HP: Fairborn Adventures

February 15th, 1976

Harry watched as the blood sprawled from the severed neck of Lucius Malfoy while the head fell to the cold ground with a heavy THUD. It rolled a few feet until it came to a rest, staring upwards into the bright blue sky with wide frozen gray eyes... The remaining body of the man dropped backwards, its limbs sprawled to the side.

"The winner of the Duel of Honor is Harry Ignotus Peverell!" the unmistakable voice of Dumbledore echoed over the silent Quidditch pitch. There were no cheers, no joyfulness, no clapping... Not that Harry thought they would be appropriate.

"MY SON!" Someone screamed from the edge of the pitch: "HE MURDERED MY SON!"

The adrenaline was still running high, and Harry would not mind dispatching another Malfoy six feet deep. He swirled around and held his wand at the ready, but the man was quickly overwhelmed by two Aurors before he could even step on the pitch. His curses faded away as he was escorted away from the site. Harry's gaze returned to the massacred form of Lucius Malfoy. He had killed the man...

The feeling should be familiar. Harry had taken a life before in his first year when he used his mother's protection to melt the skin and flesh of Quirrell's face. However, back then, it had been self-defense. This time, it was different. It was deliberate… And intentional. Lucius had practically been beaten already. Casting the killing curse had been the man's last attempt to prolong the inevitable.

Yet, when Harry saw the bright green light head towards him, something had snapped inside. All he felt was rage and power and the desire to see the light flicker from his opponent's eyes for eternity. The strange thing was that he did not feel any remorse either... He watched as the wind played with the sleeve of Malfoy's Slytherin green robes while he was lifted upwards by two Aurors. It allowed Harry to take a peek at a pale forearm, tainted by the edge of a black tattoo.

So, the man had indeed taken up the Mark already. The Dark Mark was not freely given... It was earned and Harry did not even want to think about what Malfoy must have done to earn his mark. Memories of everything Lucius Malfoy had ever done in his original tie line flickered before his eyes:

At the end of his second year, the man had pulled his wand on Harry and would have cursed him, a twelve-year-old boy, if it had not been for Dobby's interference. Lucius Malfoy had also mocked him in the Graveyard when a fourteen-year-old Harry had been tortured repeatedly and challenged to a duel by Lord Voldemort. Malfoy had furthermore participated in the Battle of the Department of mysteries and had cast numerous lethal curses on Harry's friends, all of them children... The man was rotten to the core... Undoubtedly the world would be better off without Lucius Malfoy.

Still, the way he died was rather gruesome... Once again, Harry had no idea what kind of spell he just performed. He did not deny that the two scythes were extremely effective, but where did this magic come from? Was this perhaps the Peverell family magic that finally manifested itself inside Harry?

His musings were interrupted as warm fingers grasped his own and he was led off the pitch. A second later, a firm hand landed on his shoulder: "You did what you had to do, Harry. Taking a life is never easy, but you will be fine." Charlus Potter told him while Harry was ushered away by Dorea.

"I know. This is not the first time I have killed..." Harry murmured as he looked up and allowed for his eyes to roam over the masses of students and spectators that were all observing him while whispering with their neighbors. Charlus and Dorea both seem very surprised by his remark but continued to lead Harry away from the pitch.

The first people that congratulated him were James, Sirius, and the other Marauders. They were followed by a few more people from his house, including his mother, who engulfed him in a fierce hug and assured him that he was not evil, but that his hand had been forced. The Longbottom and a few other prominent families offered their congratulations, just as was custom. Last but not least, a family of five, each with honey blonde hair stood in front of him.

Harry's gaze flickered over Marlene, standing between her two brothers. Her eyes, usually a cold piercing blue, were slightly teary and dwelled with emotions. Harry could almost read them... Understanding, pity, sorrow, and above all incredible relief. Her leg twitched forward as if she had to stop herself from running over to him and throw her arms around his neck. Harry felt just the same...

"Mr. Peverell..." Marlene's father stepped in front of his family and approached him: "...In the name of the McKinnons, allow me to congratulate you on your victory. You fought very well and honorably today. Don't let anyone tell you differently."

"Thank you, Lord McKinnon." Harry shook the offered limb firmly without breaking eye contact: "Your family's praise means a lot to me."

"Allow me to introduce my wife..." The man gestured for the tall blonde woman next to him to step forward. Her hair was almost the same shade as her daughter's, but her eyes were a few shades darker. Nevertheless, she was still a very beautiful woman.

"Lady McKinnon..." Harry accepted the woman's hand and brushed his lips against the back: "It is exceedingly evident where your daughter gets her beauty from, my Lady."

"You know Marlene, Mr. Peverell?" The woman raised a delicate eyebrow in curiosity as her eyes roamed over him from head to toe.

"It is certainly hard to overlook her in the occasional class we share. Her brilliance and her intelligence make her stand out among her peers." Harry shot the woman a warm smile and noticed how Marlene blushed out of the corner of his eyes, something that did not go unnoticed by the Potters and Marlene's two brothers: "In addition, we are both members of Professor Slughorn's small get-togethers." Harry added in an attempt to make their relationship not seem too obvious.

"He still hosts those then?" Dorea laughed behind him while turning to her husband: "It was during one of those meetings that Charlus finally gathered his Gryffindor courage to ask me out."

The Potters exchanged greetings with Marlene's parents and did some small talk. Meanwhile, Harry was shaking the hands of Marlene's older brothers before he finally turned to the girl, who stared up at him with large blue eyes, as she caressed her blonde curls to the side.

"Ms. McKinnon," Harry repeated the same greeting he did for her mother, only the kiss on her hand lingered perhaps a tad longer. Luckily the rest of the family did not notice it.

"Mr. Peverell..." Lord McKinnon spoke up once more. His calculating eyes came resting on Harry and the boy knew that the next words would be chosen wisely: "I find myself very impressed with your performance twice within a single week. You demonstrated that you know how to defend yourself, be it with words or a wand. A very rare capability in a fifteen-year-old if I may say so."

"I must admit, Lord McKinnon, that your admittedly immaculate argumentation during my trial made it even more difficult to prove my innocence," Harry replied with a small smile tugging the corner of his lips: "I had not planned on revealing my trump card so soon for the world to see, yet you forced my hand."

The man's eyes sparkled with amusement, something Harry counted as a victory. Marlene noticed so as well, her eyes beaming up with hope. What exactly was she hoping for?

"Admittedly, I do not feel bad for provoking you to go take that extra step." Marlene's father smirked: "It was certainly a very entertaining display of magic."

"I aim to please, my Lord." Harry inclined his head and shot a very small wink towards Marlene, who immediately blushed furiously and lowered her eyes.

"You caught my interest and my family's, and I would like to get to know you better, Mr. Peverell." Alfred McKinnon nodded sincerely: "How would you like to share dinner with us over the next few weeks? We shall easily get permission from your Head of House. This is family business after all."

"I fully agree, sir." Harry fought the bright grin that was threatening to spread over his face back down as he held out his hand: "I would be delighted to share dinner and get to know you better. After finding myself in a courtroom full of Lords, who wished nothing more than to toss me around, I find the prospect of making some political acquaintances rather refreshing..."

"I imagined so..." Lord McKinnon bobbed his head: "An owl shall be sent soon with a formal invitation."

Harry nodded his understanding. This had gone exceptionally well in his opinion. He forced himself to tear his eyes from Marlene and turned to leave when suddenly:

"Oh, Mr. Peverell. One more thing," Lord McKinnon addressed him firmly: "Since the young man my daughter is currently courting has, for mysterious circumstances, not shown up for this event, I would like to ask you to escort Marlene back up to lunch at the castle."

"It would be an honor to escort your daughter back to the castle, sir." Harry could hardly believe his luck. He bid the Potters farewell, ignored the teasing smirk on Dorea's face, and walked over to Marlene to offer her his arm. Marlene linked her arm around his perhaps in a tad more formal fashion, since they were still in the company of her parents. Then, she also said her goodbyes and allowed Harry to escort her back up to the castle.

"Harry, I..."

"Not here!" Harry hushed her as they joined the caravan of students walking up to the castle. Marlene quickly shut up, which was certainly the right thing to do, given the circumstances. They were surrounded by their peers and any word they spoke might be overheard.

"Congratulations on your victory, Mr. Peverell," Marlene expressed formally just when they overtook a few of her classmates from Ravenclaw. Harry knew that she simply demonstrated that their relationship was platonic, so he played along: "Thank you, Ms. McKinnon."

Harry led her past Hagrid's Hut and the edge of the forbidden Forest, over the courtyard and into the castle. Within the mass of students, they walked right next to the stone wall down the corridor to the Great Hall, where lunch would be served soon. No one noticed when Harry suddenly pulled Marlene to the right and they stepped through what must look like a large Portrait of a bard, right into a secret small alcove.

He silenced Marlene's yelp by pressing his hand over her lips and waited until her frightened eyes shrank to their usual size and looked up at him in wonder.

"Now we can talk." Harry lowered his hand, trying his best to ignore how soft her lips felt against it.

"I know we should talk..." Marlene murmured and fluttered at him under incredibly long lashes: "...But there is something I need to do first."

She pulled him down by the hem of his shirt and pressed her lips against his in a kiss that was much more heated than the first one they had shared. A hungry groan escaped Harry's throat and his hands automatically wandered to her waist. He pressed her even closer against him, so close that it would be impossible for her not to feel the way his body reacted to her.

Marlene did not seem to mind the slightest, as her soft fingers started roaming from the hem of his shirt, over his shoulder, and to the back of his head, where she entangled them with his hair. Harry felt her push all her emotions into the kiss. The anxiety from watching him. The relief when he defeated his opponent unharmed. The excitement at having their families make a connection, and her devotion at finally being close to him once more.

Their lips explored one another, as something that started with a kiss turned into a heated snog. She gasped into his mouth as Harry parted her lips with his tongue, exploring every inch of the inside of her mouth. A soft moan escaped her throat when one of his hands wandered from her waist to her butt and gave it a tentative squeeze.

Despite her inexperience, she slowly grew more confident and started replicating the movements Harry's tongue performed in her mouth. Harry allowed her to take control and experiment as much as she liked until the need for air became too much and they broke apart panting heavily.

"That was so incredible." Her breasts, still pressed against his chest, lifted and lowered themselves with her deep rhythmic breaths. Her cheeks were flushed a faint pink while her dilated eyes stared up at him. Harry would bet every galleon to his name, that he spotted desire and passion in those eyes, and he knew his own would convey the same emotions.

"I agree..." Harry gulped heavily and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead: "...But in the long run it might be healthier if we talk first."

"We can talk now, Harry." Marlene nodded with a giggle and reluctantly lowered her arms from Harry's neck.

His gaze involuntarily dropped to her assets that were perfectly on display at least from his angle: "You make it rather difficult for me to restrain myself when a certain part of your body is pressed against me."

"Fine..." Marlene pouted adorably, and pulled on her robes: "I was told boys like these two..." She cupped her own boobs while keeping eye contact with Harry and biting her lower lip: "But it's okay... I will make sure it does not happen again..."

"You are such a tease." Harry rolled his eyes: "But this is where we should actually talk, Marlene."

"I know..." Marlene's gaze dropped and the smile vanished: "I promise, I can explain, Harry. It's really not what it looked like."

"I was hoping you'd say that because I refused to believe that a girl, as smart as you, was actually stuck up on some bigoted nonsense about blood purity." Harry sighed deeply: "I have pondered over what happened yesterday for hours, but I still could not figure out why you acted the way that you did."

"I know it must have seemed disgusting, but I had to think about the bigger picture. Something we can work towards even better now..." Her eyes danced with hope.

"What do you mean by that?" Harry frowned.

"My family does not allow casual dating, Harry." Marlene explained with a frustrated sigh: "Unless you want to continue seeing me in secret, there has to be a courting agreement between our families for us to be together. And my father would only ever take you seriously as a potential courting partner if proper pureblood etiquette is followed any time we are seen together in public..."

Harry gulped heavily: "So what? I cannot hang out with my friends anymore because some of them are halfbloods or muggleborns?"

"No!" Marlene clutched his hands: "What I did was because my father would be more likely to consider the idea of us courting if I was not seen breaking etiquette even beforehand. Once we are officially courting, it won't matter that much anymore. It's just to persuade my father that the agreement is favorable for us and will elevate our position within society. A necessary sacrifice so to say..."

"So, you are not a blood extremist?" Harry inquired.

"I am not going to lie to you..." Marlene shrugged: "...I probably have been at some point when I first came to Hogwarts. You have to understand that I was raised in a pureblood household and the McKinnons have been high society for centuries in the wizarding world. I was told that I am superior by my parents, so I believed it. However, then I came to Hogwarts and you can hardly have classes with Evans for five years and still think muggleborns are worse at magic."

"True..." Harry smiled, thinking about his brilliant mother: "Lily is certainly a nightmare for any stuck up, bigoted pureblood extremist."

Marlene continued: "In fact, the only thing I dislike right now about muggleborns or halfbloods, is how some of them struggle to adapt to our society and demand for us to chaperone to them. Entering the wizarding world is like entering a new culture. We as Europeans don't just go to Asia and demand for them to make changes to their civilization just so we feel more comfortable. If one migrates into a new society, one has to adapt and I believe that rule applies to the wizarding world as well. I am not saying that some muggle ideas don't have their merit, but it's about delivering and incorporating them in a way that is not disrespectful. If you get what I mean..." She trailed off.

Harry stared at her in fascination. That was actually one of the few points he totally agreed with. It had irked him in fourth year already when Hermione started spewing her SPEW bullshit and getting on everyone's nerves: "I fully agree with you..."

"That is wonderful!" She beamed up at him: "Explaining all of this to you works so much better than any of the scenarios in my head and I am so happy that you actually hear me out and don't judge me outright."

Harry nodded his understanding. However, he still had questions: "Courting sounds so serious, but it is practically just dating officially, is it not?"

"Well, yes..." Marlene bobbed her head, making her long curls wobble up and down: "However, there are a few rules that will depend on the type of agreement. For example, you have to take me to any public appearance of yours. Be it a press conference, a ball, dinner party, and so on."

"Well, Ms. McKinnon, what's actually in it for me then?" Harry smirked at her: "So far I only heard about the obligations and nothing about the benefits I had been hoping for..."

At first, her blue eyes narrowed dangerously, but then a playful smile tucked on the corners of her lips: "Well, first of all, you will no longer have to see me on the arm of another boy. I know exactly how much that must have frustrated you..." She shot him a flirtatious and very suggestive look. Damn, were her eyelashes long...

"That's good for a beginning." His eyes danced with amusement: "I do hope you keep going though."

"But yes, of course, Mr. Peverell." Marlene took a step forward and led her finger trail up his chest, along his neck, and to his jawbone: "You will have the exclusive rights to this, right here..."

She stood on her toes and placed a lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth. Something possessive roared inside of Harry. This stunning girl would finally be his. Exclusiveness sounded very good...

"Anything else?" He whispered and placed his hands on her hips.

"Don't get too excited, mister..." Marlene giggled: "...You have not managed to convince my father yet."

"I have been invited to dinner." Harry grinned: "And I can be very persuasive if I want to be..."

They talked for another 10 minutes. A better description would be talking while exchanging small kisses every few sentences. Then, it was time for Marlene to head to lunch, while Harry sneaked to the Kitchens and up to the Room of Requirements after. He was very glad they found this opportunity to talk things out. Even better looking, was the prospect of dating Marlene McKinnon officially soon. For that, he only had to play the perfect pureblood for her family...

February 16th, 1976

PEVERELL PREVAILS IN DUEL OF HONOR

Was Killing the Malfoy Heir Within His Legal Right?

By Rita Skeeter

The Daily Prophet wishes to express its condolences for the Malfoy family's loss of their heir, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. The 21-year-old died during yesterday's Duel of Honor against his opponent Harry Ignotus Peverell. While it is a widely known fact that all spells are permitted for usage during a Duel of Honor, the question of the legality behind Mr. Peverell's actions should still be addressed.

Mr. Edgar Bones, an expert for magical law, has the following to say: "From a legal perspective, all spells, even lethal ones such as killing curse or Mr. Peverell's unknown scythe spells, are lawful to use during a Duel of Honor. The fact that Mr. Malfoy cast the Killing Curse at Mr. Peverell underlines the severity of the situation. Thus, it gives us valuable context, which we need to manage the issue. Mr. Peverell's choice of spells was reactionary, whereas Mr. Malfoy carried lethal intent throughout the entire duel. As a matter of fact, Peverell does not need to fear any legal repercussions for his actions and even holds the moral advantage in this situation.

Mr. Peverell's legal situation might be secured, but many spectators were still shocked by the 15-year-olds choice of spells and especially the style of dueling. We asked Senior Auror Alastor Moody for his opinion on the matter: "The boy has some serious skill, aye. Hogwarts definitely needs to sweeten its curriculum if that's what they teach their students in other European countries. He showed excellent approaches in dodging enemy spellfire and from what I have noticed, he even mastered a technique to deflect incoming curses. I have witnessed a lot during my years of service, but even I was out of my depth watching Peverell cast that last spell. It certainly had some darker tendencies to it. I don't care about any of the stuff his family might have been involved with at some point, but let me tell you that the lad's last piece of magic certainly won't be found in the Standard Book Of Spells."

True to our prediction, Peverell keeps stirring things in Magical Britain. We will keep our readers up to date, shall Britain's most eligible bachelor find himself in any more trouble.

The frequency of Harry Peverell batting aside an incoming Bone Breaker repeated itself again and again on the front page of the Daily Prophet as Albus exited his Pensieve. He had watched the memory a total of five times already and he was still out of his depth. He had never seen this kind of dueling style, be it his stance, or his wand work, before. If it had been recently invented on the continent, then it had not been introduced to magical Britain yet... How was that possible?

Albus pulled out his piece of parchment and wrote down his new findings to the existing lists of mysteries that all deal with Harry Peverell:

Appears out of nowhere

Orphan from Continent, 15 years old

Close resemblance to Potters, knows he is related to them

Uses Sign of Deathly Hallows

Holds Elder Wand (Does he know so?)

Befriends Marauders

Marlene McKinnon?

Holds back in classes

Observant and cautious (Why?)

Possesses Family Ring

Proven his identity (Family Magic)

Advanced Occlumency Shields

Parents murdered, rough Childhood

Return to Britain for Revenge?

Unknown Dueling Style

Spell Redirection Technique

Lethal Family (Dark?) Magic

His family magic was one of the most concerning points. Alastor was correct in his assessment that it was inherently dark. In addition, Albus' mind kept going back to the origins of the Peverell Clan and their strong association with Death. In most wizarding folklores, Death was depicted with a scythe to claim the souls of those that were sent to his kingdom. Was it a mere coincidence, or was Albus on the right track?

He needed additional help with this. There was only one person who knew as much about the Hallows and their original owners as Albus himself. His gaze swapped over the first two keynotes on his list. Perhaps it was time to visit the continent.

Riddle Manor

The Dark Lord departed his Pensieve with eyes narrowed to slits. This was extremely troublesome. The boy had already caused him more trouble than he would have ever expected. Had he underestimated him? Voldemort had to grudgingly admit that the boy was exceptionally skilled with his wand for someone his age. From what he has seen so far, a duel between the two back when the Dark Lord was fifteen years old would not have gone very favorable for the Dark Lord. He grimaced. That was unacceptable, he was the greatest wizard ever...

It had taken the Dark Lord all the way until shortly before he completed his NEWTs to reflect spells confidently enough to use said technique in a duel. The boy had mastered it before even completing his owls. Peverell was also in a physical condition that would allow him to dodge for long periods of time and simply outlast many opponents. In addition, Peverell had demonstrated that he was able to switch back between defense and offense within a split second. His spells already had the power, speed, and accuracy to deal serious damage. How was that possible?

"Last I was told, the younger Lestrange and a few more upper years were given orders to rough him up enough for Lucius to win the duel." Voldemort's eyes narrowed on the man that had delivered the memory for him: "What happened to that? Why did he look in peak physical condition, without a single scratch?"

"My Lord," Robert Selwyn gulped: "Lucius acted after receiving a missive from Lestrange, in which he was informed of their intention to attack the boy during a Hogsmeade weekend. However, their ambush failed..."

"What do you mean failed, Selwyn?" The Dark Lord whispered dangerously.

"All of them had to spend the last two nights in the Hospital Wing, my Lord. Lestrange was even transferred to Saint Mungo's, due to the seriousness of his injuries." Selwyn stuttered.

"How many students are we talking about?" Voldemort's eyes flashed crimson red.

"Almost a dozen, my Lord..."

"You are telling me that a fifteen-year-old child fought off over a dozen students from pureblood families, which have taught their sons the art of dueling before they even arrived at Hogwarts?" His voice was thick with disbelief.

"Yes, my Lord..." Selwyn nodded: "Judging by their injuries, they did not stand a chance..."

"See yourself out, Selwyn." The Dark Lord ordered and dismissed the man with a wave of his hand.

A fifteen-year-old boy had crossed more of his plans than the entire efforts from the Ministry and that old fool Dumbledore over the last few years combined. Only yesterday did Abraxas Malfoy storm into his study and tell the Dark Lord that he would no longer fund any of his undertakings. The man had the audacity to blame him for the Death of his son because Voldemort refused to dispatch his Death Eaters to attack a schoolboy.

Lord Malfoy was so consumed by revenge for the death of his son, that he no longer saw any reason to spend his galleons on the bigger picture. The inevitable victory, in the long run, was forgotten. Instead, he would use all his means to bring an end to the boy that had most likely finished the Malfoy line for good.

The Dark Lord had to stop himself from leashing out and butchering the Lord right then and there. However, killing a respectable member of pureblood society would only dampen his efforts to persuade the conservative fractions of the Wizengamot to join him.

Still, losing the funding of the Malfoy wealth was a heavy blow to his endeavors. In addition, recruitment at Hogwarts would slow down even further, since many of those, who had shown ambition to take up the mark, would be scared of a mere fifteen-year-old. Peverell had to be dealt with, the sooner the better.

The boy was not a threat for the Dark Lord himself, only for his plans and the speed at which they could be implemented. His magic was impressive, but no magic stood a chance against the gift within his veins. At the same time, he was interested in the boy, especially his family magic. For years, the Dark Lord had boasted that there was no magic on this earth that he did not know and wield.

Peverell's magic was certainly not light. The way he had disposed of Lucius only demonstrated that. It was dark in nature and would complement the Dark Lord's current repertoire nicely. Was there perhaps a way to persuade Peverell of a different path? The boy had power and would make for an excellent weapon to spread his influence within the youth of the British Wizarding World.

According to the reports he had built relationships with the Potters and Blacks. Could he be persuaded to use his powers and skill for the betterment of wizarding society instead of mingling with mudbloods and blood traitors? He was, after all, still young and impressionable. Peverell had not shown any remorse after killing Lucius, so taking a life did not frighten him. He was the ideal candidate to act as a leader for a future generation of Death Eaters.

Perhaps he should reach out to the boy and convince him of the error in his ways. Yes... The Dark Lord would find a way to handle him and convince him to join his cause. At the same time however, Lord Voldemort only asks once... never a second time...