HP: Fairborn Adventures

April 21st, 1977

The room Harry entered was the very same as roughly a year ago when they first sat together to decide on the courtship agreement between Marlene and him. Alfred McKinnon looked up upon their entry and stood from the far end of the table to greet them:

"Good morning, daughter, how did your apparition test go?"

"I passed with flying colors, father," Marlene replied with a touch of pride in her voice while she kissed his cheek.

"Of course you did, I expected nothing less of you." The man gave a short nod before looking over her shoulder toward Harry: "Good morning, Harry, If I remember correctly, you will still have to wait for your own assessment?"

"Indeed, it seems I will have to be a bit more patient." Harry shook the man's hand. His eyes briefly flicked to Marlene, who smirked at him before turning to Lord Black, the last party in the room.

"Well, let's get started already." Arcturus wasted no time and quickly shook Harry's hand before gesturing for the two teens to take a seat: "Peverell and I still have some family business to attend to afterward..."

'There was something else...'

'Almost forgot it.'

Harry grimaced and took a seat next to Lord Black, opposite Marlene, who seemed a tad nervous, despite the passive mask she forced upon her face.

"It has been over a year since our Houses signed the courtship agreement between you and my daughter, Harry." Lord McKinnon began, shuffling through some papers until he placed the original contract in front of him on the table: "As per our agreement, we are to meet again, refine the terms and adjust the contract into an official betrothal."

'Betrothal?'

Harry pondered over the word for a few seconds. On one hand, there was something satisfying about knowing that Marlene shall be one step closer to being completely his. Seeing his ring on her finger every day and knowing it was there to stay pleased some of these rather primal and possessive urges he felt spike from deep within him any time he was with her.

However, while he himself might not be as young, at least mentally, it did feel wrong to force a betrothal on a seventeen old girl, even if said girl was inclined to accept it.

Harry felt Marlene trying to capture his gaze but avoided her for now. Next to him, Arcturus cleared his throat: "What period did you have in mind for the betrothal?"

"I decided to be generous and grant them a little over a year." McKinnon replied, glancing over his notes: "To be more precise, starting from today until my daughter's and Harry's graduation in June next year, shortly after which they shall be wed."

'Marriage?'

'Before I even turned eighteen?'

He finally caught Marlene's eye, who still studied him curiously but nodded along with her father's proposal. Apparently, she found the terms agreeable.

"May I ask why simply extending the courting period is not even up to debate right now?" Harry carefully inquired, swallowing heavily when he noticed his girlfriend's face fall in disappointment, out of the corner of his eye: "I mean, I would not even be 18 years old by the time you suggest we be wed. I think I speak for both of us when I say that we are perfectly content with the current terms. Why is there a need to rush us into this?"

"Harry?" Marlene's eyes turned colder as they narrowed on him while Lord Black frowned and sighed beside him. By the flicker of irritation that crossed McKinnon's face, Harry knew he must have disrespected the man somehow...

'This wasn't good.'

"Mr. Peverell- ," Harry did not miss how Marlene's father switched back to his surname: " -the courting period of over a year I granted you, is in fact something most young witches and wizards from families such as ours don't even have the luxury to experience. This is by no means me trying to rush things, but simply us following wizarding costumes. Customs you should be much more familiar with as a pureblood! We aren't muggles or mudbloods who let their children date for pleasure and entertainment"

'Why did he have to say it...'

"There is only one problem with that- ." Harry clenched his jaw; knuckles flexed underneath the tables, fingernails digging into his skin. He caught Marlene shaking her head ever so slightly with a pleading look, trying to stop him from what she knew he was about to share.

'Fuck this!'

"I'm not a pureblood, sir."

Complete and utter silence settled in the small room, almost as if everyone was holding their breath. All eyes were on McKinnon, watching his reaction.

"What did you say?" A vein started pulsing threateningly on McKinnon's forehead, showing a frightening resemblance to Uncle Vernon. Next to him, Marlene started looking very concerned, eyes darting between her boyfriend and father, waiting for the inevitable.

"I said, I'm not a pureblood, Lord McKinnon. My mother was a muggle-born so I'm not as familiar with your costumes as one might assume."

"I see..." The man's head inclined ever so slightly to his daughter, yet his eyes never left Harry: "Did you know about this?"

"Not- Not until shortly after the summer, father." Marlene gulped: "But- "

"And you kept this from me for so many months?"

"Father, I-"

McKinnon smashed his fist on the wooden plate and roared: "YOU LIED TO YOUR OWN FAMILY AND HID THIS SECRET FOR MONTHS!"

Seeing Marlene jerk backward frightened, Harry jumped up from his chair, the Elder Wand slid into his palm.

"Sit back down, you fool!" Lord Black hissed beside him and tugged on his robes, forcing him back into his seat.

"You're right, we should all remain composed." Harry took a deep breath himself as he felt the anger spike through his veins. "But I cannot allow you to frighten Marlene, sir."

"You think you're in a position to allow me anything, boy?" The man spat, blue eyes narrowed in rage: "You came into my home, broke my bread, shared my wine, sweet-talked me into permitting my daughter to court you while being nothing more than a filthy little half-blood..."

Again, Lord Black placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, stopping him from doing anything drastic, though it took all of Harry's self-control not to leash out.

"And you!" McKinnon pointed at his daughter accusingly: "I thought I raised you better than this! I would've expected you to immediately distance yourself from this fraud the moment you learned about this! How dare you continue laying with him and degrading yourself with his sort. Do you have any idea what impossible position you put your family into?!"

"Father, please..." Marlene said through clenched teeth, showing first signs of defiance and irritation herself.

"You ruined yourself by letting this continue!" McKinnon roared: "No self-respecting pureblood family will even consider you as a prospect for their sons, now that you allowed this filth to take your virtue! Do you deny that?!"

'Enough!'

The way McKinnon talked about his own daughter, basically calling her worthless, damaged goods was too much to bear for Harry. Marlene was now close to tears, caused by a mixture of hurt and anger as she clenched her hands, nails digging deep into the wood of the table. She leaned back in her chair as far away from her father as possible.

" -Tarnishing yourself by sleeping with a half-blood and- "

"ENOUGH!" Something finally snapped inside of Harry and his magic reacted instinctively.

McKinnon paused his rant, gasping for air. His eyes turned away from his daughter and found Harry, widening impossibly as he started choking with both hands clenched around his throat.

"Filth is what you call me?" Harry's voice traveled in the faintest whisper; the air around him flared with his magic, causing even Arcturus and Marlene to struggle to breathe freely.

Blood started trickling from McKinnon's nose; the first vein popped in his right eye, occluding the ice blue with faint crimson lines.

"Harry- please!" Hearing Marlene beg for him to halt his aggression finally shook him out of his enraged state. "Please stop, love!"

He released his hold on the man. McKinnon's slummed on the wooden desk, gasping for his breath, yet Harry wasn't done with him just yet.

'He had gone too far this time.'

"Filth is what you call me?" Harry repeated once more, chuckling coldly while standing up and walking over to McKinnon: "When will you pathetic purebloods finally learn? Was it filth who tossed Lucius Malfoy, one of your most esteemed pureblood heirs, into the mud during their duel? Was it filth who defeated Antonin Dolohov, wielding pieces of magic your inbred minds couldn't hope to understand?"

Harry let the question linger in the room as he continued walking. By now he stood on the other side of the table and bent over it until his head was almost on the same level as McKinnon, who was still gasping for breath.

"Was it filth who warded your entire Manor four weeks ago and ensured that your family will be protected during the coming war?" Harry asked again, ignoring the concerned looks from Marlene and Lord Black: "No, that wasn't filth... that was me... the half-blood!"

Marlene looked like she wanted to speak up and interfere, yet Arcturus had crossed the room as well and guided her out of her chair back to his side.

"And do you know why I was able to accomplish all those feats?" Harry chuckled coldly: "Because your measly pride didn't allow you purebloods to leave your tiny bubble of an echo chamber and see the change outside of it. Or perhaps you did see the change and simply refused to acknowledge it?"

"It hardly matters..." Harry shook his head: "Either way, you should remember the following:

"Blood doesn't grant you power over others. Only magic gives you power. For how else could one explain that the greatest wizards of our century are all half-bloods, including Albus Dumbledore, Gellert Grindelwald, and Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

'Magic Is Might...'

'Something Voldemort was right about...'

"I have been very patient with you, Lord McKinnon, and swallowed all those little jabs you threw against half-bloods and muggle-born anytime we met, despite me asking you not to do so..." Harry stood back straight and glared down at the coughing form of the man: "But the limit was reached just now. Let this be a warning..."

He walked back to Arcturus' side, who had watched the entire interaction like a hawk, now shooting Harry a brief nod. Meanwhile, Marlene snatched one of the empty cups from the middle of the table and filled it with a clear stream of water to hand it to her father.

The man accepted it and gulped it down, spilling half its contents over his robes. He flinched away from his daughter when she tried to wipe the blood from underneath his nose and lips.

Ignoring the hurtful expression on Marlene's face, McKinnon turned to Harry: "You- you will never come near my daughter again, Peverell!"

'He wants to take her away from me.' Heat bubbled inside of Harry.

'I won't let him...'

"Marlene!" McKinnon stood up on shaky legs, steadying himself with his arms on the table: "We're leaving, now!"

'She said she will always choose me.' Fear crept like ice around his heart.

'But did she actually mean it?'

Harry glanced over at his girlfriend nervously. The shock was visible on her face, wide blue eyes flickered from Harry to her father while she shook her head ever so slightly: "Please, father! Please stay here! I'm sure we can talk about this!"

"I said: We're leaving, Marlene!" The man growled threateningly: "NOW!"

"Don't make me choose, father!" Marlene shook her head frantically; tears no longer threatened to spill from her eyes. In their stead, an unyielding determination set on her face: "Please, don't make me choose!"

"Are you going to choose some half-blood you've hardly known for more than a year over your own family?!" McKinnon flared his nostrils: "My daughter is not so foolish as to trade security, her way of life, and everything else she grew up with for some passing fling of teenage romance!"

"I love Harry with all my heart, father." Marlene stomped on her heel angrily, she darted back over to him, her hands clenching around his fingers desperately.

'Then choose me!'

Harry took her in his arms to steady her. He could feel her trembling ever so slightly. Her breaths came ragged while stroking her back: "If you make me choose, father, then I can only go with him..."

"Even though he refuses to make the necessary commitment and enter a betrothal with you?" McKinnon sneered: "You've heard him earlier, daughter! We've all heard him!"

'NO!'

Harry shook his head frantically.

''It's not like that!'

"Harry?" Marlene's eyes met his, scanning for any signs that what her father claimed might be true.

He held her gaze and allowed her to stare straight into his very soul until the tiniest smile tugged on her lips: "I didn't doubt Harry's feelings for me for a single second. If he prefers to wait a bit longer then I shall show some patience as well. What need do I have for titles when I already hold his heart?"

"I love you!" He whispered, deeply relieved. Harry pulled her against himself, releasing a long breath he barely noticed he held: "I love you so much."

'She chose me.'

'Just as she promised.'

"I see..." McKinnon seemed gobsmacked for a few seconds before his expression turned to one of hurt and utter disappointment. He swallowed heavily, showing a rare streak of emotion from the usually very guarded man. Finally, he turned for the door: "Then I doubt there's anything more to say in the matter..."

"Oh, there's lots to say and you shall listen to it! Sit down, Lord McKinnon, and swallow your damn pride for once!" Arcturus finally spoke up after having distanced himself during the entire confrontation so far: "Take some advice from someone who already lost a daughter of his House because he was unable to see past his bigoted and bloody well outdated beliefs!"

'Now that's unexpected...'

Looking over Marlene's golden head, Harry raised a curious eyebrow at the older wizard, not having expected him to actually regret banishing Andromeda Tonks.

"Peverell acted out of line today, but he spoke the truth!" Lord Black slammed his fist down on the table, making Marlene flinch back momentarily: "How can we sit here and pretend to be something better than muggleborns and half-bloods when Peverell would wipe the floor with any of our heirs while the boy hasn't even reached his maturity yet."

McKinnon muttered something incomprehensive under his breath but didn't dare interrupt Arcturus yet.

"I held great respect for you due to the sharp mind you demonstrated in our Wizengamot sessions. So I urge you to control your emotions and see things for the way they are!" Lord Black continued: "Peverell being a half-blood doesn't change anything about his impressive feats and what he did for your family. We both saw the memory of the night that Bones' Manor was attacked. If it wasn't for his interference, you'd have no heir left to carry your name at all right now! Your family owes him a life debt and the least you can do to honor it, is put aside the beliefs you were raised with and treat him with respect, not for what he was born as but for the man he grew to be!"

Lord McKinnon was silent for a minute, wiping the faint trickle of crimson from his nose with his sleeve. Bloodshot eyes darted over each occupant of the room while he thought profusely: "What about my- my daughter... She lay with a half-blood outside of marriage..."

"I won't lie and say I find it appropriate either, but Mother Magic still judged that they were ready for it! Otherwise, the clauses in our contract would have prevented them from taking that step!" Arcturus retorted, pointing at the documents on the table: "Your daughter will continue to be physical with Peverell, no matter whether you banish her now or not! Are you really willing to lose another child so shortly after your son was taken from you? Is your damn pride worth that price?"

Silence lingered in the room for a few seconds.

"So what now?" McKinnon huffed: "Am I supposed to just ignore that he defiled my only daughter and even attacked me?!"

"It's either that or risk losing your daughter forever." Lord Black turned to Marlene and studied the girl, who had refused to leave Harry's side for the last few minutes: "I recognize that look in her eye. I've seen it myself not too long ago and know what it means. She will not choose you, Lord McKinnon. And your daughter does not seem the type of young Lady to run back after making a decision."

"And as for me attacking you- " Harry chimed in before Arcturus continued: "- perhaps I should not have reacted that brashly, but at the same time I refuse to apologize for it. You continuously disrespected muggle-borns, including my own mother, my family, a young woman whose memory I won't let anyone tarnish, not even the father of the girl that I love!"

McKinnon swallowed heavily: "Then what is it you want now, Peverell?"

"I will continue seeing your daughter, sir, no matter whether you set up a contract for us or not. I will continue to treat her with the utmost respect and treasure her every single day." Harry stated with determination while pulling the girl in his arms even closer: "You can either continue to play a part in your daughter's life or not. The choice is yours."

"I won't beg you, father," Marlene whispered: "But I urge you to consider carefully..."

McKinnon regarded his daughter with a heartbreaking expression for a few incredibly long moments, seemingly endless. Then he sighed heavily: "I don't want to lose my little girl so shortly after losing Marcus." He cleared his throat: "But I will need some time to come to terms with all of this. Your mother must also be informed of this development..."

Harry felt Marlene twitch in his arms, her fingers curled deeper into his robes. From what he knew about Elizabeth Charlotte McKinnon, née Stolzenberg, the woman came from an old German pureblood family that was even more conservative than the McKinnons or Blacks.

"I hope you can make her see sense as well, father," Marlene whispered: "I do not wish to lose my remaining family."

"Nor do I." The man nodded slowly: "I should take my leave then... Goodbye, daughter."

McKinnon shot a brief nod to Lord Black before his eyes lingered on Harry for a few seconds. His lips parted, seemingly to say something before he decided against it and left the room.

"Bloody hell, Peverell, did you have to drop that fucking bomb today?" Arcturus growled like a dog as he headed for the table to collect the spread-out pieces of parchment: "Could you not have waited a bit longer or picked a different time, so I didn't need to witness this bloody mess?"

"Thank you for what you did for us, my Lord." Marlene gave a small courtesy: "I don't want to imagine how this meeting might have ended if it weren't for your intervention."

"I also have a stake in this and an interest to get along with your father." Arcturus murmured: "The coalition between us has set in motion much change in the Wizengamot already, especially preventing the conservatives under Malfoy and Lestrange to grow even more powerful than they already are."

"What about the other members?" Harry inquired

"Well, many of the neutral families, apart from Dumbledore's lackeys like Diggory, McMillan, and Brocklehurst, showed genuinely interested in joining us." Arcturus replied: "However all our efforts might go to waste if McKinnon breaks it off now. He was the truly neutral voice compared to Charlus and me."

"I didn't mean to damage your coalition, however, I'm tired of having to lie to Lord McKinnon and listen to his bigoted views." Harry sighed.

"One day the truth would have come out anyway," Marlene added as she reluctantly separated from him and they walked over the door: "I think it's better now than later."

"I don't care how you sort out your messes, Peverell, just make sure you do it!" Lord Black replied as they stepped out of the Three Broomsticks and onto the main street of the village: "Now, it's time you say goodbye to your lovely blonde and accompany me back to London. We have much to discuss..."

"Don't over-exhaust yourself, stick to our plan and come back quickly, understood?" Marlene hugged him tightly and pecked his lips while Arcturus waited in the back.

"I will be fine." Harry kissed her forehead and broke the hug: "See you soon."

Marlene shot him a last soft smile over her shoulder and blew him a kiss before turning towards the Castle.

"I trust you know how to apparate without some pathetic Ministry authorized license?" Arcturus snorted, leading him behind the pub and away from prying eyes.

"Of course I do, sir." Harry chuckled: "I will see you in London.

Taking a step forward, he swirled the world past him and reappeared in the small park centered at Grimmauld Place, London. Since Lord Black had keyed him into the wards during his first visit over a year ago, Harry was already able to see the multi-story town hall right between Numbers 11 and 13.

A soft snap next to him announced the arrival of Arcturus.

"Is anyone left in the house?" Harry inquired.

"No one beside Kreacher and some bloody rats in our basement." The older wizard replied: "I'm no fool! Of course, I made sure to have it empty for you to cast the spell."

"If you would call him then?"

"Ironic that you ask me to do it when you could probably call him yourself..." Arcturus murmured under his breath but nevertheless called the elf.

"Master has called, Kreacher?" The elf appeared with an audible pop and bowed deeply.

"Yes, Kreacher, I want you outside the Townhouse for a minute so that Peverell may cast some additional protective spells on it"

"Kreacher understands, Master." The elf bowed deeply again, yet his black eyes remained lingering on Harry, sparkling with curiosity: "But Kreacher is still confused about the stranger with the black blood. Kreacher has searched for him on the Back Family Tapest-"

"All in good time, Kreacher, we will settle that issue later." Lord Black frowned: "Go ahead then, Peverell."

Harry took a few deep breaths and channeled his magic until he felt it almost humming in his veins. The Black Townhall might be smaller area-wise than both the McKinnon and Potter estates, however, even from out here, he could sense the already impressive net of wards. They were exceptionally old and deeply embedded into each stone, making the entire house pulse with magic. Overpowering that many ancient spells will certainly be taxing.

'But Dumbledore also managed to do it and he didn't learn the spell from its creator...'

The Elder Wand rose in between his finger until it was pointed straight at the entrance to Number 12:

"Secretum Absconditum In Anima!"

For the fifth time, a bright white light erupted from the tip of his wand while Harry forced his intent through the thin wood. Soon, he slowly turned on the spot and aimed the tip at Arcturus' chest, which heaved and lowered rapidly as he watched the scene in awe.

"Fidelius!"

The familiar heat rushed from his chest through his arms, pulsing as it passed his fingers. Then it was over almost as quickly as it started, leaving Harry panting heavily.

"I felt something right here..." The older wizard murmured, pointing at his chest: "It was warm and pulsing ever so faintly but now it's gone, however, my home remained right in front of me the entire time."

"It should have worked then." Harry cleared his throat, taking a deep breath: "But there's an easy way to test it."

He glanced up at where the town hall should stand, however, this time Number 12 was seemingly missing, as the gap between its neighbors had completely closed.

"Spill already!"

"Well, I can't see it." Harry grinned in triumph: "What about you, Kreacher, can you still see your home?"

"No, sir!" The elf shook its head, making large ears flop from side to side: "Sir with the Black Family Magic must be a powerful wizard, Kreacher thinks."

'One day Kreacher...'

'One day.'

"I suppose I shall share the location then." Arcturus grimaced:

"The Ancestral Townhall of the Blacks is located at Grimmauld Place 12, London."

A large, spotlessly polished door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by immaculate walls and dimly lit windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of its way.

"Kreacher can see the Ancestral Home of the Blacks again, Master. It is as if it never vanished." The Elf frowned.

"Go to my wife and tell her that I'll let her know once she may return, Kreacher!" Arcturus ordered as they made their way towards the door. He tapped it with his wand, unlocking it: "And make sure to tell her that she shall at no point try to floo back home. I don't want her to get stuck in some void! Return right after, we still have a need for you!"

"Yes, Master." The elf bowed deeply before vanishing with a pop.

"Finally to the important business of the day then," Arcturus muttered and gestured for Harry to follow him past the drawing-room up to his study.

"Let's start with a very simple question, Peverell-" Sharp gray eyes narrowed on him as the older wizard sat down behind his desk: "Who were your parents?"

'Straight to business indeed.'

"My father was the last living ancestor of the Peverells just as his forefathers were before him, with the only exception, that he broke the tradition and married a muggle-born," Harry answered, so far truthfully.

"My sister told me that you have Black blood running through your veins." The interrogation continued: "Do you know which member of my family married into yours?"

"No, sir." The first lie of the night slipped from his lips.

Arcturus regarded him for a few seconds, eyes narrowed in suspicion: "Then I would like to hear your explanation for why my family is more closely related to you than to any other House in magical Britain, even though we have married some of them, like the Rosiers, Greengrass, Selwyns, and Notts, for generations..."

"I'm afraid I don't know myself, sir," Harry replied, not willing to reveal his trump card just yet.

Just then Kreacher popped back into the study: "Master has ordered Kreacher to return as soon as he contacted the Mistress."

"Indeed, you come just in time, Kreacher." Arcturus smiled coldly: "Peverell, I want you to give Kreacher a clear order! Kreacher, I want you to try your best to refuse said order as well as you can! However, know that I'm not instructing you to refuse his order. I'm merely asking you to attempt it yourself. Do you understand me?"

"Kreacher understands, Master."

'This is not good.'

Harry saw no way out of the situation and turned towards the old elf while shrugging off his cloak: "Kreacher, I want you to put my cloak on a hanger!"

"Yes, Mas- " The elf buckled forward before narrowly stopping himself and remained standing on the spot. His eyes turned wide as he started shaking. Skinny legs twitched, and fingers flexed almost as if he was in pain.

'He is fighting the magic that binds him to his House.'

Though Kreacher seems to be losing the fight eventually; with a deep bow, he complied and accepted Harry's cloak.

Arcturus huffed in triumph: "Well, now you've got even more explaining to do, Peverell. My house elf should only take orders from those who have enough Black blood within them to recognize their magic. Kreacher, how does Peverell's magic feel to you?"

The elf closed its eyes and shifted closer to Harry "It's different from yours, Master, yet Kreacher can feel the traces of the Blacks, they're still strong within him. Kreacher wonders if the stranger is a grandson of the Master?"

"Somehow I doubt that." Harry chuckled nervously, secretly knowing that the elf was quite close.

"Leave us, Kreacher! Bloody elf, best not let my wife hear this." Arcturus groaned: "No, Peverell, I know you're no grandchild of mine, I did not have any bastards myself and the family tapestry would show me if my own sons had any. I highly doubt that Dorea would cheat on Charlus, especially since you and my nephew are so close in age... It has to be a generation above me then..."

'You were actually quite close...'

"Perhaps I can offer a different explanation?" Harry decided that now might be a good point to reveal it: "I know you've heard about the legends of my forefathers. They were feared and ruthless in battle, people associated them with servants of Death himself, and only very few survived their encounters with them. You might also remember how I explained my Family Magic in the Wizengamot."

"I do."

Since Arcturus nodded his understanding, Harry continued: "My Family Magic is rather similar to the Slytherins' in that it can only be directly passed down by blood. However, at the same time, it acts as a parasite any time it encounters foreign magic and holds the ability to partly absorb it..."

"Something like that is unheard of!" Arcturus snorted: "You expect me to believe that the traces of the Blacks survived for hundreds of years within your line because they have been absorbed into your own Family Magic? A family as old as yours must have absorbed hundreds of other lines!"

"But we only accept what makes us stronger. Why do you believe your elf followed my command?" Harry argued: "Why did the Potter wards recognize me as one of their own, even though my connection with the family dates back almost a millennia all the way to-"

" -Iolanthe Peverell..." Arcturus finished for him with a calculating grin: "Yes... I know..."

"Good, you've done your research, sir." Harry nodded appreciably: "However I can prove my claim by demonstrating a skill that will leave you with no doubt as to what my Family Magic is truly capable of. I merely need your word to not tell a single soul. That includes your wife and sister I'm afraid."

"If this secret is so important to you, then why would you share it with me?" The older wizard asked with suspicion.

"I still feel indebted to you after you prepared me for my trial last year. In addition, it is only thanks to your efforts, that Voldemort is slowly losing ground among the pureblood fraction instead of gaining it" Harry exemplified: "I would like you to know that you can fully trust me and for that, I'm willing to share some secrets..."

"Very well," Arcturus nodded: "You have my word as Lord Black that no one else shall know about it."

"Excellent." the ghost of a smile played on Harry's lips before they parted in a hiss:

"Then I look forward to working with you!"

Steel gray eyes, which had so far been narrowed in curiosity and distrust, widened until they almost bulged out of their sockets: "You- You're a Slytherin!" Arcturus stuttered.

"No." Harry denied firmly: "I'm a Peverell, but my line has crossed that of the Slytherins, just as it has crossed yours and the Potters. This was their parting gift for me, now part of my magic and that of my children until the end of time."

"The Gaunts..." Lord Black murmured absently, eyes shifting sideways: "It had to be the Gaunts... That's the only possibility!"

"You're right." Harry nodded slowly.

"But- but that means- "

"That the Dark Lord and I are more closely related than he could ever guess." Harry finished for him, his eyes radiating a brilliant green for a split second:

'Which takes me one step closer to becoming his Equal..."