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Chapter Text

"Where is Mr. Potter?" Fudge snapped. "He's late!"

"He can be tried in absentia," Umbridge suggested sweetly.

The door opened at that moment, and an unfamiliar teenager with white-blond hair, gray eyes, and a stormy look marched inside, carrying a briefcase.

"Who are you, and why are you interrupting this trial?" Fudge demanded.

"I am Lord Hyperion Gray, Lord Potter's Solicitor," the boy said coldly. He pulled a scroll from the briefcase and handed it to Madam Bones.

"What!" Fudge sputtered. "You're twelve! You can't be-"

"I'm fifteen, actually, Minister," Hyperion said coolly.

Madam Bones handed the scroll back. "He is, in fact, legally Lord Potter's solicitor. Will Lord Potter be joining us?"

"No, Madam Bones," Hyperion said bluntly. "He was not only attacked by Dementors, but also by his relatives. He has transferred his Guardianship to me and is in hiding."

"Dementors!" Fudge exclaimed.

Umbridge laughed. "Are you insinuating that the Ministry sent Dementors to attack a child?"

"If you had listened, Madam Umbridge," Hyperion said in such an icy tone that several of the Wizengamot shuddered, "you would notice that I did not accuse anyone of sending the Dementors, merely that they were there, and that they attacked my client." He pulled two vials and a Pensive from his briefcase. He held up one vial and handed it to Madam Bones. "These are the memories of Lord Potter, showing that he was in fact attacked by Dementors. These memories-" he handed her the other vial "-show that he did not, in fact, perform a Levitation Charm at the age of twelve, when in fact it was a house-elf."

"That is not the subject of today's trial!" Fudge protested.

"Be that as it may, my client was angry when he was accused of performing magic when he, in fact, did not," Hyperion said softly.

"Thank you, Lord Gray," Madam Bones interjected before Fudge could continue. "The Minister, Madam Umbridge and I will view these memories."

"Mr. Potter cannot provide memories for a trial, he is underage," Umbridge said angrily.

"He can, in fact," Hyperion corrected. "He went through an early inheritance."

Gasps and shudders swept through the crowd.

"What happened?" Madam Bones asked sharply.

"His uncle was displeased, because his son, my client's cousin, was also present, and was also affected by the Dementors," Hyperion explained. "However, there was no proof, and he automatically assumed that Lord Potter was responsible for his son's suffering. He proceeded to beat him violently. My client was unconscious, bleeding profusely, and nearly dead by the time I arrived. He would like to prosecute his relatives for abuse," he added to Madam Bones tightly.

"I'll look into it," Madam Bones agreed.

The Minister, Umbridge, and Madam Bones viewed the two memories. Fudge and Umbridge looked rather angry but resigned when they emerged.

"The memories are not tampered with and all there," Fudge said sourly. "All those in favor of clearing all charges?"

Nearly everyone raised their hands. Hyperion noticed a few Death Eaters stubbornly remaining still.

"All those against?"

Five hands raised.

"Cleared of all charges."

Hyperion returned the memories and Pensive to his briefcase quietly, just as the door burst open and Dumbledore entered.

"You're late," Fudge sniffed. "The trial is over. Mr. Potter-"

"Lord Potter," Hyperion corrected, his livid gaze on the headmaster.

"-Lord Potter," Fudge amended, "has been cleared of all charges."

"I'm at a disadvantage," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I'm afraid I don't know your name, young man."

"Lord Hyperion Gray," Hyperion said stiffly. "Lord Potter's solicitor. I am late for an appointment with my client. Oh-" he pulled another scroll from his briefcase and handed it to Dumbledore. "From my client. Excuse the harsh language." He left swiftly, obviously not needing a reply.

Dumbledore, f*** off. I almost died because you put me with those stupid f***ing Muggles, and I don't want anything to do with you. You're no longer my Guardian -- Hyperion is.

Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Wanted-To-Be-Normal

Chapter Text

Hyperion glanced around the Order headquarters with mild disgust. There was so much Dark magic in the air, but it had a rather sour aura. It had been created by a Light wizard.

"How... quaint," he said coldly to Dumbledore. The old man had insisted on him "visiting" the headquarters, because several of Harry's "friends" were worried about him, and they wanted news.

Several of his "escort" cringed, and Hyperion realized why a moment later.

The curtains on the largest portrait flew open, revealing a deranged woman, and she immediately began screaming.

"FILTH! MUDBLOODS! BLOODTRAITORS-!"

"Well met, Madam Black," Hyperion said loudly. The woman silenced, and everyone stared at him. "I am Lord Hyperion Gray."

"Oh! You must be darling Amber's son," Mrs. Black crooned.

Hyperion smiled fleetingly. "No, I am Obsidian's grandson."

She looked startled. "We all assumed that he died before having an heir!"

"My mother... did not come about in the 'usual' way," Hyperion said carefully.

"Ah," she replied knowingly. "Out of wedlock?"

Hyperion dipped his head. "I am apparently the last living of the Gray family, which is why I am the head of the family now, Madam Black."

"You will be treated as a guest of the Black family," Mrs. Black said warmly. "Kreacher!"

A very old house-elf appeared at once. "Yes, mistress?"

"Lord Gray will be staying in Regulus' room," she ordered. "He will be treated with great respect, and you will obey him."

Kreacher bowed, and the curtains swept shut. "This way, Lord Gray," he croaked.

Hyperion followed the elf, ignoring the stunned silence behind him.

Sirius and Remus Lupin-Black were at the top of the stairs, whispering quietly to each other. When Hyperion appeared, they turned. Remus' eyes went wide.

Hyperion cursed inwardly. "Well met, Lord Black, Consort Black."

Remus blushed faintly -- obviously he wasn't used to the title -- while Sirius looked startled. "How'd you-"

"My client informed me." Hyperion pulled a scroll from his robe pocket and handed it to Remus. "That is from him. Only you two are permitted to read it. Any attempt by anyone else to read that, all they will see is a blank sheet of paper. Good afternoon."

He followed Kreacher into Regulus' room and placed his trunk on the floor by the bed. "I plan to only stay one night," he informed the elf politely. "I do not trust most of the people here." He paused, then pulled a small package wrapped in black paper to the elf. "Please deliver that to the two redhead menaces. My client wanted them to have that."

Kreacher bowed, looking a mixture of amused at the nickname, startled at the respect Hyperion had shown him, and annoyed at the mention of Fred and George Weasley. Then he disappeared with a loud crack.

Hyperion collapsed onto the bed and shut his eyes tightly. Stupid headaches. Stupid Order. Why couldn't he catch a break?

------------

"My name is Ginny," the red-head flirted.

"I am well aware of your name, Miss Ginevra Weasley," Hyperion said irritably. "I was informed by my client that you have a habit of flirting with every male, regardless of age or sexuality. Please cease speaking to me, I would rather not associate with a... young lady such as yourself."

Mrs. Weasley sputtered indignantly.

"We already like you," Fred grinned.

"Nobody notices Ginny's flirtiness," George added.

"'Flirtiness' is not a word, Mr. George Weasley," Hyperion said dryly. They gaped at him.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "My boy, can we begin this meeting?"

"Please do not address me as 'my boy,' Headmaster Dumbledore," Hyperion said coldly. "I am not your boy. You will address me as 'Lord Gray.' If you do not feel comfortable addressing me so, you may call me 'Solicitor Gray.'"

The man's blue eyes flashed angrily, but he said patiently, "Please accept my apologies, Lord Gray."

Hyperion sniffed.

"Now, let us begin," Dumbledore said.

"What have you done with Harry!" Ronald blurted angrily.

Hyperion gave him a loathing look. "I, Mr. Ronald Weasley, have done nothing to Lord Potter except what he needed -- rescue from abusive Muggles, medical care, and legal assistance. He is currently in a safe house registered to me. He is perfectly safe. He sends his greetings." He paused. "To Miss Hermione Granger, Lord Black, Consort Black, Mr. Fred Weasley, and Mr. George Weasley." He glanced around. "He also asked me to deliver greetings to Mr. Percy Weasley, but he does not appear to be present."

Several of the Weasleys scowled. The twins just looked confused. Hermione was looking thoughtful.

"What about me!" Ronald demanded. "I'm his best mate!"

"Forgive me, Mr. Weasley, he did not mention your name," Hyperion said in a falsely polite tone.

"Perhaps you're having trouble remembering?" Dumbledore suggested. "Mr. Weasley and Harry have been quiet close."

"You will address my client as Lord Potter," Hyperion barked. "He informs me he never gave you permission to call him by his first name, and yet you have always addressed him so."

Dumbledore was shocked.

"How dare you talk to Dumbledore like that!" Nymphadora Tonks shouted angrily.

"It is Pureblood etiquette and respectful to address someone by their title until asked otherwise, Miss Tonks," Hyperion said icily. "And you have just done the same. His title is Headmaster Dumbledore." But not for much longer.

"Lord Gray," Mr. Weasley interjected. Hyperion looked at him. "Is -- Is Lord Potter really alright?"

"He is, Mr. Weasley," Hyperion assured him in a much more polite tone.

"Is there anything he needs?"

A quiet snort sounded in the back. Hyperion swung his gaze to Severus Snape. "Do you have something to say, Lord Ravenclaw?" he asked.

There were several shocked gasps. Snape looked astounded.

"I have goblin contacts," Hyperion said bluntly. "Do you have something to say about my client, Lord Ravenclaw?"

Snape stared at him for a moment before saying, "No."

"Really? He seems to think that what you have to say will involve his father, his supposed status as a spoiled brat, and his arrogance." Hyperion cocked his head mock thoughtfully. "However, from what I have seen, he is most certainly not a spoiled brat or arrogant. Are freed house-elves spoiled and arrogant?"

"What are you talking about, Lord Gray?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly over more gasps. "Lord Potter was more than cared for."

"You gave him to magic-hating Muggles, Headmaster Dumbledore," Hyperion snapped. "You left him on the doorstep in the middle of the night in thirty-degree weather, then neglected to check up on him. I found him in his bedroom with evidence of long-term abuse. Any more than that I am forbidden to tell you."

Every face was white except Remus'. The werewolf's eyes were glowing golden, and a quiet growl was coming from his mouth.

"If you wish to speak to my client, he is accepting letters," Hyperion said coldly. "You will send your mail to this address in London-" he pulled a piece of paper from his bag and handed it to Sirius "-where one of my house-elves will pick it up. You will not attempt to track the elf. First because it is entirely impossible -- my elf is very good at losing tails -- but also because you will immediately be arrested. My client does not wish to see anyone but myself until he finishes his schooling and becomes of age." He turned his gaze to Ginny, eyes boring into her. "Any attempts to send any poison or Love Potions will immediately be reported to the Ministry." He turned to the twins. "Pranks will be accepted as long as-"

"How dare you accuse me of trying to send poison or love potion to Harry!" Ginny shrieked.

"You will address my client as Lord Potter, Miss Weasley," Hyperion said without looking at her. "And it is incredibly rude to interrupt someone." He finished speaking to Fred and George. "As long as any pranks you send are not painful or permanent, you may send them. I have business with you, as well." He glared at Dumbledore. "But as of now, our correspondence is over."

"Lord Gray, there are many more questions we have," Dumbledore said firmly as Hyperion stood.

"I have told you all I can, Headmaster Dumbledore," Hyperion retorted. "You will receive a letter from the firm tomorrow regarding Lord Potter's education and my own." He turned to the twins, who were looking interested and worried. "A word, Mr.s Weasley?"

The three of them left the room. Hyperion led them up to Regulus' room and gestured for them to sit on the floor. He joined them.

"What do you-"

"-want to-"

"-talk about?"

"My client wishes to become a silent partner with your... business venture," Hyperion said carefully. Fred and George lit up. "His offering 3,000,000 G."

Their jaws dropped. "No way," Fred gasped.

"That's too much," George breathed.

"He does not think so," Hyperion shrugged. "And with a venture such as this, I would say it is too little. I suggested he up the amount to 10 mil."

Fred looked like he was going to faint, and George swallowed.

"Unfortunately, it appears someone has been stealing from his vaults, and he is unaware if he is able to pay this amount," Hyperion said calmly.

The twins scowled. "We're not sure if-" Fred began.

"-we can accept that amount," George finished.

"Gentlemen, do you know how much it takes to start a business -- particularly the one you wish to go into?" Hyperion questioned.

They shook their heads, looking a little sheepish.

"Four mil G, to start it. To keep it going, it will take another 2 thou."

Fred and George blanched. "We don't nearly have that much," Fred rasped.

"We've only got a thou," George choked.

"In that case, my client is willing to up the amount to 5 mil," Hyperion said patiently. Their eyes widened. "He will accept repayment in ten years."

"Five," Fred disagreed.

"Seven."

"And he can get anything he wants from the shop for free," Fred added.

Hyperion cocked his head. Finally he said, "Very well." He pulled out a scroll of paper, which glowed green briefly. "Our agreement, Mr.s Weasley."

Fred took it and the twins scanned it. They nodded.

"Do you have someone from Legal who will help you with the monetary issues?" Hyperion questioned.

"Not yet," Fred admitted.

"We were looking-"

"-but we couldn't find-"

"-someone we liked."

Hyperion smiled a little. "I would like to offer my services."

They exchanged glances. "What would your-"

"-arguments be-"

"-that would persuade us-"

"-to let you be-"

"-our solicitor."

In answer, Hyperion pulled out his wand, cast a few spells for privacy, and removed his glamour. The twins gaped.

"Do I only need one?" Harry questioned, lowering his wand.

Fred and George grinned.

Chapter Text

As soon as dinner was over, Hyperion slipped quietly up to Sirius' bedroom. He sat down on the floor at the end of the bed and pulled out a few legal documents.

The door opened. Hyperion could feel the gazes of two people that he knew well.

"Shut the door and put up protective spells," Hyperion said softly without looking up.

Sirius shut the door and Remus cast a few protective charms that would stop eavesdroppers from hearing anything. The next moment, Hyperion was in Remus arms, and the man was rasping, "Cub."

"Wait, what?" Sirius yelped. "Pup? You-"

Hyperion removed his glamour, rolling his eyes. "Yes, Sirius, it's me," he said exasperatedly, hugging the werewolf back. "I do, in fact, have a solicitor's license. The goblins taught me behind closed doors after my inheritance."

"Explains why you don't really look like yourself anymore," Sirius said warily.

He did, indeed, no longer look like a "specky git," as Fred had once said. He was taller, lither, with shoulder-length, silky obsidian hair, Avada Kedavra green eyes, and aristocratic features.

"You look good," Remus smiled as he pulled back. "You don't look like James, though."

Hyperion snorted. "That's because they're not my parents."

Sirius' jaw dropped, and Remus looked worried.

"What happened?" the werewolf asked quietly.

"It's a long story," Hyperion sighed. "May I sit down?"

Remus nodded, and Sirius plopped down on the floor. Hyperion and Remus snorted, but joined him.

"I suppose I should begin the day I was attacked by Dementors," Hyperion decided. "That is, of course, when everything went to s***."

"Language!"

----------

Harry was following Dudley's gang home at a distance, half-hoping to be spotted. At least that would add some interest to an otherwise excruciatingly boring summer. But he'd promised Sirius that he would keep his head down and not make any trouble. So he kept quiet.

Dudley's gang separated with goodbyes. Harry waited for them to disappear before joining Dudley.

"Oh," his cousin grunted. "It's you."

Harry just nodded. He was too tired to argue with Dudley all of a sudden, even if the anger that had been boiling inside of him all summer long was threatening to burst.

"What, not going to say anything, freak?" Dudley sneered. Harry gave him such a cold look that his cousin backed up, paling a little. "You keep away from me, or I'll tell Dad," he warned.

"Running to Daddy, now, Diddykins?" Harry asked softly, his voice daring Dudley to say anything more. "Is his ickle boxing champ afraid of a little freak?"

"Shut it!" Dudley snarled, looking terrified.

"Gladly. I'm too tired to deal with you today, Dudley, but I won't hesitate to defend myself." He pulled out his wand, waved it menacingly, and put it back.

"Dad'll kill you," Dudley hissed.

"Good. Then I might be able to finally rest," Harry spat at him. Dudley looked shocked.

Harry ignored him and stalked up the street, leaving Dudley standing stock still.

Suddenly, he stopped. The temperature was much too cold for a summer night, and it was steadily getting colder. That, and a feeling of despair was attempting to settle over him, but his anger wouldn't let it.

----------

Vernon Dursley was beside himself.

"How dare you!" he roared. "My son could have died!"

"No, he could have lost his soul," Harry snarled back.

Petunia shrieked. "You would have taken his soul?"

"I don't know a spell that can do that," Harry snapped at her. "It was-"

A fist collided with the side of his head. Harry was thrown across the room. "Don't lie to me, boy!" Vernon growled. "You used your magic on Dudley! You admitted it!"

"I was trying to wake him up, and I did!" Harry spat at him, as blood dribbled down his ear.

"QUIET! By the time I'm done with you, boy, you'll wish you'd never been born!"

I've wished that since I started living with you, Harry wanted to screech at him, but all that came out was a howl of pain as his uncle dragged him up the stairs by his hair.

----------

When Harry woke up, it was dark outside, and everything was on fire. He was also naked.

Harry remained still, although he wanted to sob. Any movement, he knew, would only worsen the pain.

I don't want to be here, he thought. Anywhere but here.

There was a flare of magic in the air, and darkness enveloped Harry. Then, with a sickening feeling as if he were being shoved through a tube the size of his fist, his blood-spattered bedroom disappeared and he reappeared in a small office.

There was a goblin behind the desk. He was in Gringotts.

The last thing Harry heard before losing consciousness was the goblin's shout of surprise.

----------

"Lord Potter, if you would kindly wake up, we have many things to discuss and you need healing."

Harry blinked.

He was lying on a cot in what looked like a medical wing. Standing over him was a familiar goblin -- not the one that had been in the office, but the one who had escorted him through Gringotts on his eleventh birthday. He absently noticed that he was wearing clothes again.

What he didn't so absently notice was that he had three extra appendages.

Harry tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness swept over him. So instead, he reached down with one hand and up with the other.

"Sir, why do I have cat ears and a tail?" Harry demanded.

Griphook smiled thinly. "You are a Neko. And a vampire. That is a rare combination, because usually, vampire offspring are very well taken care of."

Harry snorted. "What's a Neko?"

"A half-cat, half-human demon. One that only comes about when a wizard is abused," Griphook added quietly. "Unlike most other creatures, Nekos are not genetic. Vampires are... which means that Lily and James Potter are not your parents."

"What?!"

"However, you do not have the strength or the health to take a Blood Test or a Magical Aura Test," Griphook continued. "You will remain in our care until you are completely healed." He reached down, and Harry noticed a briefcase by the goblin's feet. "You have received several letters since arriving here. The Portkey enchantment on one has been disabled. Would you prefer to read the ones from the Ministry first?"

Harry nodded, thoroughly confused and extremely angry.

Apparently, the Ministry had attempted to expel Harry from Hogwarts, but Dumbledore had intervened -- slightly. Now he was to attend a trial in three weeks' time. The rest were letters from Dumbledore telling him to stay at his house, and then scolding him when he didn't. As if Harry had had a choice!

"As you are a minor, Lord Potter, you have the option of hiring a solicitor," Griphook told him. "I have a list of-"

"No," Harry interrupted. "I can't trust anyone. They could be a Death Eater."

"Then perhaps you would like to become a solicitor yourself," Griphook suggested.

"What now?"

Griphook smiled in a way that would make Dudley pee his pants. "We have a Time Chamber here." When Harry stared at him blankly, he continued, "It is a Chamber that freezes time. You are still allowed to move and learn inside the Chamber, but you do not age and time has no meaning. You could live twenty lifetimes inside the Chamber and still emerge when you entered it."

"So I can heal inside the Chamber and learn stuff to become a solicitor?" Harry asked.

"Yes, indeed. That will be one hundred Galleons."

"I don't have my key."

"That can be rectified."

----------

After what felt like twenty years to Harry (according to Griphook, solicitor training only took five) he emerged from the Time Chamber, fully healed and ready to defend himself at the trial. Apparently he couldn't actually defend himself, but Griphook had had a suggestion that would help Harry with his other problems, as well.

Inside the Chamber, he had also learned that Dumbledore, Molly Weasley, Ronald Weasley, and Ginevra Weasley had been stealing money from the Potter Lord Vault -- which he was supposed to have inherited when he turned seventeen. Harry hadn't taken a Blood Test as of yet, so he had no idea how many vaults he actually had. Griphook had told him that his father had been Lord Gryffindor, but he hadn't checked the Gryffindor vault yet.

So because Harry couldn't trust anyone, including the people he had thought he could trust, Griphook's suggestion had worked out fine for him.

"Only another solicitor can defend you, Lord Potter," the goblin had said. "With a glamour, a new name, and some falsified paperwork, you will be another solicitor."

So, Harry had taken a Blood Test so Griphook could find a close relative and falsify paperwork that presented Harry as their pretend Heir.

---------

"Who are your real parents?" Remus asked once Hyperion had finished telling them what had happened.

Hyperion flinched slightly. "I would prefer not to think about it. And..." he hesitated. "They are not... on the Order's side."

"Cub, you know we'd love you, no matter what," the werewolf said gently. Sirius nodded in agreement.

"I cannot trust Sirius' temper," Hyperion said flatly. "He would react badly if I told you, and I would rather not lose you as friends.... parents."

"P-parents?" Sirius sputtered.

Hyperion smiled slightly. "I consider you a father, Sirius -- goofy, reckless, and protective. And I consider Moony a mother -- responsible, and teaching me responsibility. As well as keeping you out of trouble," he added dryly.

Remus pulled him into another hug, laughing at Sirius' indignant, embarrassed expression.

"I love you to," Hyperion muttered into Remus' shirt.

Chapter Text

Hyperion was reading Muggleborn's Guide to Pureblood Culture when the door burst open. Sighing, he put the book away and gave Ronald and Ginny Weasley a cold look.

In a voice of ice, stopping the two from saying a word, "Would you care to explain, Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley, why you have burst into my compartment, quite rudely, without knocking?"

Ronald swallowed. Ginny declared, "We know you kidnapped Harry Potter!"

Hyperion raised an eyebrow. "Kidnapped? I assure you nothing of the sort happened, Miss Weasley. If anything, Headmaster Dumbledore was the one who did the kidnapping, fourteen years ago. He, legally, was not allowed to be my client's Guardian, magical or otherwise."

"Dumbledore wouldn't break the law!" Ronald sputtered indignantly.

"Oh? I have several folders' worth of the headmaster's illegal activities, Mr. Weasley," Hyperion drawled, "including your little war resistance group."

"What!" both of the idiots exclaimed.

"Hey, Perry-"

"-are these two-"

"-bothering you?"

Ronald and Ginny jumped when the twins appeared behind them, grinning.

"I have asked you not to call me that," Hyperion groaned. "Yes, they are bothering me. Kindly leave before I find a prefect, Mr. Ronald Weasley, Miss Weasley."

"Traitors!" Ronald hissed at Fred and George before the two of them left. Fred and George plopped down opposite him.

"What's wrong with-"

"-the nickname 'Perry?'" the twins asked.

"It's too reminiscent of a fictional platypus on a Muggle TV show Dudley Dursley was fascinated with," Hyperion complained. "'Per' will suffice."

"But that sounds like the fruit," Fred pointed out.

"Fitting, considering I am what most people would call 'a fruit.'"

Fred and George blinked, then burst out laughing.

For the next few hours, they chatted about this and that. Lee joined them a while later, and Hyperion introduced himself. An hour before they were supposed to arrive at Hogwarts, there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," Hyperion called.

Draco Malfoy opened the door. Behind him were Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

The twins noticed a quick succession of expressions cross Hyperion's face. Pain, anger, longing, and finally a careful blankness.

"Well met, Heir Malfoy," Hyperion said politely. The Slytherin looked startled. "Well met, Heir Crabbe, Heir Goyle."

"Well met, Lord Gray," Malfoy said cautiously. "Weasleys," he sneered.

"Well met-"

"-Heir Malfoy," the twins said cheerfully. Hyperion stifled a laugh.

"What is the purpose of your visit, Heir Malfoy?" Hyperion questioned.

"I wanted to know where Potter -- Lord Potter is," Malfoy answered. "Lord Gray," he added.

"I'm afraid the only people who are allowed to know Lord Potter's whereabouts are myself anyone Lord Potter has given written permission to know, Heir Malfoy," Hyperion answered.

Malfoy hesitated. "Is he alright?"

Hyperion stared at him. "From what my client told me, you hate him, Heir Malfoy." Malfoy winced. "Why do you care about him now? Is it because of the recent information about his home life? I assure you he does not enjoy when people pity him."

Malfoy didn't answer. "Is he alright?"

"Physically. That is all I can answer at this time," Hyperion replied. "Thank you for your concern, Heir Malfoy." It was a clear dismissal.

Malfoy nodded, said, "Well met, Lord Gray," and left.

"Okay, spill-"

"-the beans," the twins demanded.

"What?" Hyperion asked.

Fred and George turned to Lee, correctly interpreting his "confusion." "We'll see you later."

Lee glanced between them and sighed. "See you later." He followed the Malfoy heir out of the compartment, shutting the door behind him.

Hyperion cast a few spells to ensure privacy and said quietly, "He's my mate."

The twins cringed, looking worried and anxious.

Hyperion took a deep breath. "It's clear that he only cares about me if he's not the only one tormenting me," he said bluntly. "I'll make do." His voice shook slightly, and he changed the subject. "How are you doing on your newest products?"

Fred and George looked like they wanted to stay on the topic of Malfoy, but they didn't, deciding to distract Hyperion instead.

-----------

"We have a new student this year who is not a first year," the headmaster said with a smile. Hyperion was the only one who noticed the absence of the usual twinkle. "You know him from the Prophet. He has been  homeschooled the past few years, but now he is going to be an honored attendant of Hogwarts."

"Gray, Hyperion," McGonagall called.

Hyperion strode up to the Sorting Hat, ignoring the whispers that had sprung up at his name. He sat down and the Hat was placed on his head.

"Well, well, well," it said. "I didn't think I'd be sitting on your head again, Heir Sl-"

Place me in my rightful House, Hyperion interrupted, stopping him before he could say the name. He didn't need any more pain, thank you.

"I apologize," it said gently. "You may be surprised at what your real parents really think of you." It spoke aloud. "Slytherin!"

Hyperion set the Sorting Hat on the stool to yells of glee from the Slytherin House. He strode over to them, taking a seat beside Blaise Zabini. A safe bet -- the boy was quiet and watchful, but also unnoticed.

Dumbledore stood up again and was about to continue when Hermione stood. "I request a resort," she said firmly.

"What!" Ronald exclaimed, as several of the Gryffindor House either protested or looked relieved.

Dumbledore looked startled. "Are you sure, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Hermione declared.

The twins stood. "We request-"

"-a resort-"

"-too."

"Sit down," McGonagall snapped, barely heard over Ronald's shout of anger.

"You can't make us," Fred said coldly.

"It's against the school charter," George agreed.

Hermione climbed over the bench and strode over to the stool. The twins quickly followed. McGonagall scowled but let Hermione take a seat.

"Ravenclaw!" the Hat bellowed.

The Ravenclaw table applauded politely as Hermione walked over. She nodded a little to Hyperion, and he nodded back.

Unsurprisingly, both twins were immediately sorted into Slytherin, which caused shouts of fury from the Gryffindors and alarmed yelps from the Slytherins.

"What the h***!" shouted a seventh year Slytherin as the grinning duo sat down on either side of Hyperion. "We'll never win the House Cup now! They'll lose all our points!"

"Challenge-"

"-accepted!" the twins grinned.

"Ten Galleons we won't-"

"-lose any points for our new House."

"You will lose that bet if you don't stop talking," Hyperion pointed out dryly.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, and silence fell. "Thank you.

"Well, now that we are all digesting an other magnificent feast-"

The doors burst open and Madam Bones entered, followed by Lucius Malfoy -- Hyperion groaned inwardly -- and several Aurors.

"Ah," Dumbledore said tightly. "May I introduce Madam Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE, and Lord Lucius Malfoy, head of the school board? They will be conducting an investigation of the school."

"We've brought your new Defense professor as well," Madam Bones said sharply. "Lord Thorfinn Rowle." The Aurors parted, and a tall blond man stepped forward.

Hyperion smiled a little. While a Death Eater, Rowle was still the perfect choice. He was a Dueling tutor during the summer, and several children, regardless of blood status, had learned from him. He had a very high rating and was well-liked and respected.

Except, apparently, by Dumbledore, who was hiding his annoyance behind a grandfatherly smile. "Welcome, welcome," he said warmly. "Please, sit."

The group joined the other staff, and Dumbledore continued.

"We have another staff change this year; we welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons."

There was polite applause.

"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the fifteenth. If you would like to sign up, talk to the captain of your House team.

"And now, time for bed; off you go."

Hyperion stood up with the other Slytherins and was about to leave when Lucius Malfoy approached. "You are Lord Potter's solicitor?"

"I am, Lord Malfoy," Hyperion said coolly. "Well met."

"Well met, Lord Gray," the man said, looking a little startled. "I would like to have a word with you about your client."

"You can tell your... boss that any of his questions have already been answered in the Prophet, or at least, the answers he is going to get," Hyperion said sharply. "I know about you, Lord Malfoy, and I am not one to be trifled with. Good night."

He left Malfoy standing there, looking a combination of impressed and wary.

Voldemort was going to find another way to talk to him, Hyperion knew... but he had already underestimated him, and he was going to do it again.

Chapter Text

Hyperion followed Blaise up to the fifth-year dormitories, fingers crossed. Of course, with his luck, he would get... him.

"Vince and Greg are dorm mates, even though they're in a relationship -- Professor Snape turns a blind eye as long as they keep it PG," Blaise added. "Nott and I are also dorm mates, although we can't stand each other."

Of f***ing course, Hyperion thought, hiding his anger. I have to room with-

The door at the end of the hall burst open and Draco marched out, carrying a towel, a bag of toiletries, and a change of clothes. "I need to borrow your shower," he said abruptly to Blaise, before blanching when he saw Hyperion.

"Whatever for?" Blaise demanded. "Don't tell me you-"

"It got clogged again," Draco said, a slight note of anxiety in his voice.

"Then no," Blaise said sharply. "If you want a shower, fix it yourself."

"I don't know the spell," Draco muttered.

Hyperion spoke up reluctantly. "My client continuously clogged my shower, making it necessity for me to learn the spell. Would you like me to unclog your shower drain, Heir Malfoy?"

He heard a snide laugh. "Only here for one day, and you already got the new guy flirting with you, Malfoy."

Nott came out of the door beside them, swaying a little. Draco's usually pale skin had gone whiter, while Blaise glared at the boy.

"Draco got his shower drain clogged again, Mr. Nott," Blaise snapped. Nott's eyes flared with anger.

"Ah," Hyperion said lazily. "Mr. Nott. Your father's name is well-known among the firm, especially those taught by the goblins."

Nott went paler than Draco.

Nott's father, who had been sentenced for life because he had been a Death Eater, had been spying on the other solicitors for Voldemort. Unfortunately, most of his crimes against the firm hadn't been discovered.

"I wonder how much longer a sentence your father might have if the Ministry gained knowledge of his underground crimes, Mr. Nott?" Hyperion mused innocently. Nott's face turned a nasty gray. "It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Nott. Hopefully we will not have a problem with each other. We are, after all, in the same House." He nodded to the shaking boy and stalked past Draco -- was he blushing?

Blaise caught up to Hyperion and Draco followed a distance. "Nice," Blaise grinned. "I don't think Nott will be a problem for a while now."

Hyperion just nodded and opened the door to the dorm he shared with Draco.

It was a small room with two beds. Doors on either side led into separate bathrooms.

"Where is your shower, Heir Malfoy?" Hyperion asked.

"Draco's fine," the pale boy mumbled, and pointed wordlessly to the bathroom to the left.

"You... may call me Hyperion," Hyperion decided. Hopefully they wouldn't spend too much time together.

Chapter Text

The next day, Snape was waiting for him in the common room.

"The headmaster would like to speak to you," he said sourly.

"Do you know what he would like to speak about, Professor?" Hyperion asked, hiding his anger behind his usual cold mask.

"Your client, I believe."

"Tell him that unless he wishes to discuss my client's schooling, it is illegal for me to meet with him," Hyperion said bluntly.

"I am not your personal owl, Mr. Gray," Snape said icily.

"Well, I suppose the headmaster would know that anyway, given that he is, after all, headmaster," Hyperion drawled. "Is there anything else you wanted to say to me, Professor?"

"Not at the moment, Mr. Gray," Snape sneered.

"Then after class, perhaps?" Hyperion suggested.

"Very well." Snape left.

Blaise appeared beside him. "He's like that with everyone," he told Hyperion. "Don't take it personally."

"My client," Hyperion said dryly, "believes that it is personal... at least, it was with him."

"Yeah, well, everyone in Slytherin knows how much Professor Snape hated James Potter," Blaise pointed out, as the two of them left the common room.

"That hardly gives him an excuse to bully his son," Hyperion replied with a faint note of venom.

"No, it doesn't," Blaise agreed. "I'm just saying, it's understandable that seeing the child of his deceased honorary sister and bully and having lost his own child might have a toll on his mind."

Hyperion halted. "Lost his child?" He had assumed that no one had known about Snape's child.

Blaise stopped, too, and looked back at him. "I figured you should know, because you're a Slytherin now," Blaise shrugged. He cast "Muffliato" and continued. "A few weeks before Lord Potter was attacked by the Dark Lord, Professor Snape's child mysteriously disappeared. He was devastated, and the Dark Lord kind of lost his mind with grief."

"Did Professor Snape assume the child was dead?" Hyperion asked cautiously, now having a new understanding of Voldemort and Snape.

"One of the unspoken Slytherin rules is: never assume anything," Blaise said seriously. "They both hope that he's alive, somewhere, although he's probably under the control of Dumbledore."

"They... the Dark Lord and Professor Snape are married?" Hyperion started, a mask of surprise on his face.

Blaise grinned. "Yes, everyone was surprised when they heard that. Although a couple of them -- kids of the Inner Circle -- traded Galleons around. It was kind of obvious, if you know how to read emotions."

Hyperion gave Blaise a curious look.

"Ask me no questions, and I shall tell you no lies," Blaise said brightly. He removed the charm. "Breakfast?"

Rolling his eyes, Hyperion followed the Italian boy down to the Great Hall.

----------

Lord Tom Marvolo Slytherin-Prince Junior,

I request a meeting at the Three Broomsticks on the first Saturday of October. Preferably after the other students have returned. I would not like our conversation to be overheard by a Dumbledore fanatic.

You may bring two of your Inner Circle Death Eaters, the ones you trust the most. I will be bringing two of my associates. My client would like to discuss a peace charter.

Sincerely,

Lord Hyperion Gray, Solicitor

Lord Hyperion Gray,

I will gladly accept your proposal. I would like to know beforehand which two associates you are bringing. I, myself, will be accompanied by Lord Lucius Malfoy and Consort Severus Slytherin-Prince. Will your client be joining us?

Sincerely,

Lord Tom Marvolo Slytherin-Prince Junior, Dark Lord

---------

Two weeks after returning to Hogwarts, Hyperion was dragged into an abandoned classroom. He was about to pull out his wand and defend himself, but he found himself facing a worried-looking Hermione Granger.

"Miss Granger," Hyperion said, casting a few secrecy charms.

"Harry," Hermione returned.

Hyperion snorted and removed his glamour. "Why am I not surprised? How long have you known, dear Mia?"

"Since we got back to school and I was able to research glamours," Hermione said cautiously.

Hyperion opened his arms in invitation. Hermione threw herself into his embrace. "I was so worried!" she sobbed into his shoulder. Hyperion rubbed circles into his sister's back soothingly.

"I'm pleased I don't have to keep my secret from you any longer," Hyperion said softly, kissing her bushy hair. "Mia, I have a proposition for you. Two, actually."

Hermione pulled back, wiping tears from her eyes. "Yes?" she asked.

"On the first weekend of October -- the first Hogsmeade weekend -- I am meeting with the Dark Lord to come up with a peace charter," Hyperion said. Hermione's eyes widened a little. "I agree with his true ideas -- introducing Muggleborns to the magical world earlier, making sure all magical children are being properly cared for, giving creatures, Dark or otherwise, the same rights as all other wizards -- and I am tired of being the wizarding world's scapegoat."

Hermione nodded, looking mystified.

"When making a peace charter, both sides are allowed to bring up to three people: the two leaders and the two people they trust the most," Hyperion explained. "I was hoping you would be one of them."

Hermione lit up. "Of course I'll come. You really trust me?"

"With my life," Hyperion said solemnly, before he had an armful of delighted Ravenclaw.

After a long moment, Hermione, still cuddled in Hyperion's arms, asked, "What was the other thing you wanted to ask me?"

"Have you heard of blood siblings?"

---------

Lord Tom Marvolo Slytherin-Prince Junior,

My client does not want to be recaptured by Dumbledore, so you will not see him at the meeting. The two who will be joining us are Consort Remus Lupin-Black and my client's Blood Sister, Miss Hermione Potter-Granger.

I will see you in October.

Sincerely,

Lord Hyperion Gray, Solicitor

Chapter Text

"Well, good afternoon!" Umbridge said with a smile that made Hyperion want to strangle her.

"Good afternoon," the Slytherins immediately replied. A few of the Ravenclaws followed suit.

"Tut, tut," Umbridge said sweetly. Beside him, Hermione wrinkled her nose. "That won't do, will it? I should like you, please, to reply, 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge."

Hyperion rubbed his face, and Hermione stifled a giggle.

"Mr. Gray, you have something to say?" Umbridge asked sweetly.

"No, Professor Umbridge," Hyperion said bluntly. "And you are to address me as Lord Gray."

"You are no longer inside the Ministry, Mr. Gray," Umbridge said softly.

"I do not cease being a Lord outside of the Ministry, Professor Umbridge," Hyperion said with a faint note of ice.

Umbridge paled a little. "Wands away and quills out, please."

Hyperion and Hermione exchanged looks as the Ravenclaws immediately looked disappointed and the Slytherins looked wary.

Umbridge extracted her incredibly short wand from her own bag and tapped the blackboard sharply with it. Words appeared:

Defense Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles

"Well, now," she said briskly, "your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it? The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry approved curriculum-"

Hyperion raised his hand, and she tensed. "Yes, Lord Gray?"

"Hogwarts operates separately from the Ministry, so of course none of the curriculums were approved by said Ministry," Hyperion said firmly. "However, they have been approved by the school board, many of which are friends with the Minister."

Blaise smirked, and several of the Slytherins stifled snickers. Draco looked a little dazed.

"I... yes," Umbridge said carefully. "However, the Minister has reviewed the previous lessons, and discovered that many of your teachers were not approved by the board. Specifically the half-breed and the retired Auror."

Hyperion let out a quiet hiss of anger. His vampire was attempting to break out and destroy this creature-hater, but if he did that, he would definitely be arrested.

Immediately, several hands raised.

"Yes...?" Umbridge asked, eyes on Goldstein.

"While they weren't approved by the board," Goldstein said calmly, "we learned twice as much as we would have, and while Auror Moody was a little terrifying, both teachers were very talented at teaching. Minus the whole using-the-Imperius-on-us bit. And compared to Professor Quirrell, who stammered so much we couldn't understand him half the time, as well as attempted to steal a powerful artifact that the headmaster was hiding here, and Professor Lockhart, who was a complete fraud, they were really good teachers."

Hyperion blinked. He hadn't known the Ravenclaws knew about the Sorcerer's Stone.

"Honestly, Per," Hermione whispered amusedly, "they're Ravenclaws. The entire House knew what Dumbledore was hiding three weeks after he announced that the third floor corridor was off-limits."

Ah.

"...it may," Umbridge was saying, looking extremely flustered, "it is against the law for Lupin to teach students, and Moody, as you said, used an unforgivable on you." She cleared her throat and said, "So this year, we will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

She tapped the board again.

Course Aims:

1. Understanding the principles of underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

Hyperion frowned. They weren't going to learn how to use defensive spells?

Hermione had noticed this as well, and she as well as several other Ravenclaws were raising their hands.

"Self studying!" Blaise hissed to Hermione. "Pass it down."

Hermione lowered her hand, scowling a little, and whispered to Goldstein. He lowered his own hand, understanding flooding his eyes, and leaned over to Michael Corner.

Once they'd finished writing it down, Umbridge told them to read chapter one of Defensive Magical Theory. Hyperion, who had already read the entire book, sighed and shoved it away from him. It was full of claptrap that wouldn't help anyone, let alone children. He pulled out his Transfiguration homework.

"Lord Gray," Umbridge said sweetly, "you are not reading."

"I have read the entire book, Professor," Hyperion answered dully.

She raised her eyebrows. "The entire book?"

"Yes, I read all of the required books this summer, to understand the material better, Professor," Hyperion said boredly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, madam, I am attempting to do my schoolwork. You are not going to stop me, are you?" he asked with a shark's grin.

She glared at him and retreated. Hyperion exchanged smirks with Blaise, who had also abandoned the book and was doing Charms homework, and began to write.

Chapter Text

Hyperion joined Hermione with the other students heading to Hogsmeade. As they headed into Hogsmeade, they heard a shout behind them.

"Gray! Hermione!"

Hermione soured immediately and Hyperion glared as Ron and Ginny approached. "You are to address me as Lord Gray."

"Hermione, I need someone to go dress shopping with me!" Ginny said, ignoring him entirely.

"I'm busy, Ginny," Hermione said cooly.

"Hermione, you can't want to stay with this slimy snake-" Ron began.

"Serpents' scales are not slimy, Mr. Weasley," Hyperion snorted. "They're actually quite smooth. And secondly, I am taking Hermione to meet her bonded brother. Ah, and here is our escort."

Remus came up the street towards them, smiling. "Hey, Per, Mia. How are you?"

"Professor Lupin?" Ron asked in surprise.

"His proper title is Consort Black, Ronald," Hermione said sharply, and Remus blushed again. Ginny wrinkled her nose, and Ron glared at her.

"I need to get back to Snuffles, can we hurry?" Remus said anxiously. Hyperion knew that Sirius would be worrying twice as much, as his godson and husband were going to be talking to a Dark Lord.

"Yes, of course," Hyperion agreed. "We are meeting the others in the Three Broomsticks."

"We want to come to!" Ron said angrily.

"Make an appointment, Mr. Weasley," Hyperion snapped. "Not at the moment!" he added when Ginny opened her mouth. He marched away, followed quickly by Remus and Hermione.

Lucius Malfoy, Severus Slytherin-Prince, and a handsome man with golden hair and gray eyes were sitting at one of the tables near the door. Hyperion concentrated, and was temporarily able to see through the glamour on the blonde, revealing a thirty-year-old version of Tom Riddle with amber eyes.

The Dark Lord tried to stand up when Hyperion walked up to them, but he waved them off. "We cannot have the meeting here," he said quietly, tilting his head towards the entrance, where Ron and Ginny were (failing at) hiding.

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "What do you suggest?"

"I knew we would be followed, so I prepared a Portkey ahead of time," Hyperion said calmly. "It will take us to one of my client's properties -- Gryffindor manor."

Malfoy's eyes widened, and Snape frowned.

Tom studied him for a moment before nodding. Hyperion pulled out a pencil.

"What is that?" Malfoy frowned. Hyperion sniggered.

"It's a pencil, Lord Malfoy," Hermione explained. "It's a Muggle thing."

Hyperion placed the pencil in the middle of the table, and the six wizards reached forward and touched it.

"Oy!" Ron yelled, barging in just as the Portkey activated.

A moment later, they were standing in the gardens in front of a beautiful golden manor. Hyperion stumbled -- he had never managed to get used to magical transportation.

"Potter?" Snape guessed at once. Malfoy's and Tom's eyes widened.

"My client is not the only wizard who is clumsy with Portkeys, Consort Slytherin-Prince," Hyperion snapped.

"If you had been less defensive, we would have believed you," Tom said dryly.

Hyperion cursed, then removed his glamour. Tom choked, and Hyperion gave him a fake confused look.

"Shall we have the meeting?" Hyperion asked coldly. "Binny!"

A house-elf appeared. "Master Potter be calling Binny?"

"Prepare some snacks and drinks for my guests," Hyperion ordered.

"What be Master Potter's guests wanting for drinking?" Binny asked, turning to the others.

"Just water, thank you," Hermione replied.

"Tea," Remus answered.

"Severus and I will have the Sanguis Elixir," Voldemort said calmly. Binny nodded and turned to Malfoy.

Malfoy sneered, and Hyperion said icily, "If you treat my house-elf with disrespect, you can remain outside, Lord Malfoy."

The man blanched. "Tea, p-lease."

Snape smirked at him, and Malfoy glared back. Hermione muffled a giggle behind her hand.

Binny beamed at Hyperion before saying, "Binny will be being back." He disappeared with a pop.

Hyperion led the group into the sitting room, which was more like a war room -- a huge table covered in a map of Great Britain, several bookshelves on warfare, and medieval weapons everywhere. The seats around the table were very comfy armchairs, most of which were gold or red. There was only one green one with silver threading. Hyperion sat down in one of the red ones and watched Malfoy and Snape quietly bickering over the green chair.

"Cub," Remus sighed, taking a seat next to him.

"You're no fun, Moony," Hyperion sighed, pulling out his wand and flicking it. Two more chairs turned silver and green. Voldemort gave him an amused look that had a faint amount of pain in his gaze, and he took a seat next to his husband, who had won the argument and was sitting in the chair Malfoy and he had been fighting over. With a huff, Malfoy took the other seat, and, giggling, Hermione sat down between Hyperion and Voldemort.

Hyperion had known that his new appearance would be recognizable to Voldemort, but not Snape, because he had so much blind hatred for Harry Potter. He also knew Voldemort would never comment on it if Hyperion pretended to be ignorant of his real parentage, because Voldemort would not want to be rejected. And Voldemort would never tell Snape, to spare his husband the feelings of horror and guilt.

"Pot -- Lord Potter," Snape said, looking a little constipated at calling him that, "I have many questions."

"I will gladly explain after the meeting," Hyperion retorted. "Lord Voldemort-" that would be the proper title now that they had started the contract "-I have been researching your true ideals, and I agree with most of them."

"Most of, Lord Potter?" Tom queried, leaning forward with interest. "I am assuming you are talking about the Muggleborn reformation, considering your bonded sister is a Muggleborn?"

Hermione stiffened.

"Indeed," Hyperion said coolly. "I disagree with many of the ideas purebloods have about Muggleborns and those who are Muggle-raised."

"You are not well-informed about Muggleborns, Lord Potter," Malfoy pointed out shrewdly.

"I am, actually, Lord Malfoy," Hyperion said darkly. "Not only am I Hermione's brother, but I was raised by Muggles myself."

Snape tensed, and Malfoy's eyes widened.

"Dumbledore informed Severus that you were being raised by pureblood relatives," Voldemort said lazily.

"Hah!" Hyperion barked. "Highly clever of him. Before today, you would never think to ask me otherwise. I was not raised by purebloods, Lord Voldemort," he said with a quiet snarl. "I was raised by magic-hating Muggles -- Lily's sister Petunia and her husband."

Snape recoiled in horror, and Voldemort's eyes flashed with anger. "Is he mad?"

"You know her?" Hyperion drawled.

"Unfortunately," Snape hissed.

"I would like to discuss finding out whether Muggleborns are being treated well at home," Hyperion added. "I am not the only one who suffered because they were raised by Muggles who hate, do not understand, or fear magic."

Voldemort grimaced. "I agree. You said you could defend Muggleborns and those who are Muggle-raised?"

"Yes, I can," Hyperion agreed. "The reasons Muggleborns attempt to change wizarding traditions with their own is one, because they are stepping into an entirely new world, and two, because they know nothing of our traditions and cannot learn. As for the 'unworthiness' of Muggleborns, the reason they have magic is because they are descended from Squibs. For example, my dear sister is descended from Magorian Lestrange, the Squib great-great-great-grandfather of the Lestrange brothers."

Malfoy blanched, and Hermione smiled sweetly at him. Her new look made it twice as terrifying.

Hyperion and Hermione had discovered that she was descended from the Lestranges after taking the potion that would make them blood-siblings. Very few things were supposed to change in Hermione's appearance, as only a little of her DNA would change to match Hyperion's, but not only had her eyes turned the same Avada Kedavra green as his, her hair had also turned sleek and ebony. It wasn't the same color as Hyperion's jet-black hair, so he suggested a Gringotts blood test.

It had been very revealing.

"What do you suggest, then?" Voldemort asked curiously.

--------

Official Contract Between Lord Voldemort and Lord Potter:

1. Muggleborns

      I. The Ministry will search for Muggleborns when they are the age when they perform accidental magic. They will be given the option of moving to a wizarding village or putting wards on their house.
     II. The Ministry will immediately investigate the parents of the Muggleborn to find out whether they are properly taken care of or not. If they are not being properly taken care of or show signs of physical or emotional abuse, they will be taken from the Muggle parents and given to their pureblood relatives. The Ministry will conduct investigations on them every month to be sure that their new parents are taking care of the child. If they are not, they will be given to the next closest magical relative.
           A. The child must have all necessities for living: a place to sleep, clothing, a sufficient amount of food and water, etc.
           B. The child must have all necessities for happiness: personal items, a place for their personal items, encouragement, love, etc.
          C. The child must have all necessities for education, both in the Muggle world and without.
          D. The child must have all necessities for healing, both in the Muggle world and without.
    III. Muggleborns, upon learning they are magical, will take a Blood Test. They will immediately be introduced to the purebloods they are related to, who will instruct them on the magical world and magical traditions. The Ministry will conduct an investigation after a month; if the child is being physically or emotionally abused, then they will be taught by the next closest magical relative.
   IV. Upon coming of age, they will be asked if they are going to work in the Muggle world or the magical world. If they decide to work in the Muggle world and/or keep in contact with their Muggle relatives, they must take a magical oath not to talk about the Magical world or anything pertaining to it to any non-Magical person. Their Muggle parents must sign a Muggle contract to keep silent about the Magical world as well.
   V. Muggleborns will be "Lord" or "Lady" of the house of the descendant of the Squib. i.e. Dirk Cresswell will be Lord Cresswell.

2. Half-Human Creatures (Vampires, Werewolves, Veela, etc.)

    (...)

3. Dark Magic

    (...)

4. Dark Wizards

    (...)

5. Dark Creatures (Dementors, Inferi, etc.)

    (...)

6. The Order of the Phoenix/Dumbledore

    (...)

Signatures of the Leaders:

Lord Tom Marvolo Slytherin-Prince

Lord Hyperion Gray (In Absentia)

Signatures of the Witnesses:

Consort Severus Tobias Slytherin-Prince (Foederata Voldemort)

Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy (Foederata Voldemort)

Consort Remus John Black (Foederata Potter)

Lady Hermione Jean Granger (Foederata Potter)

"And how do you plan on passing all of these laws? Fudge is unlikely to honor this, considering he believes I am dead."

"First, I am going to remove him from office."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"You will see..."

Chapter Text

Professor Rowle -- "Call me Thor, 'Professor' makes me sound old" -- was an amazing teacher. He combined all of the topics in DADA: curses, creatures, dueling, and even added a fourth category: strategy. He also created Clubs for those who wanted to learn more in each section. They became so popular that a majority of the school attended them anyway.

The Defense Against Curses Club (DACC) provided instruction on the Darkest of curses and the counter-spells for most of them, as several Dark curses did not have counters. Thor provided magical dummies that could shoot spells back at you.

While the Creatures Club did teach students how to defend themselves against said creatures -- including creatures no one had heard of before -- it also taught the history and culture of the half-human or humanoid creatures, like vampires, werewolves, or the Fae kingdoms. Thor made it very clear that "half-breeds" were not evil, but, like humans, had the capability to be good or evil. If you treated them with respect, they would treat you with respect. He occasionally brought in guests from other half-human or humanoid kingdoms. Hyperion's favorite had been the vampire king's brother, Alder Prince, who seemed to be a combination of Sirius, Remus, and Snape -- intelligent and cunning, but with a hint of mischief.

There was already a Dueling Club, but Professor Flitwick was more than happy to let Thor teach his "apprentices." It transformed from a gossip club to almost a dueling academy. Thor started the first meetings with a duel against Flitwick, then proceeded to hand out a list of spells that were acceptable at different duels and countries. According to the list, Britain had much less spells you could cast, and none of them were Dark. The rest of the meetings included teaching them a spell on Britain's list and a counter-spell to one of the spells on the other lists. The end of each meeting, the co-heads of the group would each pick one student who had shown intelligence, quick learning, kindness, etc. and have the two students mock duel.

The last club, Defense Strategy, was Hyperion's favorite. Each meeting was different. Sometimes, Thor would have each of them complete a puzzle or a riddle. Occasionally he would bring in a Muggle strategy game. Then there would be the codes -- Muggle codes or Wizarding codes. He would put a message on the board and they would have to find out which code it was and translate it. The winner would get a prize.

And then there was the War Games. Each Club had been divided into teams on the first day, which had one person from each House. At the beginning of the year, Thor chose four teams of eight -- two people from all four Houses -- from the Clubs that would receive a coded message or riddle that provided a clue for each event, all of which included something they had learned from the Clubs. Some events were done in secret, and some were completed in front of the entire school. All of them were difficult but fun. The team who completed the game first or won the most points would receive a homework pass and some form of sugar. Thor hinted that at the end of the year, there would be a final competition that everyone would compete in, and the prize was ten times better than the Triwizard Tournament winnings.

Hyperion wondered if this had to do with recruiting, showing purebloods and Muggleborns that they were wrong about each other, or noting which wizards loyal to Dumbledore needed to be watched.

---------

The bell rang at the end of class, and there was a simultaneous sigh of relief from the students around him -- it was officially break. Before they could start putting their things away, Thor called their attention.

"I know you want to get going with your holiday break," Thor said, "so I'll make this brief. I know most of you will be celebrating Christmas, but for those of you who are curious, I have books that explain Wizarding holiday traditions."

Several of the Slytherins exchanged excited looks. Hermione gave Hyperion a curious, interested expression.

"Sirius will have books on Samhain and Yule," Hyperion whispered to her. "We will be celebrating Yule and Christmas, however. Would you like to invite your parents?"

Hermione's eyes flashed with anger, but Thor interrupted.

"Stay back if you would like a copy," he smiled. "Class dismissed. Happy Yule, Merry Christmas."

The class echoed back with "Happy Yule," confusing the Muggleborns.

"Wait for me?" Hyperion asked Blaise and Hermione. The two nodded and Hyperion headed over to Thor's desk, where he was handing out books to the few Muggleborns in Ravenclaw. Hyperion knew that the Muggleborns in Slytherin had been told about pureblood traditions the moment they set foot in Slytherin House, so they wouldn't need copies.

"Lord Gray," Thor said in surprise when the line had died down. "I didn't think you needed to know about Yule and Samhain."

"I do not," Hyperion agreed. "There is something else I would like to ask you."

Thor studied him curiously. "All right." The last of the students left, and Hermione shut the door. "What do you need?"

Hyperion pulled out his wand and cast a few Anti-Eavesdropping charms. Thor raised a brow. "Unless Voldemort has not spoken to you, you will already know that I, representing my client, and your Dark Lord have written a peace treaty." Unlike most people, Thor didn't flinch at the Dark Lord's name.

Thor's expression remained blank. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know you are a Death Eater," Hyperion said calmly. "And I have a copy of the treaty here." He pulled a scroll of paper from his bag and removed the concealment charm on it.

The professor scanned it, eyes widening the further he read. "I had... no idea that Lord Potter would..."

"How he came to agree with Lord Voldemort's ideals is a very long story," Hyperion said.

"How do you and the Dark Lord plan to put this into action?" Thor asked, eyes shrewd. "You need me," he guessed.

Hyperion smiled. "I do, indeed. I have a plan to remove Minister Fudge from office and replace him. I had a list of Death Eaters that would be a good candidate, including you." Thor looked startled. "Fudge's term does not end until next year, but that is far too long to wait and he will just re-run. I need to both have him impeached and lower the populace's opinion of him."

"What do you need me to do?" Thor asked.

"First, I need you to unearth Fudge's skeletons...."

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Lord Gray,

I was surprised to find a lot more than you suggested. I sent the proof, as you suggested, to Rita Skeeter. I am not sure what blackmail you have on the poor thing but she was very eager to help you. Here are some of the highlights:

Fudge has been cheating on his wife with a Muggle, to whom he has shown magic.

While running for office, his opponent disappeared mysteriously. An investigation was conducted but nothing was found until now -- Fudge blackmailed the man into withdrawing and running to Fiji.

Originally he was going to put Dolores Umbridge, Undersecretary to the Minister, as the Defense professor, and have her spy on Dumbledore while torturing the students with Blood Quills.

That's not even everything, just the worst parts. By the time Miss Skeeter is done with him, his reputation will be in the gutter and he will be in Azkaban.

Lord Rowle

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The Minister for Lies, Blackmail, and Torture

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Minister Malfoy Immediately Begins "Reforming" the Ministry