore was in disgrace after it had been announced that the late Potters had had a list of nearly a dozen magical families they had wished Harry to go to in the event of their untimely deaths. Then had come the rumors and yet-to-be-confirmed reports of being worked like a house-elf, starved for food and affection, forced to live in a cupboard. Nagini hissed when Evanna soft strokes became more like a thump on the head. 

“ Ssssorry, lossst in thought ,” she hissed, ignoring the way that Pyrites shuddered at her casual use of Parseltongue.

“ Don’t let it happen again ,” the large snake hissed back angrily. Nagini was not near as taken with Evanna as the basilisk Del. 

“And your solution is to what? Take any magical child from muggle guardians as soon as they show signs of magic? Surely the muggles will fight back against that,” she said. 

My parents did not. Perhaps my sister would be alive… .

“Forgive me, my lady, but you have spent little time among muggles indeed if you do not think they would be relieved to get rid of the child who has just caused all the light bulbs in the house to explode or has just made the dog purple with green spots. Growing up in a house like this…. Forgive me for thinking you have been sheltered from much of the world's cruelty."

His chuckle was not cruel, but there was a bit of darkness to it. Evanna rose an eyebrow. 

"Given how little I have been present at society functions, I do not believe anyone can make assumptions on my upbringing," she said coolly. She felt a wave of curiosity from the governor, but she brushed it off. "Nevertheless, it is true I've little experience in the muggle world."

"I am sure that is by design, milady," he said cautiously. 

"I need a list of all underage magical children being raised in muggle homes. I want to know if they are being given the opportunity to learn without fear of their families," she said. "I am sure someone of your background can handle that."

Pyrites' face went an odd splotchy color. He had worked hard, she was sure, to bury his lineage under an eccentric personality and strange areas of expertise. Funnily, she thought of her father teaching himself to fly simply because no one had ever told him magic could not do that. Or even of Harry, producing a Patrons at age thriteen and somehow still being unaware of just how powerful a wizard he was. It was a scary thought that perhaps muggle-raised wizards had an advantage over the old families. 

"I will do what I can," the man said carefully. Evanna could sense he was trying to circumvent her, that she would need to make sure he did as she told him. 

"I expect your initial list in three day’s time, when we will discuss a timeline for checking on the children," she said. "It would be best that you remember orders from myself shall be regarded the same as my father's orderssss ."

She let the last word slip into a hiss, that had Nagini rousing from her half-asleep state to flicker her tongue at the older man again. 

This time, he could not repress his shudder. 

His words stuck with Evanna though. While her upbringing had been far from idyllic, she had no experience whatsoever with muggles. The closest she came was the half-bloods and muggleborns she knew from Hogwarts. And yet, she knew her father expected for the pair of them to usher in a new era in which wizards lived openly among the muggles, bringing an end to the awful wars the muggles had fought in the past century. But she had learned that there was a strong disconnect between what her father said he wanted to be his legacy in this world and what it actually was. 

So, the day before Argo Pyrites was supposed to bring her the list of muggle raised children, Evanna dressed in her least-wizardly outfit--a short-sleeved robe that looked more akin to a sundress and flat mary-jane shoes. She did not tell anyone before slipping into the drawing room and Flooing to the Leaky Cauldron. The pub was emptier than Evanna had ever seen it; she supposed the events of the end of term had many people taking precautions and staying home. 

“Welcome, young lady,” the barkeep said, nodding his head to her. “Any table is open if you are staying….”

He trailed off hopefully. She supposed he had not had much business of late. But, she was a woman on a mission. Still, it never hurt to support a small business….

“I’m just passing through,” she said, “a little… gift shopping. So if you could not mention that you saw me…”

She gave a charming wink as she lay a few gold galleons on the greasy counter. He chuckled, nodding his head and winking in return. Evanna did her best to not look as nervous as she felt stepping out on the muggle London side of the pub instead of the Diagon Alley side.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!

Evanna nearly yelped aloud as a large truck blasted past her, nearly splashing her with fetid water from a puddle. The difference between the empty pub and the busy muggle street was staggering. Sounds came from everywhere, people were everywhere , vehicles flying down the road, buildings that looked impossibly tall to have been built without magic, a fine mist of rain that was not blocked by climate charms, noise, noise, noise--

….missed the bloody bus again….

….don’t think he’s just working late….

….I swear to God if she has left….

….oddest fashion on the young these days…..

….the child has to stop….

….never wanted to be living like this….

….wish he would bleeding commit….

….why am I so….

….I should just quit this damned job….

….hope she will say….

….will he ever act normal….

Somehow, the thoughts of the muggles were every bit as disorienting and varied as when Evanna ventured into huge groups of wizards. If anything, the thoughts came at her stronger, without any natural magical defenses to keep them from assaulting the forefront of her mind. She forced herself to walk forward, head down so as to avoid the eye contact that would surely only worsen the voices swarming in her head for attention. She walked quickly, looking for somewhere, anywhere, that might provide a moment’s respite from the Merlin-damned noise of the muggle-world.

After a block or two of Evanna bumping into various muggles as she did her best to avoid eye-contact, she started to feel a little more normal, her defences snapping back into place to keep out the noise. Still, she was relieved to spot a sign for a park up ahead. Even if it was crowded, at least she would be removed from the constant movement that was muggle London.

She heaved a sigh of relief as green and trees took the place of the grey of too-tall buildings and pavement. The first bench she came across, she sunk onto, closing her eyes for just a moment, before realizing that she had sat down beside someone. 

“Pardon me, I didn’t notice--”

She opened her eyes to find green eyes staring back at her, a disbelieving grin just below.

This may be my best summer yet.

“Ev?”

Evanna blinked a few times, wondering just how it was that fate always seemed to guide right to Harry James Potter.

Chapter Text

For once in his life, Harry seemed to be having some amount of good luck. Before the end of term, he had finally kissed the girl he had been pining over since second year. What’s more, she kissed him back. When he got off of the Hogwarts Express it had been Sirius, not the Dursleys, waiting to take him home. If he had cast a Patronus in that moment, it would have driven out all the dementors in Azkaban. The only blight on his summer was Sirius’ original desire for him to not go back to Hogwarts, but even that had been cleared up. Most days were spent with Sirius and Remus, training or hearing stories about their antics at Hogwarts, more than some of the time spent playing pranks on each other. It felt like a family. On days when Sirius had meetings with the goblins or the Ministry to sort out everything that had happened in the past fifteen years, Harry had taken to wandering muggle London streets, frequenting all the pubs and ice cream shops that he never got to visit when living with the Dursleys.

And today. Today he had bumped into his new girlfriend without even intending to. He could not help the grin on his face. 

“Potter,” she suddenly stood from the bench she had unexpectedly plopped herself onto beside him. “What--I mean--you shouldn’t call me that!”

Her lovely purple eyes were flitting around, searching out threats like her brother or Housemates like they were still at Hogwarts. Harry’s grin widened as something struck him. 

They were not at Hogwarts.

“Evanna what are you doing?” he said, standing and walking towards her slowly, imitating what Remus had said Sirius once acted like around girls he liked in their school days. Her cheeks reddened.

“Merlin, Potter, we’re enemies, remember?” she pushed. “People watching may get the wrong impression.”

“Tell me,” he said, still smiling as he took another step toward her, “when was the last time Death Eaters went for a stroll in a muggle park?”

Harry had never been exactly tall, but he felt like he was on top of the world as he looked down into her eyes. He could see the moment that she realized what he had. 

They were free. 

First her lips twitched up, then her face split into a full smile that nearly took his breath away.

“Not ever that I can recall,” she said before reaching forward on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his. 

Harry’s eyes closed automatically and he slipped one hand around her waist, the other going to her hair. It had grown since her hasty chop a year ago, past her shoulders in lovely, soft ringlets. Fire seemed to shoot up his veins as Evanna pressed her small body closer to his in response. After a moment or two, she pulled away from him, though she did not go very far. He had no intention of letting her. 

“What was that you were saying about being enemies?” he teased. She laughed, scowling playfully at him. 

“It is called caution , Potter,” she drawled, the use of his last name sending tingles up his spine. “You might learn some.”

“And you might unlearn some,” he replied cheekily, pulling another kiss from her lips, reveling in the fact that he could do so without worry. She pulled away more quickly than the first kiss, a pretty blush across her cheeks. 

“Harry,” she admonished, twisting away from him. “A little discretion. We are still in public.”

“We are, aren’t we?” he said brightly. “We’re in a public place, but no one knows who we are. I suppose there is only one thing to do, isn’t there?”

“What would that be?” she asked, smiling.

“Evanna Malfoy, would you go on a date with me?”

She smiled. “You are ridiculous, Harry Potter.”

But she took his hand anyway.

Harry thought for a moment, before deciding what to do, remembering the mushy films that Aunt Petunia liked to watch. A dinner and a movie, that was the classic date, wasn’t it? Of course, the last time he had been to the cinema was when the school had taken them all on a field trip to see a musical about a red-haired orphan. The only thing he remembered was telling a teacher that Mrs. Hanigan reminded him of Aunt Petunia, which had caused him to spend a month in the cupboard when the teacher repeated it to the Dursleys. Still, the thought of sitting in a dark room besides her, holding her hand, perhaps more….

Yes, this was a sound plan. 

"Where are we going?" she asked. 

"Have you ever been to the cinema?" he asked. She gave him a blank look. 

"I assume that is some sort of muggle place?" she asked. "You should know the answer to that." 

He grinned. "It's sort of like a cross between a play and a Wizard's photograph. You want to go?"

Evanna nodded and off they went. When they arrived, Harry had thought to see the latest Ralph Firmness movie, but Evanna had been entranced by Romeo + Juliet. 

"I had no idea that muggles liked Shakespeare," she said. "I mean, how do they even do it?"

Harry laughed. "William Shakespeare was a wizard?"

"Well, how do you think they had a bear onstage if it wasn't an animagus?"

Harry wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that, so instead he just ordered some popcorn and soda. Evanna had wrinkled her nose adorably at the bubbly sensation of the soda, but had politely insisted that “it isn’t….. terrible". Somehow, the look of polite disgust made him feel even more in love with her than the day he had accidentally blurted out to Snape. 

She nearly jumped into his arms when the movie started, the loud music of the credits startling her. She then started straining to look over the seats. Several people behind them grumbled. 

“What are you looking for?” Harry whispered. 

“Where is the orchestra?” she asked in a low voice. 

He did his best not to laugh, he really did, but there was little use for such a thing when sitting next to someone who could read minds. 

“There is no orchestra,” he whispered back into her hair. It smelled like lavender. “They recorded it.”

“But--”

Someone from behind shushed them loudly. Harry grabbed Evanna’s hand, a small part of him just trying to keep her from reaching for her wand, but the much larger part because he was fascinated with how much smaller her hand was than his. 

Evanna only had a few questions after that (“In the play they had swords!” “Why is Mercutio dressed like that?” “Are you sure there isn’t magic involved in this?”), but mostly she leaned her head against his shoulder. Harry found himself paying a lot more attention to the lavender scent of her hair, the tickle of her breath against his skin than he did the movie. 

As Romeo took the poison, he noticed that his shirt felt a bit damp. He looked down to see Evanna’s face was shining from the light coming off the screen, tear tracks outlining her cheeks. He cupped a hand around her cheek, lifting her face to face him. The fear and sadness were evident in her eyes… He had no need to read her mind at that moment. 

“That won’t be us,” he whispered. “I swear.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Harry Potter,” she whispered back.

“I won’t.”

She seemed to search his face before reaching forward and kissing him deeply, her hands burying themselves in his hair, the arm rest between their seats digging uncomfortably into his abdomen as Juliet lifted Romeo’s gun behind them. But what did that matter when she was there, kissing him in the muggle world, where there was no prophecy, no Voldemort, no Dumbledore, no anything to say they shouldn’t be anything more than two teenagers falling in love?

She was quieter as they walked out of the cinema, though she still held his hand.

“I’m not the one who can read minds, Evanna,” he said, the silence feeling unbearable. She blinked, seeming to return from someplace far away. 

“I never knew that muggles could create something like that,” she said. “Something that could make you feel….”

She trailed off. Harry squeezed her hand. 

“Hermione could probably tell you more about it than I could,” Harry admitted, before finally asking. “What are you doing around muggle London anyway?”

Evanna looked away, biting her lip. “I wanted to learn what it's like for myself. He--he was raised here. In muggle London. He made everything sound so terrible.”

It took Harry several moments to realize who Evanna was talking about, the notion was so outlandish. Voldemort… raised in the muggle world. He remembered from that awful night in the graveyard, that Voldemort had said he had a muggle father, but this…

She stopped walking, pulling him to a stop as well. The look on her face was fierce, every ounce the “Dark Lady” the Slytherins whispered about. Harry knew what she was likely about to say, but with every fiber of his being he disagreed. 

"We should do this again," he said quickly before she could say anything.

"Harry--"

"Not a single person has recognized me once out here. And obviously you have no trouble leaving when you want to--youve been with me the entire day. So why don't we do it again--say Friday at one?"

Harry gave her what he hoped to be a winning smile. She frowned. 

"You do realize how utterly ridiculous all of this is? All the things that could go wrong if my father or Dumbledore were to find out?" she pushed. "Don't give me that look, Harry Potter, you know I don't want things to be this way--"

He reached forward and kissed  her softly. She melted against him and he knew there was nothing in the world that could stop him from falling in love with her. Not Dumbledore, not Professor Snape, not her Merlin-damned father. 

He had known her first. 

"I know we won't be able to see each other like this at school," he told her, "so why shouldn't we take advantage of this while we can?"

Evanna still looked hesitant. "Careful, Potter, your Slytherin is showing."

He smiled and squeezed her hand again. 

"I--I suppose another date couldn't hurt," she finally said. "But I really must be going now."

"I suppose it would be too much for me to be able to walk you back to the Leaky?" he asked. 

She shook her head. "You know that would be reckless."

"Can't have you thinking I've gone completely over to the green and silver."

She shook her head again, this time smiling. "I'll see you Friday, Harry."

Harry did not stop smiling the rest of the day. 

Voldemort 

It had been a long time since Voldemort had conversed with international magical leaders, though not as long as it seemed he had been kept waiting for. The Bulgarian Minister, it seemed, was not a stickler for punctuality. By the time the minister finally arrived, Voldemort was nearly ready to shoot an ‘avada’ at the man. 

“Velcome,” the minister said with a thick accent as he gave a firm handshake. Voldemort respected how well he hid his flinch. “I ‘ope you have not been waiting for too long.”

“I hope I have not been waiting for nothing,” Voldemort replied silkily. “Have you had time to think about my offer?”

“I must say, the magical Britain of two decades ago…. There vas a reason my country did not become involved,” the man said uncomfortably. 

“I do not anticipate this war to be drawn out,” Voldemort said. “I have learned from my past… shortcomings.”

“I must say--I am a family man. I cannot--”

“This is your family?” Voldemort lifted a picture frame off the minister’s desk. “Your daughter?”

The little girl smiling at the camera had wild curls and missing front teeth, a young version of her father behind her, his hand on her shoulder, proud and strong. There was something in the child that made Voldemort think of his own heir, though he had never known her so young and carefree. Evanna had not been what he expected in more ways than one. He had not intended to leave her alone this summer for even a moment, but upon learning the Bulgarians and other Eastern European countries were thinking of allying with the British Ministry, Voldemort had to act. And, he had reasoned, giving Evanna some amount of command would be useful. He could learn what her priorities were, determine her loyalty to him while Bella kept a close eye on the girl before he set her to kill his oldest enemy. Thus far, she had set a meeting with Argo Pyrites, a move which Voldemort had not expected. 

Pyrites had been a Ravenclaw muggleborn, just a few years younger than Voldemort. He had been among the original Knights of Walpurgis, wanting retribution against his parents for the murder of his twin when they had started showing signs of magic. He had been amongst the most vocal of those wanting to pull muggleborn and magical children from their muggle guardians. It had not been the most popular stance amongst the family oriented Pure-bloods, but it had resonated deeply within orphaned Tom Riddle. 

And, it seemed, it had with his daughter, too. His daughter who had been raised by the height of Pureblood society, but had been so loathed by who he had thought to be his most useful follower that she had lost access to entire swaths of her magic. Oh, the girl was still powerful, and likely could one day perform feats of Dark Magic that not even Voldemort could, and that was not even considering the Ancient Magic that flowed through her veins from her mother. 

But would she do it? That was the question. Any other of his followers he would have severely punished, maybe even killed for the suspicions being raised about her loyalty. But, somehow, he could not bring himself to hurt the girl that was of his own flesh. He had been able to murder his father and grandparents without a second thought, but his heir, who was so like him, who seemed to hang all her hopes on every bit of praise, every bit of recognition, every bit of affection he gave her…. 

The minister seemed nervous that Voldemort had lingered over the picture of his family. 

“She is grown now, into a vonderful vitch,” the minister admitted, taking the frame and turning it around forcefully. 

Voldemort then made a calculated move. "Unfortunately, I was not there when my daughter was that age."

With a feeling of victory, Voldemort watched as the Minister's eyes widened. "You--you 'ave a daughter?"

"She is entering her OWL year," Voldemort said. 

"Vith a father such as you, I am sure she vill do vell."

"She is certainly more powerful than her peers," he said, lips curving into something of a smirk. "Her upbringing was…. Not as I would have wished. But she has managed to overcome much of it already. She is committed to bringing our world out of the shadows, creating a new Camelot."

"You should be very proud of such a child," the minister said, his dull eyes roving over the Dark Lord's face. 

"I consider her one of my greatest accomplishments," the Dark Lord said. He was surprised and a little concerned to realize that he meant it. 

It had worked, though, for the Minister had crossed the room and poured two small glasses of firewhiskey, before handing one to Voldemort. 

"I believe ve may be able to find some common ground," the minister said, tipping his glass to Voldemort before tipping it back. 

The Dark Lord smiled.

Chapter Text

Evanna frowned as she went over the list for what seemed the umpteenth time. She had had no idea so many students at Hogwarts had been raised by muggle relatives, many of them because of parents who had lost their lives in the previous year. There were students from all houses represented, though there were fewer students being raised by someone other than their parents in the years younger than Evanna. Still, it was quite the list to go through, though at least Pyrites had been kind enough to mark the students whose Heads of House had made note of as acting strangely. Of course, Harry Potter was chief among those, but Evanna was surprised to notice her own roommate, Eva Blishwick, on the list. 

“This will take forever,” she grumbled to herself, sharpening a quill with gusto.

It had been over a week since Evanna had gone on the muggle date with Harry, and they had been out twice more, meeting at a little cart that served fried fish and chips. They were supposed to go out a third time, if she could get a handle on this damned list. 

“ You’ve never had fish and chips? ” Harry had said, gaping at her as he poured vinegar over the chips. 

“ Newspaper is hardly considered proper dinnerware in Malfoy Manor ,” she admitted. 

“ I forget I have such a posh girlfriend ,” he teased. “ I wonder-- ”

He had stopped then, as Evanna had smeared tartar sauce on his nose. She grinned thinking about it. 

She nearly knocked over her inkwell when Narcissa barged in without warning. Her eyes flicked over Evanna, taking in the denim trousers she had decided to try wearing for the first time and sleeveless top that showed without a doubt that her left arm was unmarked. Her aunt-mother’s lips pursed into a frown as she crossed the room to Evanna’s wardrobe, pulling out formal black robes with flowing sleeves and a shifting serpentine pattern. 

“Mother, what--”

“You need to change,” Narcissa said.

“I have plans--”

“Not anymore,” Narcissa said. “Your father is home.”

For a moment, Evanna was thrown backwards into her childhood where those words meant bruises and cuts and curses and just for a moment she couldn’t breathe… And then she remembered. That father was dead. Buried. Wiped away as though he had never existed and the world was better off for it.

And her real father was all the more dangerous. 

Evanna took the robes from Narcissa and ducked behind her changing screen, shimmying out of her denims quickly.

“And? Is he….”

She wasn’t quite sure what to ask. Well? Tired? Angry? 

“Bella said that he was successful in his mission. He seems to be in a good mood,” Narcissa said carefully. “He wants a full report of what you have been doing since he’s been away.”

Evanna stepped out from the changing screen and stood in front of her mirror. Her hair had grown out past her shoulders after the rough chop at the end of her third year. She had finally gained an inch or two in height, giving her more of the image she ought to have as the heir of the Dark Lord.

“Hand me that jar of Sleakeazy’s, would you?” she said. Narcissa did so, also passing Evanna a comb. “What has Aunt Bella--Mother already told him?”

“As far as I can tell, he knows about your meeting with Pyrites,” Narcissa said carefully as Evanna ran the hair potion through her curls. “I don’t think Bella even realizes how much time you’ve been spending out of the Manor, though.”

Evanna nodded, smoothing her hair into a high ponytail. She pulled the skirt of her robes down, studying the way that they flared at her knees. It occurred to her that she no longer looked like a child, not that she had ever really been one. She turned to Narcissa.

“Do I look like the Dark Lady?” she asked wryly.

“Be careful,” Narcissa warned. “Please, Evanna. I know that you’ve got ideas in your head about what your place is in this war--”

“You worry too much, Mother,” she said, giving Narcissa a kiss on the cheek. "He's in the study, I presume?"

"Yes, but--"

Evanna did not allow her once mother to finish her statement and instead swept from the room toward the study where her father waited on her. She took a moment to breath deeply through her nose, steeling her mind and burying any thoughts of Harry down, down, down, before knocking on the door. 

"Enter," came her father's cold voice. 

This time, he was not in a chair in front of the fire, but instead sitting behind the grand desk, much the same as Evanna had been not ten minutes before. She dipped her head briefly to him, refusing to betray an ounce of wrong doing she had done by acting more subservient than he had told her to be. He rose from the desk and opened his arms. 

"Evanna," he said, a hint more of warmth in his voice. Evanna smiled herself and went into his embrace. The feel of his magic surrounding her was almost overwhelming enough that she nearly didn't notice the probing tendrils of magic in her mind. She thought of her meeting with Pyrites, of the Slytherins approaching her at the end of the year, of anything that her father would approve. When he drew back from her, he didn’t exactly smile, but Evanna could tell that he was satisfied with what she had shown him. None of it was a lie, she reassured herself. Her father wanted the wizarding world to come out of hiding. He wanted magical children to be safe, to understand their place in the world. 

“Father,” she said. “How was the continent?”

“I went with the intention of making world leaders agree to neutrality as I fought against the British Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore’s faction,” he said. “Instead I gained allies who will join us in our crusade to free the magical world.”

Evanna blinked. She knew from the history books that the first war had been largely left to the British Isles, that very few international wizards had seen the need to interfere in what they thought of as an internal conflict. But, if her father had succeeded in selling his cause to a more international army…. 

"And I have you to thank," he continued. 

"Me? But--how--I--" Evanna swallowed hard. She wasn't sure yet if she was happy with these alliances, if it was a good or bad thing for their world. To be part of them…. 

The Dark Lord smirked a little and gestured for her to take a seat as he sat behind the desk again. She blinked away the image of half-moon glasses and icy cold eyes. 

"Sometimes it is shrewd to reveal weakness, if it gives your opponent reason to connect with you," he said. "By revealing myself as a parent, our new allies were able to see past Dumbledore’s lies and begin to envision a better future for our world.”

Evanna’s mind was spinning. “What does that mean? How many… how many allies have we gained?”

“Thus far, the Bulgarian, Greek, and Romanian Ministries have made formal alliances with us,” her father said. “Albania is ready to give us what we want as well. Several others have agreed to neutrality, but I am positive that they will quickly join us as it becomes obvious who will win this war.”

“Wow--that--wow,” she said, still unable to fully process what this all may mean going forward. 

“Luckily as I travel securing alliances, I have someone looking over my interests at home,” her father said. “Your mother says you met with Argo Pyrites?”

“Yes, he has a plan for a school--”

Her father held up a hand. “I am well aware of Argo’s ambitions. While I do believe it to be an… interesting project for you to work on, there are more pressing matters.”

“I wouldn’t think there would be any more pressing matter than the future of the Wizarding World,” Evanna argued, “we lost so many magical Britons in the last war--”

“We need to rebuild our numbers, I am aware,” her father said, leaning forward on the table, “but children ignorant of our world won’t win this war. We need to recruit fighters.”

Something deep in Evanna rebelled at that. War--war was ugly. It was why there were only three girls in her dorm room at Hogwarts, why there were so many orphans amongst her school mates. It was why the Slytherins had come to her at the end of the year, begging for their fathers to come home. 

“There are quite a few of your followers in Azkaban right now,” she said. “We already know how to break them out--”

“ I ,” her father emphasized the word, “rescued my followers who were locked up in Azkaban because of their loyalty to me. But to rescue every subpar wizard who is caught--it would create a culture of mediocrity.”

Evanna chewed her lip. “You would earn the loyalty of their children, bringing their fathers back home--”

“Their children should already be loyal to me,” her father said darkly. 

Evanna did her best not to show her nerves, not to give any hint of weakness. It had always been dangerous to show fear in front of Lucius; she would not show fear in front of the Dark Lord. 

“But if we rescue them--give them one chance--we solve two problems,” she pushed, “we reclaim fighters and they will be all the more loyal and eager to prove themselves--”

Her father suddenly brought a fist down on the desk and Evanna could not stop herself from jumping. His face had curled up into a snarl for the briefest of moments before he seemed to forcibly relax himself. Evanna remained tense, all too aware of her wand in the holster around her wrist, how quickly it could be in her hand, how much time she had to capitalize on the moment of surprise before her father ultimately took her down--

“I will not be breaking them out of Azkaban,” he ground out slowly. “However, it would be wise for you to gain experience on the field before your mission.”

Evanna blinked, the tension in her body not leaving for a second. “My--my mission?”

Her father smiled, cruelty edged in it. “I have not been teaching you this past year for you to completely sit out this war, Evanna. You will be given the opportunity to prove your power.”

“But--but what mission?”

“Bring home these subpar soldiers and we will discuss it.”

Her father gave her very specific parameters as to who she would be bringing, what she would be allowed to do, the Death Eaters she would have to leave behind. As Evanna finally left the study, she felt as though a pit had opened up in her stomach. 

She was going to Azkaban. And somehow, she knew that would not be the most dangerous thing she would be doing in the near future.

Harry POV

The door to Grimmauld Place slammed, waking up the old portrait of Mrs. Black, who immediately started screaming filth for all to hear. Harry ignored it, even as he heard Remus, who was staying at Grimmauld Place before going out on another mission to the werewolf packs, trying to shut her up. Instead, he went on to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of pumpkin juice from the cabinet Sirius had placed a chilling charm on. 

He popped off the cap just as Sirius walked in, still muttering curses about his mother. Harry took a large drink of pumpkin juice. 

“Merlin, Prongslet, no need to get my dear old mum started just because one date went poorly,” he said. Harry choked on his pumpkin juice. 

“Who said I had a--”

“The amount of cologne you’ve been wearing just to ‘explore muggle London’,” his godfather put air quotes around the last, eyebrows waggling like a muggle cartoon. Harry felt his face burn and Sirius sniggered. "Trouble in paradise? Did your girl turn up her nose at your l'eau du phénix ?"

Harry scowled at Sirius. Truthfully, Evanna had never shown up. He had waited at their usual spot until the owner of the little fish and chips stand had given Harry a free order of chips out of sympathy. He was torn between being irritated at the embarrassment or being worried about why exactly Evanna had stood him up. 

“Harry, Sirius, Professor Dumbledore is still waiting in the parlor,” Remus said, poking his head into the meeting. 

“Dumbledore? Why?” Harry asked.

The scowl on Sirius’ face matched Harry’s feelings exactly. Once, Harry had found Evanna’s insistence that Dumbledore was manipulating him to be crazy, if not a bit insulting as well. But then he had been told the prophecy, right as he was reeling from Sirius’ ‘death’, and everything that had been revealed in the aftermath. 

“Don’t make that face, Padfoot, he is still the leader of the Order,” Remus said. “We still need him. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to regain some goodwill there.”

“I agreed to be the man’s bloody Defense teacher, what more does he want?” Sirius said, hands flinging around in his frustration. 

“He wants to speak with Harry,” Remus said. It sounded as if he had said just that many times. “He’s been asking for over a week--”

“What does he want with me?” Harry said before Sirius could say anything. 

“He says he needs help with a staffing issue,” Remus said. 

“He wouldn’t give me the Prefect position but he wants me to be a professor?” Harry said dryly. 

“Not quite.”

The trio turned as one to see that the Headmaster had evidently become tired of waiting in the parlor. Sirius put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, so tight it was almost painful. Harry had not been so close to the Headmaster since he had destroyed his office and been told of his role in the war. The Headmaster looked older now, his wrinkles deeper, his hair less shiny silver and more dull grey. Even his robes were a boring olive green color, lacking their usual bright prints and lurid colors. Harry’s eyes lingered on the Headmaster’s hand, blackened and shriveled as though it was dead attached to his arm. Harry looked back up at Dumbledore’s face; the old man had clearly noticed him looking and hid his hand in his robes. 

“This was not part of our agreement, Dumbledore,” Sirius said, something of Padfoot’s growl in his voice. 

“I would not be here if it was not imperative to Harry’s training, Sirius,” the Headmaster said. “Currently, I find myself unable to convince an old friend to return to his post at Hogwarts. I believe Harry may be able to help with that. Will you come with me to hire a new Potions master, Harry?”

The entire day had been irksome and confusing, and this was only adding to it. Sirius pulled Harry so he was standing in front of him, both hands on Harry’s shoulders.

“You don’t have to do anything he wants, Harry,” he said in a low voice. “Dumbledore’s problems are not your responsibility.”

Harry glanced over Sirius’ shoulder and for just a moment, he saw a flash of desperation flicker over Dumbledore’s face. He remembered in first year, Dumbledore seeming to be larger than life, a father or a grandfather figure who believed in him. Now, Harry knew that had been an illusion, that the professor who had seemed to hate him was likely the one most concerned for his well-being. And that was apparently now being replaced. It was a chess game larger than one he, Ron, and Hermione had fought their way across five years before. 

Harry found himself wanting to know what Dumbledore’s strategy was.

“What the hell,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

The summer had been beyond boring, despite the odd sort of tension that permeated the Burrow. Fred and George had moved out, leaving the house quieter than it had been in seventeen years, not even Ron's attempts to convince their parents to let him join the Order of the Phoenix quite managed to fill the silence. Ginny's mum had taken to carrying the family clock around with her constantly, and her dad was almost never home between his new job at the Ministry and his duties with the Order had him gone most of the day. Of course, too, Bill had brought home the French wonder as his fiancee, which she could have done without. Ginny had visited with Luna a few times, but never for very long due to her mother's desire to have her youngest within arm's reach as much as possible after the events at the end of term. 

" Have you owled Evanna? " Luna had asked her once. 

" You know I haven't ," Ginny replied. 

" Bridget says she's worried about her, " Luna continued. " It must be scary, living in that big house with everything going on ."

" Evanna is a coward ," Ginny said harshly. " And so is Bridget ."

" You know their families-- "

" They could leave if they wanted to ," Ginny said. " Others have done it. But I don't want to talk about them anyway--want to go flying? "

Harry and Hermione had come for their customary summer visit, but still Ginny had heard nothing from Bridget or Evanna or Draco. Harry, too, had seemed on edge, pulling her aside and questioning her. 

" Have you heard from Evanna? ” he had whispered on the third floor landing of the Burrow. 

“ No, I haven’t, and frankly I don’t want to ,” she had replied. 

“ Why? What happened? ” 

“ Do you not remember her hanging us out to dry at the end of term? We asked her for help and she refused, Harry! ” Ginny hissed. “ You of all people have to understand she is on the other side of this war!”

Harry had frowned, shoving his hands deep into his jeans pockets--jeans that finally fit now that he was away from those horrible muggle relatives. “ You of all people know her better than to realize it’s not that simple, Ginny .”

But it was that simple to Ginny. Draco had all but told her that Evanna was willing to do whatever You-Know-Who asked of her, even if she had not taken the Dark Mark. 

Yet , Ginny thought to herself snidely. 

It was while Harry and Hermione were still there that there was a tapping at the window. The family paused as Mrs. Weasley went to answer it.

“It’s--it’s a falcon,” Mrs. Weasley said. 

“That’s odd--Bill’s not in Egypt anymore,” Ron said, though it was so garbled by a mouth full of food that only a sister could possibly hope to understand it. 

Ginny's eyes flew open and she was up and across the Burrow kitchen in an instant, just as her mum took the small package from the bird. 

"Ginny, who do you have mailing you from Egypt?" her mother said suspiciously as she read the name on the parcel. 

"No one," she said quickly. Ron elbowed Harry, while Hermione swatted at his hands. 

"Then we should wait for your father to check it for curses--"

"It's fine, Mum!" Ginny exclaimed in a choked voice, snatching the parcel and tucking it into the pocket of her robes. 

"Ginevra--"

"I just remembered--I need to practice some quidditch moves. Who knows who'll be quidditch captain?" she babbled, all but running out of the house. She went straight to the chicken coop--the one place her brothers would not go unless forced--and pulled the package out. 

The address was written in fancy script that just screamed private tutor with emerald green ink. Ginny smiled to herself and shook her head before opening it. She gasped at the ornate necklace sitting on a bed of satin, red stones sparkling in the morning sun. She lifted it out of the box, the zing of magic tingling her skin. Oh, this was insanely expensive, she knew before even reading the note in the bottom of the box. 

G--

There were several lines of crossed out words that Ginny could not quite make out. She could all but picture Draco, skin more burnt than Ginny’s had been when they had visited Bill, frowning as he tried to figure out what to say to her. 

This made me think of you. The witch selling it said there were strong warding spells around it. Please stay safe. It’s probably best we forget each other. I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back. 

He had again crossed out several possible closings before landing on: Ever yours, D .

Ginny hated herself for the small tear that slipped out of the corner of her eye. Leave it to Draco bloody Malfoy to break up with her via bleeding falcon, while also gifting her a necklace that probably cost as much as her father earned in a week at the Ministry. 

“Ginny?” 

Ginny wiped her face aggressively before looking up to see Hermione coming around the door of the chicken coop. 

Hermione, ever observant, quickly took in the letter, lingering tears, and the pendant in Ginny’s palm. Her brown eyes went wide. 

"Who gave that to you?" she demanded, eyes flicking to the letter. "Ever yours, D?"

Ginny quickly crumpled the letter in her hand, shoving it into her pocket. 

"There's no Gryffindor in your year with 'D' as their initial," Hermione said suspiciously. 

"Well then maybe it's not from a Gryffindor in my year," Ginny snapped. "Some people branch out from their immediate classmates, you know!"

Hermione blinked and Ginny didn't take the time to apologize for her rudeness before marching out of the chicken coop, looking for her broom. She made sure that no one was watching as she slipped the amulet over her head and tucked it under her shirt, the metal nearly as warm as the Egyptian sun on her skin. 

Evanna POV

The stone room echoed with yelling voices. 

Evanna glanced around and picked out an old man that looked almost like Salazar, but was off somehow. He was yelling at a younger wizard, spittle flying. 

"My great-grandson," a voice in her ear admitted. She turned to see Slytherin himself. "Somehow, my line only grew angrier the more time that passed after my daughter's slaughter."

"No! We should not hide from them! We ought to rule them--stamp out their base desires to destroy us!" the old Slytherin yelled. 

"What you call for is inhumane!"

"What I call for will protect our children and children's children from the filth that wants to see us wiped out!"

"He's mad," she murmured. 

"Yes," her ancestor said simply. "And he has only a little power left and a family memory of hatred."

"What are you saying?"

Salazar turned steely eyes on her, and for a moment, it was as though she was looking at her father. "The world will never be as it ought with that kind of hatred. Your father is lost. Do not try to save him."

"He's my father," Evanna said. 

"And he has gone farther down the dark path than any of my descendants."

“But--”

“There is nothing that can be done; his soul is too broken. You must stop his plans.”

Evanna woke with a start, her skin clammy and damp with sweat. She rolled over in her large bed and grabbed her wand, casting a quick tempus charm. It was just a few minutes before midnight, when her birth mother was supposed to escort her to the small group of untested Death Eater recruits her father had allowed her for this mission. He had not exactly been happy to send anyone with her, but he was even less happy when Evanna suggested she could go on this mission by herself. 

“Good, you’re awake,” Bellatrix said from the door, not even bothering to knock before she opened it. 

“I would comment on the invasion of privacy, but I’ve the feeling it would not be much good,” Evanna said dryly. 

Bellatrix’s smirk was nothing short of wicked. She tossed a bundle of leather at Evanna. It was an iridescent black, hard scales almost sharp enough to cut. Evanna ran her fingers along a symbol etched into the scales--two serpents, so entwined it was impossible to tell where one ended and the next began. She recognized the symbol from the bracelet her mother--Narcissa--had given her as a first year, struggling to contain those odd powers that she had no idea existed.

“The wuivre ,” she said. “For protection.”

“It’s Hebridean Black dragonskin. It should help you blend into the dark and protect you in battle,” Bellatrix said. “The bloodlines you carry in your veins are too important to risk, Evanna. So if things go wrong, you forget the others and you get out.”

Evanna blinked. It was quite possibly the most maternal thing her birth mother had ever said to her. She studied the older woman, but her steel grey eyes revealed nothing. When Evanna tried to see behind her mother's eyes, she was met with thorns that pricked at the forefront of her mind. If her father was cold, jagged ice, then her mother was a raging inferno, but just as impossible to read. 

"Things won't go wrong. I've trained for this," Evanna said. 

Bellatrix gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Lucius may have been more of a bastard than even my husband, but no one can train for Azkaban."

Evanna filed that little tidbit away for further examination. She had known her birth mother had been married, but had yet to hear her speak of Rodolphus Lestrange. 

"We need loyal men," Evanna said simply. 

"We need a loyal heir."

Evanna chose not to reply and instead stepped behind the changing screen to don the leather armor. 

There was a double entendre behind the statement, Evanna knew. There was of course the matter at hand: her safe return from the mission to Azkaban. But there was another: just how loyal was Evanna to the cause. For a brief moment, she though of the little fish and chips cart in London. 

"Your father is lost.”

"Be sure you go to your father as soon as you return," Bellatrix said. "He has something he wishes to teach you."

Evanna still did not speak, instead catching her appearance in the mirror. The armor was skin tight--tighter than anything she had ever worn in her life. Though it did not show any skin, the still-forming curves of her body were clearly shown. She knew that cloaks and robes could be deadly in battle, but she felt almost naked without one. She was not sure whether Bellatrix had sensed her embarrassment or not as the older witch pointed her wand at Evanna's hair and it tied itself back in a tight plait. 

"It's time," her mother said. Evanna nodded and let Bellatrix lead her to where the recruits waited outside the Manor with their broomsticks. Evanna did not comment as she recognized several students who had been in the years above her, from all four Houses. At least three had graduated no earlier than this June. 

"This is your Dark Lady," Bellatrix announced. "You take orders from her as you do the Dark Lord. And should she fall and any one of you make it back alive, your life will not be long."

The recruits bowed immediately, nearly as low as she saw her father’s followers do for him. It was a heady feeling, this kind of power, one that could consume her entire self if she was not careful. 

"Where is your broomstick, my lady? Do you need mine?" one of the recruits asked,  holding out his own. Evanna's lips curled in a smirk. 

"I don't need a broomstick," was all she said before tugging on that anchor that chained her to the earth with magic and launching herself into the air, colorful smoke all around her. The recruits were watching her from the ground, open-mouthed. 

"We won't ever make it to Azkaban before daybreak if you all don't get moving," she called. 

One by one, they all rose in the air, only Bellatrix remaining on the ground. The wind whipping her hair around her face, Evanna lead the recruits assigned to her through the skies. 

The temperature dropped before the prison came into sight. 

Evanna found herself wishing she had worn a cloak over the fighting leathers as the prison looked tall over the raging northern seas. They were far north enough that the world stayed in a perpetual twilight this time of year. 

"We go in and take our men, nothing more," Evanna called over the wind to the recruits. "The dementors are on our side, or will be soon enough. It is only the Ministry workers who will trouble us."

"And we're what? Just supposed to fight off trained Aurors?" one of the younger recruits--Nealson, she thought--called out. 

“What exactly did you think becoming one of my father’s Death Eaters would involve?” Evanna said, gritting her teeth. “Knitting tea cosies at home?”

Nealson fell silent. 

Evanna did not bother to make sure that the recruits followed her as she landed on top of the darkened tower prison. She felt the recruits land behind her, but more than that, there was the cold, the all-consuming cold that seized her limbs and fogged her brain. She had known it would be bad; that year the dementors had guarded Hogwarts she had barely been able to go outside without feeling faint from her own worst memories and those of her fellow students.  

Tu vas faire comme je dit , the wind seemed to whisper all around her. Tu vas faire comme je dit. 

You're dead. I killed you , she told Lucius' voice sternly. 

She turned to gesture for the men to follow her to the rooftop access her birth mother had told her about. Their pale faces shown in the odd twilight, their eyes blown wide open. She felt more than heard their thoughts; more than one was ready to jump on their brooms and speed away. 

"I will reward and protect those who fight by my side, no matter what Bellatrix said," she told them in a low voice. "But if you run from the battle, there is little anyone can do to keep you from my father's wrath."

She met each recruit’s eyes, still feeling the despair and iciness that Azkaban caused, but in a few of them, there was the smallest flickering flame of something else. 

Loyalty. 

But not to her father. To herself. 

Evanna swallowed, feeling as though she was teetering on a tightrope, high above a sleeping dragon, who would surely awake and swallow her whole should she fall. She knew it was dangerous, to attract the loyalty of her father’s would-be followers. Yet, something of the previous night’s dream echoed in her. 

“There is nothing that can be done; his soul is too broken. You must stop his plans.”

“Keep close to me,” she said, burying the dream down, down, down. 

The first auror they encountered went down immediately with a spell Evanna fired silently. The next, however, was able to sound the alarm, calling more guards to him, wizard and dementor alike. The recruits spread out behind her, ready to fight. 

“No, I’ll handle this!” Evanna shouted. “Free our men!”

“But milady--”

“Now is not the time!” Evanna snarled as a dementor advanced on her. She whirled, sliding under the monstrous thing, cold seeping into her bones as she did so.

The boy’s face was blank, eyes wide in surprise, and completely still--

She shoved the memory away, determined not to give in the way she had as a second year. 

“I recognize you,” an auror said, eyes wide with a shock of pink hair. “Lucius Malfoy’s girl.”

Evanna’s breath hitched in her throat. She knew what her father would expect, for her to kill the auror. But she yet to fire a spell at Evanna.

“You are too young for this, cousin,” the auror said, “I cannot believe You-Know-Who would recruit a little girl.”

“He hasn’t,” Evanna said, bringing up a shield as another auror began to throw spells.

“No time to chat, Tonks,” he shouted. “Arrest them all!”

A flash of red light and Evanna thought she would not have time, when Nealson shot a spell between them. A green spell. The second auror fell almost instantly. But when he tried to fire the same spell at Tonks, Evanna found herself stepping in front of the young auror. 

“Get the prisoners and get out, Nealson!” she roared. 

“Milady, she’s recognized you!”

“GO!”

A lick of Evanna’s grey smoke that usually carried her on the wind snapped at the older boy and he ran, helping the rest to free the Death Eaters. She felt more than saw the young auror rise to confront her and she quickly sent a freezing spell at her. Ice crackled it’s way up Tonks’ body as it froze her to the floor

“I-I kn-know yo-you do-don’t wa-want t-to ki-kill m-me,” the auror said, teeth clattering together. 

“I should have done so already,” Evanna said, mind whirling as she grasped for the power that she had once wielded against her brother. “I’m sorry about this.”

Evanna forcibly ripped away all memory of her presence in the prison, forcing herself not to watch as the auror slumped to the ground in a dead faint. She ran toward the recruits, where they had begun to break open the cell doors of the Death Eaters. She recognized as one ran into the corridor. 

“Mr. Nott!” she exclaimed. 

Theo’s father looked nothing like the aristocrat she had met the night of the ball her father had put on for her. There were deep circles under his eyes, his hair matted and his cheeks thinned even in only the few weeks since the end of term. Something roiled in Evanna’s stomach; this was what the side of the light did to their enemies? And yet, her ancestor had claimed her father to have gone farther down the dark path than any in their lineage. What could be darker than using prisoners as meat offered to beings of pure darkness?

“Evanna,” he rasped. “You came. The Dark Lord sent for us.”

She smiled grimly. “Yes. Now, let’s go.”

Chapter Text

When Evanna returned triumphantly with the imprisoned Death Eaters, it was only to find that her father had gone off to the Continent once more on yet another diplomatic mission. He had not even had Bellatrix tell her; he had left Narcissa waiting in her room to inform her of the change in plans. 

“How am I supposed to be his second-in-command if he never tells me any bloody thing?” she hissed, finding the warmest sweater she could in the back of her closet, trying to warm the cold that had seeped into her bones.

“Powerful as you may be, you are not even of age yet,” her once-mother said. 

“Yes, well, he still sent me on the rescue to Azkaban to prove myself and was not even here when I returned!” she scowled.

“You know your father is an impo--”

“Yes, I bloody well know the Dark Lord is important .”

“Evanna Belinda!” Narcissa gasped. Evanna winced. She had not meant to snap at the older woman, but her usually well-controlled anger was boiling over.  

"I apologize, Mother," she said. "I just….. I don't want him to think me an incompetent failure."

Narcissa pursed her mouth. 

"I ought to know better," she muttered to herself before pulling an envelope from her robe pocket. "This came for you. At Hogwarts."

Evanna took the envelope slowly, unsure of what would possibly be coming for her at Hogwarts. She opened it and pulled out the letter. 

E,

I figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to mail this to you directly. With you missing our last date, I thought it was possible that someone was back from abroad. I was hoping, though, that you might be able to meet me for my birthday? Our usual spot. I rather like seeing you dress muggle.

Yours,

H

Evanna felt her cheeks heat a bit. She whirled toward Narcissa, clutching the bit of parchment to her chest. 

“When is Father supposed to be back?” she said, her mood and demeanor unmistakably different. Narcissa pursed her lips. 

“At least a week and a half.”

That put them into August. Evanna smiled. 

“Wonderful,” she said. 

“Evanna, please,” Narcissa said. “In some ways, you seem to have centered your father. His decisions are not so…. rash as they were in the final days of the war. But I fear he could easily slip back into that version of himself.”

Evanna frowned. “What do you mean?”

Narcissa’s eyes flickered. "Many things about the last war have been exaggerated by the other side. The gruesome ends of those who the Dark Lord suspected of treason were not."

Evanna's blood went cold. 

"I am his heir."

"That would only make things worse, I fear," Narcissa said. Evanna nearly turned away, but Narcissa gripped her wrist, cupping her face. “Your father, I believe, values you immensely. He is proud to see that his power has been passed on and that the line of Salazar Slytherin has had new life breathed into it. But that pride is very conditional, Evanna.”

“You could be underestimating his loyalty,” Evanna said, trying her best to keep her voice even.

“It is possible.”

Evanna did not have to be a mind reader to know that Narcissa did not believe what she was saying. 

That disbelief, however, did not stop Evanna from standing in front of her wardrobe, tapping her foot impatiently the morning of July 31st. It had been weeks since she had seen Harry and had to pull out her muggle outfits. Outside her bedroom window, she knew that the day would be scorching hot. Finally, she settled on a long, flowy dress with fluttery sleeves and a pretty daisy print all over. She thought she remembered one of her roommates insisting she buy the thing from a catalogue, though she had not quite thought it appropriate for the daughter of the Dark Lord. 

But you are not trying to be the Dark Lady today , she reminded herself. 

Slipping into some sandals, Evanna pointed her wand at her hair and it twisted itself into a plaited crown around her head. On a whim, she slipped a flower from the bouquet sitting on her vanity into the plait. If she was trying to not be the Dark Lady today, she may as well go all the way with it. 

The manor was strangely empty that day, without the usual nervous Death Eaters scurrying about. She supposed even her father’s followers were entitled to give into a lazy summer’s day when it was this hot out. It seemed even her birth mother was hiding from the heat. Evanna could not find a single complaint within herself for the day off she had not been informed of; it made it all the easier to slip into the Manor floo unseen.

The London street outside of the Leaky Cauldron was indeed suffocating. Evanna felt sweat begin to trickle down her back, making her dress stick to her skin. She was glad for the decision to put all her hair up on top of her head to keep herself that much cooler. 

Her heart quickened when she spotted a familiar mop of messy hair leaned against the railing of the walking bridge. He was wearing denim trousers that fit much better than what she had seen him wearing in years previous outside of his school uniform. His t-shirt was a lovely green that she just knew would bring out his eyes when he turned around, and fit just tightly enough around his broadening shoulders, accentuating the muscles created and toned by years of quidditch. 

“Officially sixteen years old and you’ve yet to master a hair comb,” Evanna said fondly, a wide grin on her face as Harry whirled, his scar stark against his tanned face. He did not have the sunken, starved look to him that she had become used to seeing when they would return to Hogwarts. But, his jaw was definitely more man than boy, and she thought she recognized the shadow of a beard coming in. 

“Sixteen years and I’ve never met a comb that could master my hair,” he said wryly, green eyes sparkling with humor. “I--I wan’t sure if you would come.”

Evanna didn’t answer. He knew that because she was here, that meant her father was still out of the country. That it was a grand stroke of luck that she had been able to come here at all. Instead, she decided not to waste any time and stepped forward to kiss him boldly, shaking off the voice that said it was dangerous or improper. 

They were just two normal teeagers, falling in love. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t--” she started to say when they pulled away from each other.

“Don’t be--I was just--worried,” he admitted haltingly. 

Evanna’s heart stuttered at just how heartfelt that statement was. She took Harry’s hand and squeezed it gently. 

“Well,” she said. “It’s your birthday, no time for worrying now. What would you like to do?”

Despite her words, Evanna was very worried by the mischievous glint in Harry’s eye as he said, “There’s something I always wanted to try.”

Against her better judgement, Evanna soon found herself lacing her feet into awful wheeled contraptions that would likely soon prove why she nor Harry had not been Sorted into Ravenclaw. Behind her, muggles were rolling around in the odd shoes on hardwood floors, music (if it could be called that) blasting from some hidden band.

“Remind me again why we are doing this?” Evanna said as a she watched a muggle girl fall and land hard on her rump, her friend laughing until he, too, became suddenly introduced to the floor. 

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” Harry replied, eyes sparkling as he stood, rolling easily on the wheels. He pulled her to her feet and she wobbled, a swooping in her stomach as she tried to regain her balance, gripping onto Harry’s green shirt tightly. If she went down, he was going with her, she determined. 

Harry seemed to read that thought on her face and just smirked at her. 

“You said it was my birthday, so we could do whatever I wanted,” he reminded her teasingly. 

“Just--don’t let me look like an idiot.”

“Never,” he said, pecking her cheek gently before spinning her away from him. 

“Potter!” she yelled. 

They ended up having a good time, even if Evanna felt sure that her rump would never be the same again. She had made sure that Harry also found himself on the ground when she did, despite the Gryffindor being obnoxiously good at the activity on his very first try. They skated for two hours, until their rentals on the shoes were up and both of them were breathless and red-faced. 

“I’m famished,” Harry admitted as he finished tying his trainers. “What would you say to some fish and chips?”

“Only if I get all of your chips in payment for never being able to walk right again,” Evanna grumbled. Harry laughed and took her hand, swinging it merrily as they made their way to the walking bridge where he had taken her the last time. He did indeed order extra chips.

“Just for you,” he said, popping one into her mouth. Had she not had food, she likely would have stuck her tongue out at him. It was still unbearably hot outside, her behind still ached, but Harry was there smiling at her, with such joy in his eyes. Nothing could have ruined their wonderful afternoon in that moment. 

But then something did. 

Evanna was not sure exactly when she felt it, but it was like a sort of dark ringing in her ears, the hair on her neck standing straight up. 

Magic .

Harry seemed to sense it a moment later, his eyes flying wide. He dropped the food he had just purchased and tackled her to the side of the walking bridge as that dark ringing became a high-pitched whine and then a deafening boom. 

Harry was laying overtop of her, crushing her into the bushes. The ringing in her ears had become all that she could hear, nothing else making its way through. 

Harry wasn’t moving. Harry wasn’t moving . 

Evanna rolled from under him, pushing him onto his back. She dared not look to the bridge behind her, half in the river below with muggles still screaming and running, smoke billowing, dark smudges flying around. Harry’s eye were not open, his glasses cracked, and his hair was sticky with blood.

Harry. Harry!

She could not even hear herself calling his name as she shook him. She pulled off his glasses and held them under his nose. They fogged. He was alive. She almost sagged in relief at the realization.

But there were Death Eaters swarming the bridge, Death Eaters who would likely be all to happy to whisk them both away to her father.

Evanna glanced around at the chaos around her and made a quick decision. She maneuvered herself behind Harry, before hooking her arms under his and hefting with all her might. 

I’m sorry Harry, she muttered, or at least thought to herself as she barely managed to heft her boyfriend across the grassy slope and behind an overturned food cart. The cart they had just bought food from. She refused to wonder where the owner of the cart was as she hid herself and Harry behind it, praying to whatever gods might exist that they would not be discovered. 

Chapter Text

Though Sirius was loathe to allow his godson out of his sight for even one minute on his birthday--they had missed far too many birthdays and had much too much time to make up--he was grateful to not have to make up an excuse to keep Harry from finding out about the surprise party. He had been antsy as Harry seemed to take more time in the bathroom getting ready than even James had once done, primping and preening to achieve the perfect 'just off the quidditch field' look that the rest of the Marauders had teased him relentlessly for. Sirius did his best not to comment on the ungodly amount of cologne that came off the boy, though Harry had reddened and muttered something about a lid being stuck. Instead, as soon as the boy was out of the house, he had floors Molly Weasley and Moony to join him in decorating the house. 

It had been hours of arguing over menus and what streamers to go where and ‘ just how many people are you inviting Sirius? ’ that had the ex-convict almost wishing for Azkaban again. Why he had thought it was a good idea to bring together Molly Weasley and Remus Lupin to decorate, he did not know. The decision had not even involved alcohol. 

“No, I am setting the cake here; it is best to put the banner over…”

“... I have planned many surprise parties in my day, Molly…”

“A boy’s sixteenth birthday party is not the same as James Potter’s stag party, Remus Lupin!”

“I am hardly--”

Just when he was debating procuring some stiff drink, a silvery lynx bounded into the parlor where his mother had once entertained the upper echelons of pureblood society. Molly and Remus paused their bickering to turn to the Patronus.

“There has been an attack in muggle London,” Kingsley Shacklebolt’s deep voice came from the lynx. “Millennium Bridge. We are requesting help immediately.”

Ice. Sirius’ limbs had turned to ice. 

“Where did you say Harry likes to...?” Remus started, but Sirius was already marching to the door. Moony cursed colorfully and Molly did not even scold him as they followed Sirius to the edges of the anti-apparition wards, all three disapparating immediately to the site of the attack. 

Chaos. Utter chaos. For a moment, it was the seventies again and Sirius was praying he wouldn’t have to fight his little brother and that James wouldn’t bleed out before they got him to the Healer. But no, it was nearly twenty years later and it was James’ son, not James in danger. 

Sirens were going off everywhere and already muggle reporters were rushing to the scene, impossibly large cameras taking in the destruction. Dust and smoke curling together were making it hard to breathe. The bridge was in shambles, half laying in the water with blood and bodies swirling about even as some brave souls were jumping in the river to pull victims to safety. Sirius recognized the stench of Dark magic in the air, but a cursory glance told him that the Death Eaters had struck and immediately disappeared. 

“Send a Patronus if you find him,” Remus said, but Sirius barely heard him as he rushed into the crowds of screaming people. Merlin, but it was worse than the last war. He had been dogged then by thoughts of his brother and who might be the traitor, but he had also been alive, high on the sensation of fighting his family’s bigoted beliefs. But now, he had Harry. There were no more delusions of honorable battle and tales of glory; that had been stolen from him Halloween night, 1981. 

“Help! Help me!” a woman was screaming, trying to move a large piece of cement off her leg. Sirius nearly passed her by, but knew that his godson would expect better of him. After all, Harry had saved Wormtail’s life, sorry as the rat’s life was; he would want Sirius to help the woman. 

He didn’t even bother with the Statute of Secrecy; the Obliviators would be coming through soon enough. He simply pointed his wand and moved the piece of concrete. The woman gaped. 

“You--you--you’re like them, the black smoke and--”

“I’m here to stop them,” Sirius said calmly as he could. Then, a thought occurred to him. “Listen, have you seen a boy--a teen about this high with messy black hair, green eyes, and a scarred forehead?”

The woman was shaking, still gaping at him. Sirius sighed, knowing when a person was too far in shock to answer any questions. 

“Someone will be along to help you to the hospital soon,” he assured her before darting further into the crowd. 

It was like that with a few more muggles--he would help them, ask them about Harry, but none could remember seeing the boy with messy black hair. It kept on like this until a silvery wolf bounded in front of Sirius, causing several muggles to scream in alarm. 

“I have them at my cottage. He’s hurt, but will live.”

Sirius did not take time to reflect on the odd phrasing before leaping into action, twisting on his heel and disapparating immediately to the rundown cottage that Remus had rented for the past few years. He did not even think of why his friend had decided to take Harry there instead of Grimmauld Place in his rush to get to his godson. 

Without even knocking, Sirius burst into the cottage, knees weakening when he spotted Harry sitting upright on the couch, a little bruised and worse for the wear, but alive and relatively healthy. 

“Sirius!” the boy said. Sirius rushed to him, grasping him tightly as his heart pounded in his chest. 

“Merlin, Harry, I was so worried, I--”

Sirius cut himself off when he realized there was a fourth person in the room. Seeing her was sent him flying further into the past, to a time where his family had the illusion of happy Christmases.

“Cissy, Andy, grab the boys and come on! It’s finally warm enough to play quidditch!”

“I don’t want to play.”

“You can ref, Cissy. Looks like it’s boys vs girls again, Bella!”

“She needs help, Sirius, as I was saying to Remus--”

Evanna Malfoy was in the cottage with them. 

Evanna POV 

When a hand grasped her, she all but had the Killing Curse on her lips as she turned to see her old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Remus Lupin staring at her. His mouth was moving, assumedly telling her to let Harry go, but she could not be sure. 

I won’t. I won’t let him go. I can’t hear you. I won’t let him go. 

Her message seemed to be delivered, for he frowned and grabbed hold of both of them. Evanna had the sudden sensation of being pressed through a tube, twisting through time and space before landing hard on the floor of a shabby cottage. Her heart raced; she had not wanted to let go of Harry, but to be Apparated to Merlin knew whereby the pet wolf of her father's most dangerous enemy? If she survived this…. 

There was a flash of light that let Evanna know that he had down diagnostic spells on both Harry and herself before sending a large, furry Patronus--presumably to Harry's godfather. The former professor pointed first to his ears and then to her, before shaking his head before turning to bring Harry back to consciousness. 

Her boyfriend blinked, his eyes foggy, and Evanna let out a little half sob to see him okay and awake and not dead, launching herself on him. He grabbed onto her tightly, a vibration through his chest indicating that he was asking questions she could not make out. The werewolf must not want her knowing anything just yet, not until he knew what had happened. Evanna could not quite blame him. She likely would have done the same. But now that she knew Harry was well, the pain had returned with force. 

Harry pulled away from her after a moment, an angry look on his face as he argued with the former professor, likely demanding that he heal her. Evanna grabbed hold of his hand, squeezing it to try and encourage him to calm down, but it only seemed to make him angrier. 

Harry had stood to yell, as Remus tried to convince him to sit back down when a dark-haired man burst into the cottage. He immediately wrapped Harry in a bear hug, clasping his face as checked that Harry was alright. Then, Sirius Black turned to her. 

There was another brief exchange between the three men and Black sighed heavily before saying something that had Lupin going somewhat purple

"Yes, I can hear you, Mr Black," she said in her most respectful voice. "Where are we?"

"My cottage," Lupin said quickly. That gave Evanna very little information, as they had Apparated and could therefore be anywhere.  in the face before Black walked to her and gestured for her to sit. She did so somewhat nervously, but Harry gave her a reassuring smile. 

Sirius has field healer training, from his days with the Aurors. He says he can heal your ears. 

The thought was pushed toward her from Harry. He stepped forward and grabbed her hand, Black seeming to mutter a prayer behind him. Evanna squeezed Harry’s hand tight as the former convict pointed his wand at her, doing complicated motions and muttering incantations. It was as if someone was pulling cotton balls out of her ears slowly.

“....you hear me?”

Black was looking at Evanna expectantly

“Yes, I can hear you now,” she said softly, surprised at how hoarse she was. “So, what are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing,” Harry said immediately. 

“Harry, we must tell Headmaster Dumbledore--he will know what is best to--”

“He hates Evanna,” Harry said. “He always has. He’ll turn her into some sort of hostage!”

“Harry, you know that Dumbledore would never hurt a child--”

Evanna was squeezing Harry’s hand so hard that he winced. “Harry, I--”

Harry squeezed her hand back. “Sirius, please. Just let her go home.”

The former convict was looking between the two with a strange expression on his face. 

“You look much more like your aunt than Narcissa, you know,” he said pensively. Evanna’s chest tightened. 

“Please, Mr. Black,” she said softly. “We are family. Don’t hand me over to Dumbledore.”

“Since when do you not trust Dumbledore, Harry?” he said. 

“Since he told me you were dead,” her boyfriend said without emotion. Black frowned. “I’m beginning to think Dumbledore has his own agenda, and I don’t think it’s any good for me.”

Evanna could have cheered, but Lupin stood, running his hands through his thinning hair. 

“This is madness, Harry,” he said. “She is the daughter of one of Voldemort’s most loyal followers--who she killed last Yule. In cold blood.”

“It was not,” Evanna said, glaring at her former professor. 

“Pardon?” Even when accusing her of murder, the ragged professor was still painfully polite. 

“It was not in cold blood,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even. “Lucius very much deserved to die.”

Black blinked slowly. “You know, Remus, she has a point.”

Evanna thought that maybe, just maybe, her cousin was not half bad. 

“Are you safe at Malfoy Manor now?” Black said. “We could get you out. I have the resources, even without Dumbledore. Obviously, your loyalties can’t be with Voldemort.”

He looked pointedly between her and Harry. She could not turn to look at Harry, to see the desperation in his eyes. But, she knew her father. Without her, he would tear the world apart. But, maybe, just maybe, with her, he would have some hope of retuning to the vision he had once had where magical children would not suffer. 

“I think…” she murmured. “I think it best we not do this again, Harry.”

“Ev,” he started. But she shook her head. 

"This summer has been wonderful, Harry. But I knew nothing about today's attack and I can't help but think it wasn't a coincidence."

Evanna ignored the flash of suspicioun that came from Lupin. 

"Then maybe you should stay with us," Harry said hopefully, looking up at Sirius. "Dumbledore wouldn't have to know."

Evanna wanted nothing more than to hold him, both loving and hating the hope and naivete in his voice. 

"Why would you know about the attack, Ms Malfoy?" Lupin said suspiciously. Evanna felt Harry tense, but she squeezed his hand, turning a cool gaze on Lupin. 

"Surely your people know where the Dark Lord has based his operations," she said. "Now, if you could point me in the direction of your wards, I can summon the Knight Bus--"

"We can't allow a child to go back to the Dark Lord's lair, especially one who is… close to Harry," Black said. 

"The Dark Lord doesn't know that," Evanna said quickly. 

"The Dark Lord is the greatest Legilimens of our time," Lupin snapped. "You cannot be sure of that, just as you cannot expect to be informed of anything as the child of one of his dead followers."

"Evanna is powerful herself--"

Evanna stepped on her boyfriend's foot, hard. Luckily, the adults did not seem to notice. 

“Please,” she said, doing her best to appear as pitiful as possible. “Let me go home.”

Why don’t you take his offer? Harry was all but screaming in his mind. Evanna did not know how to explain. 

I’ll see you at school. She projected the thought into his mind, sidestepping the question.

“Do you believe you are in danger?” Black said, studying Evanna with an unsettling focus. 

“No more than Harry is,” she said truthfully. Black’s lips quirked wryly. 

“You can’t be considering this, Sirius,” Lupin said, shaking his head. 

“Did anything you or James said to me convince me to leave my family until I was ready?" Black said. "I don't think that holding a child captive is a precedent we want to set in this war. So if she wants to go home, then she is free to do so."

Evanna nearly released a sigh of relief. The last thing she would want to do was fight these two men who clearly meant so much to Harry. 

You'll probably have to do that soon anyway, a small voice in her head told her. She chose to ignore it. 

"Thank you," she said. Black nodded. 

"If you're ready, I'll Apparate you to the Leaky."

"A couple blocks away, please," she said. 

"Ev, are you sure?" Harry said plaintively. 

"Harry, I thought you were dead not an hour ago," she said desperately. "If I don't leave now…" She trailed off, doing her best to ignore the way Black and Lupin were staring at her. "We'll see each other at school, okay?"

The adults had turned away to whisper a conversation in the tiny entryway, giving them a moment of privacy. Harry's grip tightened on her, and he pressed a quick kiss to her lips. 

“Please, just stay, Ev,” he pleaded. “I know you don’t believe all the pureblood shite, I know you don’t believe in killing people.”

Evanna sucked in a deep breath. “There are things I need to do there. I could have… I could have prevented this.”

“But you didn’t know about it,” he said, squeezing her fingers. She did not. 

And that scared her. 

“Evanna, it’s best you leave sooner rather than later if you’re leaving.”

Black had a carefully blank look on his face, one that Evanna recognized as a face many of the upper echelon of wizarding society wore when hiding their true motives and feelings. Evanna looked back at Harry, who wore every emotion on his face. Evanna’s heart cracked, thinking of just how long it would be before she could see this boy again and how they would have to act around each other to make it through the school year under the eye of Dumbledore and the children of her father’s followers. 

She brushed a hand over Harry’s cheek before standing, brushing her now stained dress carefully. 

“I’ll see you at school, Harry,” she said again, softly. 

Black escorted her out of the cottage, but before they reached the ward boundary, he stopped, placing a hand on her arm to stop her as well. 

“Harry has had enough pain in his life,” he said in a low, dark voice. “I will be there at Hogwarts this year to ensure that he does not have any more.”

I don’t care that she’s a child, she will not take Harry from me. 

“Mr Black, I would never hurt Harry,” she said, meaning every word with her whole heart.

Chapter Text

    A little girl screaming, men in shining armor dragging her to the stake. 

    A father mourning, head bowing over a pile of ash.

    A mother fading, too much blood after the baby.

    A daughter hiding, killing the man who had seen her eyes before he could move.

    A brother raging, the world his to burn for the pain it had put on his family.

Evanna locked herself into her bedroom when she returned from spending the day with Harry. When she slept, her dreams were wild, confusing. She paced most of the night, thoughts racing. Her father had left the country, had left her in charge, and yet she had not known there would be an attack. Had it been at random? Some Death Eaters blowing off steam? Or was something more sinister at foot? 

Answers came by way of the owl post the next morning. The Daily Prophet reported the entire bridge had collapsed. Over two hundred muggles dead or injured. But the most telling was the picture on the front. 

Bellatrix, shooting a Dark Mark triumphantly into the sky. 

This had been no random Death Eater attack after one too many at the Leaky Cauldron. No, this had been planned by the Dark Lord's lieutenant. Except, she was not that any more. Evanna was the one now at her father's right hand; she was the one who was supposed to speak with his voice when he was away. But her birth mother had undermined her. 

Icy rage poured through Evanna's veins as she watched Bellatrix point her wand in the sky and shout the spell to shoot the Dark Mark into the air over and over. Without consciously doing it, Evanna's hands crumpled the sides of the newspaper before it simply disintegrated into ash. 

She quickly dressed herself, choosing some pure black robes that Professor Snape had spelled with protective shields of all sorts. Carefully, she strapped her wand holster to her wrist before yanking the door open. She stormed down the stairs, her robes billowing behind her like storm clouds. 

Bellatrix was eating breakfast in the formal dining room, sitting across from the head of the table. Evanna’s anger ratcheted up another notch. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” she demanded. 

Her birth mother carefully finished the scone she had been working on, carefully licking a smidge of jam off her finger. Evanna pursed her lips, tracking every movement. 

“Dumbledore was officially reinstated as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. We could not sit by and do nothing,” Bellatrix said. 

“So you attack the muggles?” Evanna demanded. “When we are trying to convince the magical world at large that it is time to come out of hiding--you’re giving them reason to still hate us!”

“The filth can no longer even fathom magic as being real--”

“And that is excuse to murder innocent children on the street?”

“Careful, daughter,” Bellatrix said, a cruel light in her eyes. “You sound as though you are concerned for the vermin beneath our feet. I would hate to think that your time spent with that boy has corrupted you.”

Barely a thought, and Evanna was inside her birth mother’s mind. Though Bellatrix did not know it, Evanna turned over every memory from the past months since the woman’s escape from Azkaban, determining quickly that what Bellatrix knew only came from the rumors that had always surrounded Harry and herself, things that her father was already aware of. Still, she could not stop there; barely registering that she had done it, Evanna had Bellatrix kneeling before her. 

“I am the Dark Lord’s heir, not you,” she hissed. “I don’t care that you birthed me; I have the blood of Slytherin. I have the Gift of Violet Eyes. I rule when he is gone. Not you .”

“I have been around longer and proven my loyalty many times--”

“Then why sneak around my back when he placed me in charge, Mother ?” Evanna demanded, all but spitting out the title. “The Dark Lord and I wish to see a return of Camelot. Wizards and witches able to live as they were meant to do; using their gifts without fear.”

“You are a naive little girl, seeing the world through rose-colored glasses,” Bellatrix snarled. “There was never Camelot with wizards and filth skipping through fields of daisies. We will only rule when the muggles properly fear us.”

“They will start the witch hunts all over again!” Evanna hissed, Bellatrix’s mind still firmly in her grasp. She saw the long fingers of dementors, still here even months later, infecting the woman’s mind with madness. But, there were older memories too. A sister running away. A boy taking what he wanted, then leaving in fear. Her parents stern disapproval and harsh punishment. And finally a tall, dark-haired handsome man, promising her vengeance and a return to the glory she had once known. 

Suddenly, Evanna found herself ripped across the room, pinned to a wall. For a moment, she was back in the training room with Lucius, the man refusing to release her from his magic’s grip until she could do it herself. Then she was back in the dining room, staring up at the Dark Lord with a face like thunder. 

She's almost too powerful. 

"What," he hissed in a low voice, "is going on?"

It took Evanna a moment to regain her voice, but in that moment Bellatrix had already spoken.

"Milord, she does not wish for muggles to be hurt. She would prefer us all continue living as cockroaches, hiding when our rightful place--"

"I never said that!" Evanna interrupted. "Father, you left me in change and she ran off to an unprovoked attack in muggle London that could undermine everything we are trying to do!"

The look on his face was unreadable. He seemed to look both Evanna and Bellatrix up and down several times, studying them each. Finally, he held a hand open to her, lifted her from the ground. 

“Leave us, Bella,” he said. “I would have a word with my heir.”

“Master--”

“ Leave .”

The look on the Dark Lord’s face must have been terrible indeed for Bellatrix did not argue again and instead all but fled the room. Evanna fought to focus her mind away from the fear and anger of the day before as he studied her intently. When he finally turned away, Evanna felt her knees go wobbly at the sudden lack of the weight of that stare. 

He turned again when he reached the head of the table. He gestured at the seat to the right of him. She slowly took a seat next to him. Silently, he reached for the pot of tea, pouring first himself a cup and then her. As she knew to be his habit, he then dropped no less than four cubes of sugar into his cup.

“What, did I once tell you, is the purpose of having an heir?” he said softly as he spread marmalade onto a scone. 

The memory was at the forefront of her father’s mind, so the answer he was looking for was easy to grasp.

“To secure your power, Father,” she said. 

His mouth quirked. “You cheat, daughter,” he said.

“I use all resources given to me. I would think you would appreciate that,” she said lightly, falling back into the role she had played last summer--not rebellious, simply spirited enough to entertain. 

“That being said, it is time you do more than undermine my followers’ less than savory pastimes,” he said. “It is time that you secure my power. Who, child, is our most dangerous enemy in this war?”

Green eyes flashed in her mind and her heart somewhere in her throat. A memory floated towards her, of Professor Snape telling her that the Dark Lord could have her lure Harry to his death and--

“Harry Potter?” she murmured, hoping against hope that she was wrong. 

Her father snorted. “The whelp is a useful symbol. But, he will be of no concern once his puppeteer is dead.”

Evanna felt her mouth go dry. 

“Albus Dumbledore. You want me to assassinate the headmaster.”

“I had hoped it would not come to this,” her father leaned back in his chair. “But, you must prove yourself and your loyalty to my followers. And, we need rid of the meddlesome old fool for good.”

Suicide mission. This was a suicide mission. She was not yet quite fifteen--still three years before she would even be of age. Albus Dumbledore...  Albus Dumbledore was over a century old and the most powerful Light Wizard in more than a generation. Evanna would one day be his equal, if not more powerful, but she was a child in comparison to him--an infant. 

"How-when do you expect me to do this?" she said, her voice coming out a little hoarse, as her mind was going a million miles a minute. "I have OWLs this year."

The Dark Lord actually started laughing at that. "Though I appreciate your devotion to academics, Evanna, you can pursue all the scholarly wisdom you desire after we win the war. Once you do this to secure my power, I will teach you how to secure yours."

There were odd thoughts floating at the forefront of her father's mind. A dark cave with an underwater lake. A vault in Gringotts. A room full of forgotten objects. 

"How?" Evanna asked. 

"Did you not ever wonder how it was that was able to escape death?" he said. "My body was blasted to dust that Halloween at the Potters, but I found methods to safeguard my essence. You will learn to do the same, that the Slytherin dynasty will rule for a thousand years."

Something about the gleam in her father's eye terrified Evanna more than even Lucius ever had. It was madness, pure madness. 

"But," her father added, seeming to come back to earth for but a moment. "You must first rid us of Albus Dumbledore."

"Father, how--"

"Or do you have some loyalty to him?" her father said. "I told you, Harry Potter is a pawn. A useful symbol, yes, but a pawn. You wish to take…. A more subtle approach to this war, yes?"

"I believe it best to show the world we are the reasonable side, yes," she said carefully. 

"That cannot be done while the old man lives. Perhaps with him gone…. Potter would be just as effective for our cause should you bring him to our side, yes?"

Evanna could not help but picture it for a moment. Harry, who had known the cruelties of muggles better than she, standing beside her and her father to welcome a new age. Not a war, but a revolution, where powerful children would not be left to be abused by those too weak to see that power as a blessing. 

"He has been manipulated by Albus Dumbledore for a long time," Evanna finally said, shaking herself out of such fantasies. 

"Nearly as long as he's been infatuated with you," her father said. 

"That would still require killing Albus Dumbledore," Evanna replied, a little hysterical. "I have three years before I come of age, Father! And has had over a century of practice!"

"Did you think my heir would sit idly by, going to balls and weeping over muggle whelps until she came of age?" Voldemort hissed, a cold light in his eyes. "I would suggest, daughter, that you focus less on schoolgirl matters and find a way to end Albus Dumbledore belt the end of the school year, or else do not come back."

"Father!" she cried, chasing him as he swept from the room. "Please! If I have done something to displease you--"

Lord Voldemort whirled on her, brandishing his wand, fire in his eyes. Fear gripped her as she dropped to her knees, images of Lucius filling her mind. She put her face to the ground, hands protecting the back of her head. 

"I am sorry. I will do as you say. I am sorry. I am sorry.*

She had not realized she was crying until she felt her face being lifted up. Her father was still angry, but somehow it had shifted. It was once again her father behind those eyes, not Lord Voldemort. 

"Lucius did not suffer enough," he hissed. "He nearly destroyed my legacy. But you will set it right, Evanna."

Evanna found herself shaking as Voldemort wiped a single tear away. 

"I do not expect you to do this task completely on your own, Evanna," he said softly. "In fact, I would most like for my Death Eaters to see your utter loyalty to me when you end Dumbledore."

"I--thank you, Father," she said softly. 

"Go, clean yourself up," he said. "Then come to the training grounds. It would not do for you to be wholly unprepared." 

Evanna nodded as her father stood her up. Right before she entered her room, she saw her birth mother watching her in the hallway. 

"I did warn you," was all Bellatrix said before turning and leaving. Evanna said nothing as she closed her door behind her and locked it wandlessly. 

She had to find a way to kill Albus Dumbledore. 

Chapter Text

    “Caelum!” the girl cried, racing into her lover’s arms. He was stiff when she embraced him, arms barely coming up to hold her. 

"Caelum, what's wrong?" she demanded. 

"You've tricked me," he said in a low voice. 

She frowned. "Caelum--"

"I was supposed to die! I should not be living if it weren't for your infernal dealings with the devil!"

She grabbed his hand, face etched with hurt. "Caelum, I saved your life. I--"

"Keep your hands off me l, witch!" he all but shouted, throwing her away from him. She would have fallen, if not for a burly man behind her catching her roughly. Suddenly, the trees around them were full of people holding pitchforks and torches. 

"Witch! Burn the witch!" the crowd was shouting. The girl was sobbing as the townsfolk tied her to a stake, stacking dry tree limbs and debris around her. 

"Caelum, Caelum, please," she sobbed. "You said you would love me no matter what. Please, don't do this! Don't let them do this! Please--ple--"

Her sobbed pleas became screams on the wind as the flames began to engulf her. A tall man stood next to Evanna. 

"I didn't know that she had continued her relationship with that wretched boy," he said in a growl. Evanna turned her gaze upon Salazar Slytherin. 

"What did you do to him?" she asked. 

When she looked, it was in his eyes. The muggle, naked and bound on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, poison slowly dripping onto his head, running down his face and into his eyes as he died screaming and sobbing, just as Morgan's had. 

"He deserved it," she said viciously. 

"But not everyone I or my son's hurt in our quest for vengeance did," Salazar said. "And not everyone he sets you to kill will deserve death either."

Evanna was surprised to find both her father and her birth mother sitting at the dining room table the next morning for breakfast. She took her seat somewhat nervously on her father’s right hand side. 

“Good morning, Father, Mother,” she said, bowing her head towards her father, barely even giving her mother a nod. 

“Your letter from Hogwarts arrived,” her father snapped his fingers and a House-elf appeared, handing Evanna said letter. It was heavier than it had been most years. “It seems as though you may have earned Prefect. I did as well when I was your age.”

There was an odd sort of pride in his voice. For a moment, Evanna imagined what it might have been to grow up in a more normal family, with her mother and father present from day one, celebrating her successes at Hogwarts, disapproving of boyfriends, telling her to keep her grades up and out of trouble. It was a lovely picture, where she could easily perform the lighter magicks and Harry would come over for dinner to nervously meet her parents and…

“That should make it easier to complete your task,” Bellatrix said. Complete her task. Assassinate Albus Dumbledore. 

Just like that, the illusion was shattered. 

"My time as prefect also allowed me influence over the younger years," her father said. "See that you foster those connections as well. The students of Hogwarts are the foundation which we will build our new world upon."

Evanna took a sip of pumpkin juice to moisten her dry mouth. "Of course, Father," she said, looking through her mail. There was a letter from Bridget that she opened. 

Dear Evanna,

I have been made Prefect for Hufflepuff this term. I assume you are the Prefect for Slytherin. My parents have offered to take us both to Diagon for new school supplies and a nice dinner for celebration--please say you can come! We'll be going this Saturday. 

Your friend,

Bridget Travers

"Bridget will be my counterpart in Hufflepuff," Evanna said, putting the letter on the table. "She says her parents would like to take us for dinner in Diagon as a celebration for our achievements."

Bellatrix snorted. "Just like a Travers to suck up--"

"Please, Father," Evanna said. "Bridget is a good frie--ally. She helps me stay aware of what the other Houses know and believe about us."

There was a moment of silence, before Evanna began again. “Besides, I want to visit Borgin and Burke’s. See if there is anything that may aid me or your Death Eaters in…. My task this year.”

Her father studied her carefully. "Very well," he finally said. "But you will be accompanied on the train by the children of my closest followers to keep you safe."

Evanna bit back any protests. This was as good as she would get. "Of course, Father. Thank you."

Harry POV 

Though Harry was grateful to Sirius for having planned his very first surprise party, the event itself was overshadowed by the attack on the muggle bridge and just who exactly Remus had found Harry hiding with in the aftermath. Throughout the party, more reports had come through of exactly how many muggles had been killed, what Death Eaters had been present, the cost of the damage exacted on muggle London, the international magical community’s response to the breach in the Statute of Secrecy. All in all, what Harry had once thought would be his best birthday ever was one of the gloomiest. 

He spent most of the week dodging questions about the incident, but he knew he wouldn't be able to forever.  His luck ran out on Wednesday, shortly after receiving an invitation to the opening of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. He had been trying to complete his Transfiguration homework when Sirius bounded into the room in Padfoot form, jumping into the bed and transforming in one smooth movement. 

"What are you doing?" Sirius said. 

"Homework for McGonagall," Harry told him, a bit confused at why his godfather was lounging across the bed like he was a model on the cover of a magazine. 

His godfather glanced over Harry's assignment list. "I see ole Minnie still doesn't understand the concept of summer hols."

"I'm just glad I don't have to try and cram all of it on the train anymore," Harry quipped. Sirius's eyes darkened at that and Harry quickly distracted him. “Did you come in here for a reason, or--”

“Remus reminded me that we haven’t spoken about the attack on your birthday,” Sirius said. “Or who you were with.”

“You already knew that Ev and I are friends.”

“I think you two are--how the youths put it--more than friends.”

Harry’s face burned red. “Maybe.”

“And you know it is incredibly dangerous right now? That the Order knows she is living in Voldemort’s headquarters and he seems to have taken an  interest in training her as his protegee?”

Harry knew quite a bit more than that, but he wasn’t about to say as much to Sirius. “Yeah, I know. I was the one who saw her kill Lu--her dad.”

Sirius’ mouth pursed in a thin line. Obviously, he could have done without that reminder. 

“I won’t tell you what you already know,” he said. “I won’t even warn you away from her, because I know that you are enough like me and your father that the rebel in you would be drawn that much more to her. I don’t even know what to tell you, honestly. Everything I try to come up with just sounds…. Old.”

Sirius said the word ‘old’ as if it were something terrible to be. Harry had to smother a laugh at his godfather’s expression.

“If it helps, I promise not to do anything you wouldn’t do,” Harry said with a smirk. Sirius groaned. 

On the same day, Harry received his Hogwarts letter, OWLs results, and an invitation to join the Weasleys in Diagon Alley for the grand opening of Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. Though Remus had been proud of Harry’s seven OWLs, Sirius had made all the breakfast dishes dance in celebration for Harry being named Gryffindor’s Quidditch Captain and had even insisted on purchasing Harry the brand new Thunderbolt, which had been rumored to be able to break the sound barrier. 

“My Firebolt is really fine, Sirius--”

“Fine for the youngest Seeker in a century, of course,” Sirius said with a grin, “but not for Gryffindor’s captain!”

“Don’t try to stop him, Harry,” Remus had said. “One of Padfoot’s favorite pastimes is spending his family’s money on ridiculous extravagant things that his mother would have hated.”

So, that weekend, Harry met up with the Weasleys and Hermione at the Leaky Cauldron with Sirius. The Leaky Cauldron had much fewer people in it than last time Harry had been there. In fact, there was hardly anyone present in the old tavern. 

“It’s like last time,” Sirius told him softly. “People are scared to leave their houses.”

Indeed, Mrs. Weasley looked on the cusp of nervous breakdown as she stood toward the back of the tavern with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. Hermione immediately ran up to Harry and threw her arms around him, having not been able to come to his birthday party. 

“I heard you were at the bridge--it was just awful, Harry! I’m so glad you’re okay!” she babbled in his ear. 

“Let the man breathe, Mione,” Ron said, clapping Harry on the back in the way all Gryffindor boys seemed to greet each other. “Ready to see the twins, mate?”

“Yeah, I--”

“I’m still not sure we should be endorsing a prank shop as prefects, Ronald--”

“Oh, come off it, Hermione,” Ginny said, also giving Harry a brief hug. She was wearing some sort of amulet around her neck that he did not recognize but looked foreign and seemed to have an aura of some kind. “Good to see you, Harry.”

“Come on, come on, I want to get home well before dark,” Mrs. Weasley said, bustling the children out and into the alley. When they arrived at the twins’ shop, Mrs. Weasley nearly had a conniption at the sign out front advertising ‘You-No-Poo’, while Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Sirius all laughed hysterically. Even Hermione was fighting to keep a straight face. 

The inside of the shop was complete chaos, just like the twins. Harry grinned, sure that there was no better way to have spent his Triwizard winnings. He had found his way to the ‘Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder’ when he brushed against someone. His eyes widened as he recognized his girlfriend. 

She seemed very tired, her hair pulled into a tight ponytail and wearing some light grey robes that seemed to shimmer in the light. It took a moment, but she curled her lip into a sneer, eyes shifting around them. 

We're being watched, Harry , Evanna's voice, just as tired as he suspected, sounded in his head. 

"Will you ever learn to watch where you're walking, Potter?" she said in a disdainful drawl that Harry found strangely attractive. He had to clamp down on a smirk. 

"Suppose I'm doomed to keep on knocking into you, Malfoy," he said, only just keeping a grin off his face. 

Evanna's lips twitched a little. She had opened her mouth to say something that would likely be devastatingly snide and attractive, when another voice came. 

"You're really shopping here, Malfoy?" Ginny said, coming up behind Harry. "It's not too Gryffindor for you to be seen here?"

Harry was a bit surprised at the venom in Ginny's voice and positioned himself subtly between the girls. Evanna evidently did not think it that subtle because she threw a look at him. He didn't move though, as Evanna turned back to Ginny, face hardening though Harry could see the sadness in her eyes. 

"Ginny, how has your summer--"

"Don't do that," Ginny snapped. "Don't act like you're my friend when you're a coward who would see me and mine dead."

Evanna visibly flinched at the accusation. 

"You're out-of--"

"Don't, Potter," Evanna said, a brittle edge to her voice. "Let Weasley say her piece. I'm sure she's been practicing all summer."

That statement seemed to anger Ginny even more, as her face took on the purple-y color that Harry recognized in Ron when he was in a temper. 

"You just think you're so much better than the rest of us, don't you?" Ginny sneered. 

It was then that Bridget Travers joined them, her face hard as stone. 

"I thought we had solved this at the end of term, Gin," Travers said, standing nearly as close to Evanna as Harry wished he could. "You know things are different for us."

"Obviously, why else would you be wearing long sleeves during the summer?" Ginny said. "And that's just the problem, isn't it?"

Travers face went blotchy while the color drained from Evanna's. 

"C'mon, Ev," Bridget said. "My parents are waiting."

Harry wanted nothing more than to reach out to his girlfriend, pull her into a kiss, and assure her that Ginny was wrong about her, that he knew she had come to the Ministry because she was a good person who wanted to protect her friends, even from her father. But he couldn't. So instead he just whirled on his friend's little sister. 

"Was that really necessary?" he said.  "She looks like she hasn't slept since my--for days," he corrected himself quickly.

"Probably because she helped the attack on muggle London and has been scheming some other way to kill innocent muggles!" Ginny hissed. 

"You're supposed to be her best friend--Merkin, she helped save her life in the Chamber!"

"Obviously people change, Harry," Ginny glowered. "Tell me why it is that Draco Malfoy can escape the Death Eaters and Evanna Malfoy stays to follow Voldemort if she didn't want to?"

Harry didn't know what to say to that, least of which because it was news to him that Draco Malfoy had 'escaped' the Death Eaters. But Ginny seemed to take that as an indictment. 

"That's what I thought," she said. "I hate it as much as you do, Harry, but we're going to have to be stronger if we want the good guys to win this war."

Harry clenched his jaw as the redhead marched off, disappearing into the crowd. 

Chapter Text

Hermione POV

The shop was almost overwhelming to Hermione. Bright colors everywhere, kids running back and forth from display to display, dragging their not-so-willing parents behind them, incredible magics being worked right in front of her eyes. She could not help but smirk at the puppet on a tightrope above the customers’ heads, shouting “I will have ORDER!”--an obvious parody of Dolores Umbridge. Hermione was drawn, however, to the pink display of cosmetics and love potions. 

Love potions were notoriously tricky, and to create a shelf-stable supply such as this? Even trickier. It was most impressive for the twins to have been given the lisence to sell such things--

“Now I know the great Hermione Granger has no need of love potions,” a voice said behind her. She whipped around to see Fred leaning against the display of edible Dark Marks in that ridiculous dragon-skin suit. She flushed.

“They’re really impressive, that’s all!” Hermione said, defending herself. “All of the shop is, really. You and George should be proud of yourselves.”

He looked positively like the cat that swallowed the canary. 

"The great Gryffindor prefect would put her stamp of approval on my humble prank shop?" he said dramatically. Hermione clamped down on her desire to laugh. "My, my Ms. Granger--that is high praise indeed!"

Hermione was about to say something when Ginny came flying over to her, grabbing her arm. 

"I need you to come with me."

"That's nice, just ignore your so-called favorite brother," Fred said sarcastically. 

"I don't see Bill anywhere around here," Ginny quipped. 

"You wound me."

"You'll get over it," Ginny said rolling her eyes. "Now I need to talk to Mione--don't you have a business to run?"

“I will bid you adieu, then, ladies,” Fred said, tipping an imaginary hat to Hermione and Ginny before waltzing toward a group of kids eyeing the Skiving Snackboxes.

“You need to come with me,” Ginny said, grabbing hold of Hermione’s arm.

“Come with you? Where? We’re supposed to stay with the--”

“Someone is up to no good, and she’s going to end up hurting Harry,” Ginny said, pulling Hermione out into the alley. 

“Then we should go talk to Harry--”

“You know as well as I do that he doesn’t listen to anyone when it comes to her,” Ginny said in a dark tone. 

Hermione frowned, her mind immediately landing on the only person Ginny could possibly be referring to, though the redhead had never spoken of the girl in that suspicious tone before. 

“Since when are you and Evanna Malfoy not friends?” Hermione said, folding her arms. Ginny flushed. 

“I always thought when it came down to it, she would choose the right side,” Ginny said, looking down the alleyway. “But she’s proven me wrong. I think she’s a Death Eater.”

Hermione’s eyebrows rose so fast they practically flew off her face. “But, Gin--You-Know-Who barely takes any woman into the Death Eaters. And Malfoy hasn’t even taken her OWLs yet! And I’ve always heard that--well--she’s not the best at practicals--”

“Only in Light magicks, but you saw her duel Harry in the DA--she’s a prodigy,” Ginny pushed. 

“That’s the other thing--why would she spend so much time training Harry if she was a Death Eater. I know I was suspicious of her last year, but--”

“As much as I’d love to stand here and list out why I might know better than you when it comes to Evanna Malfoy, I already spotted her headed towards Knockturn Alley, and I intend on finding out what she’s up to.”

Without another word, Ginny took off towards Knockturn, which was disturbingly close to the twins’ shop, especially in these times. Hermione stood stunned for a moment before taking off after her friend, whisper-shouting her name. 

Ginny stopped abruptly, putting her finger over her mouth, ducking into an alcove. They watched as Evanna Malfoy glanced furtively around the alley, drawing her hood up over her head before going further. Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand and all but pulled her to the next alcove as Bridget Travers and Narcissa Malfoy chased after Evanna. 

"Ev, are you sure this is--"

"How else do you think I convinced Father to let me come here?" Evanna said in a low whisper. 

"But you could be seen--"

"You act as though people don't expect me to be in Knockturn Alley," Evanna scoffed. 

"Mrs. Malfoy, please--" Bridget said pleadingly. 

"You know the order of things, Bridget," Mrs Malfoy said, before grabbing her daughter's wrist. "Still, darling, it may be prudent to listen to your friend. This task…."

"Just as it was prudent to send Draco away without consulting me?" Evanna demanded. "Why, exactly, is my brother not here? I could have sent him and there would be even fewer questions."

Ginny had gone ramrod straight beside Hermione. 

“Evanna, this is not the time nor place--”

“Then where is? Hogwarts? The Manor?” Evanna snapped. “I have no intentions of bringing Draco’s absence to the attention of the Dark Lord, but Mother, he--”

“Oh, just go on to the shop so we can get out of here, Evanna!” Travers snapped. "You never know who might be watching in the streets."

Evanna opened and closed her mouth a couple times, but Mrs Malfoy wrapped an arm around the petite girl and all but dragged her forward. Travers, however, had bent to tie her shoe and was taking an inordinately long time tying it. When the Malfoy women were sufficiently far enough ahead, Travers stood and turned directly toward Hermione and Ginny's hiding spot. Hermione froze. 

"You really pulled Granger along with you, Ginny? How stupid and reckless could you be?" 

Ginny stepped out from the shadows, glaring at the other girl. "Only as stupid as you for following her around like a lost puppy dog."

Travers shook her head. “Look, Granger, you shouldn’t be down here. Ginny is barely safe down here.”

“Are you threatening me?” Hermione said, gripping her wand. 

“No, Granger, I know you would beat me in a duel. I don’t like this any more than you do, but our world isn’t safe anymore. Ginny should have known better,” she said, glaring again at 

Travers shook her head. "You seem to be under the delusion that we all had Draco's option to run away like a dog with his tail between his legs like the coward that he is."

Ginny jerked toward Travers, face contorted in fury. Hermione grabbed hold of the younger girl, pulling her away. 

“You take that back! Draco is the only brave one of the lot of you--actually trying to change his fate instead of fighting for an evil madman!”

Ever yours, D.

Oh Merlin.

The amulet had been from Draco Malfoy . When had that happened? Why had that happened?

“Just get on to your family, Weasley, before it gets too dark. Next time, I won’t cover for you,” Travers said, turning her back on them deliberately. “See you at school.”

Hermione did not wait for Ginny to say anything back and instead drug her out of Knockturn Alley and back to an alcove just before Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but Hermione stopped her. 

“How long have you been seeing Draco Malfoy?”

Ginny's face went a strange purple color. "Given he's not in the bloody country, I don't think anyone is seeing Draco Malfoy right now--"

Hermione gave Ginny the same glare she gave the boys when they tried to directly copy her potions essay and the younger girl scowled. 

“He broke up with me. So it hardly matters anymore does it?” Ginny said, her face tight.  Hermione did her best to be sympathetic, but could not quite find it within herself. The boy had been nothing but a bigoted bully since day one of Hogwarts and Hermione could not help but loathe him. 

“Is… is it really such a bad thing?” Hermione said. “I mean--he is--”

Ginny glared at him. “There is a reason we kept it secret. He’s not perfect, but he’s not Mordred reincarnated or anything.”

Hermione opened her mouth, but Ginny had not finished. 

“But he’s gone anyway, and he sent me some super posh amulet and broke up with me by owl,” she babbled. “And his sister--who used to be my best friend--is becoming more of a Death Eater every day and no one will listen to me.”

Ginny turned on her heel, walking into the back entrance of her brother’s shop and not saying another word. 

Evanna POV

Dinner with the Travers was almost too much after the frustrating and ultimately unfruitful trip to Knockturn Alley. Not only had Narcissa refused to give her answers in regards to her brother, but the visit to the shop had been nothing short of useless. She was no closer to coming up with a plan to kill Dumbledore in his own school. 

“....if you would be amenable, Dark Lady,” Mr. Travers was saying. “Dark Lady?”

Evanna blinked, her head swimming. Both Narcissa and Bridget were sending her worried looks. 

“Excuse me--I need some air,” she muttered, gesturing for Bridget and Naricssa to sit when they stood to accompany her. Really, she was the best duelist at the table, what did they think they would be able to do that she couldn’t herself?

She made her way downstairs to the Leaky Cauldron proper, somewhat relishing the crowd that had gathered in the latter part of the day, though it was not nearly as big as it once had been. She leaned against the cool stone wall in the back when she was caught in the gaze of a green eyed boy. Without thinking about how stupid it was, how she would probably be dead by the end of the year for trying to kill the most dangerous Light wizard of their time, that Harry would probably hate her for it, just like her best friend did. 

They both slipped into a room clearly marked as “employees only”, not even speaking to identify it as a hiding place. Evanna had gotten no further than a stack of ale barrels when Harry pulled her tight against him, kissing her soundly. All thoughts of her father’s orders and Ginny’s vitriol was silenced, if only for a moment, as she melted into the hard, quidditch-earned muscles of his chest. 

Harry pulled away long enough to whisper, “I don’t care what Ginny says, I know--”

“I know that. I was so scared after the attack, Harry--”

“When I didn’t hear from you, I thought--”

She pressed herself tightly against him again, still so relieved that he was alive after the attack in muggle London. He kissed her just as soundly. The door opened and they heard the crowd outside in the bar proper--that was enough to shake Evanna out of her daze and yank Harry to the floor as they heard Tom the barkeeper cursing under his breath, looking for something. Both of them went utterly silent until the man was gone. 

Neither quite looked at each other as they continued to crouch there, Evanna’s arms still tight around Harry’s neck, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises. 

“Things are going to get worse, Harry,” she said finally, in a low voice. “What I’m expected to do… What I’ll have to do….. I won’t blame you if you want to end this here and now.”

“Evanna, we’ve been over this--”

“No, listen,” Evanna said. “What I’ve been ordered to do….. You won’t like. At all. But I can’t say that I won’t do it if I can. It’s not like what happened on your birthday--it’s not hurting innocents, but you won’t like it. So, I am giving you the option, here and now, to end this. Because I don’t know if I’ll let you end it should it go much further.”

“We’ve already had this conversation, Evanna,” he said. “Several times. I’m not giving up on you. I--”

He cut himself off abruptly as the door swung open again. Evanna found herself pressed into Harry’s side and she could hear some words--words that were far too early to be thinking, let alone saying, especially given the circumstances--reverberating in his head. Once Tom the barkeep had once again left, Evanna started to pull away. 

“I have to go,” she said. “People are expecting me. We--we’ll meet in the Chamber after the Sorting, alright?”

Before she quite could, he pulled her back into one last kiss. She sank into it, letting the scent of wind and broom lacquer fill her up. When she finally arrived back to the dinner awaiting her upstairs, Narcissa looked nearly apoplectic while Bridget had seemed ready to mount a search party.

“Apologies,” Evanna said. “Time got away from me.”

“Perhaps we should buy you a watch early, milady,” Narcissa said acerbically. Evanna gave her a cool glance. 

“Where were we, Mr. Travers?” she asked. 

“Yes, I was questioning if your esteemed father had…”

The man spoke of economies and trade, but all Evanna could think of was how her world would come crashing down no matter what happened this year.

Chapter Text

Evanna spent the rest of summer training both with and without her father. The sessions with him had taken on an odd, mechanical feeling that had not been present with him before. She learned more curses, hexes, and jinxes than she had thought possible, and excelled at each one of them. When her father set her to duel two, then three, then four of his lower ranking Death Eaters at a time, she managed to incapacitate each one with few injuries to herself. 

“You recognize that you will not be able to leave our enemies alive, yes?” her father said one day, when she had been knocked out by Death Eater number two in one of these duels, as he had started to come awake. 

“You want me to kill your followers during training?” she said. 

“I want you to win .”

He said it with a sort of manic gleam in his eye that made Evanna have to repress a shudder. Even more concerning was what he said next. 

“I will be accompanying you to the train platform.”

Had Evanna been drinking something, she might have spit it out in the most undignified fashion. As it was, her eyes bulged out and she stumbled a little in her walk. 

“Pardon?” she asked. “You wish to go to the platform? Platform 9 ¾?”

“What other train would I be going to? The Orient Express?”

Evanna was not quite sure what the Orient Express was, but was fairly certain her father was seriously considering accompanying her to the Hogwarts Express. 

“But--but--you’re--you.”

Her father lifted an eyebrow. “I can see Narcissa’s lessons in elocution were not lost on you,” he said dryly. “Obviously, I will not be going as myself. Luckily, most of the public still believe you to be the daughter of Lucius Malfoy, who they believe to be alive.”

“But the Order of the Pheonix doesn’t,” she said. “And you know that Dumbledore, well, knows who I am.”

Her face burned as she said it. Her father’s face twisted into a smirk. 

“But the old man’s hands are tied after keeping this secret so long,” he said. “Gives me the opportunity to vex him what will hopefully be the last time.”

He’s mad. 

Evanna shut the thought down almost as soon as it occurred to her. That thought…. It did not serve her, only frightened her with its implications. 

So that was how she found herself being escorted to Platform 9 ¾ by the Dark Lord Voldemort disguised as Lucius Malfoy. He kept a possessive hand on her shoulder as they made their way through the platform. It seemed he wanted to see her handed off directly to her still supposed betrothed. That was when another disquieting thought occurred to Evanna. 

He did not trust her. 

Of course, the Dark Lord trusted no one fully, but Evanna had quickly been pulled into the ranks of his most trusted as he had trained her in the summer following his return. That trust had lessened significantly in the year following. 

Mrs. Nott looked pale and nervous, as though she was the one who had been in Azkaban. She trembled and nearly bowed before Theo grabbed her hand and shook his head. Though the Notts knew it was not Lucius Malfoy in front of them, though most of Dumbledore’s Order knew it was not Lucius Malfoy, it would not do to give away just who it was beneath the Polyjuice. Theo took Evanna’s hand and kissed it. 

“Good summer?” he murmured.

Evanna did not take a moment to consider the truth of the summer when she felt her father tense beside her. 

As if drawn by a force like fate, Evanna turned to see a group of Order of the Phoenix members and aurors escorting Harry Potter and his friends to the train. Harry paused and clutched his scar, seeming to suddenly be in pain. He turned toward Evanna and her father, eyes widening in shock that quickly turned to determination, jutting out his chin as he deliberately removed his hand from his scar. 

“The boy is annoyingly bold,” her father muttered. 

“Comes from spending all your time in a lion den,” Evanna sniped, ordering her heart to quit thundering so loud in her ears. In her mind, she was screaming at Harry to just get on the train, not make a scene, not to challenge her father in this moment. 

He seemed to somehow realize just how catastrophic a fight on the platform could be, because he allowed Granger to usher him along onto the train. The moment of tension broken, her father turned to Nott.

“Too many people know my daughter’s identity,” he said in a low voice. “I expect you and the other Slytherins to protect her on the train. She will be the most vulnerable while moving, without even Snape to watch over her.”

Theo nodded, his face pale. 

“We will protect her to the best of our abilities, Master--Mister Malfoy,” he said. 

Her father narrowed his eyes, the expression on Lucius Malfoy’s face making Evanna want to tremble. “You will protect her with your lives, else those lives are forfeit.”

Mrs. Nott let out a noise that might have been a whimper. Theo swallowed, doing his best to look like a grown man rather than the boy that he was. “Of--of course. She will be protected.”

The Dark Lord held the boy’s gaze for several moments longer and Theo seemed to sag when he finally turned to Evanna, putting both hands on her shoulders so she was forced to look him directly in the eye. Those steel, grey eyes of the man who had been her tormentor turned first victim. It was like an avenging ghost was haunting her. 

Her father’s voice lowered into a sibilant hiss that Lucius had never been able to produce. 

“ You are to sssssstay with the children of my followerssss ,” he hissed. “ Do not sssstray with thossssse of lessssser backgroundsssss .”

Evanna forced herself to stay stoic, to look beyond the outer shell of Lucius Malfoy. “ Yessss, father. ”

“ And remember your mossssst important tassssssk, ” he hissed. “ Do what you need to keep above ssssssussssspissssion with your professsssssorssssss, but no more. Kill Albusssss Dumbledore when the time issssss right .”

An icy claw clamped around Evanna’s heart at the reminder of her mission. “ Yessss, father. ”

In the guise of Lucius, her father pressed her close to his chest. She closed her eyes to keep herself from immediately shoving away, breathing deeply to calm herself.

“You will not fail me, daughter,” he whispered in her ear, no longer in Parseltongue. “And we shall rule together for a thousand years.”

Evanna pulled away, doing her best to hide her trepidation at her father’s pronouncement. What did he mean to rule for a thousand years? A thousand years turned even the most powerful wizards to dust.

The train blew its horn, warning students to make their last goodbyes and Evanna took the opportunity to step away from her father and look away from the fearsome fervor in his eyes. 

“C’mon, milady,” Theo muttered, taking her hand and placing it on his arm. “We need to get to the train.”

Evanna nodded, allowing him to pull her onto the train. She could not help the pang as she turned toward the train car where most of the Slytherins sat and away from the compartment she had first sat in with Ginny, Bridget, and Luna. It was not that she had never sat in another compartment; it was that something about this year felt different. The rift between the girls seemed more permanent this time. 

Theo didn’t leave much time for Evanna to reflect on the situation, though, for he was already pulling her along to the upper-year Slytherins’ compartment. Blaise Zabini was already in there, arm slung casually around Daphne Greengrass while Crabbe and Goyle argued over some sweets in the corner. Evanna was somewhat surprised to note that her roommates, Elin and Eva, were also in the compartment. Unfortunately, so was Pansy Parkinson, who gave Evanna as dirty as a look as she dared. 

“So it’s true?” Pansy said. “Draco isn’t coming to Hogwarts this year?”

“Looks like you do indeed need to patrol the train, Pans,” Blaise drawled. 

“She’s a prefect, too,” Pansy sneered. 

“Ahh, but she is our lady, so it would be best she stay away from the uncouth masses,” Blaise said, giving his usual debonair grin. “Besides, she and I have been invited to a formal tea on the train.”

“Pardon?” Evanna asked.

Blaise passed a piece of parchment to Theo, who glanced at it with a scowl before handing it to Evanna. Evidently, a new professor was having an ‘informal meeting’ with those students with a reputation of being ‘the best and brightest’ of the new generation of witches and wizards. Evanna didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that the scowl on Theo’s face was because he had not received such an invitation. Blaise seemed almost more gleeful at that fact. 

“Looks like I will be accompanying you to tea,” he said with a grin. Theo scowled. 

Eventually, Parkinson left to go and patrol the train cars and Crabbe and Goyle went along to cause some sort of mischief. Evanna did not comment as several of the upper-year students whose parents she had rescued from Azkaban quickly took their place. It felt like her father had ordered some sort of guard duty, only, there was not one of her ‘guards’ who would be able to fight better than she could. So, if not actual guards, the Slytherins surrounding her could only be regarded as spies. 

Evanna was not at all surprised to see that Harry had been invited to such an event--it was, however, surprising to see Ginny Weasley in there. Though Evanna knew Ginny to be a very capable witch with a wicked sense of humor and great on the Quidditch field, it was doubtful that Professor Slughorn would know any of that. By very definition, Weasleys were the furthest thing from influential in the Wizarding World. 

As Evanna entered, Harry awkwardly stood until Blaise pulled out her seat and she had sat down. 

"Never would have thought that being raised by muggles and a fugitive would teach you such old fashioned manners, Potter," Blaise quipped. 

Evanna fought the urge to blush at Harry’s chivalry. It was made easier by the glare Ginny was shooting her way. 

“Welcome to our little salon,” said an older gentleman whose sateen waistcoat was stretched almost to the point of no return. “Mr. Zabini and Ms. Malfoy I assume?”

 “Yes,” Blaise said graciously. “My mother always said you were her favorite professor, Professor Slughorn.”

The large man positively beamed. Evanna braced herself for a long year with the professor. 

“I was most disappointed to learn that young heir Malfoy was not on the train,” he continued, turning to Evanna. She gave him a tight smile. 

“My brother decided to… Pursue training elsewhere for a little while, at least,” she said. She could not help but notice that Ginny was glaring at her all the nastier for it. “So I suppose you will have to settle for a consolation prize, professor.”

“Oh, but you are rather interesting yourself, aren’t you, Ms. Malfoy?” he said. “After all, the papers were rather smitten with your forbidden romance two years ago with Hogwarts’ most famous student.”

Evanna could all but feel the panic rolling off of Harry in waves. She gave another tight smile. 

“Yes, the tabloids are always obsessed with the rich and famous, aren’t they?” she said. “As you said, though, that was two years ago and greatly exaggerated. I hope I can impress you with my own skills in the classroom, though--you’re to teach Potions, yes?”

The twinkle in the man’s eye had only grown at her denial of her relationship with Harry, as though he was an old society woman sniffing out gossip. Evanna kept her expression pleasantly neutral until the man at last turned away from her to continue interviewing his roster of influential students. Blaise smirked at her. 

“If only he knew,” her one-time date said. 

Evanna pursed her lips. “It’s best he does not, don’t you think?”

She dared a glance at Harry, who had slipped a chocolate biscuit into his sleeve as though he was ten years old eating dessert before supper. She quirked an eyebrow at him and was delighted to see that sometimes it was she who could make him blush. That brief moment, however, was quickly quashed by Ginny’s suspicious scowl as she glanced between the two. Evanna quickly began serving herself a small sandwich and settled in for was sure to be a long afternoon.

Chapter Text

Severus POV

Severus had not particularly wanted to go to the beginning of the year feast, but, of course, he had had no real choice in the matter. That seemed to be the main theme of his life after all. He gritted his teeth as the Headmaster introduced Sirius Black as the new Defense of the Dark Arts teacher. He could only hope the so-called curse on the position would take effect on his childhood tormentor. 

The Headmaster was talking with only one of his hands. The other was blackened. Cursed. The Headmaster was only still standing because of Severus Snape’s quick thinking. When the headmaster had returned to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry nearly dead it had taken all of Severus’s varied skills in potions kk and the dark arts to keep the headmaster from dying within the hour. And, evidently, to keep any semblance of a job at the school, or as a spy for either side of the war. It had been the very next day after Severus had saved Dumbledore's life from the cursed ring that he had been called once again in the Headmaster's office. 

"It seems I am in your debt, Severus. I did not expect you to save me from my folly ," the old man had said after unsuccessfully offering Severus a lemon drop. 

" What kind of member of the Order would I be if I let you die? ” Severus replied. “ And you will need continued treatment, Headmaster, and even that may not save you- -”

" Many no longer trust your loyalty, " the old man said. It felt as though Snape's veins had been shot with ice. 

" And are you one of those many? " he said in as even a tone as he could. 

“ You disobeyed direct orders regarding Harry Potter ,” the Headmaster said.

“The boy needs training, Albus, and it should not have taken until his fifth year to begin it!”

“Tell me, is Lily Evans’ son the only reason you work against Voldemort?”

“ You know it’s not ,” Severus had said. 

“Then it’s time you see the bigger picture.”

As the Headmaster introduced Professor Slughorn and glossed over Severus’ diminished role, a pair of bespectacled eyes caught Severus’ attention. He was grateful that the boy was far away enough that he could not see the haunting green of his best friend's eyes. How could he look into Lily Potter's eyes, knowing what he now knew about the fate of her son? Perhaps it was a blessing that he would not be teaching the boy this year (for Severus knew that Dumbledore would have forced Potter into Potions despite his subpar Potions marks). 

Potter looked away, instead rather obviously looking up and down the Slytherin table until he caught the attention of Evanna. The second child Severus had sworn to protect, the child Severus wished had been his rather than the true horror of her parentage.  

How he had managed to keep the girl from learning this new tragedy in the saga that was Potter's life, he was not entirely sure. All he could imagine was that she had become so focused on maintaining the secrecy of their ill-fated and ill-advised teenaged tryst that she had not paid any attention whatsoever to her strange set of powers. 

Evanna seemed to be at least marginally more in control of her hormones as she turned away from Potter almost as soon as he looked at her. Instead, she looked toward the Headmaster, her face becoming more drawn and pale as she studied up at him. Severus frowned, unsure what to make of the expression on her face. If he was honest with himself, he wondered what the Dark Lord was thinking sending her back to Hogwarts. 

The Headmaster met Evanna’s gaze evenly as he spoke of keeping the forces of darkness outside of Hogwarts. That the students were greatest defense against the oncoming storm. The old man’s face took on the look of a battle-hardened general as he continued to hold Evanna’s gaze. 

The girl broke away first. 

Evanna POV 

Evanna felt Harry’s gaze land on her about halfway through the Headmaster’s welcome speech, but she refused to meet his eyes for long. There were far too many people around, her father’s voice still ringing in her ears, warning her to stay away from those outside of his influence. Harry was of course the furthest person outside of his influence Evanna could think of. 

The Headmaster’s speech made her more nervous with each word, as he all but recruited the students of Hogwarts to join the Order of the Phoenix from the high table. This man, who her father had ordered her to kill, was encouraging children to become soldiers. Her mouth set in a hard line, Evanna met his icy blue stare evenly. 

What did it matter that he was supposedly the best wizard of a generation? Her father was just as powerful, and some had already suggested she had the potential to outdo even him. Besides, no one had yet to stand up to Albus Dumbledore's unique brand of tyranny, how he seemed to exert his power over the Wizarding World without anyone having put him in charge of anything except a school. 

None of that erased the fact that Evanna was not even fifteen and had been given an impossible task. 

Evanna could feel how annoyed the Headmaster was becoming as she continued to hold his gaze when she finally noticed something--his hand. His hand was blackened, shriveled, like it was dead but still attached to his living body. She pressed forward with her mind, forcing her way past the icy walls of the Headmaster’s defenses. She caught sight of a ring with a black stone before she was forcibly shoved out, the Headmaster’s glare heavy upon her. She quickly looked away, not feigning fear as much as she would have liked. 

“I believe after all that heavy talk, it is time to go to bed,” the Headmaster announced to the hall at large. 

Evanna quickly stood, calling the first years to follow her and her partner prefect, Teagan Leroy. It half looked as though he was the only prefect, as he stood at least a foot taller than Evanna and she was much closer to the height of the first years. 

“First years!” she called, stretching to her tiptoes to be seen. “First years this way!”

“You know you don’t have to do this,” Leroy told her as they gathered the new Slytherins.

“Isn’t part of the prefect’s job?” she said. 

“Don’t you outrank a prefect?” he said dryly. Evanna shot him a sharp look. 

“Not by normal Hogwarts protocol,” she said primly. 

“Somehow, I’d imagine by normal Hogwarts protocol, you wouldn’t even be here,” he said. “You can delegate, my lady,”

“I can,” she agreed simply, before calling over her shoulder again, “This way, new Slytherins!”

She could feel an odd sort of surprise echoing off him as she overtook him in the hallway, leading the young Slytherins to their new Common Room. As she moved out of the Great Hall, she felt someone brush past her, a tingle of electricity going up her arm as Harry tapped her palm. Their eyes locked for just a moment.

I’m being watched .

Both shoved the same thought toward the other, knowing that their desire to meet tonight was likely to not happen. She knew it would come as no shock to Harry that she was being watched--when had she not been watched since coming to Hogwarts?--but that someone was watching the boy-who-lived? Who did not trust Harry Potter?

Evanna was startled into paying attention to her House again as Theodore came up beside her, all but glaring at Harry as he took her hand. 

“Is this the time, Theodore?” she murmured. 

“When we are in public and so many eyes are on you?” he scoffed. “Absolutely.”

Evanna scowled, causing one of the first years to all but squeak in alarm. She quickly schooled her features into something a little more pleasant. 

“This way, come along!” she called. “Don’t trip on the stone--it gets rough closer to the dungeons.”

Evanna was able to sense that Professor Snape was already waiting for them in the shadows of the Slytherin Common Room when they entered. He always seemed to enjoy making a dramatic entrance; she half wondered if he would have been better suited for the stage instead of the classroom. 

Well, he’s no longer in the classroom, is he?

Evanna and Teagan Leroy stood in front of the House, waiting for the first years to quiet when one’s voice rose above the crowd. 

“You have to lying!” a petite redhead said hotly. Evanna was reminded painfully of Ginny. “There is no way they would make You-Know-Who’s daughter a Prefect!”

Before Evanna could say anything, Professor Snape had stepped out of the shadows, face like carved stone. 

“Slytherin is the House of the cunning, shrewd, and ambitious,” he said lowly, yet every Slytherin was able to hear him perfectly. “And typically, members of our esteemed House have at least a modicum of self-preservation.”

The first year flushed and stepped back into the crowd. Professor Snape did not take his gaze from the first year for several moments before addressing the room at large. 

“This is Slytherin House, the House of Merlin and yet also the most maligned of the four Houses,” he said. “For more than a decade, it has been relatively peaceful in this House in a way that it had not been since before I was a student here. I do not expect this year to be the same.”

Evanna felt an odd swoop in her stomach. 

“As you know, there is a war outside these walls. In war, people die. For some reason, Slytherin House bore the brunt of the blame for the last war, and I expect this year to be much the same,” he said. “So, it would be best that all of you behave with the utmost decorum outside of this Common Room and give the rest of the school no reason to suspect the Serpent Den more than they already do.”

Evanna exchanged a glance with Theo, who looked just as nervous as she felt. She could feel the nerves of the Slytherin students racheting with each word, too. 

“When you are accused unfairly--as you likely will be this year--I will do my utmost to fight for you,” he continued. “When you are accused rightfully, I will not sacrifice the already shaky reputation of this House to save your foolish hide. You shall always do your very best in your classes and seek assistance from your Prefects or myself when your efforts are insufficient. And finally, your appearance shall always reflect the long tradition of excellence that our House has held. Bearing that in mind, when I call your name, you wil receive your House badge. The House elves will see to your robes.”

Evanna watched each of the first years walking forward to receive their badge in somewhat of a haze. 

“Who would have thought that when we received our badges things would have turned out this way,” Theodore muttered to her. “Draco Merlin knows where, you and I in a betrothal neither of us want. You--leading a war.”

“Keep your voice down,” she hissed. 

“We are in Slytherin House--everyone knows and no one dares speak against you,” he said softly. 

Evanna did not reply, instead moving forward to speak to Professor Snape as soon as he finished handing out the badges. 

“Professor!” she called as the dour man made his way to exit the common room. He did not so much as look back. “Professor Snape!”

He turned just as he had opened the door. “You are a Prefect now, Ms. Malfoy. You are to be escorting the first years to bed.”

“You and I both know I did not receive the Prefect title to supervise eleven year olds,” she said.

“I do not wish to know the reason your esteemed father pushed so hard for you to have this position. My own is precarious enough,” he replied, turning to the door once more. 

“Where is Draco, Professor?” she demanded. “When is he coming home?”

The professor paused again, not looking towards her. “As whom are you asking? The Dark Lady or as a sister?”

Evanna felt a pang go through his heart. “Does that change the answer?”

He turned toward her. “Soon, my lady.”

He did not give her another opportunity to ask him what that meant. 

Voldemort POV

My dear father, 

The members of our House have gathered around me to provide protection, as you wished, though I doubt any school child could provide me with better protection than you have taught me to provide myself. The school is on high alert, with teachers checking students’ belongings upon arrival for Dark items--not that any would be foolish enough to bring such things through the front gate. 

Dumbledore is once again calling for unity across the Houses, though I would say it is far from a sincere invitation. There is something more interesting than his preaching, however. The Headmaster’s wand hand is entirely blackened as though cursed. I have never seen the like of it. The old man may no longer be the threat we once believed him to be. 

Your faithful daughter,

Evanna

The Dark Lord tapped his chin. The letter was intriguing--Dumbledore with a new weakness to exploit. And his daughter--she was clearly worried about this assignment and not nearly as sly as she believed herself. Even with this new weakness, Dumbledore was more than a formidable opponent. It was not only spellwork that would win this war, but also influence. Voldemort could not see a day in which Dumbledore would not exert that kind of influence over the people. 

There had been no reports of Evanna going against the grain again on the train or elsewhere. She had been the model Slytherin Prefect, sitting alongside her betrothed and guiding the newest snakes to the Common Room. None of her usual mooning over Potter or galavanting with the rabble from other Houses. Perhaps she had turned a new leaf, devoted herself more fully to his cause. 

Or perhaps she was fooling him. 

Snarling, Voldemort threw the parchment into the flames. He ought to have disposed of her as soon as he had cause to doubt her. Many times over the summer, he had opened her door at night, the spell on his lips, ready to end this failed experiment. But, each time, he could not say the spell that had gained him his reputation, as though some ancient force was staying his tongue. Finally, he had devised this plan; either she would take care of his Dumbledore problem or Dumbledore would rid him of his heir. 

He still was unsure which was the larger threat. 

He was sure that the world would burn if she was taken.

Chapter Text

Draco POV

It was still unbearably hot. 

September first had come and Draco was officially not on the Hogwarts Express, headed back to school. Ginny had not responded to him--he was not sure whether to be offended or relieved at that. Given that he had broken up with her via owl post, he ought to be grateful that she hadn’t found a way to jinx him in a letter.

But it still stung. Hurt, really, if he was being truthful with himself. Like a burning knife to the heart. But Draco made it a point to not be truthful with himself.

His mentor had noticed his black mood and insisted he take a day off to explore the streets of Cairo. So Draco did not even have his studies to distract him, as instead he was forced to roam around the muggy crowded streets with only his black thoughts for company. Had Ginny accepted his gift? Did she hate him? Had she already moved on? He knew she had always had a ridiculous crush on Potter--with his sister truly out of the way, had Potter realized the gem standing right in front of him?

His sister. Not his sister. His cousin. Had she boarded the Hogwarts Express, as though she wasn’t the heir of the most dangerous wizard of their time? As though she herself wasn’t set to become even more dangerous than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 

Draco stopped himself in the middle of the busy street. That thought… that thought was dangerous even on a different continent. 

“Back for more jewelry for your girlfriend?” called a voice from one of the booths. 

Draco whipped his head around to see that he had arrived at the cart where he had bought the amulet for Ginny. The young witch had a smirk on her face.

“Don’t you Egyptian witches have some sort of school you go to?” he asked. “ Uagadou has a good reputation--”

“Uagadou is several countries away,” the girl said, rolling her eyes. “My father did not want for me to travel… Wizarding England is not the only dangerous place in this world.”

“Then how do you--”  

“Please, my parents are more than accomplished enough. I will learn more from them,” she scoffed. 

Draco considered this for a moment. Certainly, the amulets they produced spoke of wizards of high caliber, but to go without wizarding school…

“Aren’t you lonely?” he asked. “I mean--do you know anyone your age who has magic?”

“I have met you, have I not?”

She gave him a funny look, up through her eyelashes, and Draco felt flushed, and not just from the hot, Egyptian sun. 

“Hardly, I don’t even know your name--”

“Auset,” the girl said. “Though I don’t know yours.”

The girl’s dark eyes were sparkling. Draco almost smirked, feeling like his old self again for the first time in a while. 

“Malfoy,” he said, not bothering to hide the pride he had once felt at his family name; not here, when he was miles away from home where the name had once meant something. “Draco Malfoy.”

Sirius POV

Sirius didn’t know how Moony had done it. 

Remus had always been the least confident of the Marauders if one didn’t count the rat, which Sirius definitely did not. Prongs and Padfoot had always been the ones to suck all the air out of the room with the sheer size and energy of who they were. Of course, they had been teenagers then; no wars or dementors or betrayals or deaths on their minds. Now that Sirius was standing in front of teenagers himself, all of them having very recently believed him to be a crazy mass murderer, things were different. Luckily his first class of the morning had a rather small roster. As the fifth year Slytherins and Gryffindors filed in, they were whispering to each other, arguing over who got to sit in the back row. Sirius had to smile when Ginny Weasley flounced in and took the front center table without saying a word to her classmates. She winked at him.

“This better be as good as Professor Lupin,” she said just loud enough for him to hear. Sirius barked a laugh, causing a few students in the back to jump. 

It was just before the bell rang that his cousin made her appearance. Sirius watched the girl that his godson had inexplicably attached himself to as she made her way to the front as well. Right before Evanna Malfoy reached the front center table, Ginny deliberately dropped her bookbag onto the seat directly beside her with a glare to Evanna. The Slytherin pursed her lips before simply taking the seat behind Ginny. 

Sirius steeled himself with a breath then flicked his wand to slam the door shut behind a short Gryffindor who for some reason was carrying a camera. A girl in the back let out a little scream. The Malfoy girl gave a very un-Narcissa-like snort. 

“Lesson one,” Sirius said. “Your enemy is never late. So you should be early.”

The students all straightened in their seats, pulling out their textbooks and all in all trying to show their new, somewhat deranged professor that they were competant students. Sirius smirked. 

“Why are you getting out useless books?” he demanded. 

“I would think that these are important to pass our OWLs, sir,” Evanna Malfoy said, voice just shy of an impertinent. Sirius could see why his godson was so enamored. 

“And who the hell told you I cared about that?” Sirius demanded. The Gryffindor boy with the camera nearly fell out of his seat while Ginny grinned wolfishly. Malfoy just held his stare. He had to fight a shiver. 

“As some of you know firsthand, Defense Against the Dark Arts is far more important than textbooks or OWLs,” he said. “Now, more than ever, this class is a matter of life or death. I frankly don’t give a damn if you pass or if you get an OWL or if you do any of your homework. The Headmaster may or may not agree with me--I don’t care. My purpose is for the majority of the students in this room to still be alive by the end of this war. Many of your classmates will not.”

Ginny was no longer grinning and indeed most of the class looked quite distressed. Sirius had to clamp down on the faces that floated past his mind’s eye--James, Lily, the Longbottoms, McKinnon, the Prewett twins. The size of this class was a testament to how many of his generation had been lost to the same damned war. Again, children were being made into soldiers, and again so many of them would not live to have their own children or to watch them grow up. 

“Sir?” Malfoy said softly. “Are you alright?”

Sirius shook himself at his cousin’s voice. The girl looked genuinely concerned. It made him think of Narcissa, before Hogwarts, when she was still the nurturer of the entire Black Clan. 

“Each of you will pair with someone in the opposite House,” he said. “We will be dueling today--I want to see what I’m working with. The rules--remain standing and don’t do anything permanent or lethal.”

“Does that mean we can use Dark Magic?” a Slytherin boy drawled. Malfoy whipped her head around and leveled a glare at him that reminded Sirius of a glare that would have had him running as a child. But it wasn’t Narcissa that she reminded him of in that moment. 

It was Bellatrix.

“Your rules are to remain standing and to not do anything permanent or lethal,” he said again, forcing himself to stare down the Slytherin boy and not to study Evanna Malfoy. That was made harder by Malfoy whipping back around to face him, those odd eyes blown wide open. 

Sirius made quick work of pairing them off based on their previous year rankings. Unsurprisingly, Evanna Malfoy and Ginny Weasley were the top of their respective Houses. Seeing the current animosity between the girls, Sirius was not entirely sure that he had made the right decision in pairing them together, but they were high enough above their classmates that it would not have been fair to any of the other students. 

As he would expect from a child raised by Lucius Malfoy, Evanna bowed very formally to Ginny, even as the redhead did the bare minimum that tradition required. The girls paced the allotted amount of steps away from each other, Evanna taking a perfect stance that even Sirius could not find fault in. Ginny, on the other hand, barely turned around before she launched herself into the duel, shouting the incantation for the Bat Bogey Hex. 

Malfoy stepped aside, the spell whizzing past her and hitting the boy with the camera square in the face. 

“Careful with the aim,” Sirius warned. “The last thing you want is to hit a friend instead of your enemy.”

Ginny glanced at him just long enough to nod. Malfoy took the opportunity though, shooting off a silent hex that turned Ginny’s skin green. Sirius had to suppress a chortle, moving on to some of the other students, assured that the girls had not taken advantage of the opportunity to completely demolish the other. Several of the boys had, predictably, taken things a little too far that Sirius had to quickly rectify. 

Overall, the kids were just that--kids. They were not fighters, not by a long shot. Sirius could not shake the sense of wrongness that this war was still falling to them, that his generation and the ones previous had not done enough to keep them from it. They would not last a minute in the chaos of actual battle, but they should not have to. How dare the world expect that of them?

Sirius was being sucked into his anger at the whole world once again, his bitterness nearly overtaking him to the point that he did not immediately notice that the classroom had stilled to watch Malfoy and Ginny. The redhaired girl had all but abandoned her wand for more muggle methods. She had Malfoy firmly in a head lock, the other girl’s face looking like she would likely be sporting quite the black eye come morning. Malfoy, too, had lost her wand at some point.

“Dirty, murdering scum--”

“--don’t even know--”

“--probably just looking for the opportunity--”

“--I swear to Salazar, Weasley, if--”

“--kill us like you did your own--”

Sirius saw it coming before it did--Malfoy’s eyes flashed that again made him think of his mad cousin. The energy in the room felt charged, dark, as Malfoy’s eyes became almost black.

“Take cov--”

Sirius had barely managed to shield the students behind him when a pulse of dark energy shot out of Malfoy, throwing Ginny ten feet from her as the glass from all of the windows shattered inward. Ginny was sliced equally as much as Malfoy, both girls looking like something straight out of the horror films Marlene McKinnon had once dragged him to. 

“Class dismissed,” Sirius said quickly. Several Slytherins tried to go to Malfoy, as if looking for orders, while a few Gryffindors tried to go to Ginny. “I said class dismissed! Everyone out except for Weasley and Malfoy!”

There was just enough growl to his voice that the students hastened to listen, though, Sirius noted, the Slytherins waited for a nod from Malfoy. 

“The hell was that?” he demanded, even as he magicked dittany to begin applying itself to the girls’ wounds. “You two know more than anyone that we do not have the luxury of playing games!”

“If you’ll excuse me, sir, I cannot help that Gryffindors are too simple to recognize any sort of nuance,” Malfoy said between gritted teeth.

“I hope you noticed, Sirius, that she has clearly been using Dark Magic for a long time! She probably already has the Dark Mark!”

“How many times do I have to tell you--I do not have the Mark nor will I ever--”

“Then where the hell were you--”

“Not all of us can live in a fantasy land with no consequences--”

“No--my father was in St Mungo’s for months last year!”

Sirius quickly cast a silencio charm over both teenaged girls, pinching his nose. He was thoroughly regretting his deal with Dumbledore, no matter how much he knew Harry would have hated being taken out of Hogwarts. 

“Look, you two are in this class to learn how to survive, not to kill each other over schoolgirl squabbles!” Ginny opened her mouth as though she was going to say something, but Sirius’ spell was still in effect. “I am sure they are very serious and make you want to claw each other’s eyes out--I’ve been there--but it will not be in my classroom. Understood?”

He waited until both of them nodded before he released his spell. “I’ll write you both notes if you want to go get cleaned up before your next class.”

“It’s fine, Professor Black,” Ginny said, throwing another vicious glare at Malfoy. “I’d rather get out of here.”

Though Ginny flounced out, Malfoy lingered. Her previous anger seemed to have faded and instead the girl seemed filled with some sort of insurmountable sadness. Sirius moved behind his desk to write the promised note. She took it silently and simply fiddled with the parchment in front of his desk. 

“Ms Mal--” he stopped himself. This was someone important to his godson, however ill-advised that importance might be. “Evanna?”

The girl looked up, something about those strange eyes making her look much older than any fifth year girl should. “She doesn’t know.”

Sirius frowned. “Know what?”

Evanna looked at the door and without permission, silently shut and warded the door with her wand. It was impressive magic from someone so young. “She doesn’t know that I was there. At the Ministry. She was my best friend, but now….”

Evanna trailed off, ducking her head. Again, Sirius found himself wishing that he had just taken Harry and fled to the Bahamas or somewhere equally luxurious instead of having to deal with the emotions of teenaged girls. He could imagine that Lily and Marlene were laughing at him, wherever they were now. 

Sirius nodded slowly, coming around to sit on the desk. “So why don’t you explain it to her?”

“The fewer people who know the better.”

It sounded like a rehearsed answer. Sirius cleared his throat.

“I don’t know if you realize, but we are family--”

“I know my genealogy, thank you,” the girl said coolly. Of course, as a proper pureblood witch, she would know her entire family history from the time of Merlin, practically. 

“I was trying to say--if you want out, I can help you,” he said softly. “My--my brother did not reach out until it was too late. If I can help even one family member out of the Death Eaters, I will.”

Her eyes flashed again, making her look like Bella as she rippedy up her left sleeve. There was nothing but pale skin there. 

“I am not a Death Eater,” she said again. Sirius held up his hands. She deflated a little. “Thank you for the note, Professor. Perhaps next time you could pair me two on one with some of the Slytherins instead of Gin--Weasley?”

Sirius had to hold back his chuckle at her cheekiness as his younger cousin swept from the room. Yes, he could understand Harry’s fascination with the girl. He could only hope that that fascination would not be as disastrous as he feared.

Chapter Text

"You not teaching is ridiculous."

Evanna had not allowed her mentor a word before she stormed through his office door and plopped herself onto one of the leather chairs in his office. Severus Snape pursed his lips. 

"I am certainly not gifted with chil--"

"Sirius Black runs Defense Against the Dark Arts as though we are in the Auror training program, which, while fine by me, is severely lacking in any of the theory that we will need on our OWLs while Professor Slughorn is too busy pandering to his favorites to bother doing any teaching beyond telling us where to turn in our textbooks."

"And are you one of these favorites?"

Evanna pursed her lips and shifted uncomfortably. "You know I am. He seems wary of the Slytherins though. And that is not my point--"

Her Head of House pushed further. "I had thought you were instructed to not worry about such mundane matters as OWLs--"

"Well, sort of, but--"

"--as your mission--whatever it is--is far more important than a ministry mandated test," her professor finished. Evanna scowled. 

"My question remains; why aren't you teaching?" she demanded, arms folded. “I could find out without your permission, but I know you would prefer I keep out of your head.”

Evanna could see the exact moment when her mentor decided that his privacy in this matter was not worth risking whatever else was swimming behind those black eyes. Evanna did her best to keep her face neutral, knowing that the professor would not appreciate any smirking. 

“I am no longer in favor with either side of this war,” he finally said. “Dumbledore does not trust me around Potter.”

Evanna frowned, not daring to ask why he was out of favor with her father. But, if he was a danger to Harry…. She had to know.  “Why does he not trust you around Harry?”

She did her best to keep her voice neutral, not to let on exactly how much she cared for the green-eyed boy, not let him know that they had never stopped their friendship, their more-than-friendship, despite his many warnings. His sharp glare told her that her attempt had failed. 

“I defied his orders regarding the boy wonder.”

“But what does that mean?” Evanna demanded. 

Professor Snape pursed his lips. “The Headmaster was not pleased that I went beyond training the boy in Occlumency but also trained him in dueling.”

“That’s ridiculous--when you told me this summer I assumed Dumbledore thought you were teaching him Dark Magic or trying to influence him to become a Death Eater!” she exclaimed. “But--Merlin--I’ve been trained in dueling since I could hold a wand! Harry needs--”

“I know all this already, Evanna,” the professor all but growled. “Neither of you have had what any sane person would call an appropriate upbringing.”

 There was nothing to say to that, so Evanna did not. “How is Mother?” she asked finally. 

“You mean your aunt?”

“There is no one else here, I will call her what she is to me,” Evanna replied harshly. 

“Narcissa is well. I believe she is having tea with her sister this afternoon.”

It was such an oddly normal thing for Evanna’s birth mother to be doing that she found she could not even picture it. 

“Do they--does that happen often?” she asked and Professor Snape snorted. 

“Only at your mother’s insistence.”

Evanna wasn’t sure which mother he meant. It didn’t matter any way. She still had questions circling her mind. 

“Professor?” she said carefully. “How could you get back into Dumbledore’s good graces?”

Professor Snape’s eyes snapped to her own, something dangerous in them. And she knew, she knew that he had contemplated that question and that he had determined that the risks outweighed the cost, because Evanna was the price for Dumbledore’s good graces. 

She nodded, an odd sort of knot in her throat. “And to regain favor with my father?”

Again he did not answer. She chose not to see the answer in his eyes. 

“I know I don’t provide the same amount of protection as either of them. I know that I am barely more than a pawn,” she said lowly. “But I will always count you as one of my own.”

“It is not your job to protect me, Ev--”

“Don’t finish that,” she said. “Because I won’t listen.”

That caused her professor to slip through several emotions--anger, fear, irritation, and finally an odd sort of tired amusement. “I already knew that.”

“Well, so long as you know,” she said, checking his clock on the desk. “I have Prefect duty.”

“I hope you are using that time wisely,” Professor Snape said, not finishing the thought. Making progress on your father’s assignment for you. 

This time, it was Evanna’s turn not to respond. 

Harry POV 

Harry had not quite known what to expect when Dumbledore decided to personally oversee his training, but watching a young Voldemort have all his possessions burnt by the Headmaster was not what he was expecting. He had been reminded uncomfortably of all the toys he would hide away from Dudley and Dudley’s gang, also in a shoebox in a hidden corner of his cupboard. He was suddenly grateful that Hagrid had been the one to present Harry with his Hogwarts letter.

“I had a feeling, even then, though I had no idea how far things would go,” Dumbledore was musing. “There was something off about Tom, a lack of empathy for those who had caused him harm--”

“I had a box like that,” Harry murmured, almost to himself. 

“I’m sorry, m’boy?” Dumbledore said, having not heard what Harry said. 

“I had a box like that,” he said. “When I was a kid. Full of Dudley’s toys and things I had nicked from his gang at school--and I hid it in my cupboard, under my mattress.”

Dumbledore frowned, looking thoughtful. “I don’t quite understand--”

“And you say Riddle left children in a cave? Killed their pet when they excluded him?” Harry demanded. He had not initially understood why he had been so upset in that memory, but things were becoming clearer to him now. “I didn’t know it was me at the time, but I cause the monkey bars to break while Piers Polkiss was sitting on them--he broke his arm! I loosed a python on my cousin and locked him in a snake tank! Hell--I blew up my aunt and sent her floating across London three years ago!”

“My boy, if this is your worry about being like Voldemort again--”

“I am like him,” Harry said. For once, the thought did not worry him or send him into a spiral of self-loathing. “I am an orphan--just like him.”

Dumbledore seemed to not have anything to say to that, so Harry continued. 

“I was an orphan, living with people who did not care if I lived or died, just like Tom Riddle. I begged you to not make me go back to the Dursleys--Tom Riddle did the same when he opened the Chamber! I got jealous of everything they gave to Dudley and those toys I stole--he didn’t give a damn about them! But I did! It was all I had.”

“Harry, I believe you have missed the point,” Dumbledore said slowly. “I know you had a hard upbringing--I had hoped that this summer with Sirius would have helped to soothe some of those wounds--but you are not Tom Riddle. There was something dark in Lord Voldemort from the beginning--likely why the boy was Sorted into Slytherin and you into Gryffindor--”

“I asked,” Harry said lowly. For once, he did not feel ashamed of that fact. “I asked to be Sorted into Gryffindor. The Hat wanted me in Slytherin.”

Violet eyes flashed in Harry’s mind. “And not all Slytherins become monsters anyway,” Harry continued, his anger growing enough to set the small spindly instruments in Dumbledore’s office. “The biggest difference that I can see between eleven year old Voldemort and myself is that Hagrid brought me a birthday cake, while you burnt his belongings.”

For the first time, Harry saw genuine anger and frustration flash in Dumbledore’s eyes that was directed at him. But, unlike when Harry had first arrived to Hogwarts and been so impressed by Dumbledore, he found he really did not care. 

“So what will you do with this information, Harry?” Dumbledore asked. “Let your parents’ murderer continue his campaign of terror?”

It was then that several of the spindly instruments on Dumbledore’s shelves again shattered. Dumbledore rose an eyebrow.

“Are we to make a tradition of you destroying my belongings when you come to my office, Harry?” 

“I know the prophecy,” Harry asserted. “I know either he kills me or I kill him. I know Voldemort has to be stopped.”

“Then why torture yourself with thin similarities, my boy?” Dumbledore asked, more gently than he had in awhile. 

Harry dug his nails into his palms. There were many things he wanted to say. Why show him this in the first place? Why not show him how to fight? Why not tell him the prophecy until the summer? Why had Dumbledore not confronted Tom Riddle long before the prophecy was even made?

“I think… I think I need to be done for tonight,” he said. “I’m supposed to meet with Sirius any way.”

Something dark flickered over Dumbledore’s face at the mention of Harry’s godfather, but it was gone so quickly that Harry wasn’t altogether sure that he had seen it. 

“Give him my regards,” was all Dumbledore said before allowing Harry out of his office. Harry waited until he rounded the corner before he called for Dobby. 

“What is Master Harry needing from Dobby?” the elf asked, looking far too excited. 

“It’s just Harry--and--can you get a message to a student without anyone else seeing?”

“Of course Dobby can, who is Harry Potter--”

Harry grabbed a piece of parchment and a nearly dull quill from his bag before scrawling a quick note-- Thursday, 9 pm, the place only we can go --and passed it along to Dobby. “Can you take that to Evanna Malfoy?”

Dobby wrung his ears. “Young Mistress Evanna is most dangerous, Harry Potter, she is--”

Harry did his best not to become annoyed with the elf. “You have been around her in years, Dobby. She is not like the other Malfoys--”

“Dobby knows this Mas--Harry, but she is not--”

“Can you take it to her without being seen or not?”

“Dobby should not be doing so, but Dobby is able, yes.”

“Will you?” Harry said, his voice coming out as almost pathetically desperate. “Please, Dobby. For me.”

“Dobby will do anything for Harry Potter, great friend of elves, but Dobby is just trying warn Harry Potter about his old young mistress, yes--”

“You and everyone else,” Harry all but growled. “Thank you Dobby.”

The elf nodded sharply and disapparated. That done, Harry hurried on to Sirius’ office, not bothering to knock on his godfather’s door. Sirius had made sure that all of the wards around his office and quarters admitted Harry at any time, declaring that wherever his home was, so was Harry’s.

Sirius was on his couch, reading a letter, when Harry burst in.

“Prongslet! Was I expecting you tonight?” he said. 

“No,” Harry said, somewhat glumly. “Who’s that from?”

“Moony--says he’s as safe as he can be in Greyback’s camp,” Sirius frowned. Harry did, too. This summer Dumbledore had sent Remus back to the camp of the werewolf who had bitten him in the first place. Harry could not help but feel that incredibly unfair, for all Remus had assured him that Dumbledore thought it for the ‘greater good’. “I thought you were training with the Headmaster this evening?”

“I was,” Harry grunted as he flopped onto the couch beside his godfather. “I left early.”

“Should I even ask why?” Sirius asked, pulling out his wand and pointing it toward his Cooling Cabinet. Two butterbeers floated their way toward the pair. Harry muttered a ‘thanks’ and popped the lid off, not looking at Sirius or bothering to answer his question. The two passed several minutes in silence. 

“Why didn’t Dumbledore ever face Voldemort himself?” Harry asked. “Before the prophecy was made, I mean. Why didn’t he ever just--”

“Wipe the noseless bastard off the face of the earth?” Sirius finished. “Honestly, I thought he always felt guilty for not doing anything to help when Voldemort was at Hogwarts.”

“Well, he sure did not learn from his mistakes,” Harry grumbled. 

“What is that comment supposed to mean?” Sirius demanded, turning to more carefully study his godson. “Harry?”

Harry found himself spilling the whole tale, despite Dumbledore’s admonishment to not share his lessons just yet. For the first time, he found himself also willingly explaining to Sirius his own childhood with the Dursleys and how he had felt pity toward Voldemort after seeing even a glimpse of his childhood in the orphanage. There was a certain amount of amazement in Sirius’ face when Harry finished his convoluted tale. 

“What?” Harry demanded. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” Sirius shook himself. “Your capacity for forgiveness and empathy will never not amaze me, Harry. And I am so sorry that this world forced you to grow up so fast and that we did not end this war before it became your burden.”

“It’s o--”

“No, Harry. It’s not,” Sirius told him seriously. “Should you wish it, I am still wholly prepared to take you to some corner of the world that Voldemort cannot touch--give you at least a little of the childhood your parents dreamed for you.”

Harry frowned. “My friends--I can’t. I could never do that, Padfoot.”

Sirius just smiled sadly. “I know. But an old dog can wish.”

Chapter Text

Evanna counted down the minutes until Thursday when she would finally get to see Harry since returning to Hogwarts. It was stupid, she knew, but she had kept the little note that her old house elf had delivered to her just as she had been about to step into the Prefect’s bath. She had screamed and immediately clutched her robe tighter to her, but Dobby seemed just as disapproving of her and Harry’s relationship as everyone else.  

When the night finally arrived, Evanna felt alive with energy. She could barely keep herself in her seat through dinner and only calmed when Theo sent her a curious look from his seat across the table from her. She quickly poured herself some pumpkin juice and found an excuse to get out of the Great Hall early. As she left, she caught Harry’s eye at the Gryffindor table and her cheeks heated as he smirked at her. 

Before Myrtle was able to say a word to her, Evanna had already slipped down the tunnel to the Chamber of Secrets. 

“ Massster !” Del exclaimed in excitement as Evanna made her way into the Chamber. The basilisk respectfully kept her eyes squeezed shut as Evanna stroked her nose. 

“ I’m sssssorry, friend, ” Evanna hissed back. “ I’ve been watched sssssincce returning to Hogwartssss .”

“ Massster should bite the watcherssss, ” Del responded. “ Show them your power .”

“ They report to a ssssspeaker more powerful than me ,” Evanna admitted, scratching the snake beneath the chin. “ The other sssspeaker at Hogwartsssss will be down ssssoon--will you lead him to Sssssalazar’ssss old room? ”

Del grumbled, but agreed as Evanna made her way to the room, immediately pointing her wand at the fireplace as it always tended to be on the chilly side in the Chamber. She was warming her hands at it when Harry finally stepped in. 

“I guess the twins were right--Slytherin really was the first agorapho--”

Evanna did not allow him to finish whatever stupid thing he had been about to say as she instead reached up and kissed him. He pressed one hand around her waist and tangled the other in her hair, pulling her impossibly close so that she could feel every quidditch-hardened muscle. When she finally pulled away for air, Harry had a somewhat loopy grin on his face. Evanna giggled at the sight. 

“It’s been more than a week since the Sorting,” Harry said, a small pout to his lips. Evanna smiled.

“Did that greeting not make up for the delay?” she asked coyly. 

Harry smirked. “Not quite,” he said, his voice taking on a slightly growling quality that sent electricity down Evanna’s spine. 

“I can’t believe you actually convinced Dobby to bring your message to me,” she said. “He was always terrified of me growing up--not that I ever did anything to the little bugger, but--”

“Do you really want to be discussing a house-elf right now?” Harry asked, trailing his fingers up and down her arms. 

“Have you got something better in mind?”

Harry smirked and it was a good thing he was already holding her, because Evanna’s knees felt like jelly as he again swept her into a kiss. For a moment, they weren’t pawns in this war that could end their world. Instead, they were just any other teenaged couple, sneaking away from everyone to be wrapped up in one another. When they finally felt like talking, Evanna spread a blanket by the fireplace while Harry grabbed a few pillows for them to sit on. 

“I knew your father had grown up in an orphanage,” Harry said without preamble. “I didn’t realize his childhood was so similar to mine.”

Evanna sat up, frowning, eyes roving Harry’s face even as he stared into the fire, not looking back at her. 

“He’s who you meant, right? When you told me that you didn’t approve of Dumbledore sending magical children to be mistreated by muggles?”

Evanna chewed on her lip. “To be truthful, Harry, in that moment, I meant you.”

Harry snorted and looked down. “Dumbledore showed me some memories of Tom Riddle in the orphanage. He… he reminded me of myself.”

The equal will escape into the night….

Something in Evanna shuddered. She grabbed Harry’s face and forced him to look at her. “Harry, listen to me. You are nothing like my father.”

"The prophecy called me his equal, Ev," Harry said in a quiet voice. 

Evanna shut away the memory of the prophecy Trelawney had given her just a few months previous. Her mother--Narcissa--had always been disdainful of divination, claiming the only true prophecies were of the self-fulfilling sort. 

“You’re not ,” she said sternly. “You are a sixteen-year-old Gryffindor with a flair for dramatics with hair that makes girls swoon. My father…. My father is something else entirely. If showing you these memories has caused you to doubt your own goodness, Dumbledore never should have shown them to you.”

“It’s the first time he has done anything to train me. Wouldn’t a good Slytherin say it’s best to know your enemy?” Harry said. 

“We prefer to have our information be a little more current than fifty years ago,” Evanna said dryly. “And given you are snogging his heir…”

Harry smirked. “You like my hair?” he said with a mischievous grin. Evanna blushed. 

“I said it makes girls swoon--I am hardly like other girls--I’m the heir of--”

“You like my hair,” he said with a boyish grin that made Evanna’s knees go wobbly. 

“You’re insufferable, Hary Po--” she squeaked as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close once more. 

The next day, Evanna found it hard to focus on anything but figuring out when next she would be able to visit the chamber with Harry. She jumped when Bridget grabbed her arm before she was able to walk into a Hufflepuff seventh year. 

“Merlin, I’ve been trying to talk to you since we left potions,” Bridget said as the Hufflepuff gave her a dirty look. She sneered back at him. “Where is your head?”

“Sorry, just preoccupied today,” Evanna said, forcing herself back down to earth. “What were you trying to say?”

Bridget studied her for a moment. “Think you could help me with that potions essay? Everything that Professor Slughorn says goes in one ear and right out the other. Though I’m no longer sure if you’re the one I should ask.”

Evanna snorted. “You think I ever listen to him?” 

“Not really, but you’ve always been Professor Snape’s favorite for a reason,” Bridget pushed. 

“I suppose I’ve some time before dinner,” Evanna said. Without even discussing it, the two girls made their way to the Castle Centre, where they had spent the majority of their time since second year. Evanna smiled to see Luna hanging upside down from one of the hammocks as soon as they walked in, reading a Quibbler.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just turn the magazine upside down?” Bridget asked.

“But there are so many benefits to allowing all your blood to flow to your brain, and with the wrackspurts in such high numbers in the fall, I have to take any advantage I can get!” 

“Trelawney still discounting every prediction you make?” Evanna asked, easily translating the Lovegood-ese. Predictably, Luna gave a little irritated huff, the normally airy quality to her voice sharpening.

“If the good professor would just do away with all different things she tries to burn in her classroom, her aura would clear and she may be able to make true prophecies!”

Evanna didn’t say anything, remembering her own ill-fated visit to the Divination teacher’s tower. Perhaps it was a good thing that her aura remained clouded most of the time. Evanna cleared her throat and turned to Bridget. 

“So remind me what the essay is about today?” 

The three girls worked companionably for a while, Luna eventually flipping down gracefully from her perch to also receive help on the essay. Evanna had definitely missed her time amongst her closest friends, away from the intrigues and simpering of the Slytherins. She found herself laughing and smiling more freely than she had all term in her Common Room. 

That is, until, the fourth member of their group made her appearance. 

Ginny Weasley stood at the door, taking in the once common scene. Evanna was the last of the three to look up. Luna jumped up, running over to the Gryffindor to tug her into the room, as though it was old times. 

“Why are the Death Eaters here, Lu?” she said harshly. Beside Evanna, Bridget seemed to swell in irritation.

“Gin, please, they are our friends--”

“No, let her say what she wants, Luna,” Bridget said. “She’s just making herself look like a judgemental arse.”

“Don’t try and deny it, Travers--if you didn’t want to be a Death Eater you would have found a way out--others have left everything behind to try and do the right thing!”

Ginny was tugging on a necklace that Evanna had not noticed on her before. The way she said it--it was as if she knew something. Something personal.

“I know you hate me now, Ginny,” Evanna said slowly, standing up from the desk and acting as though she was approaching a wounded animal. “But I need you to tell me--do you know where my brother is?”

Something like fear and then very definite anger flashed in Ginny’s brown eyes. “The fact that you are asking that, Malfoy, proves my point. C’mon, Luna, we shouldn’t be hanging around them.”

“Ginny--please--no one has told me where Draco is,” Evanna pushed. “I just want to know if he’s alright.”

Ginny paused, but did not turn around. “That tells me everything I need to know about your position in this war.”

Evanna started forward, but Bridget put a hand on her shoulder. “Let her go. Maybe it is for the best,” she said in a low voice. Evanna turned to her Hufflepuff friend, doing her best not to show just how upset she was. “You need to be more careful with who you’re seen with any way.”

Evanna looked down. “How do I do this, B?” she asked softly. “How do I choose between family and friends?”

Bridget did not answer. 

Chapter Text

Harry POV

Between captaining the quidditch team, training sessions with Padfoot, and sneaking off to the Chamber of Secrets, Harry found himself once again begging Hermione to see her Transfiguration essay before he wound up with detention from McGonagall. Hermione had rolled her eyes as she handed him the parchment and Ron also crowded around the Common Room table to see it. 

“Maybe if you would actually schedule a bit of time in your schedule for school, Harry,” she mused. 

“Why aren’t you fussing at Ron?”

“Because I have always copied every essay,” he said with a grin. “It also helps when I have familial ties with Fr--”

Ron was cut off by Hermione elbowing him sharply in the side. Harry glanced between the two and frowned, deciding that completing his essay would likely be an infinitely better use of his limited time than trying to figure out what they were talking about. But as soon as he tried to grab Hermione's essay, she slapped a hand down on it. 

"C'mon, Hermio--"

"What is it that you've been sneaking off to do, Harry?" she demanded. 

The memory of soft lips and hands lightly tugging his hair suddenly came to Harry's mind and it was all he could do not to blush as he remembered how it felt to snog his girlfriend. 

"I've been training," he said, in a voice that was a little too high-pitched to be believable. At Hermione's raised eyebrow and Ron's snort, he cleared his throat. "Really. Between Dumbledore, Sirius, and quidditch, I just haven't much time."

"And you've been sharing with Sirius whenever Dumbledore requests training?" Ron asked, a strange look on his face. 

"Yeah, that was part of the deal when Sirius let me come to Hogwarts this year."

"And quidditch? Do you ever practice without your Keeper?" Hermione pressed, gesturing to Ron. 

"Of course not--"

"Then where were you last night?" she demanded. "You said that you had training with Sirius but when we went to make sure you had gotten dinner, Sirius said he hadn't seen you at all yesterday."

Harry opened his mouth, but Hermione held up a hand. 

"We're your friends, Harry," she said, her voice equally full of admonishment and hurt. A pit of guilt opened in Harry's stomach. "You shouldn't feel like you have to lie to us. We're worried about you."

"Merlin, Mione, you sound like my mum with the guilt trip," Ron said. “She thinks that you’ve been hanging round Malfoy-ette, but not even you are that reckless, right, mate?”

“Of course not,” Harry said, lie rolling easily off his tongue. “I’m just trying to figure some things out for myself. I’m tired of being the last to know anything in this bloody war, y’know? But, Hermione, please. Snape will make sure I can’t play Saturday’s game if I don’t do well on this essay.”

Ron clapped him bracingly on the back, but Hermione continued to look suspicious as she passed him the essay.

“Just be careful, whatever you’re doing, Harry,” she said. 

“Aren’t I always?” Harry said with a grin. 

“You don’t want me to answer that question, Harry.”

Evanna POV

…Godric may not believe me, but I have seen the ways muggles can destroy each other and us. Helga’s charm over the castle will not be enough to turn away the hordes should they truly wish to destroy us. Gadel Glas can do much, but I fear until she grows to size that our most vulnerable students will not survive. ‘Tis only a matter of time before one of the mongrels reveals our secrets again….

“I have received a message from your father.”

There was an immediate hush over the Slytherin Common Room as Professor Snape said the words to Evanna. She had been going through Salazar Slytherin’s diary again, hoping there might be some secret in the books to quickly escape the castle when the time came, perhaps even to allow some of her father’s followers in to help her. 

Evanna carefully closed the ancient diary and looked up at the professor, waiting for him to give her the letter. He did not, instead gesturing for her to stand. 

“You’re presence is required tonight,” he said lowly. 

Evanna stood slowly. “What am I required for? Fighting or--”

“An event of a diplomatic nature, I am told. I do not know more details than that.”

“Give me a few moments.”

Evanna closed up her book before making her way to her dorm, ignoring the whispers of her Housemates. In her dorm room, she took a few deep breaths to center herself. She had yet to make true progress on the assignment from her father. What if he asked her about it? She began to flip through the clothing in her wardrobe, finally selecting a pair of dark, tight trousers and a white blouse with dark green hooded robes over top.

She didn’t say a word as she flounced through the Common Room, headed to Professor Snape’s office. Her mentor closed the door softly behind them. 

Evanna didn’t look back at him. “Did he seem… angry?”

“Have you done something to anger him?” 

“I’ve made very little progress on the task he assigned me,” she admitted. 

“Do you want to run?” 

“No,” Evanna said. “I was scared of Lucius for such a long time. My father gave me a way out of that. I can handle it.”

Professor Snape placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Evanna paused for a moment before grabbing a handful of floo powder and stepping into the fireplace.

“Malfoy Manor!” she said clearly. With a whoosh of green, Professor Snape’s dour face and dark office spun away. She stepped out into the grand entrance of her childhood home, brushing the smallest bit of ash off her shoulders. Her birth mother was there waiting for her. 

“The Dark Lord is going to Fenrir Greyback’s camp tonight,” Bellatrix said without preamble. “He expects you to take a leading role in the diplomatic relationships with the Dark Creatures. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Evanna said, pushing away any nerves. Fenrir Greyback was notorious, his pack vicious. All werewolves were. 

“Good. And your task?”

Her birth mother’s eyes bored into her. Evanna kept her face blank. 

“I have been mapping out secret ways in and out of the castle,” she said evenly. 

“Hmm.” Bellatrix studied her, then turned sharply on a heeled boot and lead Evanna to the courtyard where her father waited. 

“Your mother has briefed you?”

“She told me you wish me to speak to the werewolves,” Evanna said. 

“I need you to convince them of your Camelot, just as you did my Death Eaters,” her father said. “We will need the magical creatures on our side if we hope to win this war.”

“Yes, Father,” she said. Without waiting for further directions, colorful smoke gathered around her, lifting her into the sky. Her father smirked from the ground. 

“Do you have any idea where you are going?” he said.

“Camelot, of course,” she quipped. The Dark Lord shook his head in bemusement before his own black smoke lifted him into the air, higher than Evanna. 

Lupin POV

He should have realized why Greyback insisted everyone be there that night. Of course it could not have simply been the werewolf wanting to lord his power over them all, crow about how large his ‘pack’ had grown. No, it was to hear Voldemort pitch his plans for world domination. 

Voldemort had flown there, with no thestral or broom to aid him, as had a small, hooded figure who did not follow, but stood at his side. It was a distinct change from the old days, when Voldemort would arrive to the werewolf den with an entire retinue of Death Eaters trailing behind him, never at his side. 

“Looks like the tabloids got it right--the Dark Lord does have an heir,” a woman said to Remus’ side. 

The thought alone was terrifying. The proof of it, standing right in front of him… Remus repressed a shudder.

“Lycanthropes, it is time again to take arms against the forces that seek to oppress you and the Wizarding World at large!” Voldemort said. “My heir will serve as a symbol of power for our new world order!”

There were howls and shouts as Voldemort gestured for the figure at his side to step forward. As his heir did so, he lowered his hood. Only, it was a boy, as Remus had been expecting. No, the lowered hood revealed long curls of dark hair, a pale, narrow face, and… violet eyes.

“Merlin save us,” Remus muttered under his breath. 

For that was Evanna Malfoy standing up there beside Voldemort. Evanna Malfoy, who had helped Harry out of the Chamber of Secrets, who had done her best to hide in his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Evanna Malfoy, who had been mired in rumors of romance with the Boy-Who-Lived, who had helped Harry out of that maze, who had become invisible and then saved Sirius at the Ministry of Magic just a few months ago. She was the heir to Lord Voldemort. 

“For too long, we have hid our power,” Evanna was saying. “For too long, muggles have run rampant over our world, meaning that your kind has been relegated to the dark shadows of the night in the name of maintaining secrecy ,” the girl hissed the world. “But, should you join my father and I, I swear, we will return to the days of old. We will restore the legends of Camelot and you, friends, will be free to do as you wish without fear of the Ministry attacking and locking you away simply for being who you are!”

The wolves cheered again and Remus knew that there was nothing he or Dumbledore would be able to offer to convince them to the side of the Light. Not with this young witch who seemed so bright and full of promise.

Dumbledore… Did the Headmaster know? Nothing happened in Hogwarts without the old man’s knowledge. But that was not altogether true--after all, there were years that three unregisted animagi run around the grounds of Hogwarts with a werewolf without the old man’s knowledge. But, Snape. Snape surely knew who Voldemort’s heir was. And if Snape knew, then Dumbledore knew. 

And yet, Sirius had allowed Harry back to Hogwarts, despite his growing mistrust of Dumbledore’s ability and desire to keep Harry safe. For all that Remus owed to his old Headmaster, he could not help but agree that his best friend’s son had not been cared for in the way the boy ought to have been. Had Sirius known that Voldemort’s child--a child with a strange influence over Harry--he would have taken his godson abroad and never glanced back at England. 

Remus found himself ready to do the very same. 

Evanna POV

It was easy, Evanna realized, to be carried away with the adoration of cheering crowds who knew nothing of your darkest secrets and most shameful weaknesses. As the werewolves cheered for her, she stood taller than she ever had, not the abused daughter of Lucius Malfoy nor even the nervous child of the Dark Lord. No, she was the one chosen to take on the gifts of the léitheoir aigne, she was the scion of the great Salazar Slytherin, she was Morgana le Fay reborn.

Her father allowed her a few moments in the glow, before he held a hand out for her, gesturing for her to follow him. 

“You are a great orator,” he said. “You have kept up your studies of muggle and magical governments from our first summer, yes?”

“Of course, Father,” she replied. “You instructed me to.”

“That is good. Understandably, my presence does little to put people at ease,” he said, gesturing to his serpentine face. “I instill fear and reverence in my followers--you, daughter, instill hope and loyalty. We will need that as we seek to gain allies.”

“Of course, Father,” she replied. 

“I hope this will not distract you from the mission I have assigned you this year--it is vital that Dumbledore dies and you be the one to do it for our next steps,” he continued. “I would hate to have to punish my heir.”

Evanna could see her mother--Narcissa--and her friends, Ginny, Luna, and Bridget, right at the forefront of his mind. He did not have to finish his statement for her to know that Lord Voldemort would not hesitate to bring her to heel using those she loved. 

“I understand, Father,” she said. “I will not fail you.”

Chapter Text

Sirius POV

"Padfoot, you're a bloody professor, you can't just--"

Rage pounded in Sirius' ears as he stormed to the phoenix statue that guarded Dumbledore's office, Remus right behind him. Sirius barely paused as he shouted the password and ran up the stairs two at a time, banging on Dumbledore’s office. Remus grabbed his hand.

“Sirius, you need to calm--"

“I’m a godfather first, and I can do as I bloody well please when it comes to protecting my godson!” Sirius shouted, yanking his hand out of Remus’ grip to pound on the door again. “Open up, Dumbledore! I know you know Voldemort’s heir is--”

The door opened to reveal Dumbledore sitting at his desk, holding a bowl of candy. 

“Lemon drop?” he offered. 

Sirius marched in. “Evanna Malfoy is the bloody daughter of bloody Voldemort himself. Don’t lie to me and tell me you didn’t know.”

“There are many students at Hogwarts with parents who are potentially dangerous--”

“And I don’t particularly like the thought of Harry being at school with a bunch of junior Death Eaters, but bloody Voldemort’s daughter, Albus! Merlin only knows what he has taught her--what he has her doing here at Hogwarts--and you’ve just sat by and let her attend school.”

“You of all people should know I do not refuse children education due to--”

“Evanna Malfoy was playing diplomat to the werewolves tonight,” Remus cut in before Dumbledore could say something that would truly set Sirius off. “She has charmed them to her father’s side. She has become quite the master orator. It seems that he has also taught her to fly without a broom.”

Dumbledore pressed his long fingers together, one hand alive, the other only blackened flesh. “I would have thought Tom would have more interesting plans for his heir than making speeches to lycanthropes.”

“I’m taking Harry. Tonight. We’re getting the hell out of Britain. You won’t manipulate the death of another one of mine for your great game, Dumbledore,” Sirius said, spinning on his heel for the door, every intention of marching straight to Gryffindor Tower and yanking Harry out by the ear to somewhere--anywhere--safe. It took everything in him to shove aside the image of James, open-eyes and sprawled on the floor, Lily in front of a crib, red hair spilled around her like blood. 

The office door suddenly slammed in Sirius’ face. “I cannot let you do that, Sirius. Harry is too important--”

No longer willing to play games when he had too much to lose, Sirius flicked his wrist, releasing his wand from the holster on his wrist. Remus recognized the movement immediately, grabbing Sirius’ shoulders and stopping him from moving closer to Dumbledore. 

"I want the boy safe just as much as you do, Sirius," Dumbledore said, coming around the desk. "You may not believe me, but I think of Harry as a son--grandson. You are not the only who misses James and Lily." 

“Don’t,” Sirius growled. “Don’t say their names.”

“Harry is his father’s son--do you really believe he will abandon his friends to war?" Dumbledore said. "I can--find a less dangerous role for Mr Lupin if that would bring you some comfort, Sirius.”

Sirius gripped his wand more tightly, noting the new scars on his old friend’s face, scars that were not just because of normal full moons. No, these were scars from spending so much time among Greyback’s pack. 

“I am an adult, Dumbledore, I can handle myself far better than Harry can or should be expected to,” Remus said. 

“I did not mean to imply otherwise, my boy,” Dumbledore said. “I only meant perhaps it would ease Sirius to know that there was another person at Hogwarts who makes Harry’s safety the utmost priority.”

“Harry does not go near her again,” Sirius said. “I want that clear, Dumbledore.”

“They are in separate years and separate Houses,” Dumbledore said. “That should not be hard to arrange.”

Remus had his lips pursed as he looked between the two men. Sirius knew why his friend had that look on his face, but chose to ignore it as Dumbledore began making arrangements for the werewolf to have quarters inside of Hogwarts. Instead, he turned on his heel, marching out of the office and toward Gryffindor Tower. It did not take long before Remus was following behind, right on Sirius’ heels. 

“You know that Harry won’t listen to you. Not about this,” Remus said. 

“I’m his godfather,” Sirius said. 

“And Potters are notoriously loyal to those they love,” Remus said. “Even when it becomes dangerous.”

Sirius shoved away all thoughts of the rat and forged ahead, sending a Patronus to Harry to meet him in his office as he did so. Luckily, wherever Harry had been was closer to the Defense Against the Dark Arts room than Dumbledore’s office, so Sirius did not have argue further with Remus over his ill-thought out plan. 

“Sirius?” Harry said as he closed the office door. “Your Patronus sounded dire.”

“Harry, sit,” Sirius said wearily, hating that there was one more thing that his godson was losing. The boy was so good, so forgiving, so loyal--why was he the one to always lose in this war? “Remus… Remus learned some disturbing news tonight.”

Harry looked between the two men nervously. “What? Is someone hurt?”

“No, no one is hurt, pup,” Remus said gently. “Voldemort’s heir was there tonight.”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly and Sirius cursed himself for having to do this. 

“Harry--I hate to tell you this--but--” Sirius sucked in a breath, “Evanna Malfoy is Voldemort’s kid.”

Harry sat there blinking for a second, as though the news was too much to process. Sirius clapped the boy on the back. 

“For your own safety, you need to stay away from her, Harry,” he said, wincing at how much like an adult he sounded. “We don’t know what she has inherited from her father, but she is clearly his--”

“Harry, are you quite alright?” Remus interrupted. “You’ve barely moved.”

“I--”

Remus drew in a long breath through his nose and narrowed his eyes. “And you don’t seem terribly shocked by this news.”

Harry looked at his feet as Sirius stared at him in shock, a disapproving look on Remus’ face. He mumbled something that Sirius would not have heard if he had not spent nearly twelve years in his canine form. 

“She told me last January.”

Sirius had found that less and less of his time was spent wishing James and Lily were still alive since Harry had started living with him this summer. But now, he found himself wishing his friends were here so they could deal with the hormonal mess of their teenage son while Remus and Sirius laughed and gave Prongslet the keys to the good firewhiskey.

But, instead, his friends were dead and Sirius was left to be the adult. 

“Harry, are you out of your mind?” Sirius shouted. “You’ve been dating the bloody daughter of maniac who has been trying to kill you since you were born! She likely has orders to deliver you to daddy dearest!”

“You of all people know that we aren’t our parents,” Harry said, sounding far more reasonable than he had any right to be in that moment. 

“Harry, I hate to say it, but Sirius’ situation and Ms. Malfoy’s are quite different,” Remus said. “Because of Ms. Malfoy’s… involvement, the Order has no hope of persuading the werewolves to our side. They lapped up all of her lies about a new world--”

“As opposed to lapping up Dumbledore’s lies about everything being for the greater good?” Harry snapped. “Voldemort spent thirteen years in hiding--if Dumbledore wanted the werewolves on our side, maybe he should have done something sooner!”

Sirius gaped at his godson. This was worse than he had initially thought. “See? She’s obviously been influencing you--trying to make you hate Dumbledore and be more sympathetic to--”

“Ev hasn’t tried anything, or did you forget the end of last term?” Harry demanded, shaking his head. “I’ll admit that Dumbledore is the best shot we have at this war, but he lied and told me you were dead, Sirius!”

“Then why did you insist on coming back to Hogwarts?” Sirius said. “We could leave right now--get away from all of this and you could have a little of the life your parents wanted you to have--”

“I won’t leave my friends,” Harry replied. “And I won’t leave Evanna.”

“You two are fighting on the opposite side of a war, Harry,” Remus said slowly. “You won’t be able to keep this up forever.”

“I don’t care,” Harry said. Sirius opened his mouth to interject, but his godson plowed on. “Fate or whatever you want to call it has taken enough from me. It’s not taking her. And neither will you.”

It was the first time since their disastrous first meeting that Harry had looked at his godfather with anger. Sirius could not say that he liked it. 

“Pup, we’re just trying to protect you,” he all but begged. “It is amazing how well you see the good in people, and I won’t deny that I am grateful to the girl for saving me and saving you so many times--”

“Then leave it there,” Harry said. “We’re being careful--everyone thinks we hate each other now and--”

“It won’t last, Harry,” Remus said. “Lord Voldemort is one of the greatest Legilimens in our world and you never learned Occlumency. Even if he doesn’t glean it from your mind, all it will take is for one person to see you two together and he will learn of it. He will use her as bait like he did Sirius, if he doesn’t kill her outright! Are you so eager to lose another person you love?”

Harry’s eyes flashed--not with Lily’s quick burning rage, but with James’ icy fire. Sirius had not seen such a look since he had tricked Snape into following the Marauders into the Shrieking Shack. 

“Too far, Moony,” Sirius mumbled.

“Why do you care now, Remus?” Harry demanded at the same time. “You weren’t dead--you weren’t in Azkaban--but you’ve never been there for me. Why would you care about who I lose?”

“Harry--you know my condition--”

“Wizarding laws don’t matter in the muggle world, Remus!” Harry shouted. “You didn’t have to abandon me! Don’t start acting like you care about me now!”

All three men were silent for a moment, none of them quite looking the other in the eye. Finally, Sirius opened his mouth. 

“Harry, no one ever meant to abandon--”

Harry did not seem to want to hear it, for he completely jumped over what Sirius was trying to say and began defending the Malfoy girl again.  “I am not giving up on her. She saved your life a few months ago, Sirius--surely you don’t think she’s evil?”

“Harry, it’s not about whether I think she is evil--it’s about your safety!”

“I’m in danger no matter what we do,” Harry said. “I heard the prophecy--either Voldemort dies or I die.”

Sirius shook his head. “You know that your parents never believed that rubbish and neither should--”

“That doesn’t matter--Voldemort believes and will keep coming after me, whether I’m snogging his daughter or not!”

Sirius opened and closed his mouth a few times. Harry didn’t seem to notice. 

“I’ve got quidditch practice,” he mumbled and was out the door before Sirius could stop him.

Sirius and Remus sat quietly in the Defense office for a few moments, not looking at each other as they turned over their own thoughts over and over. 

“I did try to visit him,” Remus said. “Dumbledore stopped me. Said his family would not accept any wizards nearby him, that they may decide not to keep him after all.”

“You know that James and Lily wanted him to go to you after me,” Sirius said. “They never wanted him with the Dursleys.”

“I trusted Dumbledore. He said it was the only way to keep Harry safe. Even if Wizarding law had allowed me to take him, there were times I was all but homeless--it would not have been safe--”

Sirius sighed. “I know, Remus. I just don’t know what to do about this now.”

Remus shook his head. “I can’t decide if James would have went ballistic or if he would have found this all hilariously funny while Lily cleaned up the mess. You could always take it to the papers--the parents of Hogwarts wouldn’t let a werewolf remain, they would not let--”

“I am not doing that to an innocent girl, Moony,” Sirius said dryly.

“She’s not innocent, though,” his old friend said. “We know that she has killed Lucius Malfoy--who knows who else?”

Sirius shook his head. The girl was dangerous, that was not in doubt. But he could not find it in him to do something so drastic. Whether it was because he owed the girl his life, Harry’s obviously deep feelings for her, or some familial bond that Sirius had thought long since snapped, he did not know. 

“We’ll watch them both,” Sirius said. “First sign of trouble, get your auror girlfriend--”

“Nymphadora is not--”

“Get your auror girlfriend in here and have her thrown in Azkaban,” Sirius finished. 

“Harry will never forgive you for even thinking about that,” Remus said carefully. Sirius nodded, already knowing that to be true. But, there was nothing to be done for that. He would protect James’ son, even from himself.

Chapter Text

Evanna POV

Evanna could not sleep when she returned to Hogwarts. Her mind was spinning with possibilities. Sneaking up on the old man was too risky--she was just as likely to be killed as she was to kill. She had mastered the Imperius Curse, and even had her own brand of controlling people with her mind reader magic, but she refused to involve others in this plot against their will. She had damaged too much with her once-brother to attempt it. That left poison, but surely Dumbledore would have safeguards against such thing? Then again, he was not infallable, as evidenced by whatever he had done to that burnt hand of his…

Either way, Evanna could not stay in the bed any longer. So she swung her legs off the bed and reached for her robe, fastening it tightly. The Chamber of Secrets was not only where she would rendezvous with Harry; it was her lab, her center of operations. Salazar Slytherin had been a great wizard in every sense of the word--perhaps he would have a poison suitable for killing the most powerful Light Wizard of her time. 

Evanna made it as far as the entrance hall before she ran into anyone. Professor Black, despite what he may have wished, bore a strong resemblance to her birth mother especially when he looked angry. Evanna froze as his glare landed on her. After a moment, she did her best to wrap her robe more tightly around her, lowering her head. She was a prefect, perfectly within her rights to be out past curfew, and Professor Snape would simply restore any points--

“Walking in the moonlight, Ms Malfoy?” Professor Black demanded. “You aren’t perchance on your way to meet someone?”

Evanna turned on her heel, heart pounding. “Not at this hour, Professor.”

“Strange. Harry is no where to be found in Gryffindor Tower,” he said. 

“I don’t know what that has to do with--”

In a moment, Professor Black had her back against the stone wall, wand digging into her skin. 

“I know who you are--I know where you were tonight,” he hissed. “If you think I will allow you to hurt Harry--”

“Professor, I would never-- I saved you --”

“For what purpose?” Professor Black demanded. “I know the family that raised us--I know what they do to the souls of seemingly innocent children--you will not--”

“I won’t!” 

A wall of magic burst from Evanna, shoving the professor, her cousin, back. She glared at him viciously. “I won’t! I have saved Harry again and again! No matter who raised me--who sired me--I will continue to do so! I would give up all of it--everything--if I thought he would be safer! He--he is my heart!”

Professor Black searched her face, seeming shocked at her display and admittance. 

“You really mean that,” he said. “For now, you mean that. But apparently you do not care enough about him to do the one thing that would make him safer.”

“And what would that be?”

“Staying away from him,” Sirius ground out. “He won’t do it. He’s too noble. But, you are from Black stock. We are a different sort.”

Evanna scoffed. “Have you met your godson? I told him my parentage and that didn’t keep him away for long. How exactly do you think I could keep Harry James Potter from doing exactly as he wishes?”

Professor Black’s scowl deepened and Evanna did her best not to flinch when he punched the wall in the manner of a much younger male. 

I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him too. 

Evanna had to fight to not be swept away by the man’s grief and fear. 

“I’m still the girl who saved you, Professor,” she murmured. “I won’t hurt him. I can’t.”

“But will you save him?” 

Professor Black did not give her a chance to answer before he shook his head and said, “Mind you get to your dorm before curfew, Ms Malfoy.”

Evanna did not have a chance to respond before he had all but disappeared from the hall. She shook herself. She had work to do else she would never again have the opportunity to save Harry. A poison. A poison would have to work, surely.

Over the next week, Evanna spent more and more time in her ancestor’s Chamber of Secrets study, ignoring even when the wards told her that Harry was trying to seek her out. Professor Black’s words floated around her head even as Evanna tried her best to brew the most advanced potion she had ever made. 

Even if she did manage to brew it correctly, how would she gain access to the Headmaster? Of course, she was secretly dating the Boy Who Lived, who Dumbledore was desperate to bring back into the fold…. But Evanna could not, would not do that to him. It was already likely enough that Harry would forever hate her after this. But, perhaps there was someone else. And maybe, just maybe, it would be a good thing to have someone else who had one foot on either side of an ever-widening gap. 

“I need Draco back,” Evanna finally demanded of Narcissa as she again failed at her attempt to concoct a brew to kill Dumbledore. “He is better than me at brewing.”

“Need I remind you that I am--was the potions master?” Professor Snape said wryly. 

“You are trusted by neither side, Professor,” Evanna said. “You cannot afford to be helping me any more than I can afford to allow it. But, Draco is still thought to be loyal. I can protect him if he returns and aids me.”

“And what exactly is it that you need such help on? What has the Dark Lord demanded of you?” Narcissa said, a tad hysterically. 

“It is safer you do not know.”

“And yet you wish to lead your brother into it,” she said.

“I wish my brother come to join my side before Father begins to question his absence.”

“Draco is studying alchemy,” Professor Snape said. “Not potions.”

Evanna hardly had to reach for the answer. “Egypt. You sent the palest wizard to walk this earth to Cairo?”

Narcissa looked ready to scream but just barely managed to contain herself. “Your brother will not return just because you demand it Evanna. He is smarter than that.”

“He supposedly still loyal to my father. Just how long do you think he can escape that? If he comes back now, while I am still in good standing and helps me in this--he’ll be safe. He’ll be more than safe--he’ll gain high position, higher than Lucius ever had.”

Narcissa pursed her lips. 

“Please, Mother,” Evanna begged. “I will find a way without you. You know I will.”

“His apprenticeship is coming to an end, Cissa,” Professor Snape said. “We would have had to find a new excuse anyhow. Perhaps keeping the children together…”

She turned into him, breathing in deeply through her nose as though to calm herself. 

“You know where he is now, milady,” she said in a voice like cool marble. “If you recall him and he answers, I suppose there is nothing I can do about it.”

The pain in Narcissa’s voice made it difficult for Evanna to look the older woman in the eye, even as Professor Snape tried and failed to convince Narcissa to stay long enough for the witches to make up. Evanna looked at the floor until she was sure that the burning behind her eyes would not result in tears. Finally, she looked up at Professor Snape.

“I fear by the end of this war I will have turned everyone who ever loved me into an enemy,” Evanna said, staring at a small doe figurine that Professor Snape had on his bookshelf, utterly at odds with his dour personality. 

“From experience, those who truly love us, never stop hoping we find our way home,” Professor Snape said.

“Am I wrong, calling for Draco?”

“He was never going to escape this war indefinitely, and your mother knows this. She is just disappointed that she cannot keep her children safe,” Professor Snape said, placing a hand on her shoulder and making her look at him. “Do what you can to keep you both safe, Evanna. Whatever task the Dark Lord gave you… I have every faith you can accomplish it.”

Somehow that reassurance did not settle Evanna’s nerves.

DRACO POV

Dear brother,

I hope Egypt has treated you well and you have learned more than enough. Hogwarts grows ever so boring without you here and I must admit, with our new Potions Master, I must beg your tutelage. I am prepared to demand if need be, but given my best friend has thrown me over for a sixth year Gryffindor, I am sure you must be just as anxious to be back in the UK as I am.

Hope to see you soon, brother.

Evanna Malfoy

Draco cursed at the letter, whose neat green handwriting and thick creamy paper he had immediately recognized it and known that his time in Cairo was past. But, Evanna was being so careful to emphasize their relationship, to even reference Ginny… she was desperate. Not just desperate, but terrified. 

What had happened?

Draco had always chosen to ignore his little sister’s fear. It was so much easier to be jealous of the extra training she was receiving, not the punishment that came alongside it. Having now experienced fear without near the punishment that Evanna had, he found himself wanting to forget all she had done since becoming the Dark Lord’s daughter and instead wanting to be the big brother he ought to have been. 

“You are leaving, aren’t you?” Auset asked. The shop girl had been delivering a rare amulet to the university and had made sure to bring Draco some zalabia--a sort of donut type dessert--as she did so. 

“What makes you say that?” 

Auset did not have purple eyes like his once-sister; no, she had lovely, deep brown eyes surrounded by dark kohl. Yet, she seemed to have the same eerie ability to read his mind. 

“Is that not a letter from home?” she said, leaning toward him. He got a strong sniff of frankincense and cinnamon, but quickly pulled the parchment away.

“My sister claims to need my help,” he said. 

“I thought you had no brother or sister?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Do wizards not tell the truth about trivial matters where you’re from?”

“No--I mean--yes--”

“So who--?”

“I suppose we were really cousins,” Draco admitted. “But I thought she was my sister.”

“Hmmm,” Auset said. “Strange country, England. I would ask my baba for help long before I asked my brother. Or cousin .”

“Mine is dead,” Draco said, his stomach twisting on itself. “Hers is….”

He thought it best not to describe the Dark Lord, even a continent away. 

“So, do you answer her call?” she said. Draco glanced at the letter and then at Auset. With a whisper and a flick of his wand, the letter burst into flames. 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Perhaps not yet.”

Auset smiled brightly at him. “You’ve still much to learn, yes?”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “And friends I’d rather not leave.”

Evanna could wait, after all she had done. As for Ginny… well they had always been doomed from the start. Hadn’t they?

Chapter Text

The Slytherin-Gryffindor quidditch game found Evanna in the Restricted Section of the library, researching to find ways into Dumbledore’s office that he may not catch her immediately. Of course, her mind kept floating to her brother’s response, rather, his lack of response. Evanna had not expected Draco to write  immediately, but certainly within a fortnight. And with Draco back in the country, perhaps Evanna might gain an audience with the Headmaster and with an audience with the Headmaster….

She still was not the better duelist. Maybe one day, with the training she was receiving from her father, but for all her power, Evanna was not even of age yet. Dumbledore had a century of power within him, even her father….

Even her father was afraid of Dumbledore. 

Her father was terrified of the man--everyone knew it--but he had assigned his heir to be Dumbledore’s assassin. The man who was supposed to have been her savior from Lucius was sending her out like a lamb to be slaughtered while he stayed perfectly safe behind the walls of Malfoy Manor. And she was no longer the same terrified girl he presented to the Death Eaters; no, she had seen more, done more. She had fallen in love with the teenage boy her father wanted to kill. 

Merlin, she was in a mess. 

As the hour grew later, the library remained empty. Presumably, the game was over, but on a Friday evening students would be going to celebrate the winner or commiserate with the losers, not finding study time. Evanna found herself grateful to be away from it; though she had gained more control over her powers through the years, post quidditch the Common Room was always a headache.

Why should she be here, researching to kill a man she had no hope of killing? She was still young, even with the headache her powers may bring, she ought to be celebrating her youth with her Housemates, sneaking chocolates from the kitchen, or finding sweet stolen moments with her boyfriend. Perhaps it would be better to allow her father to enact his wrath when he grew tired of how long she was taking, and simply enjoy life until then… There was little hope of her survival. Narcissa had been hidden away from a dangerous man before, surely she could hide again…

“I saw you all alone on the map,” a voice came from behind. Evanna jumped, turning to see Harry, still in his quidditch uniform. Any other time, she might have chastised him for approaching her, but she was tired of it all.

“And? Who won?” she asked. Harry gave her a cheeky little grin and held his hand open to reveal a Golden Snitch. Evanna rolled her eyes and turned back to her book dramatically.

“What? No congratulations?”

“I am a Slytherin, Harry, in every sense of the word,” Evanna grumbled. Despite her annoyance (for she could not help her loyalty to the silver and green), Evanna found it quite difficult to tear her eyes from the way Harry looked in his quidditch leathers. From the smirk on his face, Harry did not need to be a mind reader to know what was going through her mind. 

“Like what you see?” 

“I am merely perplexed as to why anyone would willingly wear red and gold. It is garish.”

“I think you would look lovely in my red and gold,” Harry said, his eyes dark in a way she had not seen before. Something swooped low in Evanna’s stomach. She coughed, trying to dislodge the sudden tightness in her throat. 

“Oh? And what makes you think I would ever do such a thing?” she said lightly. Harry took a step towards her, grabbing her book and tossing it over his shoulder. It thunked softly on the rug. Harry leaned closer to her and Evanna was not able to resist being the first to reach up and press her lips tightly to his. He had become so confident with her, his fingers trailing from her face to her neck, her robe slipping from her shoulder as she pressed her hands to the hard muscle beneath his quidditch leathers. If only she could spend every moment lost in Harry’s kiss, she might forget the rest of the world even existed…

“Oh, Merlin!”

Harry all but leapt away from Evanna. Her heart pounded in her throat as her mind whirled with how she might get out of this, how she might hide her mistakes, when she finally registered the bright red hair and freckled skin. This was even worse than she had feared. 

Ginny.

“Gin, don’t--”

“Don’t ‘Gin’ me, Harry James Potter, not when you’re snogging a Death Eater!”

“I am not a Death Eater--”

“And you!” Ginny rounded on Evanna and almost at the same moment, both former best friends had their wands pointed at one another. 

“I would put the wand down, Ginevra,” Evanna said mildly even as her heart pounded in her ears. 

“Not helping, Ev,” Harry muttered. No matter how attractive that was. Evanna smirked at the thought that was clear as day from her boyfriend. 

“And what exactly do you plan to do, Malfoy?” Ginny hissed. Evanna saw it in her eyes a millisecond before she began to say the spell. “ Vola-- ”

Just as her father had taught her, Evanna reacted silently and ruthlessly, whipping her wand in a complicated motion that had Ginny wrapped in invisible ropes from her ankles to her mouth, lifting her slightly in the air. Muffled grumbles came from Evanna’s former best friend as she struggled against her bonds. Harry stepped between them, green eyes wide. 

“Ev, love,” he said in a low voice that funny things to her stomach as they came from his kiss-swollen lips. “Please put her down.”

“She tried to hex me,” Evanna said darkly. “I do not take kindly to being attacked, especially when I have done nothing wrong.”

“I don’t like it either, but still,” Harry pleaded. “She was your friend once. Beyond that, we are bound to get caught if we don’t explain things to her.”

“I am plenty capable of erasing her memory,” Evanna growled, hoisting her wand higher. Ginny scowled at her, beginning a jabbing motion with her wand that Harry stepped in front of. 

“Ginny! She is not a Death Eater!”

“Have you checked her arm lately--she’s been awful covered up--”

“I wear the Hogwarts uni--”

“I’ve seen a lot more than--”

“Potter!” Evanna growled. Harry had the audacity to smirk even as Evanna felt her face flush crimson. 

“She doesn’t agree with her father, Ginny,” Harry said. Evanna froze as Ginny scoffed. 

Harry, what the hell? Evanna pushed the thought in his direction. 

Do you trust me?

Evanna had so rarely trusted anyone. So few had told her the truth about the most important things, and more had hurt her in unspeakable ways. But, Harry? He was honest to a fault, and so kind even when he had more reason than most to loathe her. 

Always. But don’t do anything rash.

I would never. Honest and kind, but not self aware evidently. 

“She killed her father, Potter, but that given it was with Voldemort’s blessing, so I fail to see your point,” Ginny scoffed. 

“You don’t have the full story, Gin,” Harry gave Evanna a meaningful look. 

If you’re wrong about this, Harry….

She could be what you need to break out on your own, make a difference, he thought back to her. She could be how we survive this, Ev. It can’t just be us against the world. 

Weasleys are not known for subtlety, Harry. I could wind up in Azkaban instead. Or worse.

If it seems to go that way, Obliviate her. 

“I question more every day why you weren’t in Slytherin, Potter,” Evanna grumbled, finally lowering her her wand, though she did not sheathe it. “Lucius Malfoy was not my father, Ginny.”

Ginny’s eyes went wide as she took in Evanna, looking her up and down. “The rumors are true? Professor Snape--”

Harry snorted. “I’d never get to leave detention if that was true. I’d probably be poisoned.”

“You say that as if you aren’t being actively hunted by my father as it is,” Evanna replied, rolling her eyes while monitoring Ginny’s reaction carefully. 

“No offense, Ev, but as it stands, I am beating your father zero to--” Harry began sticking out fingers because apparently her boyfriend was enough of an idiot to count the number of times he had escaped death while they were flirting with it actively. 

Ginny’s eyes went wide. “You’re his heir. Voldemort’s. That’s why you didn’t join us--”

“She did,” Harry cut Ginny off, his tone all of a sudden deadly serious. “She saved Sirius, but no one could know. She’s the same Evanna we’ve always known.”

Evanna was not so sure of that. She was a murderer. She had lead murderers, freed them from their prison. She was plotting the death of the one wizard who could truly stand against her father. 

“Why didn’t you--” 

“Tell you?” Evanna snorted. “Why would I tell anyone? I’m in Dumbledore’s school. He ignored Lucius abusing me for years. And there is no family more loyal to Dumbledore than the Weasleys.”

Ginny winced. 

“My father is who he is,” Evanna said. “It’s true the Wizarding World needs to change, desperately, but the way he goes about it…. I feel like either side is ready to kill me at any moment.”

Harry’s hand slid into her own and squeezed it tightly. 

Bloody over my dead body.  Ice coated Evanna’s heart. 

Don’t even think that, Harry.

Ginny’s eyes were locked on Evanna and Harry’s hands. Then she did something entirely unexpected. 

She smacked Harry in the head. 

“Oi!” 

“And you’re dating her?” Ginny shrieked. “Damnit, Harry, your whole thing is being self-sacrificial and you’re snogging her knowing she will be killed in some horrific way--”

“It’s my choice, too!” Evanna said. “You don’t get to go half a year without speaking to me--”

Ginny rounded on her. “And you idiot are snogging him in the library where anyone could see and tell your--”

“The Slytherins are loyal to me,” Evanna said haughtily. 

“Aren’t you the one always on about that Slytherin isn’t the only House with Death Eaters?” Ginny scoffed. “And we could never have a Death Eater in disguise among the staff--oh, wait--”

“Why do you even care? I thought I was just some coward--”

“Damnit, you’ve always been my best friend, even when we both are idiots!”

Evanna paused, mouth agape, even as words began to tumble from Ginny’s mouth. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I was just so hurt and confused and I knew you were keeping secrets and I should have known there was a good reason for it, especially after everything you’ve been through, and you bloody saved my life second year and you’ve always been a better friend to me than I have to you--”

“That’s not true, I lied to you for over a year about who I am--”

“You were scared--I can’t imagine finding out something like that--”

“But I’ve known you since first year! I should have known that you would never--”

“I wouldn’t! But it’s okay--you told me now--”

“I’m so sorry--”

“No, I’m so sorry--”

Somehow, the girls had turned into a crying heap, holding onto one another in the barrage of apologies while Harry watched in utter confusion. 

“Er--I’m happy you’re happy and all--but we are still in the library and this is not exactly the most private spot--”

The girls slowly gathered themselves, wiping noses and eyes and helping each other up. Ginny held onto Evanna tightly still, as though everything might come crumbling down again if she let go. 

“So what is the plan?” Ginny said after a moment. “There is a plan, right?”

Evanna and Harry exchanged glances. 

“Not to die?” Harry said. 

Ginny huffed. “I’m ignoring you. Evanna?”

“I don’t know--”

“You aren’t some sadist trying to take over the Wizarding World, yes?” Ginny said. “But I know you--you won’t help Dumbledore. So, what is the plan?”

“There isn’t one,” Evanna said quickly. Too quickly, because Ginny raised an eyebrow. Evanna’s shoulders slumped and she knew it was time. “But there is a prophecy. Another prophecy.”

Both Gryffindors gave her identical looks of shock.

Chapter Text

Madame Pince seemed to have realized then that Evanna told both of them to meet her in the Room of Requirement at midnight and she would explain all she knew. It had to be obvious to the Slytherins that she was nervous about something for she could not seem to settle herself in the Common Room. 

“My lady, these rugs are very ancient. It would be a shame if you wore holes in them,” Theo said on her third pass of the Common Room. 

“Hmm?” 

“You are scaring everyone, Evanna. You need to sit down,” he said a little more plainly. She narrowed her eyes. 

“You’re being impertinent, Nott,” she said lightly. 

“I would think we would be past that with a fake betrothal,” he replied. 

“Given how my father expected our dynamic when it was not fake, I do not understand why,” Evanna replied, nose in the air. Nott righted himself. 

“My apologies, then, lady,” he said stiffly. “Though I still believe it best that you try to sit. You’ve got the firsties terrified with that look on your face.”

Evanna sighed and perched on a nearby wingback chair, tapping her fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair as she watched the time ticked slowly on the grandfather clock in the corner of the Common Room. 

“Ah, yes, that will definitely calm the firsties,” Theo said wryly. She glared at him. “Care to tell me what is so terrible? Maybe I could help.”

“Oh? You, help?”

“Yes, Evanna,” he said. “Despite how we ended things, I am loyal to you.”

I’d much rather pledge my loyalty to her than the raving madman that is her father. 

And there it was again. Her generation was scared of her father, not loyal. They would go along with him out of fear of their lives, but as soon as something was greater than their fear, would they stick around?

Would she?

“Theo, tread carefully,” she said, though this time, there was no threat to her voice, only concern.

Theo lowered his voice. “The children of Slytherin know who it was that rescued their fathers and mothers from Azkaban. She is who they are loyal to.”

“I am loyal to my father,” Evanna said. Theo looked her square in the face. 

“Then your liaison with Potter is a ruse?” he mused. “No, it’s not.”

“My father rescued me.”

“Then why, this year, are you as scared as the rest of us?” he pushed. “You have people in your corner, Evanna. Yours . Do not ignore that.”

“You’re getting bolder, Theo,” Evanna said. 

“And you’re getting more powerful. And,” he added as an afterthought, “as sane as one can be fancying a Gryffindor .”

Theo went on his way after that, though Evanna studied the faces of the other Slytherins in the room. Several met her eyes and lowered their heads to her in a sign of respect. 

…the hope of our world….

…maybe I won’t die over her…..

….can’t imagine she would torture me like my brother was…..

A chill went down Evanna’s spine, even as a thought, a very dangerous, treasonous thought came to her…

She could be her own general in this war. 

The thought haunted her as she made her way to the Room of Requirement where Harry and Ginny were waiting for her. Ginny, as Evanna had known she would be, was a ball of energy, barely able to sit still. Harry, however, was not looking at her. 

He was hurt. 

And he had every right to be. He had been lied to about his prophecy his whole life, and to learn there was another…. But Evanna still did not understand what Trelawney had told her; she could not begin to fathom what it would mean. If it weren’t for the fact that the Divination professor very clearly did not remember the trance she had fallen into, did not remember she had uttered that prophecy, Evanna would question if it was not some sort of trap set by Dumbledore. 

“You heard a prophecy?” Ginny prompted almost immediately. 

“Yes.”

“And told no one?” Harry said, not quite making eye contact with her.

“Not a soul,” she admitted. “It was… well, it wasn’t too long after I told you about my father, Harry. He had wanted me to learn the full prophecy about you two, and instead, there was another made, though I can hardly make heads or tails of it.”

“And it was about Voldemort?” Harry said, eyes still dark.

“I believe so,” Evanna admitted carefully. 

“And me?” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“And… us. I think,” Evanna said.  

“The both of you quit being dramatic and just tell us the damned prophecy, Evanna,” Ginny groused. 

Evanna looked desperately at Harry, but he was still blank-faced. She sighed and recited what Trelawney had told her at the end of last year.  “ The child of the dark and the equal shall destroy the plans of great men…. The star shall be saved, but the moon will not stay…. Darkness's child will set the Light ablaze….. But the equal will escape into the night….”

“The hell?” Ginny said. 

“I think the star might have been Professor Black,” Evanna said slowly. “But the rest…. I don’t know.”  

Harry seemed to coming out of his sulk as he pondered the prophecy. “ The plans of great men … Dumbledore and Voldemort?”

Icy fear coated Evanna’s veins. Harry was meant to kill her father. She was meant to kill Dumbledore. But for them to foil those men’s plans…. What could that possibly mean?

“We’ll both end up dead,” Evanna said, voice cracking slightly. 

Ginny looked from Harry to Evanna, her brown eyes shining with both fear and determination. 

“I think it’s time to get Dumbledore’s Army back together,” she said. 

“I think,” Harry said slowly, taking a step toward Evanna. He was still upset, she knew, as he took her hand in his, but there was something greater there. “It’s time we gave it a new name.”

Sirius POV

Halloween had rarely been kind to Sirius Black. First, it had been the day that his family had finally learned he was in Gryffindor House and promptly sent him a Howler for the embarrassment to the great and noble line of Black. It had been the wedding day of his favorite cousin to a sadist. It had been the day he learned his little brother had taken the Dark Mark. And, finally, it had been the day that his best friend, the brother of his heart, had died. 

Somehow, his godson had been so distracted by one near death experience after another on Halloween that Harry did not seem to realize that it was the anniversary of the day he became an orphan. It wasn’t surprising, really, given Harry had been handed off to the Dursleys of all people. The lad had never even visited his once home or his parents’ grave. It was Sirius’ intention to rectify that. 

Until, of course, the owls began to swoop in with that day’s Prophet .  

Parliament Attacked! Statute of Secrecy on Verge of Collapse!

Sirius swore violently as the Great Hall received the news, a crescendo of worried voices overtaking Hogwarts. Funnily, it was not his godson that Sirius searched for first; Harry was far too used to his world being upended on Halloween. Instead, Sirius’ eyes landed on the Slytherin table, toward the center, where Evanna Malfoy (or whatever her surname was) seemed to hold court most days. Death Eater children were swarming her, but she kept directing them away with barely a wave of her hand. How had he not guessed from the beginning who she was, as soon as it had been revealed that Voldemort had an heir? The Malfoy name garnered a certain level of respect, yes, but nowhere near the deference the Slytherins were giving her. 

As Sirius was watching, the Nott boy forced his way through the throng of Slytherins and to Evanna’s side. A shout a what Sirius was sure was a mild hex later and the Slytherins had cleared long enough to let Evanna through. Bridget Travers, a Hufflepuff, met them at the doors of the Great Hall. As they left, Evanna’s strange eyes met Sirius’. He expected triumph, or maybe fear. But no. 

The Heir was angry. 

As he had so many times while a student at Hogwarts, Sirius did not take time to think before acting. He slid along the side of the Great Hall, silently casting a Disillusionment Charm over himself as he went. 

“….need to slow down….” Theodore Nott’s voice floated down the hall. 

“I should have known!”

“And what exactly would that have done?” Traver’s voice came dryly. But, the Black family temper had not bypassed Evanna. 

“I could have stopped it! This hasjeopardisedd our whole world--”

“And how, exactly, do you think you could have stopped the Dark Lord?” Bridget hissed. “You would have gotten yourself killed had you tried--”

“That’s not--”

“It is. You are a tool. One he fond of, though none had presumed him capable of the feeling, but you are a tool nonetheless,” Travers snapped.

“You are a threat, Evanna,” Theo said in a low voice. “The loyalties of the younger generation will not go unnoticed for long. And if you are perceived to have been undermining him--”

“How many?” Evanna demanded. Both the other Death Eater children looked confused. 

“How many what?” Travers asked. But Evanna was staring straight at Nott.

“The other night--what you said--how many?” she repeated. “How many’s loyalties can be trusted?”

“I--I don’t know,” Theo admitted, seeming to be taken aback. 

“Find out,” she ordered, sounding every bit a queen of old. “It is time to stop being passive in the fate of our world.”

“Evanna, have you any idea--”

“I am well aware of the danger I face,” Evanna said. She held up the Daily Prophet and smacked a hand on the burning Parliament Building. “But this puts all in danger. I cannot remain idly by.”

“I think you’ve been spending too much time with Gryffindors ,” Nott huffed.  Evanna snorted. 

“Hardly,” she said. “If muggles find out about us and are threatened by us--they have the capability to end every wizard in the world. He taught me that. He knows that. This was--”

It was then that Evanna’s eyes landed on Sirius, and then that he saw fear. How she knew he was there, he did not know, but somehow, she did.

“Find the ones you spoke of, Theo, and tell me who they are and how trustworthy. B--let me know who in the other Houses may be searching for a third option in this war,” Evanna said. “Now go before anyone get suspicious of us.”

The girl did not even watch the other students leave, instead marching straight toward him. Sirius found himself less surprised than he should have to find she had ended the Disillusionment Charm on him.

“Plan on tuning me into Dumbledore?” she said, her wand casually held at her side. He had seen her duel in class enough to know she could hold her own against him for quite some time. Perhaps even beat him if she used what he suspected she must have been taught. 

“No,” he said. “Dumbledore already knows about you. I find this so-called third option intriguing.”

Evanna flushed red. “We are blood, Professor. Though somehow I do not believe that would stop you from seeing me ended one way or another.”

“No, that would not,” Sirius admitted. “But Harry might.”

Something flashed across her face before it became perfectly blank. “He’s my priority. I--I could not live with myself--”

“Me either,” Sirius said lowly. 

“But there are others I must--and I can’t--”

“The Black family was once the most powerful in Europe,” Sirius said, surprising himself. “Somehow, magic saw fit to make me the Head of the House, despite my utter disdain for the job. I can aid in this third way.”

Something like hope flitted across the girl’s face before she nodded sharply. 

“I’ve--patrols. See you in class, Professor.”

“And you as well, cousin.”

Chapter Text

Harry, 

I understand your disappointment in me. Indeed, I am often disappointed in myself. It is the curse of growing old. Yet, we both still have a responsibility to our world to see you as prepared as you can be to face Voldemort. We must begin your training again.

Sincerely, 

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster

“How many is that one now?” Sirius asked. Harry had requested they have weekly breakfasts together, as they had had during the summer. He had not realized, however, that Sirius had known he had been receiving letters ever since the attack on the muggle Parliament building. 

“Third one this week,” Harry said. “The Headmaster must be getting desperate”

Harry crumpled the parchment and tossed it in the fire as though he were playing muggle basketball. Sirius snorted. 

“Let him. The old coot doesn’t need people bowing to him all the time,” Sirius said. “But be careful. He has a ruthless streak.”

“I know,” Harry said, seeing that burning wardrobe in his mind’s eye again. “I’m not stupid.”

“I know that, Harry. I am so incredibly proud of you,” Sirius said. “But I also worry over you.”

“I’m not breaking up with Evanna--”

Never mind that she, too, had kept secrets from him. About him. About them . 

“You are too much Prongs’s son for me to even try,” Sirius snorted. “When Potter men fall, it is hard and fast. Though I think Lily may string me up for allowing it. Voldemort is your enemy, Harry. All of our enemy. If you still don’t want to run away--”

“I won’t.”

“--I know ,” Sirius sighed, “we don’t need more enemies. Especially not one as powerful as Albus Dumbledore.”

Harry looked at the fire where the note had already turned to ash. “You think I should go?”

“I think you should make whatever choice you can live with,” Sirius said. “I am no longer blindly following the old fu--the old man. I will support you ahead of anyone else, no matter what you choose to do, Harry.”

Harry smirked at Sirius trying not curse in front of him--Remus had once said that Lily had nearly killed Sirius when his second word was “Fuck!”--and nodded at Sirius’ declaration of support. It was an unfamiliar feeling, being so unconditionally supported, but Harry found himself getting used to it dangerously fast. 

“So if I were to, say, begin Dumbledore’s Army again, under a new name…” he trailed off, gauging Sirius’ reaction. His godfather did not seemed displeased, so Harry continued. “And, perhaps, allow a few more Slytherins to join our numbers? Ones who probably won’t fight for the Order, but don’t want to fight for Voldemort either?”

“Your girlfriend said something similar.”

Harry was not expecting Sirius to say that . When had he spoken to Evanna? And--of course, Evanna would talk to his godfather about this, even if she would not tell him about a prophecy that involved the both of them…. 

“I would have thought you would be happy I was speaking of her positively. Trouble in paradise?”

Harry did not want to admit it, especially after being so adamant that he and Evanna were staying together despite what Sirius said, but he did not know how to next see Evanna without being angry that she had lied to him. Again. This time, it was directly about him that she had lied; there was no question that he was the ‘equal’ to which her prophecy referred. Yet, she had not made sure he heard it too. Just as Dumbledore had kept the prophecy from him even after years of being targeted, losing his parents, his friends in danger…

“There’s another prophecy, Sirius,” Harry said. His godfather leaned forward. 

“Tell me.”

So Harry did and in doing so, all the strange, hurt feelings he had been having around Evanna came pouring out as well. Sirius sat and listened quietly, and for a brief moment, Harry could imagine that he had been raised by his godfather all along, telling the man all his problems the same as any other kid and their parent. 

“I sound like a girl, I know,” Harry said, not quite meeting Sirius’ eyes. Sirius chuckled and ruffled Harry’s hair affectionately. 

“To be honest, Harry, your little rant hardly holds a candle to the three years’ worth of soliloquies from your dad about Lily. And, you have maybe a little more reason for frustration. Love never did run smooth for the Potter men, but you’re giving Prongs a run for his money.”

Harry flushed and shifted uncomfortably. “I just--I thought we were past keeping things from each other when--y’know--she told me who her father is.”

“I would say that Evanna is a remarkably honest Slytherin,” Sirius said. “Perhaps she simply is not giving the same weight to the prophecy you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“It took James more convincing than Lily to go into hiding, you know?” Sirius said, eyes taking on the foggy look they often did when he shared a memory. “She was so mad at him, thought him selfish even. Said he was still an arrogant toe-rag, playing hero. What she couldn’t quite understand--not growing up in the Wizarding World--is that the Potters had long despised Seers and Prophecies. Some Lord Potter or another--”

“ Lord Potter?” Harry demanded, eyebrows lifting.

“Merlin, I keep forgetting how little you know, I’ve really been a terrible dogfather--”

“You’re not--”

“I have, Charlus would be incredibly disappointed in me, but the point is, Harry, your father had a deeply ingrained prejudice against believing in prophecy that your mother didn’t fully understand,” Sirius finished. 

“So Evanna doesn’t believe in prophecy?” Harry said, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“I don’t know what Cissy did or did not teach her. But there is a myriad of reasons she may not have told you immediately. The point is, she did tell you. And not just because she was forced to,” Sirius said. “Merlin, I can’t believe I’m defending a Malfoy.”

“She’s not actu--”

“Don’t remind me.” Sirius groaned. “Harry, the world is less black and white than we’d like to believe. There are a million reasons why someone may or may not do something. And with that, it is time for me to go lie with interesting bedfellows.”

Despite Sirius’ advice, Harry avoided Evanna until it was arranged for the DA (or whatever they were calling it now) to meet. It was just good sense. They were still risking so much--risking even more now. Despite running with his teammates, Harry found himself unable to keep still, telling Ron and Hermione that he was going for a walk nearly an hour before they were due to be in the Room of Requirement. The sound that came from Ron could hardly be counted as speech, but Harry left before Hermione could even look up from the book she was reading. Perhaps Evanna would be there early too, and he could….

And he still was unsure. 

Had this all been a mistake? She had spent years bouncing between being his friend and avoiding him. She had told him at the end of last year that she wouldn’t give up on her father--on Voldemort . Was he as much an idiot as Professor Snape had always thought him to be? 

Evanna was not in her school robes when they arrived. No, she had worn a deep purple set of robes with complicated knotwork rimming the belled sleeves and wide neck. She had a silvery cloak casually slung around her shoulders. She looked out of a book of legends with her striking eyes lined darkly and hair half plaited into a coronet, her court of Slytherins headed by none other than Theodore Nott. The other boy was eyeing Evanna just as intently as Harry himself; Harry could not help the glare he sent the boy’s way. Nott did nothing in response but stick his aristocratic nose in the air. 

For her part, Evanna did not acknowledge him beyond a casual nod and an assessing look he could not quite read. Even amongst this new group, loyal to neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort but only the betterment of the Wizarding World, it was not safe for them to acknowledge each other as who they were. Would there ever be a time that Harry could walk hand in hand with his girlfriend like a normal bloke?

“Are the members of your house always so punctual, Potter?” Evanna said in a light tone. 

Nearly two weeks of silence and that was the first thing she said. Harry narrowed his eyes. 

“You said to meet at eight,” Harry said. “We’ve still five minutes. Can’t you travel without an entourage?”

“My betrothed is only prudent to not be out along meeting Gryffindors,” Nott said coolly, slipping a hand around Evanna’s. Harry saw how she tensed, but did not otherwise react to the gesture. He stepped forward.

“I know we did not just get here early to witness another Gryffindor-Slytherin pissing match,” Travers drawled as she walked in. Luna and a handful more of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws followed close behind. 

“Welcome, Bridget, Luna,” Evanna said, maintaining that cool affect Harry could not reach through. Her eyes flitted over the students that followed. “Can we trust their…. Discretion?”

“Of course,” Bridget said, doing an odd sort of bow, reminding Harry that her family, too, were Death Eaters. 

“Atlas has always told me where to find my trainers when they wander off and Juliet was born under a virgo ascendant,” Luna said airily. Evanna blinked at the later, but turned and earnestly thanked Atlas. 

“I told you we were going to be late Ronald!” Hermione’s voice came as the Gryffindors finally clambered through the entrance to the Room of Requirement. 

“Blame Harry--he’s the one who made us run laps at practice. Run . We’re quidditch players for Merlin’s--”

“Please, save me,” Ginny appeared at Evanna’s side as Neville, the Creevey brothers, and Katie Bell. “They’ve been arguing since before we left the tower.”

Evanna raised her eyebrow at the gathered Gryffindors and then looked at Harry. “Are you sure they won’t go running to the Headmaster?” 

“You don’t even know--”

“I know Granger and Weasley well enough,” Evanna snapped. “She seems to worship him the same as the rest of our world and the Weasleys are well known for being Dumbledore lackeys--no offense, Gin.”

“What is she talking about, Harry?” Hermione demanded and Harry glared at his girlfriend. 

“They are my best friends--I trust them with my life.”

“We aren’t just talking about your life, for once, Harry. We are talking about the fate of our world--”

“That’s bloody rich--”

“As entertaining as it is to watch you two argue, I thought we came here to discuss an alternate way to end the war, not watch it in miniature?” Nott drawled. 

Evanna coughed and straightened. “I suppose if you vouch for them Potter, we’ll get on with it then.”

“On with what, exactly?” Ron asked, eyes wide as he looked from Evanna to Harry. “I thought this was a DA meeting?”

“No, Weasley, we are not Dumbleodore’s Army,” Evanna said dryly.

“Then what is this? Harry?” Hermione pressed. 

“This--” Harry stumbled over his words for a moment with his oldest friends looking at him with such concern and Evanna refusing to look at him at all. 

“This,” Evanna stepped in, “is a revolution.”

Chapter Text

Evanna had never worn armor, at least not in the typical sense. But, though she had not birthed her, Evanna was Narcissa’s daughter and had learned the power of clothing at her knee. It was with those lessons in mind that Evanna carefully applied pointed eyeliner and braided her hair into coronet. She carefully pulled on dragon-skinned dueling gloves like gauntlets, touching the celtic runes around her sleeves and neckline with her wand to awaken their protections. She laced her boots, whispering the battle blessings of old she had found in Salazar’s journals. Finally, she fastened a silver cloak tightly around her neck carefully, as though the tight broach would be enough to hold her head to her proverbial shoulders when all of this went to hell. 

She was still small for her age, though curves had finally started to soften the sharp boneiness imparted to her by a childhood with Lucius. But, with the makeup and the hair and the clothes, she might have it in her to look a little intimidating. And if she didn’t look it, she had her wand and quick reflexes that should be enough to get her point across if it came to it. 

Theo gave her an appraising eye as she came down the stairs into the Slytherin Common Room. He was quickly becoming her right hand in this odd in-between war, both giving her the confidence she needed that there were plenty in their generation and beyond who would follow her over her father or Dumbledore if given the chance while also keeping her grounded in not going too far too quickly. 

“Purple--your own color? The color of royalty?” he said, nodding his approval.

“But I still honor my ancestor with the silver,” she said quickly. 

“Good. It is a statement to any who would look for one, without being outright offensive.” 

“Funnily enough, I can come up with some strategy on my own, Theodore,” she said wryly. 

“Never doubted it. Now, shall we to the lion’s den? The others are waiting,” he said. 

Evanna spotted the group Nott was speaking of. Of course, Blaise Zabini was amongst them, as well as Evanna’s roommate and the Greengrass girls. She also recognized Imogen, the little girl whose father the Dark Lord had slaughtered in the wake of the failure at the Ministry. There weren’t many, but none surprised her. 

“Many of the Slytherins were understandably nervous. There are more in the other houses according to Travers,” Theo said somewhat nervously. Evanna nodded eyeing them carefully. Not surprising, no, but also, far from enough for great men to take the views of children seriously. 

“And you are quite sure?” Evanna looked each of them in the eye, before landing on Imogen. She was not as shocked as she should have been by the thirst for vengeance she saw there, though the already lethal loyalty to Evanna nearly made her take a step back.

“We’re sure, Lady,” Imogen, though the youngest, spoke for them all. “And there are Slytherin alumn outside of Hogwarts who will be with us too.”

Theo’s eyes flashed. “Don’t tell me you owled them, you little--”

Imogen snorted. “I’m a Slytherin, same as you, Nott. I think I can communicate with my brother without broadcasting to the whole world what exactly we’re doing.”

“You may be a Slytherin, but you’re a second year so forgive me if I doubt your ability to be discreet--”

“Theo,” Evanna said in a warning tone. “We are all still standing, so we will take that as a good sign for now.”

Evanna chose not to hear his thoughts about her spending too much time with Gryffindors. 

The Slytherin contingent made their way to the Room of Requirement grouped around Evanna like some sort of honor guard. When they entered the room, it was only Harry. Harry, who had looked so betrayed. Harry, who had barely glanced her way in weeks. Harry, who had been prophesied about twice, once about her father and once…. With her. 

She could not help but be affected by those green eyes and tousled curls. His hair was slightly damp, as though he had jumped straight from the locker room showers to come here. Tonight, his mouth did not quirk with mischief, nor did it look as though he had any inclination to wrap his arms around her. It was not fair that she had a role to play tonight, that she couldn’t just go to him and apologize for keeping secrets and causing pain to cloud his eyes. 

She felt Theodore’s eyes on her, silently reminding her that for all that they were forming a third way, the Slytherins far from trusted Harry Potter. She could not be seen as too friendly with him, else her contingent think it all a trick. They probably already were concerned that was the truth. 

"Are the members of your house always so punctual, Potter?" Evanna said in a light tone.

And there it was again, that flash of hurt before her lo--Harry seemed to build walls in a moment, walls she could not hope to scale while also being the Dark Lady. 

"You said to meet at eight," Harry said coldly. "We've still five minutes. Can't you travel without an entourage?"

"My betrothed is only prudent to not be out alone while meeting Gryffindors," Theo said coolly, slipping a hand around Evanna's. Evanna did her best not to flinch at the somewhat possessive gesture, but she feared she had failed when familiar anger filled Harry’s eyes as he stepped forward, as though to forcibly remove Theo’s hand from her own. 

"I know we did not just get here early to witness another Gryffindor-Slytherin pissing match," Bridget drawled as she walked in. Luna and a handful more of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws followed close behind. Evanna swallowed her sigh of relief as she greeted her friends, quickly ascertaining the reliability of their Housemates. In the midst of thanking them for coming, another shrill voice joined the fray. 

"I told you we were going to be late Ronald!" Granger’s voice came as the Gryffindors finally clambered through the entrance to the Room of Requirement.

"Blame Harry-he's the one who made us run laps at practice. Run. We're quidditch players for Merlin's-"

"Please, save me," Ginny appeared at Evanna's grasping her hand and giving her the excuse to drop Theo’s. "They've been arguing since before we left the tower.”

Evanna suppressed a grin at her old, recently reunited friend and scanned the group of lions. She had expected Ronald Weasley and Granger, of course, though she had not exactly expected the Creevey brothers, though she supposed the two were enamored with Harry. Neville Logbottom… she knew what her mother had done to the sixth year’s parents. Would he be so appalled at how his family had been destroyed that he would embrace Dumbledore? Or would he wonder at how the Headmaster failed to protect him? Either way, he was from the Sacred Twenty-Eight, so perhaps it was worth the attempt. 

She found her boyfriend all but glaring at her as she studied the room and could not help her annoyance. He had been suspicious of her Housemates--why shouldn’t she question his? "Are you sure they won't go running to the Headmaster?"

Harry’s eyes flared. "You don't even know-"

"I know Granger and Weasley well enough," Evanna snapped, not able to maintain the cool facade any longer.. "She seems to worship him the same as the rest of our world and the Weasleys are well known for being Dumbledore lackeys-no offense, Gin."

"What is she talking about, Harry?" Granger demanded. He had not even told them what they were doing here? Of all the reckless--

Harry must had recognized the mad look in Evanna’s eye, because he immediately tried to explain. "They are my best friends-I trust them with my life."

Evanna moved toward him, feeling ready to shake him. "We aren't just talking about your life, for once, Harry. We are talking about the fate of our world-"

"That's bloody rich-"

"As entertaining as it is to watch you two argue, I thought we came here to discuss an alternate way to end the war, not watch it in miniature?" Theo drawled.

Evanna and Harry were standing toe to toe as Evanna allowed her second’s words to sink in. She coughed primly and straightened her robes, though there was still a hard edge to her voice as she turned away from him to address the room. "I suppose if you vouch for them Potter, we'll get on with it then."

"On with what, exactly?" Weasley asked, eyes wide as he looked from Evanna to Harry. "I thought this was a DA meeting?"

"No, Weasley, we are not Dumbleodore's Army," Evanna said dryly.

"Then what is this? Harry?" Granger pressed.

Evanna only let Harry fumble for a moment before she stepped in, still not looking at him. 

“This is a revolution.”

Evanna chose to ignore Ginny’s snort of “Overdramatic” and instead focus on Granger’s sputter of disbelief.

“Revolution?” she asked. “Dare I ask what kind?”

She didn’t have to voice the other questions as she stared at the other Slytherins in obvious distrust. 

“You should speak to our Lady with more respect, Granger,” Imogen piped up. More than just Granger’s eyebrows lifted at that. With a glance, Evanna indicated to Theo to stand with the second year to remind her of why Slytherins so valued discretion. 

“Never mind that,” Evanna said. “Most everyone here tonight would agree that Dumbledore has done a piss-poor job in guiding the Light side of the war.”

There were some grumblings of agreement around the room, most loudly from the Slytherins. Granger, however, turned wide-eyed to Harry, hair flying wildly. 

“Harry, please tell me this isn’t--” she fumbled-- “I don’t even know what. But the Headmaster has his faults, but surely you can’t mean to side with a mass--”

“No, Hermione, I’m not siding with Voldemort,” Harry said tiredly. Most everyone in the room flinched. “But there has to be another option.”

“There is no other option, Harry,” Longbottom said. “Gran says we have to choose a side, and the Light at least has never tortured anyone into insanity.”

Theo snorted. “Oh yeah? And just what do you call Azkaban?” 

“We’re getting off track,” Evanna said. “The point is, there ought to be some way in this war to actually do some good for this world, not just pick the lesser evil. We all ought to be fighting for the betterment of wizard kind.”

“And risk the slaughter of muggleborns?” Granger said, her hair seeming to grow. “Harry, what the hell --”

“None of us want that, Granger, but some of us would prefer a machiavellian who throws magical children to the wolves for the greater good not be in power,” Bridget interjected. Again, Evanna did not look at Harry. 

“You abandoned the DA last year. Why should I listen to anything you say?” Granger pushed. 

“Is the muggle world simple? Split into good and evil? How odd it must be,” Luna said, leaning her head to the side. 

“Of course not. I can’t even begin to explain the complex political systems. There are--”

“Then why wouldn’t the Wizarding World be similarly complex?” Luna asked. “The Headmaster has done a good job in embracing the muggleborns, but he has left behind so many of the old ways. Father says it was the Dumbledore family who pushed the world to forget the statute of secrecy to be permanent. It wasn’t supposed to be.”

That seemed to quiet Granger. 

“We all have our reasons for being involved with the war,” Harry said. “But we should make sure those are our reasons, not just what we’ve been told. Or not told.”

The last statement was pointed. 

The different Houses argued for awhile longer, all the while Evanna felt Harry’s eyes on her. She refused to look. When she could barely stand it any longer, she rose her voice above the noise. 

“You each can choose whether you want to just repeat our parents’ war and see the same outcomes of life improving for no wizard,” she said. “What Potter and I are proposing is beyond dangerous. It is likely to get each one of killed. What you do not have a choice in, however, is telling anyone who would hasten that end.”

“And why shouldn’t we go straight to Dumbledore?” Weasley said. Evanna levelled a glare at him.

“I killed the man who raised me. Why shouldn’t I kill someone who threatens me and mine?”

Weasley paled.

“You couldn’t have just left it at hexing him?” Harry muttered behind her. She whirled on him.

“No, I couldn’t have,”  she said. “You all are insane if you believe that there is any way to survive the war to come without people dying and you potentially having to get your hands dirty. I intend to survive. I intend for those I love to survive. And I will stop at nothing to see that through.”

You. I love you. I go against my father for you. 

Harry held Evanna’s gaze with just as much intensity as she herself had for long moments. 

“It’s almost curfew,” Theo said. “We need to go before people get suspicious.”

Evanna tore her gaze away from Harry and eyed each person who had come. “Remember what I said. You don’t have to agree to it, but you do have to be quiet about it.”

As the Slytherins walked back to their common room, Theo pulled Evanna away from the others. 

“If you want this to work, you might want to make it a little less obvious.”

“What?”

“How in love you two are,” Theo said. “Merlin, but you’d really do anything for him, wouldn’t you?”

Evanna chose not to answer.

Chapter Text

There were now bi-weekly stories of attacks on muggles in the Prophet. Anxiety prickled at Evanna with every owl that flew through the window, every glare sent her direction from the Headmaster. Still, she did not hear from her brother as the weather turned ever colder and Hagrid began to drag in great Christmas trees to decorate the Great Hall with. 

“I can barely see your eyes for the nargles, Evanna,” Luna said in their History of Magic class two weeks before the end of term. 

“I’m… sorry?” Evanna said, too tired to suss out meaning from Luna-ese.

“You’ve always made fear into an artform, Evanna. But, now I think it’s making you,” Luna said. 

Anyone else making such observations, Evanna would have been angered. But, Luna had that quality about her that made it almost impossible to be angry with the Ravenclaw. 

“And? Your recommendation when the lives of everyone I love is on the line? When my life is on the line?”

“We all die,” Luna said, her voice more dreamy than usual. “My mother died in front when I was nine. Did you know?”

Evanna had known that Luna’s mother had died young, but in front of Luna? No, she had not known that.

“How?” Evanna said, nerves roiling in her gut.

“And experiment gone wrong,” Luna said. “Nothing to do with the war, so far as I know. Just goes to show that when it’s someone’s time, it’s their time. But you know what she did before that?”

“What?”

“She lived .”

Ginny was waiting for them both when Luna and Evanna were released from History of Magic, holding up a folded piece of parchment. 

“Please tell me one of you got one of these?” she demanded.

“What is it?” Luna asked. 

“A Slug Club party,” Ginny said, voice dripping with disdain. “For Christmas .”

“You could just…. Not go,” Evanna said dryly. 

“Oh? And are you going to turn down an invite from Slughorn when we are doing what we’re trying to do?” Ginny waggled her eyebrows in a manner that was more like the twins. 

“Subtle, Gin really,” Evanna said dryly. Truthfully, she did not yet know whether she would be able to go to the party or if her father would require her to be by his side. She hoped to stay at Hogwarts, not wishing to be questioned on why she had not gotten any further in killing the Headmaster…

“This includes a plus one,” Luna said, reading the invitation. “Who are you taking?”

“Dunno,” Ginny responded, seeming to try too hard to stay nonchalant. “I suppose the fittest bloke who’ll give my brother fits.”

“My brother is still out of the country,” Evanna said slyly. Ginny shot her a glare. 

“In his dreams,” she said, flipping her long red hair over her shoulder. But, Evanna had no need to read her friend’s mind when her face flushed so red. 

“Of course,” Evanna said calmly. Ginny narrowed her eyes. 

“And you? Who’ll you be taking?”

Evanna felt her own face flush. Harry and she had still barely spoken except to figure out when to next have their group meet to begin training. 

“Will it be your mysterious and intelligent fiance?” Ginny pushed. “Or your dangerous, forbidden boy--”

“Obviously Theodore will be escorting me,” Evanna said, ignoring Luna’s curious looks and Ginny’s triumphant smirk. “If I go. I’m not sure if I’m staying over break.”

Immediately, Ginny’s eyes darkened from mirth to concern. “I thought--with our new--”

“I still have to obey my father, same as you,” Evanna said lightly. 

“I reckon yours’ll do worse than take your broomstick?”

Evanna shot Ginny a look. For all that the other girl had ignored her for nearly the whole term, Ginny seemed to slip right back into her usual irreverence. 

“I rarely ride my broomstick,” Evanna said. I’ve more efficient means of flying.

“That must be unfortunate for your bloke,” Ginny said, waggling her eyebrows obnoxiously. Evanna flushed crimson, even as Luna giggled on her other side. 

“On that note,” Evanna said, her voice pitched higher than usual, “I have a meeting with Professor Snape.”

Though she would never admit it, Evanna positively fled the corridor. With Theodore, who any in the corridor would presume Ginny was speaking of, Evanna had never done more than kiss, as expected of a proper young pureblood couple. Theodore had always been a gentlewizard. Before he had stopped looking at her, Harry had none of the expectations of Pureblood society when he kissed her, held her, touched her…

Evanna heard raised voices in the corridor just beyond Professor Snape’s classroom. On instinct, she hid in an alcove just before the door swung open to an irate Harry marching down the corridor towards her. Unfortunately, her hiding spot was not good enough for his green eyes landed on her and grew darker. 

“Harry--”

“Enemies, remember?” he snapped. She flinched. 

“Our own choices, not fate,” she said, taking a step toward him. 

Harry seemed ready to say something when Professor Snape’s voice barked down the hall, “I haven’t got all day, Ms Malfoy!”

“I--”

“Have a good Christmas, Malfoy,” he said. Even with all her powers, Evanna was not quite sure whether it was in good faith or meant to be some sort of insult. 

“ Now , Ms Malfoy,” Professor Snape drawled, though there was a strained edge in his voice that had Evanna forcing herself to tear her eyes from Harry to hurry to her professor. She was barely through the door before he was casting all the usual privacy spells. 

“Merlin and Morgana, what now?” Evanna said.

“Your father is demanded you come home by Boxing Day,” Professor Snape said. “I am under the impression that should you choose to disobey him, the consequences would be dire.”

“And if I do return home?” Evanna said carefully.

“There are some who believe the Dark Lord wishes his heir to stay with him and not return to Hogwarts after the New Year,” Professor Snape said carefully. Evanna did her best not to show the horror on her face. 

“But I’ve not--I mean, Father had things he wanted me to--I can’t just--” Evanna cut herself off as Narcissa entered the room. It was obvious the woman she still regarded as her mother had not been sleeping well for some time. 

“Decorum, Evanna,” Narcissa warned. “Breath and try again.”

Despite herself, Evanna closed her eyes and breathed in deep through her nose. In her most level voice, she said, “What happens if I choose to stay at Hogwarts?” 

Narcissa’s nostrils flared. “You would ask that after owling your brother to come home?”

Evanna winced. “Draco has yet to respond. I’ve a feeling he has made his decision.”

“Draco is many things, but he would not abandon his family,” Professor Snape said. “What if he is already on would you leave him to walk into an execution?” 

Narcissa gave a small cry and Evanna sucked in a breath through her teeth. “I--”

“Or do you truly believe your influence so great over the Dark Lord that he would ignore blatant disobedience from his heir?” Professor Snape continued, his voice more stern than she had ever heard him speak to her. “Keep playing both sides, girl, and all who you love will wind up dead.”

Narcissa rubbed her forehead tiredly as Evanna gaped at her professor. “Severus, is this--”

“It is time for Evanna to put aside her childish idealism and grow up ,” he snarled. “We are in a war and she seems to think she can just do as she pleases, consequences be damned! People will die for your choices, Evanna, no matter what you do. It is up to you to mitigate those deaths. Shall you do as your father demands? Or will you run to Dumbledore?”

“No--I can’t--Dumbledore hates me,” she said, stumbling over her words, shocked at Professor Snape’s vitriol. She pushed at his mind, but, as usual, his shields were up. 

“Then you do as your father wishes.”

“But--I fear--” Evanna gulped. “I fear he has gone mad.”

Professor Snape slammed a fist on the table and Evanna jumped. Narcissa sighed and stood to try and calm the man. 

“Sev, she does not understand. She is just a child--”

“I am not a child!” Evanna said, pressing on the Potions Master’s mind again. She stepped back at what she saw. “He fears me.”

Narcissa turned wide grey eyes on Evanna, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. Professor Snape swore viciously.

“I do not appreciate you traipsing through my mind--”

“Father fears me,” Evanna repeated it, hardly daring to believe it. “He knows that people fear him, but that can only go so far, so he is afraid--”

“That is not a good thing,” Professor Snape said. 

“Why not?” Evanna demanded. “The Wizarding World has already fought this war and barely recovered! Maybe it is time for new blood to step forward--someone better than my father or Dumbledore--”

“And that is you?” Professor Snape snorted. “Two years ago you were cowering beneath Lucius’s foot. You are not even old enough to Apparate--”

“What does that matter compared to what I can do--”

“Things your father has taught you,” Narcissa said. “A man who has had decades to perfect his power. Dumbledore has had even more time. My love, you will one day rattle the stars, but for now…”

“For now, the Dark Lord will see to it that you are punished for anyone’s disloyalty,” Professor Snape said lowly. It was then that Evanna finally noticed that her Potions Master had a tremble to his hands that seemed unlikely to disappear. The aftereffects of Cruciatus. The Professor hid his hands when he noticed her gaze. “I will stand behind you as long as I live, lady, but I fear how long that will be. He is not pleased by your lack of progress in your mission and wants me to finish the deed.”

Evanna looked from Narcissa to Professor Snape in fear. 

“He wants you to kill Dumbeldore,” Evanna said in disbelief. 

“Yes.”

“But you work for Dumbledore.”

“I work to keep oaths to the women I have loved. Unfortunately, those oaths seem to be coming to odds these days.”

Evanna chewed her lip. 

“Owl Draco,” she told Narcissa. “If he arrives before I am due at the manor, I will of course report to my father’s summons. I make no promises if he does not.”

Professor Snape was still trying to hide his trembling hands unsuccessfully. Evanna’s heart clenched. Harry now agreed with her that Dumbledore was perhaps not the bastion of Light that most assumed him to be, but was that enough to keep him? Especially now, when he already was so upset with her for the prophecy fiasco. 

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Evanna said. “Either of you.”

Professor Snape looked at her with bone weariness in his onyx eyes. “I believe you believe that. The folly of youth.”

Evanna backed up, shaking her head as she saw within his mind the torture sessions, both him and Narcissa forced to pay for the wrongdoings of others. She did not listen to Narcissa calling after her as she ran from the office. She did not know where she was going until she was standing on the doorstep, pounding on the door. 

Sirius Black stood before her an eyebrow quirked at her out of breath appearance. 

“I must say, cousin, I did not expect Narcissa Black’s daughter to be beating down the door just before dinner. Seems the height of impropriety.”

“I’m not Narcissa Black’s daughter,” Evanna said. 

His eyebrow raised higher. “No, I suppose you’re not,” he sighed, opening the door wider. “Well? Are you coming in?”

“It is just before dinner.”

He waved her off nonchalantly. “I’ll call a house elf. I’ve a feeling we’re about to have a long talk, little cousin.”

Chapter Text

Despite having rejected his Pureblood family, Sirius still ate like them. Indeed the beouf bourguignon and green bean almondine would not have been the least bit out of place on Narcissa Malfoy’s table, nor would the vintage red wine Sirius had offered her before she reminded him that she was an underage student. He shrugged and poured himself a glass that was perhaps fuller than was considered proper. 

Evanna watched the man carefully as he ate, observing all the careful manners that had been drilled into her from birth. She had heard whispered tales of Walburga Black, who seemed to have had similar ideas to Lucius on discipline. What would it have been like to have been hexed not for using the wrong spell in a mock duel but instead using the wrong fork at dinner?

“I was never the bring the boy home for dinner type, but I always assumed both of the couple would be present at such a dinner,” he said nonchalantly. Evanna felt her cheeks redden. Apparently, such punishment over mundane matters made one insufferable.

“This is not that kind of visit,” Evanna said. “Besides, I hardly think we qualify as a couple anymore.”

The words tasted as horrible as they felt. 

Sirius hummed. “Teenaged love. Ne’er did the course of true love run smooth.”

Evanna blinked. Perhaps Azkaban had truly stolen the man’s sanity. 

“I didn’t--I didn’t come about Harry,” she babbled, feeling distinctly off kilter. “I mean--I suppose in a way--there is the war.”

“Yes, I know there is war, girl. This is the second one I’ve lived through,” Sirius said. “Our generation did know how to still be idiot kids, though. You are allowed to have teenaged drama, Evanna.”

“And you think that I should discuss how my secret boyfriend is icing me out with his once estranged godfather?” Evanna said dryly. 

“Ehh, maybe not, but who else are you able to? Snivellus?”

Evanna swelled with offense. “Professor Snape has always--”

“Yeah, I know the bastard has some good points, like saving my cousin,” Sirius said waving a hand at her. “I still doubt he is one for relationship advice.”

Evanna could concede the point, except the conversation was taking an absolutely wild turn. “This really is not why I came.”

Sirius waved a hand at her to go on. 

“Did you…. Did you ever regret it? Walking away from the family?”

A sort of darkness washed over Sirius’ face. “I couldn’t stay. Not with what they wanted me to do.”

“Which was?”

“Take the Mark,” Sirius said simply. “Tell me--does he still have initiation requirements?”

Evanna frowned. She had heard whispers, yes, of terrible things done to prove loyalty to her father, but she had chalked it up to rumor. To sadists tormenting children, not the man who had saved her from Lucius. Never the man who had saved her. 

“I do not have the Mark, nor will I ever,” Evanna said, sidestepping the question. Sirius gave a sort of odd half smile. 

“It’s difficult, isn’t it, reconciling the horrible monsters in our family with the humans we love,” Sirius mused. “My cousin… there were years we spent playing in the yard, pranking the littles and infuriating our parents. She even stopped my mother from one of her more violent rampages against my brother and I. After all she’s done, I still find it difficult to truly hate her.”

“Marrying a man like Lucius Malfoy is terrible, but I don’t know that it quite reaches the level of genocide,” Evanna said ruefully. Sirius smiled sadly. 

“No, it does not,” he said, though there was something odd in his voice. Before Evanna could comment on it, he continued. “I did regret one thing.”

When he did not elaborate, Evanna pressed him. “What?”

“I left my brother behind,” Sirius said, eyes far off in memory. “He died. He might of anyway, but…”

Evanna was silent at that. Her brother. For that was what he was, even if their blood said they were only cousins. Even if it went against everything within her, she had to play her part, if only to keep him safe. 

Sirius cleared his throat, clearly as uncomfortable with sad thoughts as Evanna herself. “I have been reaching out to some old friends and aquaintances--branches of the family who are more gray than Black.”

“I did not realize there were any such branches,” Evanna admitted. Sirius snorted.

“Andi and I didn’t turn out decent in a vacuum,” he said. “Many of them left the country last time to avoid being drawn into the conflict. It is taking some convincing to get them back home.”

Evanna nodded. She had expected as much. “And… how will they react? Should my true parentage be made public?”

Sirius sighed. “Try to prevent that, yeah? Bella…. Bella was once considered the best among us. Fierce, powerful, captivating…. Then one day, it all went wrong. All Blacks have a touch of madness, but she…”

Sirius shook his head, looking remarkably like a dog. 

“Would… would you mind if I sometimes come and talk with you?” Evanna asked. “I think… it would be nice to. To have some good family. And to maybe meet these cousins too?”

Sirius grinned ruefully. “I think we could arrange something like that. Perhaps even sneak Cissy in for a good ole family reunion.”

Evanna smiled. “And perhaps… your godson could be invited as well?”

At that Sirius threw his head back and laughed. “Not very subtle, little cousin. Not very subtle at all.”

The rest of term was somewhat a blur. Evanna found herself doing only the bare minimum to get by in classes as she poured over the texts in Slytherin’s study within the Chamber of Secrets to find a way to sneak her father’s Death Eaters into the castle. Meanwhile, excitement was gathering for Slughorn’s Christmas Party as people paired off just as they had for the Yule Ball. Evanna had personally threatened Blaise Zabini when she heard he was trying to take Pansy Parkinson while Ginny apparently had invited Dean Thomas as her date. 

Evanna was only half paying attention as Ginny babbled about the party. “Harry asked me after Romilda tried dosing him with love potion--”

“She did what ?” Evanna exclaimed, fingers twitching for her wand. Ginny smirked. 

“Knew that would get your attention,” she joked. Evanna glared at her. “You haven’t noticed all the mail he’s been getting? Ever since the Prophet declared him the Chosen One, girls have been lining up to have a chance with him.”

“I assume he’s turned them all down?” Evanna said, something ugly twisting in her chance. 

“Nope,” Ginny said, popping the ‘p’ sound. Evanna had to force herself not to react. She feared it did not work based on Ginny’s cheshire cat grin. 

“Well?” 

“Well what?” Ginny said nonchalantly. 

“Well, who is he going with?” Evanna demanded. 

“Katie Bell.”

“ Katie Bell? ”

Evanna’s mind swam. Katie Bell, a girl he had been playing quidditch with for years now. She was a seventh year, in his house. Athletic and attractive, much like Harry himself. When they arrived to the party, they would be met with comments like ‘ Oh, what a lovely couple! ’ and ‘ How sweet! ’ They could go to Madam Puddifoot’s and the Three Broomsticks on Hogsmeade weekend with no worries of judgement or potential death from one side or the other. Yes, Katie Bell would make a lovely choice to date Harry Potter…

“Yeah, he asked her right after quidditch practice. I was honestly impressed he had finally taken her hints, she had only been trying for weeks to get him to say more to her than nice pass.

Evanna sputtered. “That’s--but he’s--”

Mine .

Ginny’s smirk would not have been out of place in the Slytherin Common Room. “You know, Mum sent me some red dress robes, but they rather clash with my hair, I rather think. You’re welcome to borrow them for ole Sluggy’s party. Might make you stand out to a certain someone,” she said in a tone that was far too light. 

“Then what are you going to wear?” Evanna said, narrowing her eyes. 

Ginny waved her off. “There is benefit to being the only girl after six brothers. The older ones tend to indulge me. May I presume you are indeed trying to catch a certain Chos--”

“Red might be a good change of pace. Festive,” Evanna said, cutting Ginny off. Before the girl was able to bask too much in her victory, Evanna pushed her through the corridor. “C’mon, we’ve got History of Magic.”

There was not a Goblin War in all history that could get the idea of Harry with someone else out of her mind, though. It would be better for all involved, of that Evanna was sure. 

But it was also unthinkable. 

Harry POV

Katie had really done Harry quite the favor. Girls had become more confusing than ever, and though Harry was not quite sure about his current relationship, he knew he did not want to end up on the wrong side of a love potion. Katie’s humor was nearly as sharp as her skill on the pitch, so the party would at least not be as dull as Harry had feared. 

“Thanks again for bringing me,” Katie said. “Been wanting to know what all the fuss is about at these things.”

“Mostly crystallized pineapple,” Harry said wryly. 

The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. People were laughing and chatting in groups of alum and students, eating and drinking merrily. The trays of champagne glasses did not seem to be only sparkling juices and Harry wondered if it was some sort of further test for the students Slughorn had picked to be his favorites. Those who had not passed, like Neville and Marcus Belby, seemed to have been relegated to service positions at the party. 

“Doesn’t Hogwarts have house elves?” Katie muttered. 

“They aren’t connected enough,” Harry said, still scanning the crowds. 

“Anyone you’re looking for in particular?” Katie said, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Hmm? Oh, no, of course not,” Harry said, though he kept scanning the crowd. 

“Right,” Katie drawled. 

It was then that another couple entered the party, arm in arm. Theo Nott looked sharp in black formal robes, a green cravat at his neck. Expectedly, Evanna was on his arm. In red . The robes hugged her curves where Harry liked to brush his hands when they kissed. It seemed to swoop and swish all on it’s own, one side swishing low around her left leg and tantalizingly high on her right, giving a lovely view of the black heels laced up her calf. Harry found his throat dry. 

“Ahh, good,” Ginny said, coming up beside them. “Mum didn’t notice all the adjustments I made to those, and apparently neither did Narcissa Malfoy. Looking good, Bell.”

“You too, Weasley,” Katie said, then glanced at Harry who was still dumbstruck. “Harry? You alright?”

“Don’t start drooling, Harry, you know you’re pants at household spells,” Ginny said dryly. 

“Drooling?” Katie said, glancing between Harry, who was still having trouble swallowing, and Ginny, grinning like the cat who got the cream. “Wait, who is it that you really wanted to be here with--”

Before Katie could finish the question, a hush rushed through the crowd, followed by furious muttering. Harry watched as Evanna turned to the entrance, where everyone was staring and her mouth open in a little gasp. She took a single halting step, then rushed forward. The crowd clapped politely as she wrapped her arms tightly around the newcomer. Beside him, Ginny muttered words that Harry had seen Mrs Weasley beat her brothers around the head for. Harry could not blame her for it though. 

Draco Malfoy had returned to Hogwarts. 

Chapter Text

Draco POV

Despite his best efforts, Draco found himself going back to England. 

He tried to stay, he really did. He flirted with the shopgirl. He studied magicks that would never be mentioned in Hogwarts. He reminded himself that a monster now lived in his home. His sister was not his sister. She had murdered his father. 

But, his mother was still in England, as were all his friends. All of them were likely in danger, not that he could do much about it. The girl he had been seeing was likely running straight for the danger. He had never done anything about the many times his sister had been hurt. He had stood by, he had even reported things to his father that resulted in further injury to Evanna, no matter how many times she had pleaded for his help, or at least him not to further put her in harm’s way.

She had asked him to come home. Had used whatever she could, had even convinced his mother to write him and his Head of House to promise his safety. Evanna was desperate, and even if she wasn’t his sister, she was his blood. He had done a terrible job of helping her while they were children, but she still seemed to have some amount of faith that he could help her.  Perhaps that was why he now found himself standing at the entrance to a Christmas party he had been told she was attending. 

The crowd hushed one by one as they noticed the prodigal scion of Malfoy back at Hogwarts. His sister--in some ridiculous ensemble that only barely counted as dress robes--was one of the last to turn to see him. When she did, her mouth dropped in a little “o” of surprise that made her look more like the small child he used to give piggy back rides around the Manor and steal sweets from the house elves with than the Dark Lady. Within moments, she had rushed to him, not hesitating to throw her arms around his neck. 

“I’m sorry--for everything,” she said haltingly. “Thank you--for coming.”

It didn’t take Draco more than a moment’s consideration to wrap his arms tightly around his sister--he didn’t care that wasn’t exactly true--and clung to her for dear life.

“I’m sorry--for making you wait,” he said. “And for all the times I didn’t help you.”

Draco was somewhat surprised and disturbed to note that his robes were slightly damp as she pulled away from him. It was rare that Evanna Malfoy cried, though he supposed she had had plenty to cry about in their childhood. Still, it was not an experience he wished to repeat. 

“I think we’re making a scene,” he admitted. Indeed, the noise in the room had faded and then slowly picked back up, party guests glancing between the two siblings as though waiting for a greater show. 

Evanna nodded, stepping away from him. 

“We’ll speak more later. Meet me at the second floor girls’ bathroom the first day of term,” Evanna said quickly. Draco’s eyebrows rose. 

“The girls’ bathroom--”

“Hush, Slughorn’s coming,” Evanna whispered. In an instant, she had turned away from Draco, the politician’s mask sliding smoothly into place. Draco could not help but be reminded of their father-- his father--for a moment. 

“And who is this handsome young man?” a rotund man with a thick mustache said, all but waddling up to the pair. Lucius Malfoy had expounded on how influential Professor Horace Slughorn had been in his day, setting up many of Lucius’ closest political allies. Draco found it somewhat hard to believe of the man standing before him. 

“Allow me to introduce my brother, Draco Malfoy,” Evanna said in her most polite voice. Draco did his best not to grimace at the man’s somewhat clammy handshake. 

“Very pleased to meet you, my boy. I was most disappointed when you weren’t here at the start of the year--your father was one of my favorites--I nominated him for Prefect even!”

Though Slughorn did not notice it, Draco certainly noticed Evanna becoming stiffer at the mention of Lucius Malfoy. Somehow, that made the sting a little easier to bear. 

“He has always spoken highly of you, sir,” Draco said as evenly as he could manage. 

“Are you staying with us at Hogwarts, then? I am sure I can speak to Dumbledore about reinstating you as Prefect--”

“To be honest, sir, I am more concerned with my quidditch position,” he admitted wryly. Evanna was barely able to roll her eyes when a new voice joined the conversation. 

“Why? Slytherin would hardly perform any better. Gryffindor is already all but guaranteed the Cup.”

Draco turned to take in fiery red hair and burning brown eyes. Ginny was clad in metallic gold that clung to every curve and he could not help his throat go dry. Unfortunately, she was not alone. Instead, she was on the arm of some Gryffindor muggleborn in Draco’s year he had never bothered to learn the name of. 

Draco hated him more than he had ever hated anyone. 

“Oho!” Professor Slughorn chortled. “A little quidditch rivalry--I wouldn’t get on her bad side, young Malfoy. Ms Weasley here has quite the bat bogey hex…”

Draco found himself paying less attention to the professor and instead studying Ginny. There were circles under her eyes, faint, but there. He supposed no one was sleeping well these days. She had woven her hair into an intricate updo, charming real snowflakes to artfully swirl into the scarlet locks, matching the snowflakes on her earrings. Narcissa Malfoy would have never been caught wearing such plebeian jewelry, but it was rather charming. Draco’s eyes hitched on the golden chain that disappeared beneath the neckline of her dress. 

She was wearing his necklace. 

She was on the arm of another boy, but she was wearing his necklace. 

An easy smirk slid onto Draco’s mouth as he slipped his hands into his pockets. 

“Will I be facing you, then, Weasel-ette?” he asked. “I shall have to make a rousing chorus of ‘Weasley is Our Queen’. Has a better ring to it than your brother’s anthem, doesn’t it?”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed on him. “I play Chaser. Harry is still Seeker. You might not recognize his face, but I’m sure you’d recognize his back as often as he’s beaten you to the snitch.”

Slughorn chuckled again. “Come now, children, it is the holiday. Lay aside the House rivalry and enjoy the party.”

“I do feel like dancing,” Ginny said rather dramatically. “Dean?”

“Yeah, of course,” the sod replied, following after Ginny like a crup puppy. Theo and Evanna likewise excused themselves to dance.

 Draco barely restrained his snarl as Ginny and the oaf took their positions on the dance floor, the idiot placing his hand far lower on Ginny’s back than should be allowable. Evanna and Theo danced nearby, looking as though they were enjoying each other’s company rather well for once. Perhaps his sister had given in to the betrothal finally. Draco could not help himself but to turn back to Ginny, when someone else caught his gaze. 

Harry Potter stood on the outskirts of the room, looking just as displeased as Draco felt. Much like Draco, the supposed Chosen One was also glaring at a couple on the dancefloor. A since of dread in his stomach, Draco followed Harry’s gaze. 

To Evanna and Theo. 

Well, fuck. He should have stayed in Egypt.

Evanna POV

“The whole room is staring at you,” Theo said in Evanna’s ear as they waltzed around Slughorn’s magically enlarged office. 

“Are you trying to be charming, Theo?” she asked wryly.

“Maybe,” he replied. “I would not be a true Slytherin if I did not work to keep all my options open. And you are certainly one of the better ones, lady.”

“To get you killed, maybe,” she scoffed. She would be leaving at midnight, flooring back to the Manor from Professor Snape’s office. 

She supposed her father thought to give her a Yule present. 

“No, I rather like our chances for survival,” Theo said. 

“I did not take you for a Hufflpuff,” Evanna said. 

“You know, you aren’t exactly helping your cause speaking so lowly of yourself, Evanna,” he said. “Nor are the glares the Chosen One is sending our way.”

Evanna glanced behind her. Sure enough, Harry was not dancing with his date. Rather, he was scowling by the wall, shooting poor Theo death glares. Ginny’s dress had done it’s job rather too well. 

“That’s why you’re being like this,” Evanna said. 

Theo smirked. “Just because we’ve come to an arrangement doesn’t mean I can’t still get under Potter’s skin. It’s kind of fun.”

Evanna rolled her eyes. “Mature, Theo, really.”

“You probably need to speak with him though,” Theo continued. “I can’t imagine I am the only one who has noticed it.”

“When, exactly?” she said. “I leave at midnight.”

Theo’s eyes darkened. “Your--”

“Yes.”

“But I thought--”

“All options, yes?” Evanna said. “I’d be rather short on them if I did not follow orders.”

As the music ended, Theo bowed to her, placing a dramatic kiss on her hand that she knew was just for Harry. “I will see what I can do. You ought to speak to some people. Try to recruit some to our side.”

Evanna did her best not to let her fear at that idea show. Schoolmates were one thing, but adult wizards and witches who she had rarely been let around as a child? That was something else entirely. 

“Mind if I steal away your date, Mr Nott?” a voice behind her said. 

“Of course, Professor Black,” Theo replied, giving Evanna a meaningful look as he turned to do whatever he thought might help her with Harry. Evanna turned and gave a small curtsy. 

“Cousin,” she said. Sirius Black’s sharp grey eyes pierce through her. 

“I was surprised to see you here tonight,” he said. “I would have thought you had family obligations.”

Evanna met his eyes evenly, expecting suspicion to be there. Instead, she found…. Worry. 

“I will be leaving shortly,” she said, then quickly added. “My mother is very attached to her traditions.”

“I could have a chat with Narcissa,” he said, studying her carefully. “I am--technically speaking--the Lord of her House.”

Evanna chose her words carefully. “I would think what she married into takes precedence. With her delicate health, my father would prefer us all home.”

Evanna knew Sirius understood what she was getting at when anger flashed in his grey eyes, so similar to Draco’s. The snake bastard is threatening Cissy.

“Ms. Malfoy, I--”

“Tea, when I return?” she said quickly, unwilling to put another person Harry loved further in the line of fire. They may be forging a new path, but she still only had so many options when it came to protecting the ones she loved right now. 

“You don’t have to--”

“But I do, Professor,” she said seriously. “My family…. They are counting on me. And I must get going.”

It was nearing midnight. Her father--nor Professor Snape, for that matter--would not be pleased if she was late. 

Black seemed ready to say more, but Evanna turned from him, making her way quickly through the throngs of party goers before he could. She hurried through the halls, anxious to make it to Professor Snape’s office before anyone could spot her. 

But someone did. 

“Where are you going?” Harry said, seeming to step out of thin air before an alcove just a corridor over from Professor Snape’s office. Evanna could not help but to look him up and down, drinking in the handsome sight of him in his dress robes. He, she noted with some amount of smugness, was doing the same with her. 

She shook herself from it and shoved him into the alcove, casting a privacy charm with barely a thought. 

“You were rather obviously all night, Potter,” she hissed. “We’ll be lucky if it was only Theo who noted it.”

Harry scowled. “He was all over you--”

“He is my betrothed and my father expects it!”

“What does it matter when you won’t be seeing him until summer and--” Harry cut himself off and took in Evanna’s face. “That’s where you’re going.”

Evanna looked at the floor. “Yes.”

“But I thought…. We were creating a third path,” Harry said, fear and anger intermingling in his voice. 

“He--he’s threatened my mother--Narcissa. And now Draco’s in the country too, and--” Evanna gulped. “I would have told you before now, but--”

“But I wasn’t speaking to you.”

The regret in Harry’s eyes made him look impossibly boyish and Evanna found herself cursing the war, Dumbledore, her father--anything and everything that kept them from just being a normal teenaged witch and wizard together. 

“I’m sorry about the prophecy--I didn’t realize--”

Before Evanna was able to get any further, Harry swept her in a fierce kiss, pressing her tightly against him. His hands made their way into her hair, and before Evanna was able to protest it, he had undone her hair, curls tumbling to her waist. She pulled on the front of his dress robes, desperate to be closer to him. 

“I’ve wanted to do this all night,” Harry practically growled in her ear, trailing sweet kisses down the side of her neck. She gasped as he backed her into the wall behind. The cold stone shocked something in her and her eyes flew open and she regretfully pushed him away. 

“I can’t--I can’t be late--” she whispered, out of breath. Harry pressed his forehead to hers, eyes squeezed tightly closed. 

Can’t we just be normal?

Evanna was not sure which one of them thought it first. 

“You could stay,” he murmured, his breath brushing along her neck. She shuddered at the sensation. “You could--”

Evanna reached up, hushing him with a gentle kiss. 

“Draco just returned to England,” she said softly. “I can’t do that to him or Mother.”

Harry gulped and nodded. “How do you know--”

“--that he won’t kill me?” Evanna didn’t have to listen to his thoughts to know. “I don’t.”

Harry’s arms tightened around her. “Then how can I just let you go especially after I’ve been so stupid about things?”

“You have to,” Evanna whispered. “I promise, I will do my best to come back for you.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he growled. Something deep in her stomach twisted pleasantly.

“First you’ll have to let me go,” she said wryly. Harry seemed to have as hard of a time letting her go as she did. 

“If you aren’t back the first of term--” Harry said warningly. 

“It would likely be too late for you to do anything stupid,” Evanna said. “I’ll see you soon, Harry.”

Before he could do more to stop her, Evanna slipped away, doing her best to slip into the icy composure needed to be the Dark Lady. When she arrived at Professor Snape’s office, he was pacing while Narcissa sat primly behind his desk. 

“You are nearly late,” he snapped. 

“Which means I’m on time,” Evanna replied. 

“You know what kind of mood--”

“I do and I am here,” Evanna said coolly, trying to be stone in the face of Professor Snape’s fire. Narcissa stood, waving her wand in a complicated motion that had Evanna’s hair fixing itself.

“You have lipstick on your teeth, darling,” she said. “Do fix it before you see your father.”