HP: Fairborn Adventures

September 1st, 1976

"I've missed you so much!" A pair of lithe arms squeezed her while straight, light brown hair blocked her vision temporarily.

"It's good to see you too, Flo." Marlene reciprocated the hug, "How was it in the States?"

The brunette loosened her hold and pulled Marlene into the compartment. Her eyes lit up: "It was fantastic! Dad's cousin has this really nice beach house in Florida. I spent all my time swimming, tanning, and flirting with all the cute local muggle boys. They loved the British accent."

"Poor boys," Marlene murmured. A quick glance out of the window confirmed that the Express had left Kings Cross and was already on its way up to Scotland. 'Her second to last year had officially started.' Marlene flicked her wand and levitated her trunk up to the luggage storage: "But I can tell you got some sun. You look really good, Flo."

"Yes, yes- thanks..." The girl rolled her eyes and gestured for the seat next to her: "...But enough about me. How were the last few weeks of your summer? Did anything interesting happen with Harry?"

Marlene chuckled in amusement. 'Of course, that would be her first question' Florence had been heartbroken when they learned that they would not be able to communicate for the last four weeks of the holidays. The Atlantic was simply not a safe distance to cross for any owl and portkeying the letters was incredibly expensive.

She bit her bottom lip, thinking back about the time. "It was good. We saw each other pretty much every other day." Her lips curled upwards: 'And they had gotten to know each other very well...'

"What is that grin?" Florence pointed at her accusingly: "You guys did something, didn't you?" She gasped and her voice changed into a whisper: "Have you guys done it already? How was it?"

"Morgana, no!" Marlene's eyes darted over to the door to check if it was truly locked: "We didn't go that far yet. But we're close..." She added with a sly grin.

"Marlene Elizabeth McKinnon, you little harpy!" Her best friend gasped in mock surprise: "Who would have ever thought that out of the two of us, you'd be the first to take that step with a boy. What happened to my cute study buddy who cared about nothing else besides classes, books, and her future career?"

"I know right." Marlene shook her head with a low giggle: "It's not like things were very simple before, but so much has changed since Harry joined us last semester. I can hardly imagine what my life would be like without him right now."

A dreamy expression must have stuck on her face because Flo gave her a knowing smile: "You really like him, don't you?"

"I really do." Marlene swallowed the small lump in her throat and blushed ever so slightly: "And he told me that he loved me two weeks ago..."

"Do you think it was sincere or just to get into your knickers? You know how boys can be." Florence raised an eyebrow.

"We are talking about my Harry, not Sirius Black, Florence." Marlene snorted: "He doesn't need to do that kind of stuff to get into my knickers..." She shot her best friend a small grin: "I'm usually the one who keeps pushing. I am just nervous because he has more experience than me."

"Before the summer you said it was a good thing that he knows what he is doing, remember?" Florence teased her: "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"I know..." Marlene sighed in frustration: "I don't even want to think about it, because it's stupid, but I just keep thinking that he will compare me to those girls."

"Well, I doubt any of them would do well in such a comparison." Her friend snorted audibly: "You are bloody gorgeous and absolutely brilliant, Mar, and I've seen the way Harry looks at you. That boy is completely smitten. Stop worrying so much."

"Perhaps you're right."

"Of course I am," Florence rolled her eyes: "Now tell me, did you say it back?"

"No, I haven't yet." Marlene bit her bottom lip again: "I wanted to, but I just did not feel quite ready yet."

"I am sure he will be understanding." Florence squeezed her hand affectionately: "You guys are already moving pretty fast for being only sixteen. It's almost scary."

"Talking about scary, have you taken a look at the book our new Defense against the Dark Arts professor will be using in class?" Marlene changed the subject: "It's more graphic than pretty much anything you will find in the Restricted Section. Flourish and Blotts doesn't even sell it to anyone who has not sat their OWLs yet."

The two girls continued chatting about the new classes and expectations for their first NEWT year. They were soon joined by a few other girls from different Houses. It was roughly an hour later that Marlene decided to visit her boyfriend briefly before going to the Prefects' Compartment.

"I'll go see what Harry is up to." She whispered to Florence, who was deep in a conversation with a girl from Hufflepuff about the benefits of muggle mascara. She shook her head in amusement and slipped out into the aisle. He was probably planning some absurd back-to-school prank with the Marauders. Their compartment was all the way in the back of the Express.

Marlene was halfway there when a small group of upper-year Slytherin boys exited their compartment and blocked the entire aisle. They showed no effort to make room for her and simply remained in front of their compartment, shooting ugly sneers at her.

"Do you mind not blocking the aisle?" Marlene forced herself to remain as polite as possible: "I would like to pass."

They slowly turned towards her, not even hiding the way they blatantly checked her out. She knew that if Harry was with her none of them would dare to disrespect her like that. The thought was extremely irksome, yet taking a deep breath, she squeezed herself through the small gap they made.

"Blood traitor whore." Someone whispered just when she passed the group: "Probably on her way to spread her legs."

'How dare they?!' Heat bubbled up inside of her. Her fingers tightened around her wand as she snatched it from her waist and turned around: "Want to repeat that to my face?" She hissed at the group of boys. Each of them had a wide disgusting sneer on their face as they chuckled at successfully provoking her.

"I don't need to call my boyfriend to teach you some manners." Marlene flared her nostrils: "If I catch you calling me names behind my back again, I will curse you."

"Are you going to curse all five of us?" Thomas Avery stepped forward, the sneer replaced by a cold emotionless mask: "You should be more careful, McKinnon. Hogwarts is famous for its dark, secluded corner and corridors."

"Are you threatening me, Avery?" Her knuckles whitened around her wand. Various spells danced on the tip of her tongue, one nastier than the other.

"No..." A cold, cruel smile tucked on the corner of the seventh year's lips: "I am merely reminding you that your boyfriend will not always be there. Let's find the trolley..." He turned and addressed the other members of the group: "... I am sure McKinnon will not be resentful for our small misunderstanding..."

Great Hall

Twinkling blue eyes roamed over what lay ahead of them. The Great Hall was lit by thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where soon, the students will be sitting. A smile spread over Albus' face as he heard faint chatter and laughter from the court; the first carriages with students must have arrived.

Indeed, soon enough, groups of uniformed students, accented with the colors red, green, blue, and yellow flooded through the giant pair of doors into the Great Hall and towards their House tables. The air was filled with laughter, tales of summer adventures, aspirations, and goals for the new term. Just as any school should have it.

The pleasant atmosphere was the result of a rather peaceful holiday for the children of magical Britain. Any sort of strange activities, which Albus would have suspected Tom to be the source of, had paused over the summer, with the exception of a rather dangerous prank on the Lestranges.

The situation was as surprising as it was disturbing. At this point in time, Albus would have expected Tom's influence over the more conservative cycles to allow for more than simply lingering in the shadows. What was the Dark Lord planning? Why was Tom so hesitant to finally make a move?

The strong disparity between unruly ebony next to a crown of honey and gold caught Albus' eye as the two students entered the Great Hall. The twinkle in his eyes grew stronger when Hogwarts' most gossiped couple entered together, confirming the perseverance of their relationship over the summer. Not that Albus would have expected them to have any sort of fallout.

Harry Peverell and Marlene McKinnon, both tall for their age, effortlessly stood out from underneath the mass of students that entered the Great Hall. A small smile tucked on the corner of Albus' lips as he caught their attached hands and the brief glances they sent each other.

He watched curiously as Peverell mentioned something to his legendary group of friends, the Marauders, before escorting Ms. McKinnon and her friend Ms. Fawley over to the Ravenclaw table. There, he merely lingered for another minute before the couple separated with a quick kiss, and the Gryffindor went to the other side of the hall to join his housemates.

Albus had stayed true to his promise to Gellert and refrained from meddling with the young man's affairs. He was still suspicious of him and certain that Peverell was hiding something from everyone. Well perhaps not everyone...

His eyes lingered on the golden hair of Marlene McKinnon. What were the chances that Peverell had confined her into his goals and plans? It would be the easiest to invite the girl into his office for a cup of tea and congratulate her on her spectacular performance in her OWLs. Ms. McKinnon might not reveal anything about her boyfriend on her own, but a brief scan of her surface thoughts would at least indicate whether she was lying to Albus or not.

The headmaster quickly scratched that thought. It was not unlikely that a family as old as the McKinnons taught their children elemental techniques to at least spot those intrusions. Besides, Mr. Peverell did not seem to be the kind of individual to share his secrets without ensuring that they will be kept. But how else could Albus learn more about the boy?

He was, without doubt, the most powerful and dangerous student this castle had hosted since Tom Riddle. From what Albus had witnessed during the boy's practical OWLs, he could be taking his NEWTs in most subjects and still score Outstandings along the line.

His thoughts drifted back to the threat of the rising Dark Lord. During their talk a few months ago, Peverell had neither confirmed nor denied that part of the reason why he came back was the murder of his parents. In charms class, Filius had overheard that they had been killed by a Dark Wizards. Yet, Albus had done his research over the summer and no rising of Dark Wizards had been reported on the continent during the time this incident must have taken place. Had Peverell lied? Or was there more to it?

Soon, the doors closed and the noise died down to faint, exciting whispers. With a snap of his fingers, the four long tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. Roughly another minute passed until the giant doors opened once more and Professor McGonagall led the first years up to the head table, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

Albus sent any first year who glimpsed his way a calming smile, knowing how nervous each and every one of them must be. Many of them looked like they wished for nothing more than to vanish from sight. He could hardly fault them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver.

The Sorting Hat began its song and initiated the ceremony, which went as smoothly as one could hope. Another batch of first years had officially started their magical journey.

'It was time.' Albus got to his feet. He never managed to stop himself from beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! I will not be stopping you any further from enjoying this immaculate banquet. Tuck in!"

Albus sat back down while everybody clapped and cheered briefly before loading their plates with the mouth-watering dishes.

"A rather interesting batch of firsties this year, don't you agree?" Edward Bletchley commented next to Minerva.

"Whatever do you mean, Professor Bletchley?" The Scottish woman placed her fork back down and slowly turned towards him.

"Out of the roughly 70 students that have been sorted, I perhaps recognized two dozen surnames." The man commented seemingly absently, yet the grip on his knife tightened as he cut through his steak and pie: "And I consider myself very well connected in the wizarding world."

"Now now, Edward..." Horace chuckled good-natured from his side of the table: "You will be as surprised as me by the raw magical talent many halfbloods and muggle-borns demonstrate during their time here. I am certain you will soon meet a certain sixth-year student from Gryffindor. Many consider her the brightest witch of her age and she comes from muggle parentage, as incredible as it sounds."

The tiniest snort escaped Edward's lips, which he managed to cover by clearing his throat. His expression changed to a brief sneer, yet only Minerva and Albus caught her. He exchanged a quick glance with his deputy and sighed.

It had been a real struggle to find anyone willing to take over the position as Defense against the Dark Arts professor this year. No matter what Albus tried, Lucretia Munrose insisted on enjoying her well-deserved retirement instead of returning for another year. The only candidate who had displayed the necessary qualifications and showed an interest in the position had been Edward Bletchley.

Edward had been a student at Hogwarts shortly before Dumbledore had been made Headmaster himself. The Slytherin Alumni had been a Prefect and scored among the best in his year. He later took over his father's wizarding law firm and started a family with a former housemate. Yet, something had irked Albus about the man during their interview.

His bigotry was more subtle and usually worded in ways that most people would struggle even picking it up. However, Bletchley's comment about the first years was significantly more confrontational, leaving little room for interpretation. Albus simply hoped the man would remain professional and not let his personal or political opinion influence the way he treated his students.

"Despite Minerva's lion being my favorite student in charms, I will remind you all that Lily Evans shares the number one spot with Ms. McKinnon from my House." Filius squeaked with unmistakable pride in his high voice: "Both girls managed to score nothing but Outstandings in all their exams."

"The McKinnon's..." Edward nodded: "A good family, old as they come. Though I have been told by a former client that Alfred McKinnon signed a courting agreement for his daughter with the Peverell boy." Albus and Minerva exchanged another worried glance, both not missing the way Edward's eyes narrowed briefly.

Albus shook his head. Provoking Harry Peverell would certainly not end well for Bletchley. He glimpsed up and caught the young man laughing with his friends at Gryffindor's table. He somehow seemed to sense that someone was looking at him and his emerald green eyes snapped up to Albus at the table. Peverell inclined his head ever so slightly upon catching Albus' gaze and turned his attention back to his plate.

"Oh ho, Harry Peverell is another very astute student in that year. His understanding of magic is unlike anyone I have taught before." A shadow hovered behind Horace's eyes, yet vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"The two make a very good match, not just politically, if I may say so myself!" Filius added.

Horace beamed and nodded his agreement from his end of the table: "They are without doubt two of the brightest students I ever had the pleasure of teaching. I hope they continue escorting each other to my little get-togethers. It's always amusing to have them around."

Minerva cleared her throat: "Perhaps a topic besides the personal romantic relationships between our students is more appropriate."

"Right you are, Minerva." Albus chimed in, happy about the opportunity to switch the topic: "I have prepared a draft on how to increase the security of the students during this year's Hogsmeade weekends. In addition, I would like your opinion on increasing the number of extracurricular events. It has been decades since the castle saw a yule ball..."

Later that night

"Stairs!"

Cold stone shifted until the slimy pipe vanished and a long set of stairs materialized. The Elder Wand slipped into Harry's palm and he silently conjured a source of light that would travel down with him into the cold darkness.

Small bones crunched underneath his steady step as he reached the main chamber. Everything looked just as he had left it. The few parts of Basilisk hide he had not sold to the Flamels were neatly stored in one corner of the chamber. Next to it lay the massive skeleton of the Basilisk. Dozens of barrels stored the flesh and muscle tissue of the King of Serpents, which many magical cultures considered a delicacy. The preservation charms on the barrels were hardly needed. Decades would pass before the meat of a Basilisk went bad.

Harry walked over to the giant statue of the Founder and opened it with a parseltongue command. Salazar's small study also looked just as he had left it. Soon, the two new books he took from the Slytherin vault at Gringotts had been placed onto the dusty shelf next to the other ancient tomes he had found in the chamber down here.

So far, Harry had only managed to skim through them briefly but from what he had seen, both books dealt with ancient Parselmagic, more specifically, healing magic. After all, there was a reason why the snake was the totem for healing and medicine in both the magical and the muggle world.

It was a blessing that Tom Riddle never found these two books, though Harry had the distinct feeling that the man must have come across the knowledge within them somewhere else. The few rituals described in the books would allow their caster to heal unnaturally quickly after physical injury or exhaustion. It spiked Harry's curiosity, for it was a clear advantage in any confrontation.

After organizing the books, he grabbed his leathery bag from the floor and walked back into the main chamber. The Elder Wand drew a short pattern in the air in front of him as Harry silently conjured a simple wooden table.

"I take it we're in this Chamber of Secrets you spoke so fondly of." Aurelius' voice echoed out of ancient tome the moment Harry opened it.

"While I prefer the Room of Requirements, this one seemed less likely to take any damage. Besides, if something does go wrong, we are miles underneath the ground and not close to hundreds of children." Harry mused.

"Practicing magic on your own is a double-edged sword, especially concerning the nature of the spells you want to practice, Harry." The black burst twisted: "If something went wrong, no one would find you down here."

"Then I will just have to be extra careful." Harry grit his teeth: "inviting anyone down here means exposing myself as a Parselmouth. I am not ready to give up that advantage yet."

"A cunning move..." The shadow nodded: "You should be fine as long as you follow my instructions. There is something else we can do to further increase your control over spells and magic in general. It might help you tame something as dangerous as Fiendfyre and our family's derivate."

"What is that?" Harry peered up curiously. Any advantage was welcomed with open arms. 'Anything that made him closer to Voldemort's equal.'

"A small ritual, which, if done correctly, strengthens your bond to the Hallows, including the Elder Wand," Aurelius stated.

"Blood?"

The shadow nodded: "It used to be a common technique for wandcrafters to use the blood of the wielder as a medium. However, personalizing your wand to such a degree can give the tool a rather independent, temperamental, almost selfish character..."

"Well, soul, blood, and any other sacrificial magic are looked down upon or even strongly forbidden nowadays." Harry expressed: "However, I used to have a friend, who was a quarter Veela. Her wand had her grandmother's hair as its core."

"Another way to personalize and fine-tune it. Though in your case I can assure you that blood will be the better option." Aurelius chuckled ever so slightly.

"Yeah, I don't see myself asking Charlus for some hair." Harry shook his head: "So what do I have to do?"

"An ordinary seven cornered star and some basic rune work will be sufficient as a foundation." The tome explained. The burst vanished into lines of ink that formed a star and the necessary runes: "After carving them, you separately take each Hallow and let a few drops of blood flow onto the item."

"How exactly will it strengthen my connection with the wand?" Harry asked curiously and skimmed through his bag for a knife to carve the runes with.

"It increases your sensibility for each other. The wand will have an easier time comprehending your intent, even without you saying an incantation or performing a direct spell. The ritual is unlikely to increase your raw power, however, casting a powerful piece of magic might be easier, since the flow of energy is conserved better than before."

"Any drawbacks that I should know of?" Harry inquired while finishing the first corner of the runic star.

"Not really." The burst twisted: "Although I should mention that fusing the wand with your own blood will make it an unpleasant experience for anyone else to hold it unless it was won from you. Be careful when lending your wand to a friend of yours, or that blonde girl you keep talking about."

"You were the one that was interested in my personal life and the continuation of your legacy." Harry snorted: "Don't blame me for telling you stuff." He concentrated on the next corner before asking another question: "What about feeling the wand's presence? I remember casting a Lumos spell in my fifth year without my wand being in hand. Still, its tip lit up. Will I experience any benefits like that?"

"It is a possibility." Aurelius hummed: "I could very well imagine that it will be easier for you to feel your wand's presence when it's in the same room or to summon it. By sacrificing your blood for the wand, it becomes almost a part of you..."

"And the other Hallows?" Harry peered up briefly. The rune work was almost done: "How does adding my blood change my relationship to them?"

"It will make using the Ring easier, especially calling your blood relatives from the other side of the realm." Aurelius explained patiently: "However, in your case, it does not change much. Remember that you can only call the imprints of souls. For that to be possible, you must have encountered said person while they were still alive. I don't think either of us could think of anyone you might want to call at this point."

"True," Harry nodded. He glanced over the runic scheme and checked each of the carvings one last time: "What about the Cloak?"

The burst twisted into a cloud of black ink as it always did when Aurelius supported his stories with pictures: "When my great-grandfather received the cloak from Death, it was calibrated to him specifically and therefore worked best for him alone. A few drops of your blood allow the Cloak to recognize you as its new rightful owner."

"But it already worked perfectly before for me and I never added blood to it." Harry frowned.

"Did it really work perfectly?" The lines of ink shifted back into a burst: "Don't misunderstand me, the cloak will still work better than any other concealment tool you might find. However, it's not perfect unless you add your blood to it. The soul-revealing charm, advanced anti concealment spells, and even a summoning charm can cancel its effects."

"You are wrong with the last one." Harry shook his head as he got back up from the cold stone tiles: "I can confirm the first two cases. Back in my first year, Dumbledore knew where I was, probably by casting a Homonum Revelio. In my fourth year, my DADA professor's magical eye spotted me underneath my cloak. However, the Cloak can't be summoned. Some Death Eaters tried shortly before the battle of Hogwarts."

"That is impossible unless the cloak has come in contact with your blood, Harry." Aurelius argued: "I have studied it for half a century. Only its owner's blood unleashes the Cloak's full powers."

Harry frowned and searched his mind: "Malfoy..."

"The blond ponce you killed?"

"No... His son." Harry's eyes narrowed at the memory: "At the beginning of my sixth year at Hogwarts, he ambushed me and stomped on my nose. Then he covered me with my own cloak, hoping no one would find me. That's how it must have come into contact with my blood. It's the only explanation I can think of."

"It makes sense." Aurelius' burst nodded: "However, I still recommend adding a few drops of your blood. You are Harry Ignotus Peverell now, not Harry James Potter. Biologically speaking your blood remains unchanged. Nonetheless, the magic within it will have altered."

"Let's start in the right order." Harry nodded his understanding: "Will I have to be naked for this one?"

"No, just make sure to have no magical items besides the Hallow on you when you enter the star," Aurelius clarified.

Harry pulled the Peverell Ring off his finger and placed it on the desk next to the tome. He checked once more whether there was anything magical on himself before stepping onto the seven-pointed star. Then, he took a deep breath and trailed the Elder Wand's tip over his open palm. Crimson dripped out of the deep gash.

The thin piece of wood changed hands and was pressed against the wound until its rough wooden surface and each of the bumps were covered in Harry's blood. Faint whispers echoed all around him and Harry staggered slightly. He watched in fascination as the pale wood absorbed the crimson liquid, soaking the drops deep into its core.

When the feeling of dizziness subsided, Harry placed the wand back in his right hand and healed the open gash with a small flick. He twirled the wand between his hands and trailed his fingers over the many bumps, which decreased in size the further he traveled to the tip: "It's done..."

"Good." Echoed the response from the tome: "Make sure to continue with the other two Hallows. Leave the wand here and use a silver knife for the cuts. A few drops of blood should be enough this time. This is not one of those occasions where the more you sacrifice the stronger the result. It's simply about recalibrating the Hallows to you."

"Was it that obvious?" Harry snorted as he placed the wand back on the table and took the Ring and his knife instead.

"I heard you panting all the way over here, boy." Aurelius chuckled.

Two minutes later the other two Hallows were successfully infused with Harry's blood. He walked over to the tome and placed the ring back on his finger: "Am I ready to try some of that magic now?"

"No." The burst shook his head: "It would be foolish to try a new spell with what could be called a new wand after performing a ritual. However, we can use this opportunity for you to get accustomed to the wand and power yourself out."

"What exactly are you thinking?"

"The fire spell, Incendio." Black ink twisted into flame: "We can simulate Fiendfyre by having you cast your most destructive fire spell for as long as possible. Don't hold back and focus on the emotions we talked about. The sensation has to be all consuming."

A glimmer of sparks erupted from the tip of the Elder Wand as he twirled it around his finger. He turned to face the far end of the Chamber and took a few deep breaths, filling his lungs with oxygen.

"It's been a while since I powered myself out." His eyes flashed emerald green: "Let's unleash hell..."